Khushwant on life, death & happiness

As said in an earlier post, I do really love this guy and here is one of his articles. I dont think I am even remotely qualified to pass a judgment on his writing. Yet, cant help say that he has proved to be so articulate once again:

Death is rarely spoken about in our homes. I wonder why. Especially when each one of us knows that death has to come, has to strike. It’s inevitable. This line from Yas Yagana Changezi says it best: Khuda mein shak ho to ho, maut mein nahin koi shak (You may or may not doubt the existence of God, you can’t doubt the certainty of death). And one must prepare oneself to face it.
At 95, I do think of death. I think of death very often but I don’t lose sleep over it. I think of those gone; keep wondering where they are. Where have they gone? Where will they be? I don’t know the answers: where you go, what happens next. To quote Omar Khayyam,

“Into this Universe, and Why not knowing
Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing...”

and,

“There was a Door to which I found no Key
There was a Veil through which I could not see
Some little Talk awhile of Me and Thee
There seemed—and then no more of Thee and Me.”

I once asked the Dalai Lama how one should face death and he had advised meditation. I’m not scared of death; I do not fear it. Death is inevitable. While I have thought about it a lot, I don’t brood about it. I’m prepared for it. As Asadullah Khan Ghalib has so aptly put it,

“Rau mein hai raksh-e-umar kahaan dekhiye thhamey
Nai haath baag par hai na pa hai rakaab mein
(Age travels at galloping pace; who knows where it will stop
We do not have the reins in our hands nor our feet in the stirrups).”

All my contemporaries—whether here or in England or in Pakistan—they’re all gone. I don’t know where I’ll be in a year or two. I don’t fear death. What I dread is the day I go blind or am incapacitated because of old age—that’s what I fear—I’d rather die than live in that condition. I’m a burden enough on my daughter Mala and don’t want to be an extra burden on her.
All that I hope for is that when death comes to me, it comes swiftly, without much pain, like fading away in sound slumber. Till then I’ll keep working and living each day as it comes. There’s so much left to do. I have to content myself by saying these lines of Iqbal:

“Baagh-e-bahisht se mujhe hukm-e-safar diya tha kyon?
Kaar-e-Jahaan daraaz hai, ab mera intezaar kar
(Why did you order me out of the garden of paradise? I have a lot left to do; now you wait for me).”

So I often tell Bade Mian, as I refer to him, from time to time, that he’s got to wait for me as I still have work to complete.
I believe in these lines of Tennyson:

“Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea...
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness or farewell,
When I embark.”

I believe in the Jain philosophy that death ought to be celebrated. Earlier, whenever I was upset or low, I used to go to the cremation grounds. It has a cleansing effect, and worked like a therapy for me. In fact, I’d written my own epitaph years ago:

“Here lies one who spared neither man nor God
Waste not your tears on him, he was a sod
Writing nasty things he regarded as great fun
Thank the Lord he is dead, this son of a gun.”

                    
        I hope that when death comes to me, it comes swiftly, without much pain, like fading away in sound slumber.         
                    
I had even written my own obit in 1943 when I was still in my twenties. It later appeared in a collection of short stories, titled ‘Posthumous’. In the piece, I had imagined The Tribune announcing the news of my death on its front page with a small photograph. The headline would read: ‘Sardar Khushwant Singh Dead’. And then, in somewhat smaller print:

‘We regret to announce the sudden death of Sardar Khushwant Singh at 6 pm last evening. He leaves behind a young widow, two infant children and a large number of friends and admirers. Amongst those who called at the late sardar’s residence were the PA to the chief justice, several ministers, and judges of the high court.’

I had to cope with death when I lost my wife. Being an agnostic, I could not find solace in religious rituals. Being essentially a loner, I discouraged friends and relatives from coming to condole with me. I spent the first night alone sitting in my chair in the dark. At times, I broke down, but soon recovered my composure. A couple of days later, I resumed my usual routine, working from dawn to dusk. That took my mind off the stark reality of having to live alone in an empty home for the rest of my days. When friends persisted in calling and upsetting my equilibrium, I packed myself off to Goa to be by myself.

