My friend’s condom adventure
Of late, I came to know about an interesting blog. This blogger, who happens to be a resident of Calcutta, the good old middle-class-dominated City of Joy. Below is what he wrote in one of his posts. Happy reading…
Bhudu has always taken Buladi seriously. For him, the pint-sized boudi next-door packs quite a punch. She has mastered the art of getting the point across throwing caution to the winds and has an in-your-face approach. No ludo or hadudu for her.
He steps outside, looks around to see if anyone saw him, wears his shades…and then disappears into the crowd.
Naturally, Bhudu practises what Buladi preaches and expects a pat on the back. But instead, he got strange stares and silent admonitions the first time he visited a chemist to buy a pack of condoms.
Unmindful of the attention he might attract, Bhudu had walked into a chemist shop a few years ago and asked for a pack of condoms. Mind you, there were three people around – a mother with her daughter, a parar changra chhele and a middle-aged bhadralok (quite an ensemble). With little knowledge of the variety on offer, he had no idea whether to go for flavoured or plain or dotted and had asked the man on the counter to get him one — any one for that matter (what the heck!).
Bhudu was probably a little too rude (can’t blame him for that. He had little time in hand before mom returned home) since he was in a hurry. But he was not prepared for what happened next. A hush descended on the shop, the man on counter started scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, the mother clutched on to her kid and gave Bhudu a stern side glance, the changra chhele smirked, the bhadralok cleared his throat and asked the chemist: “Dada, katokkon dariye thakbo? Taratari korun.” (How long should I wait? Please hurry up.)
The naïve Bhudu was yet to realise what was going on. After all, he had assumed, at least two of the three people (if not all), have used condoms. So what was the fuss all about?
The bhadralok’s rebuke got the chemist going, but it was evident that he was not his usual self. He kept fumbling with the medicines, dropping the strips and even getting his calculations all wrong. And to make matters worse, by then a kakima had walked in. “Dada, ek pata Crocin deben?” (I want a strip of Crocin), she requested. It seemed the chemist was looking for this breather. He rushed inside the shop to get the pills. But this sealed his fate.
With the raging testosterones rushing to his brains…well let’s keep it to that…Bhudu hollered out: “Dada, amar condomgulo din.” (Get me my condoms)
That was it. The mother stomped out of the shop tugging her daughter along, who rightly pointed out that they were yet to get their pills. “Kono dorkar nei. Beshi peke gachho,” she yelled back to her perfectly logical and dumbfounded daughter. The bhadralok, who had had enough — collected his medicines and rushed out too, forgetting his umbrella in the process. The kakima, who had come into the scene late, was too shocked to react. Only the changra chhele (really respect him for this) kept his face straight this time.
The chemist, who by then, had figured out that his shop’s reputation was ruined beyond repair, came out with a resigned look, got hold of a folding ladder and stepped up to the top of the shelves. There, he rummaged through rows of pills of all shapes and sizes and then dug out what I was looking for. “Eita cholbe to?” (will this do?), he had enquired.
“Dourobe,” pat came the reply from Bhudu.
Since then, Bhudu has grown wiser and learnt to be discrete while buying condoms. He has also experimented with variety and settled for the exact brand and type which he prefers. So, these days, he goes to a chemist’s and specifically says what he wants in a hushed tone, avoiding undue attention from everyone around. The man on the counter suddenly looks like he is on a secret mission and vanishes inside the shop for some time before coming out with a white packet that fittingly, looks suspicious enough. Money changes hands and Bhudu slips it inside his bag.
Now, below are a few words from my side.
What bothers us? Ignorance, civic sense or simply because this is not the way we like it? (Yes, we like it, the way it comes, but, somehow, we don’t have the courage to admit …
True, we forget, it is a necessity, nothing else…
I feel, each and every adult (both psychologically and physically) person must (I repeat must) always carry at least one condom in his wallet.
Actually, we do not have any problem seeing the neatly (?) designed chemists’ shops, with condom packs, oils and tablets that claim to be sexual energiser (Really?) in front row of the showcases, but, we feel ashamed if somebody asks for a pack of condoms… How funny…
See man, they display those packs like nothing, but, I think, at the same time, they do not want to sell them out. Is it?
