Leaving Your Stamp on the Sands of Time

This is about our national obsession for stamping everything. From the ubiquitous request for a revenue stamp on anything and everything, to the so-called stamp duty on real estate buying and selling, to many other things, we leave a stamp everywhere. Wonder if we can ever stamp these tendencies out, the way we have tried to stamp out cholera, typhoid, diphtheria, the plague, polio and a few other deadly diseases?

The recent announcement that we will attempt to remove the “stamp” on hand baggage must be great news for hi-frequency fliers. Ours could be the only country that is still using this technique of ensuring high employment to the “stampers” who insist on stamping, and then checking for the stamp two times at least, before letting you into the craft.

The only activity of a similar kind I have seen abroad is in the waiting line for a passenger bus leaving Suvarnabhumi airport. To identify the people, the staff puts a sticker on their shirt, while they wait. 

Maybe we can have a reward for someone who collects the maximum number of stamps from his life? An incentive to deal with being stamped-upon?

Weekend Wanderings

When you wander out, you learn a lot. On some recent wanderings, I had the following great learnings.

The bus crowd behaves the best, particularly when it's a sleeper bus. The reason? It immobilises you, and you can only lie down, and do no mischief- except snore. In the case of air passengers, they try to achieve the same by putting the service trolley in the aisle, and preventing you from moving, but passengers take revenge by springing up like an unsprung toy doll the moment the plane lands, even before instructed. And then wait forever at the baggage belt for their checked luggage.

In trains, people move forever. Mostly to check on the loos. If there is water in the loo, or sometimes to inspect which one is clean enough to use. Immobilising strategies don't work, except on the train itself, for lack of a green signal, particularly just outside its destination station.

Also, in a train, you cannot escape constant noise- from vendors selling almost anything- I won't be too surprised if Airbus and Boeing salesmen started vending their wares through brochures soon. The platforms on stations give you choices of local delicacies, and now Railways are threatening to offer mobile apps for ordering food delivered to your coach. Soon, I can order a Hyderabadi biryani while in Nagpur- or maybe not.

All these apps aside, someone forgot to remind them that a Cleanliness Drive is sweeping the nation (pardon the pun). The cleanliness was better around twenty years ago. Well, one can either have gourmet food, coach-delivered, or cleanliness. Not both. Given the airline food, I'll take the gourmet food any day. And wait for cleanliness to arrive some day.

The Unbearable Lightness of Moving

The feeling that you get when moving is unique, and I am liking it. When your house gets slowly stripped of its mute occupants- the furniture, the clothes, the cupboards (yeah, we still haven't graduated to wardrobes, if you are reading this from the developed world), and cooking utensils/pots and pans, and stuff like that. And you never know for sure if you'll see them all again. Usually you do, though.

What I feel is akin to a taking a bath in a tub, somewhat, for the feeling of slowly being enveloped by a soothing lightness, and the water creeping up on you as you slowly sink in.

What it also signifies is a new beginning, which you are normally very reluctant to make, but you don't have a choice in this case. And new beginnings are always exciting, for you don't really know what they'll bring. It's always a lot of unexpected things, though. You almost invariably make new friends, and are forced to re-evaluate old ones. Hopefully, this adds to your positive world view, and makes you a better person, having to adjust to a new reality and geography, and people.

In my case, there is also a re-evaluation of the files/books and papers that I like carrying around and that clogs up the storage space. Earlier, I used to be obsessed by photographs (the analog variety), but I have got over it now- fortunately for my luggage carriers.

So it shall be Delhi for me soon, and the Bong stronghold of Chittaranjan Park will be the abode for the foreseeable future. Here's to fish curry and rice! IMT Ghaziabad will no doubt dish out its own delights at lunchtimes.

Light Baggage, Easy Journey

Those who travel a lot know the value of travelling light. The less the baggage, the easier the journey. For ourselves and others whom we affect. But such a common-sensical understanding eludes us when we come to the journey of life.

When you think back (if you are in my age bracket), some of our happiest days were when we possessed very little. But let us for a moment go beyond possessions. The baggage of the mind is also a tough thing to carry with us. Who did what to us when, and how we are going to make him/her pay for it, or to change their way of thinking or living (the fond hope of all spouses is to change the other, and that of parents, to change their children- both with little success), are thoughts that occupy a lot of our time.

What if we lightened up? Think about what we are enjoying, and which no one can touch. In India, in addition to air and water, we have liberty, freedom of speech (unless you are Rushdie or a similar persona non grata), rule of law (even if it is slow at times), and a lot more to be thankful for. Even gas connections are usually available now, which was not the case around 20 years ago. Education is also accessible to most, and barring foreign travel, which may be difficult for some given the rising dollar/falling rupee, you have pretty much everything.

Even structuring time available to us. We have a choice of pursuits, from watching Ekta Kapoor serials or Big Boss (yes, some find them entertaining), or reading, or watching films (downloaded ones are apparently available somewhere in the world), or playing with our kids. Do we shed the mental baggage and enjoy what we have? We should. Because we can.