A child is a child

The video that’s gone viral showing an unfortunate youth being mowed down by a speeding Mercedes

in New Delhi brings into focus the mindless snuffing out of a promising life. It also brings into focus the roles demanded of adults in guiding and protecting their wards from becoming delinquents.

I recall an accident in the year 2010, when a 14 year-old boy fatally ran over an 87 year-old man, while riding his father's motorcycle without a license. The Juvenile was produced before the Juvenile Justice Board and the Police registered a case against the father under the less punitive Motor Vehicles Act for allowing the minor to ride without a license.

Incensed, the victim’s son moved the High court. The plea was that had the father had not allowed his son to ride the motorbike, the accident would not have taken place and a valuable life would not have been lost.

The plea found favour with a livid Bombay High court (Justice Ajay Khanwilkar and Justice Pramod Kode) which ordered an F.I.R to be registered against the father under the relevant sections of the Indian Penal Code and also ordered that the probe into the accident should be conducted by an Officer not below the rank of Dy.S.P.” The order was widely reported and the message sent across was very clear- "Do not allow your children below the age of 18 to ride motor vehicles or you, the parents, and not the minor would be held responsible for the consequences. I don’t know what happened later, but the order at that time did raise questions in the minds of parents about the bounds of unconditional love for their children.

The Juvenile in the present case, it is reported, have been found driving in a rash and negligent way on quite a few occasions earlier and a ‘dangerous driving’ notice was served on his father. But to no avail. “To err is human. But to err repeatedly, in this fashion, is inhuman” thought the Police and now the father finds himself facing a charge of culpable homicide not amounting to murder, abetment and other serious charges.  

No matter how much you love your ‘Munna’ or ‘Munni’ or how eager you are for him or her to get ahead, it would be wise to let them take the backseat. At least he becomes eligible to possess a valid license of his own.

A child is a child. And  from whatever angle you look, a child can never be the father of the man.

Three Lawyers in a Car(To Say Nothing of the Driver)

Three lawyers set out for a prayer meeting in the evening yesterday in a car driven by one of their drivers. Since the fuel gauge was slipping below the reserve level, the driver pulled over at the nearest Petrol Bunk. While the gas was being filled one of the lawyers eased himself out of the car and went to the washroom only to find it locked.He asked the occupant in the office for the key and was rudely told that the toilets are meant for the staff. Relief could be found behind the bushes on the other side of the road,he slyly added, smirking at the other's discomfiture.
Meanwhile, unaware that there was mischief afoot, uneasiness reigned in the car since another lawyer started feeling the pressure. He wasnt too thrilled to find the first returning with his bladder full and cursing the day Petrol Bunk attendants were created. He heard him out in stony silence, with an "Oh-Ho!" escaping his lips went he heard about the advise offered by the man in the office.
Pardon me, 'Oh-Ho!" were not the only words to escape his lips. But, if I repeated the other words you may not pardon me!
Anyway, not ever having been a fan of the poet Tennyson, he wasn't about 'to chatter over stony ways,in little sharps and trebles,bubble into the ebbying bays, and babble on the pebbles'. The glint in his eyes revealed that he was contemplating actions which could lead to a sentence under Section 302 I.P.C, if convicted! Holding the first one by the elbow, he walked towards the office where an unwary manager-turned-aggressor looked into the distance and dreamt of turning to his advantage, spiralling fuel prices.
Five minutes was all it took for the manager to understand what happened to Nelson at 'waterloo' Three minutes were spent in educating the man how mandatory it was to provide clean toilets and restrooms for road users, among whom ladies, the elderly and diabetic patients formed a sizeable number. Two minutes were for the noodles in his head to be cooked.
Strangely enough,there are times in the affairs of men when the threat of a complaint to the CMD with a copy marked to a Prime Minister who has been vocal about building toilets first and temples later, would lead to otherwise rude attendants personally escorting beleagured travellers to the washroom. This was one such time. Having sorted out the release mechanisms nature has designed for men, the two were escorted to the car where the writer of this post was waiting in air-conditioned comfort; the temperature outside being a beastly 44 C.
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We parted with a stern warning, emphasising that washrooms have to be kept open and hygenic and that a board ought to be displayed offering the amenities instead of locking it and pocketing the key. Any deviation from the rule would result and the High Court will be informed expeditiously.

P.S. Nothing was said by the Driver.

Battle of Saragarhi.

As wide-eyed impressionable school children we grew up marvelling at the raw courage and never-say-die spirit shown by the Greeks at the Battle of Thermopyle , the charge of the Light Brigade, the Battle of Marathon, Custers Last Stand and other epic tales from remote parts of the World. We all carried a bit of Leonidas, Alexander,Nelson (and some a bit of Chegez Khan) in our hearts, not only in the schoolrooms but even beyond. Quite a number of our friends in the Armed Forces today would proudly admit that the inspiration for choosing their calling came from the incredulous tales of valour shown by these men in the face of heavy odds.

Looking back, I honestly confess that neither I nor my friends had ever heard of a battle which could rival the ones mentioned above, in which Indians took part. Apart from what was routinely featured in the History books, even the teachers did not know about this particular battle. There was no mention at all of a battle called 'The Battle of Saragarhi.' This made it all the more difficult to stomach when I finally heard about it.

Anyway in 1897, 21 soldiers belonging to the 34th Sikhs of British Indian Army manning a signalling post at Saragarhi were surrounded and attacked by 10,000 afghans/pashtuns ( 10,000 may be exaggerated but even the odds of 21 against 100 is pretty daunting). The post was not a fort- more mud-based than built on stone. They were given a chance to surrender. Stoutly refusing the offer, the Sikhs chose to fight to the last man and only after inflicting heavy casualties on the enemy did the guns fall silent. More than 600 are claimed to have been killed by the 21 and one can only imagine the fierce hand-to hand fighting. One can also imagine the inricate manoevering employed to hold at bay the enemy which had completely surrounded them.When news of this heroic encounter reached Britain, the House of Commons rose and gave a standing ovation apart from commemorating them with medals of gallantry and awarding lands to their dependants. Two Gurudwaras were also built in Amritsar and Ferozepur in the memories of the gallant men who hailed from these two towns.There was a School also built in the memory of the brave men but that has been demolished to make way for a parking lot!

