Where do we go from here?

I was on vacation these last two weeks. And I decided not to travel comfortably so I accepted the free tickets offered me by Citibank. To say the least, after angry shoutings at the customer support personnel and probing intrusively to get the PNR number from them, I still have not received the e-ticket in my email box as promised by them. But this is not about how inefficient Citibank can be. It is about me and others like me.

The Air Deccan flight from Bangalore was late. And I did not know that one has to stand in queue a good one and a half hour early, infact immediately after checking in, to board the plane. 'Free seating' I am told. One can sit where one pleases. If I do not stand in front of the line, I do not have a chance at getting the best seat.(Other things great about Indians) What really is the best seat anyway. And it is not as if Air Deccan is suddenly going to say, "We are sorry we have just about space for another person. See you in tomorrow's flight". I pulled up my nose and scoffed and decided to go in after all the desperate passengers were on board.

Of course once on board, I realised one does not have much choice in the matter of standing an hour in queue. As I walked down the aircraft and tried to take an empty seat, I was quietly informed, "This seat is taken". And there I was, sailing down the aircraft with people on both sides saying, "This seat is taken". It was somewhere right at the back that I got a seat but no overhead luggage space. I had to slip my cabin baggage under the seat.

So what is the point? Surprisingly, I do not know. I do not have the slightest clue and worse, I might just stand in queue the next time. Of course that does bring up memories of my college days in Pilani.

BITS Pilani has a unique educational system in which one need not attend classes at all. Another unique aspect is that, one has to reserve one's place in the class much before the lecture starts. Preferably, right in front under the lecturer's nose. And so, early morning and as early as the night before, one of us in the hostel wing would go and book these seats using our semester timetable booklets. On top would be written in bold letters, 'BOOKED FOR 3rd HOUR. RAKU's CLASS'. Then all we had to do was to swagger into the classroom, even a little late, and still have the best seats waiting for us. It is not as if there was not enough space unless it was a multisection course and all students had to attend the 'popular' lecturers. For those classes which had only a single lecturer, it was all about being noticed by the lecturer and the infinite opportunity to suck up to the great one at the black board.

This year has seen a lot of unrest in the country, particularly with the issue of reservation for OBC (Other Backward Classes) students in Post Graduate medical courses. I feel strongly about the fact that it is seen as a sure digression from meritocracy. What is happening in reality is an outcome of the social inequality that we allowed in our civilization. From the time when education itself was a privilege for the upper classes or for that matter the Brahmins in particular, till now, when we are finally realizing that one does not attain greatness by birth and that the once subjugated classes of dalits, harijans and OBCs form a majority of the voting population quite capable of swinging the balance of power towards any political party, India is awakening to real peoblems. Therefore, as a means of appeasement, the HRD ministry decided to allocate a greater share of the resources (in this case opportunity for higher education in medical studies) to this vote bank. It is an investment mind you and one that no opposition will condemn for fear of inviting the wrath of the voters. Hence the silence while unrest prevailed.

So I have come to realise one truth. Be it the seat on an Air Deccan flight or the 'seat' of opportunity to pursue a higher degree in medical studies, I have to accept the reality of reservation. In the first case it is first-come-first-serve and in the latter, last-come-first-serve. My observation is that it might be a natural course in the development of a civilization of diverse ethnic/socio-economic/religious groups. The fact that a stronger section of society had suppressed a weaker section in the past causing the latter to remain 'backward' and that in a democracy, equality is a fundamental tenet, the urge to equalize all sections be it via resource allocation or representation is but natural. So is the opposition to such factors because one cannot afford to share in the face of dearth of opportunities. And no matter what the socio-economic conditions are, one cannot explain to a student that though his grades are higher he has still been passed over by one more deserving by virtue of his belonging to a backward class. And coupled with the corruption in this country, it is indeed a question to be asked; "Where do we go from here?"

Tele Tubbies I

One of the greatest things about my family is its immense capability to worry over trivial matters. And that is putting it mildly. The other great capability is to make light of the most pressing of matters and be nonchalantly blissful. It is no wonder that Lala (the third child) grew up to be the greatest hypochondriac I ever did know.

I promised her that I would never write about her great worries. But being the impish elder brother that I am, and having written at length about Po(the 4th child Tele Tubbies), it is time I expand a little on Lala as well.

Long, long ago when Po was yet out of the picture, Tipsy and Lala played "house house". They took mother's shawls and sarees and bed sheets and towels and pinned them all together with many cloth clips, into a tent of some sort. Into that dwelling they took in all their worldly belongings that consisted of two sets of plastic toy dinner sets, two dolls in presentable condition and innumerable others with missing limbs, painted faces, disfigured and discoloured; in short, the remnants of fights, misadventures and inspiration common in the game of "house house" as many will know. And then, while Tipsy and Lala had a domestic feud, Lala fell and hit her head against the sharp edge of a table. Down came the makeshift tent and with it all the inmates.

