Here in the Under-Belly-1( Cildhood by Chenab)

For most of my life into adult-dom, I have had the unenviable privilege of living my life in distant non-descript places. These are the places whose names you might have heard only if you were a geography enthusiast perhaps and even then, you may haven't heard of them.

My father works for the Border Roads Organization whose job is to build and maintain the strategic roads in the tough terrains of our borders, most notably, those with China and Pakistan. Due to this he keeps getting posted at far off places and I have been to most of them.

I feel quite happy to have seen such places and people. Its great to know that how lives exist at the most distant of places, how there is a whole other reality away from the great cities which occupy most of the sound bytes and the written words generated.

Lately, there has been a trend of celebrating the average, the unknown and the underdog. Phrases like mofussil towns, small villages, little known hamlets have become very common.

The medal hauls of several of our athletes at the CWG has contributing in increasing the limelight glare.

The places these phrases describe have been the places I have lived most of my life in. Here are a few re-collections from that past.

THE BRIDGE

As far back as my memory goes and from the time I remember having memories of the world, I lived at a place called Ramban in the state of J&K.It was a small place behind which the tumultuous Chenab river flowed. Its water white and swirling due to the rapids... It was located on the way to Srinagar and came under the Jammu Province.

There was a small kindergarten school we walked to everyday. Me and my brother. Rehman bhaiya would accompany us to the school and back from there.

On the way to school there was a wooden bridge over a small rivulet. During the rains, the rivulet would swell and take on greater and dangerous proportion. The water would take on a brownish hue due to all the mud being washed from uphills. It always reminded me of the color of tea in a morning cup. It was like a river of tea. Once it rained so heavily that the bridge got washed away. In the morning it was there when we crossed it to go to school but when we were returning back, it was not there.

Rehman Bhaiya carried our bags and both of us one by one on his shoulders and crossed the rivulet on foot. Judging by the fact that he could do it on foot, the water couldn't have been very dangerous, but it did wash away the bridge. I have never found a satisfactory explanation for this but it really happened.

SCHOOL BAG

I loved my little school bag from the first day I saw it.It was green colored and completely made out of cloth except the metal fasteners for closing it. It didn't have the click-shut metallic clips that bags later started having. It was a 'basta' as it is called in hindi.

We used to sit on the floor in our classes as there were no desks or chairs. I cannot remember having ever studied anything. There were a lot of children and a lot of noise in the class. My fellow-students were mostly little girls and boys who came to the school from surrounding villages, the kids of the laborers who worked at Papa's sites and children of his peers. Everyday when the teacher came into the class,  I would open my bag to take out the notebook and pencil but everyone around would be busy in clamoring around. The teacher would enter the class and after writing alphabets on the black board get busy with some knitting or other stuff.

The class soon used to erupt into a total confusion and I would be more than happy to join in. At half-break, we would go out for playing. There was a senior girl in the school who would come to our class and play with children. She was particularly fond of taking me by the arms and then swinging in circles.

It was the kind of swinging movement that girls do in groups while holding hands across. You may have seen it in numerous Bollywood depictions of the heroine's home in the village where her pretty sisters and friends seem to have nothing else to do but giggle and run around in groups. 

Now when this swinging is done with a little kid, its really thrilling and enjoyable as you can feel your whole body lifted up with your legs extended in the air and going round and round. It was during one of these swinging sessions that my hands slipped out of her hands in mid air and after a momentous mid-air  flight I hit my head on a stone. All that I remember after that is waking up to see Rehman bhaiya's and all the kids' faces leaning over me in the classroom. It couldn't have been too long after the fall as I could feel the blood-wet shirt and it seemed my green bag had gone red too.After that I remember wanting to sleep.I just turned over and slept. 

The teacher and Rehman bhaiya must have had a hard time getting me to the hospital and getting the forehead bandaged. Surprisingly, I don't remeber feeling any pain. Its the case with most childhood injuries I've had. I don't remember screaming or crying in pain. Maybe its the case with everybody.

But that swing-and-fall injury gave me a scar on the forehead which remained prominent for some years. Unfortunately, it wasn't in the shape of lightning and in my later years, whenever i used to read Harry Potter, I would go upto the mirror and try finding similarity between my scar and the lightning scar. It was mostly gone by then and I used to be pretty disappointed at it.

Another thing that I must say here is that I wasn't a little kid when I first read Harry Potter, I was in the second year of my graduation and I had borrowed the book from a friend, Siddhartha.