The battle is too detailed to be described here. However UNESCO has listed it as one of the eight most significant acts of collective bravery in history and I am told the heroic deeds and the clever strategy employed during the battle is being taught in schools in France and England. Recently schools in Punjab have started teaching it and till date the battle does not feature in the curriculam taught in the rest of India.The Indian Army has been taking up the cause and fighting for it to be included in the curriculam, but who is there to hear their plea?

But for those who havent heard of it, please devote a minute to check it out on Wikipedia.

Why it hasnt been introduced in schools earlier defies logic. The probable reason maybe ebacause it wasnt part of the Nationalism movement.Akbar and Maharana Pratap are Great and the powers that be are now considering who should be placed higher in the pecking order. But whether "The Battle of Saragarhi" is introduced in schools or not, it is worth a read - to savour and to pass on to the next generation.

                                            "CHINESE CHECKERED"
                               

I‘ve often wondered about the Chinese. What is it that makes them excellent salesmen?

One of my favourite haunts in Connaught Place is a shop owned and managed by an old Chinese. Besides Chinese shoes, he also sells other leather items. I love the craftmanship, the style and comfort they offer and, by definition, is one 'helluva' satisfied and loyal customer.

He was a fair businessman but at the same time, wouldnt put up with any nonsense.The stock is always displayed in such a way that it's easy to shop. Not for him the wary pest, moving from one shelf to another, pulling out items after items, till he decides to visit the next shop. Hence,everything was very well organised. Those selling at discounts varying from "50%, 40%, 20% and 10% " were displayed on separate shelfs. . The latest arrivals and those based on  on style, fashion and demand.are always placed under the banner- "No Discount" One doesnt need to be an Einstein to figure out that getting a discounted price where a 'No Discount' sign has been strategically placed, is not going to get you anywhere. Still there are members of a unique tribe who pride themselves on being a little more equal than others in the brain and soft-skills department and who would defy logic and make a pitch for it.

This afternoon I visited the shop accompanied by a friend who fancied himself a bit of a bargainer, having grown up and made his bones on the streets of Karol Bagh, Chandni Chowk,Palika Bazaar etc. He obviously liked what he saw. His gaze lingered on the 50% discounted items, leapt over the ones at 40%, was tempted at 20%, whistled at the 10% till like a frozen sculpture, transfixed itself on the "No Discount" shelf. But the inherent spirit of not paying too much for what they thought was cheap couldnt be restrained and smacking his lips in anicipation, he moved towards the blessed lot.
"Don't even think about it " I warned him.
“I’ll see about that’ he hissed and cocking his fingers, summoned one of the Salesmen.

Sensing that here was a customer who was a class conscious dude, the Salesman trotted up to him and soon I was out of ear shot . But while I went about collecting items that caught my fancy, the cocky bargainer was in animated combat with the salesman and it was apparent that he wasn’t making any progress. I could see the salesman sweeping his hands in the direction of the discounted lot quite often, and strewth, at times he was very threatening. My friend tried every trick in the book and some more but was met with stiff resistance.Clearly,there was something personal that prevented any accord.

Exasperated, he put in a last ditch effort and turned to the owner who was viewing the proceedings with that  inscrutable expession the Chinese sport when they anticipate (correctly,mind you) someones trying to touch them for a favour.
“I like this Belt and want to buy it”
“OK. Its 900 Rupees”
“ Rs.900/- is too steep for this Belt.I want a discount”
"The tag says Rs.900. Rs.900 it is."

"But..."

“No buts! Please discuss with salesman. Dont bargain with me. Whatever discount he gives , I’ll accept. If he says Rs.100 for the Belt, I’ll give it to you for 100”. Then nodding happily, he looked at the Salesman and told him - “The balance Rs.800/- of course, will be deducted from your salary.”

Receiving the message loud and clear and not wanting to cross swords with the salesman again, he relucantly put the Belt back in the stand, with an air of resignation and frustrated rage. Something attempted, something done.Yet the something done was something foolish and he did not have the courage to face or admit it. He had never been to Harvard and wasnt aware of what they didnt teach you there. But the Karol Bagh school of thought, laced with a non-detailed sprinkling of the Chandni Chowk version, was to nonchanantly walk away from the scene as if you disinterested, knowing that the Salesman will run behind you and place the whammies in your palm at the price last negotiated! Without another word, he turned and zig-zagged his way out of the shop, momentarily reading one of the quotes by Confucius that caught his eye, before slinking  out, shaking his head from side to side..Three pairs of eyes followed his rhythmic saunt, of which one was benevolent and, I confess, belonged to me. The other two, I'm afraid were burning embers through extremely narrow slits. And had it not been for the truce between the two countries, I dare say, there would have been a Peking Duck in New Delhi. The old man took my credit card and swiped it without saying a word and handed it back to me after I had signed the receipt. The hurt and anger conveyed by the half bow he gave me. 
I knew my friend would be waiting outside but out of curiosity, I marched to the quotation of Confucius that had caught my friend's eye. I couldn't conceal my amusement and let it burst forth. 


”Looking at small advantages prevents greater affairs from being accomplished"

I wasted no time in purchasing the Belt and gifting it to my friend who was chaffing outside. After all It wouldnt do him no harm to be reminded of the Confucian saying whenever he wore the Belt.