Mother screamed at the top of her voice and father rushed to the unfortunate site and lifted poor Lala. She would need stitches; three of them. Right at the forehead. This was, in my opinion, the greatest (or atleast one of the greatest) breakthroughs in Lala's life. For henceforth, we would have no peace over sneezes, mosquito bites, bruises, sprains, hair loss, loss of appetite...I could really go on. However, since Lala would not have me suffer her many fits, I shall refrain from mentioning most of them but one when she was 9 years old.

Tipsy and Lala were at it again. "Doctor doctor" this time. They donned mother's aprons and an old stethoscope and played doctor and nurse with their patients who indeed were in a toy hell of their own with lost limbs and disfigured faces now being torn apart and reassembled, much worse off than they were when they entered the OT(ER) of our great family doctors. While turning to get a ball of cotton from Lala, Tipsy accidentally jabbed Lala's ribs with her elbow. Lala went into a spasm of self pity and pain and yelled with all her might. Poor mother came rushing. She took Lala in her arms but Lala would not be consoled. She swore that one of her ribs had been moved.

"It cannot dear. If a bone could move like that, you would not be in one piece. It will pain so much that you would have fainted", mother reasoned.

"I am in pain. What do you know", screamed Lala renewing her wails and groans.

Mother had to check Lala's ribs. And then poor mother's face fell. Sure enough, one of Lala's ribs seemed to protrude more than the rest. Did I tell you that Lala is by far the 'skiniest' that anyone in our family could ever achieve. She has long been the envy of her closest friends, even Tipsy. And in a household of not so skinny children, the skinniest is also by default the frailest, the weakest, the dearest, the most pampered i.e. before Po came, in a plump package, and drastically changed the family equation.

We each took turns at poking and feeling Lala's protruding rib while she sat there quite melancholic and martyred. Mother took the next day off and got an X-Ray done.

Ofcourse nothing was wrong! Doctor uncle prescribed tonics and mother kept Lala under close watch. She still does.

Finally Tipsy became a doctor. All the children except for Po have moved out of the house, pursuing careers. Lala stays close to where I stay while Tipsy is quite far away. We keep in touch through the telephone.

And then one day my phone rang. It was Lala.

"I have this gigantic growth inside one of my nostrils. It has greatly compromised my nasal passage on one side. Looks like a tumor of some sort. Do you think I should go for a biopsy?"

"Did you see an ENT?"

"What do they know. It is local cell growth. Definitely a cyst or tumor. I hope it is not malignant. I know all about them. I read about malignant cell division in my last semester".

I thought for a moment. "Well it could be you know. But you cannot get a biopsy done till your ENT specialist refers you to one. Why don't you call Tipsy. She is the doctor in the house".

"I'll do that. Bye". She hung up.

Then Tipsy called. "Lala sounds very ill. I have ruled out tumor but it can be an oedema or a polyp. Polyps spread. Oh God! Why don't you get her checked up". Mother called on the other line. I put Tipsy on hold and received mother's call.

"Lala sounds quite upset. You know how she is. Might be an allergy. Get her to go to an ENT. I want a report by the evening".

"Yes maam!" She hung up.

"Are you there? As I was saying, if it is a polyp, it will spread. I have treated so many of these cases. Oh and she is so thin. It will require surgery. But the scars remain...."

I hung up in disgust. Called Lala and shouted at the top of my voice. "GET TO AN ENT AND GIVE ME A REPORT BY THE EVENING!!!"

Meanwhile Tipsy called Dad. He called me to ask how Lala was. I said it was an allergy. He was satisfied. Then mother called and this time she was worried because Tipsy had called her too.

"I am really worried. Take her to the ENT yourself. Make sure he does all the tests. Why does it have to be my poor Lala?"

In the evening, Lala called. She was speaking through her nose.

"I have a migraine."

"What! What now?

"I went to the doctor. He said it is an allergic reaction. Quite common due to the pollution in Bangalore. He has given a spray. But I have a migraine. Too much stress. I don't even know if this anti-histamine is contraindicated in the case of migraine. What should I do? I think I will ask him again."

"Lala, you protruding rib, polyp a.k.a. allergy in the nose, affected insufferable hypochondriac. I shall pack you up in a parcel and send you back home".

"You are heartless".

The last time I spoke to her, just two days ago, she had a stomach ache. And I have just asked her to get a liver function test done.