Sunday 15 February 2009

Lessons in survival




I walked into the shop in Jamison centre in MacQuarie, Canberra, where my son’s school uniforms are sold. I was accosted by a saleswoman in her mid thirties, grinning from ear to ear.
“Hi“ She said, “ How are you today?”
“I am good“, said I
“ What can I do you for you Honey? She asked
I swallowed hard, suddenly at a loss for words… Honey? The she turned around to another lady customer of African origin and said
” Just a moment sweetie, I’ll be with you in a while” .
I sighed. Must be her way of familiarity and friendliness with all customers, I thought. I told her that I had given my son’s uniform for embedding the school emblem. I couldn’t come earlier to pick it up.
She said :"Wow … That’s wonderful” still smiling
I failed to see what could be so wonderful about such an ordinary thing. “What is the name of your son?” She asked.
I told her Chathu’s real full name, which is quite a mouthful.
“ That’s fantastic“, she said.
I failed to see what was so fantastic about his name which ought not to have made any sense to her. Except that it rolls off the tongues of Caucasians much easier than mine does. She went in, picked up the packet and gave it to me.
“Is that the one, dear ?” She asked. I confirmed, yes.
“ That’s great. Have a wonderful day“, she said and I stumbled out in a daze into the afternoon sun. That is a strong dose of Australian attitude- peppy, lively, reaching out and putting others at ease...

Now, I have always been a modest guy for two important reasons. (a) I like modest guys and I like to help them out. I believe that there are many out there like me and by being at my modest best, I would like to be benefited by their kindness and
(b) I have much to be modest about.
Life in Delhi could make one seriously rethink that philosophy. Three years in the Capital of India and I am convinced that the meek shall be crushed to the earth; far less than inheriting any of it. Body language, good tailoring and attitude counts for much in Delhi. It is how you walk in to a place that will determine the treatment you get from anyone. This is true as much for the power corridors of South Block as it is for the flea market in Chandni Chowk. Australia looks like reinvesting me with a belief in the essential goodness of people.
There have been times when I was wandering around, puzzled, looking for a place, when someone would ask me whether I am alright. The Bus drivers smile and wish you as you get in. A brief chat about the weather follows to the regulars as they swipe the card. It is the same driver in our route and even passengers are more or less the same. There is no hurry as the driver waits for passengers to search for their card/ coins/cash. When we thank them as we go out, they might respond with a deep “No worries mate”. That’s Australian for "You are welcome" or "don’t mention it"…
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The greatest development of Australian life is that Chathu now is a responsible citizen. In Delhi we had a host of maids keeping us going round the clock and I suspect he used domestic help to get the socks off his feet as he came in from school. Now he opens the house, heats the chapattis, microwaves the curry, eats, washes the plates, helps to hang up the washing. I am impressed. He is chilled out about school. Says he is treated like an adult out there. That scares me. No homework, not much pressure…He won’t be fit for the Great Indian School rat race when he gets back. In any case I have serious doubts about him making it to the IITs and IIMs. You can see the pictures of him washing the plates and putting out the clothes to dry....