We, the so called ‘bhadraloks’, do stand by the road-side hawkers, who sells some oils, again they claim to be sexual energisers, and do hear what those people say… sometimes, we peep what they show… they generally show some X-rated pictures… Hm, some even buy those ‘bloody’ oils… But, still, we feel awkward and became snobbish if somebody asks for a pack of condoms at a chemists shop. Hey, man, from where do these people buy condoms? From roadside hawkers? Or they don’t even bother to use one? So, is our society igniting unprotected sex?
This is what we are, how we are….
The concept of Time in Hindu Mythology
With the sunrise, the day starts and with the sunset it ends.
Actually, these eternal truth of the Universe counts the most amazing ‘Time’ factor. Perhaps the biggest wonder of the Universe is the concept of ‘Time’. From morning to night, what we care for is ‘Time’. We care for it. Sometimes we pass our time thinking how time passes. But how the concept of ‘Time’ first came to our mind? How the human being started thinking about the ‘Time’ so seriously? Let us have some information on how the concept of ‘Time’ came and what is the concept of ‘Time’ in Hindu mythology.
Beliefs and Legends
Generally, festivals celebrate the passage of time. Celebration of a new Gregorian year is just that. It is an acknowledgement of the passage of 12 months and the commencement of another. In terms of time frames, our existence on this planet is a speck in the grand scheme of creation.
It was a good 400 years ago that the emperors of Vijayanagar created magnificent monuments all over south India. It was about 1000 years ago that the Thanjavur Periya Koyil, the Hoysala monuments and other towering temples came into existence all over India. The Ellora temple even predates these. It was 1400 years ago when the Bhakti movement of south India saw the documentation of the existence of temples. It was about 2000 years ago when the Tamil Sangam literature documented the existence of places of worship such as Tiruvenkaadu. The excavated remains of Indus valley are 5000 years old.That is a 5000 year timeline — history as we may call it. How does Hindu, i.e., Indian mythology view time? MH Krishnaswamy of Chennai authors this Templenet feature on ‘Time — as viewed in Indian mythology’.
The smallest unit of time is a kaashta, which is 18 times the amount of time it takes to blink an eyelid. 10 kaashtas make a kshanam and 12 kshanams constitute a muhoortam. 60 of these muhoortams constitute a day. 30 days constitute a month and 3 months make up a ritu. 12 months of course constitute a human year.
We now move on from the human plane to the world of the departed souls — the pitrus. Here, a human month equals the length of a day. The brighter half of a lunar month constitutes the pitru’s day time and the darker half their night.
In the realm of the Devas or the Gods, a human year constitutes a single day. The brighter half of the year Uttarayanam makes up the day time hours of the Devas while the darker half Dakshinayanam makes up the night time hours.
A yuga or an epoch is the next higher level of measurement. 1200 Deva years constitute the Kaliyuga or the present epoch that we are believed to be living in; 2400 deva years make up the Dwapara yuga that preceded Kali yuga; 3600 years made up the Treta yuga and 4800 the Krita yuga respectively.
Thus, the length of the Kaliyuga is 1200 X 360 i.e. 432,000 human years. A cycle of 4 yugas is referred to as the catur yugas. A cycle of catur yugas lasts for 12,000 deva years or 12,000 X 360 i.e. 4,320,000 human years.
How do these time measurements correlate with the process of creation?
Brahma in Hindu mythology is referred to as the creator. A thousand catur yugas are said to make up the daylight hours of a single day of Brahma’s life. Another thousand make up the night time of a single day of Brahma. Thus, a single day in Brahma’s life spans 2000 X 4,320,000 i.e. 8,640,000,000 human years. 360 such days, each lasting 8.6 billion years constitute a year in Brahma’s life, which lasts for a 100 Brahma years. At the end of one Brahma’s life, another starts. This cycle goes on and on.A Brahma’s life is also known as a Para. Each half param is referred to as a parardham. It is believed that we are currently living in the 2nd half of the life of the present Brahma.
It is to be noted that in the performance of Vedic rituals, the frame of time in which the ritual is being performed is specified both in macro and in micro terms, the term ‘dviteeya paraardhe’ (the second half of Brahma’s term) is stated. The reference point here is the moment of commencement of creation of the Universe by Brahma.