I used to be keen on a burial because with a burial you give back to the earth what you have taken. Now, it will be the electric crematorium. I had requested the management of the Bahai faith if I could be buried. Initially, they had agreed, but then they came up with all sorts of conditions and rules. I had wanted to be buried in one corner with just a peepal tree next to my grave. After okaying this, the management later said that that wouldn’t be possible and that my grave would be in the middle of a row and not in a corner. I wasn’t okay with that—even though I know that once you are dead it makes no difference. But I was keen to be buried in one corner. They also told me later that they would chant some prayers, which again I couldn’t agree with, because I don’t believe in religion or in religious rituals of any kind.
Though I’m quite fit, I know I don’t have much time left. I’m coming to terms with death, preparing myself. And since I have no faith in God, nor in the day of judgement, nor in the theory of reincarnation, I have to come to terms with the complete full stop. I have been criticised for not sparing even the dead, but then death does not sanctify a person, and if I find the person had been corrupt, I write about it even when he’s gone.

I don’t believe in rebirth or in reincarnation, in the day of judgement or in heaven or hell. I accept the finality of death. We do not know what happens to us after we die but one should help a person go in peace—at peace with himself and with the world.
I’ve lived a reasonably contented life. I’ve often thought about what it is that makes people happy—what one has to do in order to achieve happiness.

First and foremost is good health. If you do not enjoy good health, you can never be happy. Any ailment, however trivial, will deduct something from your happiness.

Second, a healthy bank balance. It need not run into crores, but it should be enough to provide for comforts, and there should be something to spare for recreation—eating out, going to the movies, travel and holidays in the hills or by the sea. Shortage of money can be demoralising. Living on credit or borrowing is demeaning and lowers one in one’s own eyes.

Third, your own home. Rented places can never give you the comfort or security of a home that is yours for keeps. If it has garden space, all the better. Plant your own trees and flowers, see them grow and blossom, and cultivate a sense of kinship with them.

Fourth, an understanding companion, be it your spouse or a friend. If you have too many misunderstandings, it robs you of your peace of mind. It is better to be divorced than to be quarrelling all the time.

Fifth, stop envying those who have done better than you in life—risen higher, made more money, or earned more fame. Envy can be corroding; avoid comparing yourself with others.
Sixth, do not allow people to descend on you for gup-shup. By the time you get rid of them, you will feel exhausted and poisoned by their gossip-mongering.  
                    
Seventh, cultivate a hobby or two that will fulfil you—gardening, reading, writing, painting, playing or listening to music. Going to clubs or parties to get free drinks, or to meet celebrities, is a criminal waste of time. It’s important to concentrate on something that keeps you occupied meaningfully. I have family members and friends who spend their entire day caring for stray dogs, giving them food and medicines. There are others who run mobile clinics, treating sick people and animals free of charge.

Eighth, every morning and evening devote 15 minutes to introspection. In the mornings, 10 minutes should be spent in keeping the mind absolutely still, and five listing the things you have to do that day. In the evenings, five minutes should be set aside to keep the mind still and 10 to go over the tasks you had intended to do.

Ninth, don’t lose your temper. Try not to be short-tempered, or vengeful. Even when a friend has been rude, just move on.
Above all, when the time comes to go, one should go like a man without any regret or grievance against anyone. Iqbal said it beautifully in a couplet in Persian: “You ask me about the signs of a man of faith? When death comes to him, he has a smile on his lips.”

(Excerpted from the forthcoming Absolute Khushwant: The Low-Down on Life, Death & Most Things In-Between (Penguin). The book will be launched on August 16.)

Sreeram Wins Indian Idol 5!

It is indeed a very proud moment for every Telugu person to see Sreeram win the Indian Idol 5. At last a Telugu won the title.

