Who am i to judge?

Who am I to judge?

It is human tendency to form an opinion about someone .Bias exists across society.  Anyone who doesn’t conform to our way of thinking is quickly stereotyped and put in some box or labeled some ‘type’.

I remember my conversation with my great grandfather, Anna (the non-initiates may refer to my earlier blog ‘Bala aahe ka’) after my first day in a new school… 

Anna: Did you make any friends?

 Me: Pulkit.

Anna: Pulkit means what? 

 Me: Don’t know, will find out.

 So the next day I asked Pulkit and came home and told Anna “Pulkit says Pulkit means happy”. 

He shook his head with an exasperated grimace and rephrased the question “What is Pulkit?” 

With my limited knowledge of grammar, I felt the question sounded wrong. I was nine. 

He then went on to clarify “Is he a Brahmin or Non Brahmin?”

 I shrugged and said “Don’t know, he is just my friend”. 

That was the era when all South Indians thought that all North Indians were Punjabis and all North Indians thought that all South Indians were Madrasis. 

Even today, many people still think that Tamil, Malayalam, Kannada & Telugu are all the same language classified under “Undu Gundu”.

Other than the Indian language bias, there was also this tendency to judge people by the way they spoke English or by the music they listened to or the movies they watched. There was a phase when anyone who listened to non English music or preferred 

speaking in Hindi or their mother tongue was termed a “Vern”, short for vernacular.

 I have met some amusing people. I knew this guy who said “b@!!$” instead of “b%b$” For example “Mosambi Chatterjee has very nice b@!!$” I must say that his choice of words in describing  the female anatomy was rather unusual.

This chap also had this weird nail on the little finger of his left hand which he let grow and it was almost two inches long. He even applied nail polish on it so he had a pink pinky.  His ‘cutiecolour ‘choice was indeed disconcerting.

People are also judged by the way they dress. When I was a kid, if a guy wore pink or an earring, he was considered gay. As I grew older I realized that some guys like to wear pink or earrings and that’s ok and I now understand  that some  guys  are gay and that’s ok too.

There was also this phenomenon of the ‘tikli type’... Girls who wore western outfits but had a bindi on their forehead.  I suppose that comes from the Hindu tradition in some families where girls always have a bindi. I now think that it’s totally their choice and one should respect that.

Coming to think of it, that Mosambi Chatterjee fan wasn’t exactly my bosom buddy but was a very helpful guy who once rushed me to the hospital when I hurt my ankle and ensured that I was ok.

I admit I had a tendency to judge people on their appearance or by the way they spoke, but I am trying to change.

 So I started accepting that people are different and everyone isn’t like me. The way they are could be because of their upbringing, culture, social environment or just how they are wired.

It’s not that I have become a saint or that I don’t judge people anymore.

It’s just that I try not to judge people by their English skills, sense of dressing, food habits or even sexual inclination.

I do, however, still form opinions based on their conduct, attitude and behaviour. 

I just keep it simple and divide people into two categories. Those who are

Chu#iyas  and those who are not!

Music to my ears...

Music to my ears…

I usually write about stuff that is close to my heart and I felt like writing about music.

I didn’t know where to start, so i just closed my eyes and let my thoughts takeover. Many random memories flashed across my mind’s eye and I just decided to delve into them some more.

Born in a Tam Bram family, my earliest recollection was the sound of carnatic music. M.S. Subbulakshmi’s Suprabhatam would resonate in the mornings. It would be rudely interrupted by the hooting of the pressure cooker as the kitchen would be bustling with activity. Looking back it sounded like some beatbox retro remix which went “Utthishto  pfsssssht  uthhishta  govinda  pfsssssht …”

We had a Philips radio. The radio had this green indicator in the middle like Shiva’s third eye, which showed how accurately you have tuned it. Again, the top of the mind recall  is “Blk blk Akashvani blk blk Ta nenene ne ne, ne  neneneneeei blk jisme hain Amitaaabh Bachchan blk saying au revoir blk  klb of your date with me next Sunday blk blk Panipat se Sandeep Madan, Jhumri telaiya se Pappu, Chintu Meenu aur unke bahut saare saathi blk...”

Somewhere in my teens I became a big Kishore Kumar fan. The challenge was to record songs played on Vividh Bharati onto cassettes. Then keep the cassette’s position rewound and ready to record the next song on the wish list. Technology got better and we could record tape to tape and even speed dub.

I was more of a lyrics maven at that point. I knew the lyrics of many songs by heart and did not pay much attention to the music or the composition.

Someone who made me appreciate the composer, music and the composition was Uncle V, my brother’s dad in law. He had a child like enthusiasm about life in general and music in particular. He was an audiophile who had a fancy Nakamichi deck with Bose speakers. I once committed the blasphemy of teasingly provoking him with a “What’s so great about this system?” He sprang to his feet and made me sit on a chair, bang in the middle of both the speakers. He played a classic on a vinyl record after cleaning it as delicately as you would clean a baby’s bottom and said “Listen carefully, Now…. did you hear the gallant flute taking over from the humble violin in the background?” I obediently said “Yes”. He spread his arms wide and looked at me like a professor who finally made his dumb pupil understand a formula and triumphantly said “It was meannnnt to be heard!”

Since then, I have been engrossed in all aspects of the song. I must add here that my interest in music is inversely proportionate to my ability. I am ‘musically challenged’! Maybe that’s why I am bowled over because it confounds me to even get into the mind of a composer, lyricist or singer. I have been picking the brains of the maverick genius and friend, Shantanu Moitra, during our yearly reunions and have had fascinating sessions of music.

Shantanu sent me a link of a tune that he composed while travelling in the Himalayas saying “This tune just came to me when I was in the tea gardens…!”

How a little seed in the composer’s mind blooms into a lilting melody with music and words and a mellifluous voice is mesmerizing for a layman like me.

 I confess i can’t multi task. I can’t do many things at one time. In fact, mostly I can’t even do one thing at one time! So when I listen to music, I only do that and try and observe the nuances as much as possible without reading or doing some chores. Reminds me of this story about Viv Richards facing Malcolm Marshall in a county game...the story goes that  something disturbed him. He pulled away and walked down the pitch, past Marshall, past the umpire. Suddenly, in no man's land, he stopped. "Hey you, you, yes you," he shouted with withering accusation to an alarmed spectator above the sightscreen, who was idly thumbing the pages of the Daily Telegraph. "You got David Gower at slip; Robin Smith in the gully, Malcolm Marshall is bowling to Vivian Richards, and you reading the effing newspaper!"

I feel that way when i think “Lyrics by Gulzar, Music by RD Burman, Sung by Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar...” the least I can do is give my undivided attention!

Nostalgia is nice, but modern technology and my iPod is better! All the songs that I want, just a touch away.It is such an incredible feeling! A book, my iPod and headphones are always in my bag.

Music has been a wonderful companion in my journey. The philosophy in many songs has helped me deal with challenges thrown in life. It has lifted my mood, soothed my mind and even made me smile.  It has always been there for me.

It also taught me the difference between hearing and listening. So when someone talks I try to listen…