On how I lasted even when the power didn’t...

Well, this is no sad refrain from Somnath Chatterjee, Saurav Ganguly or even Dayanidhi Maran from my own backyard.

Just my outpouring, when the power snaps in the middle of my REM and refuses to come back. Serves me right for feeling great that the power went off only once in the morning – the mandatory 9-10 AM (it always goes off sharp at 9 but no guarantees on when it will come back!). No power cuts during the entire day. And, the Power Authority in Noida hit back with a vengeance and how!

Alright, I lie in bed, eyes tightly shut but hoping this is just part of a dream (or nightmare?). No, but it aint so. Half an hour later, I nudge a happily sleeping husband to part with his cellphone. It is 3:09 AM. Great. The IPL match ended around 12.30. I bugged Sakthi by insisting on talking about events of the day for another half an hour. I bet he has refined the art of mechanically saying yes, hmm, haa even while asleep. And, barely 2 hours later, there is no power.

I lie in bed with one eye shut – trying to tell myself that it is only to witness the miracle of power coming back at some point. Another 15 minutes (add up please! For the mathematically challenged, it is 3:24!) and I think it is a great idea to check mail and any FB updates. FB has 2 new notifications. Somebody has left a comment on somebody else’s status and somebody (it is a 3rd somebody) has commented on somebody (add up again! It is the 4th somebody now!) else’s photo. Great! Nothing useful for me.

I can understand that other Indians are not as power hungry (see? I can pun even with one eye shut!) as I am and are fast asleep. But, what the hell are my friends in other parts of the world doing now? I mean, somebody (5th somebody) should already be warming the coffee pot in Singapore – an early riser that is. Or somebody (6th – I give up, don’t you guys know to count at all?) in the La Land of the Free and Home of the Brave should be in a micro brewery (support the small guys in a recession), warming a seat there and drinking up beer in some happy hour scheme. How difficult is it to leave a consoling message for me? How cruel!

On to Gmail. Two messages. 1 Message from Satish Chetty on Apple’s Baby Shaker application which is reprehensible (quoted verbatim!). I mean, at this point, I am wide awake to notice polished nuances of an English journalist. Reprehensible? Dude! Just say it – Disgusting, Fuck all, Sucks or something. What is reprehensible? Are you writing down about Silvio Berlusconi’s lascivious remarks to his female cabinet colleagues? Even that is plain disgusting only!

Well, okay. The other one (there is no 7th somebody here, just referring to the 2nd message) is an offline message on Gmail chat from a friend about how he never received my birthday wishes left on his voicemail. I know where this is going. At this rate, my birthday is going to suck big time. What if everybody who forgets (or intends to forget) gives this same excuse?

As you can see, by 3.27 AM, I have had enough and I am pounding away at the keys. While Sakthi lies next to me still asleep. You know, what sounds like a gentle purr while the fan is running at full speed now sounds like an operatic crescendo belted out by Luciano Pavarotti. I am referring to Sakthi’s snore. I gently slap him (alright, I admit it was a little violent but then how much can you deal with in 1 night?) to sush him. He wakes up with a start, sits straight up and says this is why I need power back up (like it is some software application running on battery power on his laptop) and falls back to sleep.

I have a great idea for an Olympic sport - Mosquito bashing in the dark. These mini-monsters are in full swing now, attacking me with gusto. Even as I am lying in bed, one eye still shut (I don’t need to keep both eyes open to write this shit), they buzz around my ears. As if Mr Pavarotti was not enough to assault my ear drums. How difficult can it be to focus and just clap your hands and bringing about the glorious defeat and death of mini monstrous mosquitoes? I congratulate myself on chances of becoming India’s first female gold-winning Olympian. Who knows? With due apologies to Vijender Singh, if a Padma award does come my way, I may even skip the do a la the Indian skipper of the cricket team. Hey, wait! Is that why he is called the Skipper? He skipped the awards ceremony – see? Nay! Deadly mosquito bites don’t reduce my ability for stinging puns.

It is 4:03. I can’t take it anymore. Sakthi is duly woken up from his slumber and shown this inspired masterpiece. Sakthi grunts – good hai. I mean, does he have a choice? No power at home (no reference to his domestic status), a wife who is unable to sleep and vents with words, mosquitoes buzzing in his ear (rather than the hangover from two nights ago) – gotta give the poor guy a break.

On giving poor guys a break, the title of this piece may well refer to Manmohan Singh who lasted as India’s PM despite having no powers. Come on, we all know that Soniaji was the real power!

Children of the streets, cheese balls and chocolate ice cream

Sometime in 2003, I was in Bangalore with my friend Satish Chetty. We just took off to Sravana Belagola, Halebeedu, came back to Bangalore to catch the train. We had some hours to kill. We sat on a bench on MG Road and along came a little girl with some flowers in her hand. She would have been 7-8 years old. She begged me to buy. I don't wear flowers, I don't even believe in giving people cut flowers coz I hate to cut flowers from plants. I said no. She persisted. Please, buy - she said in kannada. I said no, I don't need it. She said please, I am hungry, I can buy milk for my brother. I said no again.