Monday 9 February 2009

Australia Day

Two hundred and twenty one years ago a seven ship flotilla led by Capt Arthur Philip landed on the Coast of a strange continent, carrying 1500 odd men and women accused of crimes ranging from stealing a book on Tobago, cucumber plants to drunkenness, prostitution and habitual gambling. One ought to remember that those accused of capital crimes were given a swift dose of English justice which put an end to their incarceration in English jails as well their tenure on mother earth. So, we are left with petty criminals, who were led to crime by either by circumstances or by design. Not even one who would figure up there in the hall of fame of crime.
Almost the first thing I do before I travel to any other country is try to find out if Bill Bryson has written on it and if he has, to read it. How I would love to commission him to write a book on India. It might take a lot more persuasion for him to put up with the dust, heat and unsafe drinking water. But it will be a roaring read, I am sure. It was Bill Bryson’s “Down Under” that gives me several nuggets of information that might look silly but falls into the big picture perfectly . Like the following
a) Did you know that a French Ship commanded by Count Jean Francois de La Perouse had also approached the coast of Australia at the same time as Arthur Phillip did? They did a gentlemanly retreat seeing that the English had got there first and were surveying the land ashore. (Thus condemning Australia to two hundred years of English cuisine, says Bryson). Think about the consequences if the French had got there first. Apart from driving cars on the right side of the lane, we would have had a republic not so fun loving and boisterous people. Not a pleasant thought having rather boring French nobility with guttural sounds and soft consonants, constantly worrying about seating arrangements at every meal. The cargo of petty convicts could have then got dumped elsewhere in South East Asia, New Zealand or India adding to the general complexities existing in such places. Or did the French Count decide to beat a retreat after seeing the cargo of convicts that the English were carrying ? One would never know. One might laugh about the origins of this country but from such beginnings they have built a law abiding citizenry, as we, with 5000 years of culture and heritage are slowly sinking into chaos and lawlessness.
Did you know that Australia is the only country where a serving Prime Minister was swallowed by the sea ? Or that it is the only democracy which has a head of State in another continent ? (it is not a republic and the Queen continues to reign) Politicians are the same everywhere if one were to discern from the kind of questions that are raised in their Parliament. Australian politicians are much better dressed than Indian ones and hence one is inclined to pardon the inanities that fall out from their mouths. One wouldn’t be so forgiving with the pajama clad cow belt politician, or the communist MP in bathroom slippers saying pretty much the same thing in a different setting. This city is full of streets named after dead Prime Ministers and politicians. In that respect they have outdone us.
After hitting these shores, I have been straining to finish Manning Clarke’s short History of Australia- a history in colourful language not without the author’s personal view points, peppered with inconsistencies. Also Stuart Mc Intyre’s “A concise History of Australia”- more a people’s history. The unruly convict-passengers of the seven ships set up home on Jan 26th 1788 in Sydney cove. In Manning Clark’s words “On 26 January the convict transports moved into their new home as a handful of Aborigines on the shore set up a horrid howl and indicated by angry gestures with sticks and stones that the white man was not wanted. That night after the convicts were landed, the British flag was unfurled at Sydney cove, shots were fired, and toasts were drunk. It has been celebrated ever since as the day on which European civilization in Australia began”. It also signified the rapid displacement of the people of the land ; the aboriginal people who occupied the vast continent in vast numbers for over 100000 years, but now constitute 2 % of the population. I remember reading Bruce Chatwin’s “Songlines” a long time ago which sets forth the survival of this ancient race in a vast but cruel land. Much later in 1900s came the White Australia Policy which actively discouraged the immigration of coloured people into the country. Also the stolen generations- the policy of separating aboriginal kids from their natural parents to give them a civilized upbringing and education. So this is one country with much embarrassing beginnings.
I went for Australia day concert which was held on the eve of Australia Day on 25th January 2009. It was held in the parliament grounds at the heart of the city .The names of the bands which were playing sounded strange to me. I started my journey in a local bus .The bus was full of youngsters(mostly girls). Many of them were carrying crates of beer. Some of them looked sozzled with drink even before they reached the concert venue. It was a hot summer day. We got down at the commonwealth avenue and started walking towards the grounds. I could see hordes of scantily clad youngsters wearing Australia flags and striding purposefully to the venue. Many families were carrying picnic baskets, lounge chairs and crates of wine and beer. A few policemen were hanging around the place keeping an indulgent eye on the frolics. A neatly dressed cleaning crew was going around picking up empty beer cans and cigarette butts. The bands were up there playing loud music, but very few were listening or cheering. The stage was set for a night of revelry. Although the crowd looked reasonably sober at 6 pm it looked as if things would go out of control pretty soon. We made a quick exit. As we reached the road, a group of punks in a car with shaven heads shouted at us exhorting Indian F* ers to go home. I was tempted to shout back that this is not your home either….
My thoughts went back to the Indian republic day which is held on the 26 th January in Delhi- (Some coincidence, I must say). Delhi would have become a fortress. It would be a foggy winter morning. My colleagues and I would be busy with arrangements since it is a Defence Ministry function. Nothing could be carried to the venue- not even a glass of water. No mobiles, key chains. Every visitor is subjected to “Delhi Police Massage”- The Delhi Police would crudely run over a metal detector and gloved hands over your body before entering the venue. And one is left to stay in the morning chill of Delhi winter for hours as the tri services parade goes on. The geriatrics of the day, holding the reigns of power could be seen in the front rows cavorting with equals. The services band begins the music with a roll of drums. Although the atmosphere is colourful, it is a sombre, serious affair. Too humourless and a far cry from celebration of a republic. So what if Australia had convict antecedents. They celebrate nationhood in style. With crates of beer and rock bands of the day playing on the grounds. Where would you wish to be ? The choice is a no brainer.
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The pay of a babu may not be much. It still affords me a decent lifestyle in India. With the salary of the Missus bundled, it may not be luxury but it still keeps one’s head over water enough to buy lots of foodstuff, store it in the fridge, only to throw it all away uneaten weeks later, take a holiday once in while only to stay in Govt guest houses instead of hotels, buy a regular dose of books and music CD s only to leave them near the bedside unread and unlistened.
Life just took a turn for worse. We left India cleaning out all bank accounts and borrowing money to sustain us and educate our son. Efforts to sell the 7 year old to Maruti Zen partially fund this enterprise didn’t bear fruit. Our class mates are mostly from Pacific Island countries, SE Asia, Pakistan, SriLanka, Bhutan and Bangladesh. All of them on AusAid scholarships which makes education of children free in Australia. India and China do not accept Aus Aid and hence we have to pay dearly for an Australian Sarkari education in the ACT (Australian Capital Territory- often referred to as the state where Canberra is located; much like our NCR) Schools- nothing really much to write home about. Chathu is happy with the scene. No homework, no rat race to score well in exams, while we suffer trying to make ends meet. So many things which we take for granted in India cost a lot of money out here: Like cable TV, broadband internet and mobile/ landline services. I realize that these service providers have outsourced their marketing wings extensively. Each of the marketers have designed complex packages which would take hours for ordinary customers to understand. It is now about two weeks since we moved into the new home. We still don’t have broadband at home. I depend on the wi-fi at the University campus to connect. I also bought this brand new Asus Ee PC with a ten inch screen since my other laptop is too heavy to lug around in Canberra‘s public bus service. An expense that understandably the Missus fails to appreciate.
So we are scrounging our way. Eating out is expensive. The scholarship barely covers rent, utilities and chathu’s schooling expenses. So here we are, buying only what we need, not eating out much, travelling public transport (not exactly cheap) and looking for bargains in everything. We live frugally.
Surprisingly - it feels good…..Having only sandwiches packed from home, an apple and a bit of yogurt makes one feel good at the end of the day. In South Block, the endless cups of tea and a packed lunch could make one feel uneasy by late hours. I feel healthier here.
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My arrival in Australia coincided with Leonard Cohen’s tour of Australia. As luck would have it, he is not playing in Canberra. Apart from two concerts in Melbourne, he mostly plays in private vineyards on the way to Sydney. And the ticket prices are steep. (Of course that isn’t too much of a dampener). Maybe it was a lifetime opportunity for a Cohen fan like me. But I decided to let it go. Let’s see. If he and I live long enough and I am wealthy enough to travel and pay for the concert tickets, I might still get to see him live one day. Till then I’ll hear him on and on……