When we say ‘dviteeya paraardhe’, which Brahma are we referring to? How many Brahmas have preceded the current one? This specification is non existent in Vedic mantras. Since the whole process is cyclical, with one Brahma commencing when another completes, and with this process repeating forever, there may not be any significance in stating the position of Brahma.
In a cyclical concept of time every starting point will have to be an ending point. If time is postulated as being linear and unidirectional there will have to be an absolute starting point for time. This cyclical nature of time as believed in Indian mythology refers to time as ‘anaadi’ or that without a beginning.
Yet another measure of time is Kalpa. The puranas are named after kalpas; thus we have the matsya kalpa, koorma kalpa, lakshmi kalpa, sweta varaaha kalpa, shiva kalpa, Brahma kalpa, vishnu kalpa and so on. Each Brahma’s term lasts for a period of 7 kalpas. The current period in time is said to belong to the sweta varaaha kalpam, which is in the second half of the life of Brahma.
A kalpam or an epoch is made up of 14 manvantaras and each manvantara spans 71 caturyugas. The fourteen manvantaras are respectively swayambhuva, sawosisha, audhama, thaamasa, raivatha, sakshusha, vaivasvata, savarni, daaksha savarni, bhramha savarni, dharma savarni, rudra savarni, rouchya and bowdhya. The present Kaliyuga is the 28th in the present Vaivaswata manvantara.
Sankalpam: Thus, Vedic mantras pin point the time of performance of a ritual – by narrowing down from dwiteeya paraardhe (in the 2nd half of the term of Brahma), Sweta varaaha kalpe (in the kalpa sweta varaaha), Vaivasvata manvantare (in the 7th manvantaram), Kaliyuga (in the Kali epoch) – through the finer details such as the name of the current year, month etc.
Hinglish, Benglish – the Indian street English
To know a country is to know the culture of the place vividly. Probably, the best way to have a true experience of the culture of a place, most people would agree, to soak it in, is definitely on the streets.
No, “on the streets” does not mean necessarily eating at street stalls or buying clothes at a pavement bazaar, but definitely experiencing the culture of the local people.
Actually, the localisation of the language English in India is such a phenomena, which can only be understood by observing the way people have molded it to fit into their cup of tea, i.e. their culture.
I remember a day in Delhi. I was there spending my Christmas vacation. One day, while hovering around a fancy shopping mall, suddenly a glossy sign of McDonalds caught my attention.
The line said, “I’m lovin’ it.” Yes, that’s the way many Indians speak. In fact, the advertising agency was not actually taking a playful dig at the Indian tendency to use progressive in static verbs like, “I’m understanding it” or “She is knowing the answer”.
The byline has been used in a cheeky dig. Advertising caters to a target audience in a way that will appeal to them and in a language they will understand. With the acceptance of rapid globalisation here, it is reflected in the confidence with which Indians have made English a part of their culture and bent the rules of conventional usage.
Ramananda Sengupta, the international editor of Outlook Magazine, once spoke about how English is used in India and pointed out various peculiarities which are well understood in the country, but would seem quite alien to a foreigner. There is a distinction between first language and “Mother Tongue” in India. Sengupta interpreted a first language, as the one you think in, which for most educated Indians would be English.
The “mother tongue”, which is another Indian adaptation, is the language spoken in one’s native region. There are various other adaptations, which are distinct to English spoken in India. No one has a problem understanding sentences like, “You asked her, no?” “We did it just like that only”, or “Please off the lights”. These are of course particular to conversational English and would not be used while writing.
Not only the above words or phrases, there are several words that Indians use, which are not really used in other English speaking countries. For example ‘eve-teasing’ is the word used to describe the harassment of women, a ‘Himalayan blunder’ is a very serious mistake, a “hotel” is used as a generic term for a eating place, ‘tops’ are earrings, a ‘rubber’ is an eraser, a ‘bearer’ is a waiter, and ‘cent percent’ is one hundred percent! ‘Cousin-brother’ for male cousin; ‘crore’ for ten million; ‘lakh’ for hundred thousand; (and they use ‘crore’ and ‘lakh’ as often as we use ‘million’, which they don’t use; very disconcerting at first – jl); ‘godown’ for warehouse; ‘opticals’ for eyeglasses; ‘nose-screw’ for woman’s nose ornament; ‘scheduled caste’ for lowest Hindu caste.