Satish who had gone to look up a friend, came back, overheard our conversation and said, "If you are hungry, we will buy you something." She seemed apprehensive but didn't want to let go off the opportunity. She quickly called another friend of hers. We walked across to somewhere near Gangaram book store. There was a small cart selling ice creams. The kids wanted ice cream and we got it for them. On our way back to the benches on the other side, the kid told me her story. Her father was sick and at home, unemployed. Mom worked somewhere, can't remember now. The kid went to school and in the evenings, came to MG Road along with her older kid friend to sell flowers. Went back home alone. I sat and chatted with her for sometime. Satish took a small video clip of us talking using the camera I had then. I still have the video but some format stuff has changed and I can't see it anymore.

A year later, I was at Devi Theatres on Mount Road in Chennai. Waiting for Sakthi to come so we could see the movie Autograph. We never reached any movie halls on time (we still don't) but this time I was there but waiting for him and he had the tickets too. I was in the parking lot when a 10-12 year old kid came and offered to polish my shoes. I wasn't wearing any. I was wearing something like sandals with cotton strips running across. I said no. These don't need polishing. The kid said Pasikkudhu akka (I am hungry, elder sister). I said, go away. He kept following me around - he had nobody else to go after. I was the only stupid person loitering in the parking lot. I tried getting rid of him but he was persistent. I knew he was very hungry. I said, come with me, I will buy you food.

I walked to a small shop across. There were lots of men trying to buy a cigarette, paan, quick fixes whatever. All that the shopkeeper had was packets of cheese balls - cost about Rs. 10 each. I bought two, gave it to the kid and said sit here and eat. The kid wanted to take it home, but I refused. These kids are usually bullied, adults in the racket snatch it from them, I didn't want that to happen. I said, "Eat in front of me or you lose both." The kid give in, opened a pack and ate at record speed. Satisfied, I went back to loitering. No sign of Sakthi... Five minutes later, I heard a kid wailing like crazy. It was the same boy and he came running to me. "Akka, Akka, help me." I asked him and he told that an older guy had snatched the second packet from him. I was furious. I ran over to him, found it was a 26-year old mute beggar who thought it was easy to terrorize a child. I went and slapped him, snatched back the packet. The guy was shocked and tried gathering support. I screamed at him about what he was trying to do and the crowd that gathered quickly melted away.

Yesterday, Sakthi and I went to Swarna Jayanthi Park at Indirapuram, where our new home is going to be. The park is nice, lots of benches to sit around, very clean and green. Perfect evening spent, we walked out. Carts with various food stuff lined the pavement - roasted chana and peanuts in one, bhel and pani puri in another, fruit chat in yet another, Mother Diary Ice cream in another. We walk towards the bike. One kid came running after us - Bhayyaji, Bhayyaji, ek rupaya de do (Brother, brother, give me 1 rupee). Sakthi was not listening. She came after me. Didiji, didiji, eka rupaya de do (Sister, sister, give me 1 rupee). I stood, smiled at the kid and asked what she would do with 1 rupee. She answered confidently - mein kuch cheez kareedoongi (I will buy something). "What can you buy with 1 rupee?" I asked her. She had no answer. I said, come with me, I will buy you something and you have to eat in front of me, okay? She nodded. Quickly, 5 other children joined. I looked at them and thought about what my friend Satish always tells me. The 10 or 5 odd rupees we give these people mean nothing to us.

I asked her what she wanted - she said, "Didiji, Didiji, chocolate ice cream khila do!" I took her to the cart, asked the guy to give 5 cones although there was a few month-old baby in the arms of another 5-6 year old kid. Gave everybody except the infant. The kid holding the baby asked, what about the baby? I said no, the kid cannot handle cold food. With the kid firmly held on one waist, she was struggling to open the wrapper with one hand. She couldn't. I put my hand out offering to help. She defiantly said no. May be, she was scared, I would snatch it back. She bit into the wrapper and kept at it till it came out. One kid wanted to take it home and I dissuaded her, this is ice cream, will melt, eat it here. After seeing 5 wrappers popped open, I climbed the bike and went home - really happy.

Just half an hour before buying the ice creams, I had seen 2 10-12 year old boys pushing little cars with 4-5 year old kids sitting in them. For the younger kids, this was fun paid for by parents who can't handle the pestering. For the older ones, this was work, a way to keep hunger at bay. All work and no fun. I sat there, feeling very sorry for them.

What is it about these kids that tug our hearts? Is it the irony? That we want the best for ourselves and our own children but somehow are able to walk past childhoods lost on the streets. Every time, I go to Great India Palace Mall in Noida, I see children (the law forbidding under-16 year olds to be employed be damned!), child servants taking care of kids barely a few years younger than them. How can the adults do it? I am a bleeding heart socialist. Sakthi is more practical. "These child servants at least get to eat everyday, better than being exploited on the streets." I see the logic but I hurt every time. As if, it is my personal failure.

I wash my guilt (or at least try to) by trying a few things. When I was in Gurgaon and drove my car a lot, I had a box of biscuits always with me. When begging children swarmed to the car at traffic intersections, I used to give away biscuits. Better than giving money which somebody will snatch. Anytime, a child catches me on the road and asks for money, I take them to a restaurant, shop or cart nearby and buy something to eat. I sit next to them and force them to eat, so adults don't snatch that either. Satish taught me this, "Buy food, don't give money - you don't know where the money will go." When I don't finish my meals at a restaurant, I diligently pack doggy bags, search for somebody hungry and hand over the food.

The Tamil poet Bharathi said "Thani oruvanukku unavu illai enil, jagathinai azhithiduvom." If there is no food for one man, the world shall be destroyed. I can't save the world. But, I can buy chocolate ice cream and cheese balls. It feels good, alright.