Sandeep was far below Karunya's talent in season 2 and it felt very sad to see talent losing to mediocrity.
In the same way, very disheartening  to see Hemachandra lose in Saregama to Debojit Saha whom he far surpassed. 

Sreeram, the efforts of your parents in aggressive publicity and garnering votes, the support of the entire Telugu film industry...everyone worked for your victory...every Telugu person wanted you to win and why not?! There wasn't a match to your voice amongst any of the contestants. You have made every Telugu feel proud.

The Telugu news channels were waiting for the results, breath held and for once I fully support the media frenzy. As I type this blog at one in the night, I can hear the continuous sound of crackers in the background.
Feeling very proud and happy to see our AP getting a prominent place in India because of your hard work, Sreeram.
All the best for your future!

On being a woman entrepreneur

Many such thoughts have been crossing my mind of late. There was this enthusiasm to experience the corporate world after being in the teaching job for a long time. Have seen both the good and bad in this world. Now, at this juncture thoughts are turning to going on my own. So, what do I do? The last 5 generations on both paternal and maternal sides have been only into salaried jobs...no one has ventured on a business. On one hand is the temptation of earning a steady income through a job...I have still 14 years of service! On the other hand, when I contemplate, I feel so stagnated. Is this what any normal salaried person in her mid-40s feels? Or is it me who feels that there is so much more that can be done and I am not doing it? In this context, I happened to meet up with a young woman of 25 who had started her own coffee outlet/ a tiny restaurant doling out coffee and sandwiches and here is what I gathered from her:

1. A 400 sft place: rent Rs.14000/- pm.
2. Electricity expenses: 3000 pm
3. Gas: Rs.3000; 2 industrial cylinders pm
4. 3 waiters @ 3-5000 pm each
5. Yearly license at Rs 1500 pm
6. Other taxes
7. To look at hotel management schools for chefs
8. Location also is the key to decide the target client
9. Not to make it too exclusive in terms of target clientele or menu in the beginning till we stabilize
10.Takes around 3 years to break even.

All of the above + the cost of raw material every month...well,  to put in that much every month with no guarantee of profits...hmm..requires lot of thinking.