Don’t be befuddled if an Indian asks you your “good name”, which may lead you to think about which is the “bad” part and look at him or her blankly for a while. They just want to know your name! Signboards advertising “Fooding and Lodging” are common at small motels and no one has a problem understanding that.
Along with globalisation has come not only the call-center culture where young professionals are well-versed with the nuances of American and British English and accents, but a also a new confidence in the way Indians have adapted the English language to suit their own culture. Indians have improvised and innovated in order to make English a part of their identity.
Liberally sprinkled with local terms it is used unashamedly because this is the way one speaks English in India. It is all part of effective communication. So whether it is Pepsi’s byline of “Yeh dil maange MORE” or Lehar’s “CONTROL nahin hota”, they are reflections of the way English is spoken by most people here.
The disdain expressed by many educated Indians in the past at this tendency to infuse ethnicity into the English language is fading away. To speak English like the British is no longer the predominant view. Ivan Illich, an anti institutional philosopher, supported this trend in his series of articles called Vernacular Values. “Language would be totally inhuman if it were totally taught. Speech is much more than communication, and only machines can communicate to without reference to vernacular roots.”
These improvisations are tailored for effective communications as there are certain times when neither English nor the local language are able to convey meaning adequately on their own. So it is common to hear Hinglish, a combination of Hindi and English, where local terms are interspersed through English sentences. This usage is not only reflected in advertising, but also in television shows, in movies, and even in Indian writing in English. In the latter, it is used to lend authenticity to the narrative, as sometimes the English language cannot completely convey the local experience.
Not only the Hinglish, even Bengali and English languages combined into Benglish. Like, ‘Rossgolla’, ‘Maharaja’, ‘Jamindar’, ‘Riksawwala’, ’Taxiwala’, ‘puja’ and a lot more, which can be included.
Though there are many opponents to this trend and the new confidence in this so called “convoluted” version, many believe it to be positive. Whether it is advertising professionals, writers, or scholars, they all believe it is about effective communication and the fact that English is becoming localised shows its popularity with the masses.
Of course, it is not ethical to believe that this hybrid version is used in business or professional communication (though sometimes it happens as well). This is a casual style of speaking English adapted to the life of the millions of Indians who speak the language. Some may scream sacrilege, but it is really about the evolution of a language to mirror changing attitudes of a society.
And for the millions who speak this hybrid version, “Well what to do, we’re loving it!” “What to do, CONTROL nahin hota!”
Where’s the news?
Gurubhai never finds anything newsworthy. And he always asks for that.
Gurubhai, a veteran journo, is always a source of pure entertainment for his colleagues.
Truly, it’s unusual. Being in journalism for so many years, and seemed to be a successful one, he never finds anything worthy to be printed in the newspapers as “NEWS”. To him, all’s worthless.
Even, though he had written plenty, and was published in the esteemed daily — a quite renowned one — he works for, gurubhai is still in search of something to be newsworthy.
Once, an industrialist, who happened to be a good source for news, was in town. The newspaper assigned gurubhai to attend the press conference, to be addressed by the CEO. It was almost a closed-door meeting attended by selected invitees i.e. journos. Everyone shot the honcho with their chiselled (?) verbal weapons and got satisfied with the feeds that they would pen-down, which they thought, would be carried by their newspapers prominently. About an hour has passed. Now, it’s time for vote of thanks. Suddenly, gurubhai asked, “Mr CEO, where’s the news? Give me some news”. Laughter filled the room.
Yes, the next morning, gurubhai too wrote an article, which, no wonder, got prominence.
So, to gurubhai, anything that newspapers carry can never be treated as pure news. No, not all, but almost everything. What he finds, newspapers carry, is, just fillers, of little human interest.
Hello world!
Nothing much to say…
Just wanted to scribble and peep into the virtual world ….
Keep it going….
Lets’ see, what happens….
Thanks all.