Tere bin...bin tere and Bikanerwala

After a long time, I stepped out of house. Determined to go for full throttle entertainment—good lunch, a movie…the works. I have been working from home and the little human interaction I have was missing too. I skipped breakfast in the hope of stuffing myself with a good buffet lunch.
Some instinct made me grab my helmet at the last minute. I stepped out into the cool environment outside and drove on my scooty. Just as I neared the Mettuguda junction, a light drizzle began. I hoped it remained only that…a drizzle. But this increased steadily so much that by the time I was at St Ann’s, an huge downpour started. I started driving cautiously afraid of skidding in the heavy downpour. I was in two minds whether to go ahead or to take a u-turn and go to some restaurant close by. But I didn’t want nature to have the upper hand. I kept going wondering when the rain will cease…whether the rain gives up first or do I?
By this time my clothes were dripping wet and stuck to the body. Luckily the helmet protected my head from getting wet. I kept on and finally it was at the third flyover on SP road that the rain Gods relented, the roads were dry and that’s when I picked up speed and went as fast as I could. It was 1:45 pm and I was determined to make it to both—a grand lunch and the movie. I reached Bikanerwala at around 1:52 pm and looked hungrily forward to the temptingly sumptuous spread ahead. As soon as I was seated, I was served cold water. I drank thirstily but thought, ‘damn it, who needs cold water when I was already shivering with cold!', but I was thirsty. Luckily for me, a hot hot tomato shorba was served. Shorba is a diluted version of our regular tomato soup with some tadka in it. I was more than glad to have this hot liquid pass down my throat. Then two starters were served—the bajji/bhaaji of brinjal and cauliflower which was quite mediocre in taste and a dish of paneer and capsicum sautéed and served with a teeny teeny portion of mint chutney. The paneer starter was ok in taste. The chutney vanished in no time and also the soup. I asked for more of each. I waited and waited and the starters got over and still no sign of soup or chutney. By this time, the urge to have more soup went away. I looked around to see what else was there. There was the spread of salads. First the Cole slaw— this was shredded cabbage with minuscule portions of diced red and green capsicum tossed in a lot of mayonnaise. This preparation was then placed in ice. The taste would have been enhanced if there were more of the capsicum bits and not the few pieces here and there. Also the cabbage wasn’t really chopped finely…so the end effect was that you were eating a cabbage swathed in mayonnaise. I also served myself some tossed salad made of different vegetables. This was more or less blandish and watery. Then there was the sprouted moong, which I gave a miss, dhoklas and fried dhoklas. The very spongy and soft dhoklas were great with the right mix of sour, salt and sweet taste. The fried dhokla was new to me and I bit into it with great anticipation. But found that the dhoklas had merely been tossed in the khatta meetha chutney …too sweet for me. Raw carrots, vinegared onions and thinly shredded onions were also there. 
After the salad plate, next was the main course. There were three curries: malai makai mutter, a panner curry and the baby corn capsicum. All three were good in taste. The malai methi mutter had a creamy white base, a smooth taste to it and an overpowering feel of butter. The gravy in the paneer dish was quite tasty but because of the huge chunks of paneer, the taste of the gravy doesn’t really come through. The baby corn capsicum masala was just good with no outstanding taste. Next, I eyed the much spoken of and the much anticipated chaat section…the pani puris, the dahi bhaallas and the papdi chaat. Took the 6 pieces of mouth watering panipuris offered, served with a mini glass jar of red and green paanis. So much paani for 6 pieces? Doesn’t make sense! And just as I thought, the pani sure got wasted. Next I tried the dahi bhallas. Served one per plate, the dahi bhalla was soft but had no taste by itself. The taste was rendered by the curd and all the powders and spices added. However, the spiciness was smothered by the overtly sweet khatta meetha chutney added to it. Thumbs down for the chaat section—maybe good for people who haven’t tasted the authentic golgappas… otherwise a major let down. Couldn’t take the papadi chaat as I was almost full but didn’t want to leave without tasting the Chinese food though Chinese isn’t my favorite part of a meal. The veg noodles were done well and I enjoyed the taste though it came towards the end of my meal. The accompanying wet gravy served with onion, carrots and broccoli was a good accompaniment too. Also had biryani with raita. The raita was good but the biryani tasted as though it was only cooked rice. There really anything much to taste in it except for a paneer here and there—extremely bland in taste. Had a peep at the namkeen section and was surprised to see that they had only three varieties. I had expected many more from the famous Bikanerwaala…just some paapad and chips…really not much.
Having done with the meal, I sat down for the dessert. Hot gulab jamuns quite small in size were great in taste. Looked forward to Malpuas with great anticipation but this proved to be a major let down as it was not soft at all and was extremely sweet. I wanted to taste these two sweets made in- house…otherwise it had the usual pastries, ice cream and rasagullas served in any other restaurant in Hyderabad.If you were to ask what amongst all dishes carried the stamp of Bikanerwala, I am afraid the answer is none.
The number of waiters serving is probably not sufficient as they couldn’t quickly cater to your order. The naans that I ordered for also took some time coming, but again what’s good is that the plates are quickly cleared …no mess around on ones table.
Ambience: 3/5. Food: 3.5/ 5. Washrooms: 4/5. Priced at 265/- for buffet was a little too much, I felt.
I had been to the washrooms on my earlier visit but today I found the floor quite wet.
Saw that the time was already 2:50 pm and the movie is at 3 pm. I rushed with the desire to drive as soon as possible to the theater just about 3 kms away when suddenly the rain started through the sun was blazing. I knew that I will not make it as my driving will again be slowed by the rain. The damn rain stopped exactly ten minutes later as though only to stop my going to the movie.
While returning I saw that the entire SP road stretch which had been washed clean by the incessant rain in the morning stood innocently dry and dusty as though it hadn’t seen rain in years. Had to concede that the rain Gods won today.
Tere bin laden has no more shows from Friday...Tere bin...bin tere ghar wapas aana pada.

My promotion

I was thinking in the afternoon today that I dont get angry any more...I used to have fiery tempers earlier...not any more. I felt saddened at the thought that all passions are slowly dying inside me...I was wondering whether I am just living like an inanimate object. In the evening, I happened to see my annual appraisal letter and saw that I was promoted...a long awaited one.I couldnt believe what I saw and then all barriers broke down and I cried and cried for 2 hours...tears of getting acknowledged at last! I am still capable of passion?!

The Making and Eating of Aloo paratha

As you make a cup of the dough , and fill the cup with a small ball of boiled and mashed aloo, let deft fingers take over and seal the edges making it like your ‘modakas’ made during ganesh pooja.
Quickly make a ball out of it and roll it out….as thin as possible. Put it on the waiting hot tawa. Turn it over. Wait for it to turn a little brown…smear some oil/ghee/dalda and then see it browning nicely, puffing in places. As you keep pressing with the spatula that you hold…it keeps puffing. Watch the brown spots getting fried in the small droplets of oil simmering around the paratha and turn a little black.
{If the paratha is just about seven inches across, it has more chances of puffing rather than the large ones…moreover it is of the right size to eat before the next hot one is on the way.}
Slide it on to your plate. Put a dollop of butter and some achar at the side. Tear the hot paratha with your hands, dip in the butter. Before the paratha gets a chance to melt the butter, quickly dip in the achar, roll it and put in your mouth. The combination of fried potato, achar and butter makes it so uuuuuuuuummmmmm ……..yummy!


Disclaimer: This post is not about giving a recipe or profess proficiency in preparing the (slurp! slurp!) aloo paratha

God's hand...

The weather in Hyderabad is playing funny..it had rained for a few days and then suddenly it had become hot and oppressive once again. Here's one day when I was taking a hot water bath and another day a cold one…all this and the hectic roaming around the last week took a toll on health. I was down with a sore throat and cold. Didn’t go to office for two days and then finally ventured out today. The sky looked threatening but how much longer can one stay at home? I parked my bike at Mayfair and got into the office bus.

As I walked into the office, it started raining just as I thought. And when it rains, it pours! In the evening, I started back from office and walked towards the parking lot, sure to get drenched. I didn’t have any option but to keep walking as otherwise, I would miss the bus. Just as I started walking, there was another girl who was also walking towards the bus , saw me and came close to me to share her umbrella. I was so touched and happy. The existing condition of cold and cough would have aggravated if not for this help.

When I reached Mayfair, there was still a drizzle. I took out my bike hoping to reach home as soon as possible. And saw to my dismay that someone had deliberately taken the air out of the back tyre. I despaired. I set out when people assured that there is a puncture-wala shop nearby…I kept going but found that all those road-side shops had closed due to the rain today. To add to the woes, I saw that the regular route I take was inundated because of which I needed to take a detour. All this happened with my driving at 5 kmph.I didn’t know what to do as there weren’t any shops to help me with my problem. Towards the end of the road I saw a mechanic who was helping accessorize a car . The name of the car accessories shop is ‘Solar Shades’ at Minster road. When I approached him, he said that there wasn’t any way that he can help me. But there was another person from the same shop standing nearby who overheard this conversation and turned to the shop window and spotted a car air pump which was on display. He asked his mechanic to try that. They opened the new box for me and plugged in the air pump to fill up the deflated tyre of the scooter. This man who helped me is Dilip. I am so grateful to him. In that rain, if it weren’t for his help, I don’t know when I would have reached home.