I still have this long cherished dream of owning all the seven parts someday.

More on the 'Childhood by Chenab' later.

WHY YOU SHOULD BE LOVING THE MESS??

Philips Idawu, England
"Sorry people but I have children to think about. My safety is more important than a medal"
Dani Samuels, Australia
"At the end of the day, this is sport. It is not worth risking your life"
Her Coach
"I'm sure that there wouldn't be a single parent of an athlete in Australia that is not concerned about their son or daughter going to these games"

THE INCIDENT THAT WAS

The commonwealth games 2010 for which we are the oganizers, has earned enough wrath from almost all quarters and from everybody who knows about the CWG.
Frantic work is underway in Delhi to get the games village ready and restore the damage it has done to the pride and confidence of being an Indian.
What the country wants the hundreds of civil servants and the officials placed by direct intervention fron the highest offices is exactly this. Restoring the pride and confidence of being Indian.
Because this is no hidden fact that most Indians are in love with their country.
We are proud of it, right?

I am quite confident that the games will go from one hurdle to another and stumble to the finishing line and end up with enough applause and praise.
But there is something worth noting here.
On the surface it seems that the events have followed much the same order as every scam or scandal follows in the country. It started off with a 'LEAK' followed by the media sensationally reporting every minor and major glitch, there was wide coverage of the unspeakable irregularities in accounts and costing(What I prefer to call 'Their corruption').
Then were the usual denials and ridiculous statements that seem to be blurted out under pressure and in a hurry and the statesman realizing his mistake after being scathed upon in almost all public circles. Case in point Mr. Jaipal Reddy and CWG OC General Secretary Lalit Bahnot.
Then came the chance of 'THE PUBLIC'. With war cries for justice and loud demands for rounding up of those responsible for swindling the public money, refered to as 'MY MONEY' by many.
The amusing and the annoying round of satiric self mockery we Indians love to inflict upon ourselves (Hum toh aise hi hain).
Everything has happened and the games will happen too.

THE REAL OPINIONS

But there's one thing very different this time.
This is the first time we all stand exposed as a country in all our naked glory  in front of the world. We have these definite 'eccentricities' and 'diferences' that we rave about and in which the world gladly follows suit in easier times.
But this is one time when that filthy street, that clogged basin, that unflushed lavatory and that stray dog isn't going to pass as a small under note in a foreign tourist's travelogue which is otherwise filled with the usual stories of being bamboozled by the country's uniquenes.
Doesn't the talk of Mind boggling diversity, the mad rush and colors of daily life, the struggle of human life in its most glorious and bizarre forms...all of this...doesn't it sound cliched to you in the light of these new shots of criticism when the world is actually telling you that "how they feel about you?"
We have been too smug and happy about how we are labelled by the developed nations to really care about what we have really become.
The way most of us have it in our minds is this..
If they find us good enough to visit so much and write books upon then there must be something in us right..Now we can't say exactly what that is but it must be something about the old mysticism, our mythology, our vedanta, our ancient roots of knowledge and virtue, our sadhus, our colorful dresses, our villages and all that usual crap.

But this smugness has been hurt this time and well hurt.
This is the number one reason that I'm loving this mess.
"India shouldn't have been awarded the CWG, it was a mistake in the first place"
"I think the indians have learnt a lesson, and we have too"
"The risk of hygiene and falling ill is way too great. i'd prefer to stay back"

How does it feel to listen to these statements.
Yes, we really are that bad. This is what they actually think of us.
Because when you are the small developing underdog nation with a billion plus population and they find you entertaining, they are all praises.
But when you try to raise your heads up and try to show them you TOO can do it. Its time to put you back in your place. You are being judged now, as equally and harshly as they'd judge a competitor. And if you fall short, then you'll be reminded your place.
When the peasant starts sending his son to the school and talks about his son studying as well as the zamindar's son, you know that we have a problem at hand.
The world loves this faltering, suffering and somehow running country of ours.
But we were staging this time. On a scale as grand as theirs. And there was no room for compalcency in that.

WORLD CLASS...CHALTA HAI KYA?

This is the lesson we ought to learn from this. The lesson is not for the corrupot official who okayed a 600 rupees per day chair or a 1500 rupees per day xerox machine. But for us, for everybody who cares.
It is time to buckle up yourself and work towards those standards that are considered world-class.
World-class is one word we use in a really fickle manner.
Now is the time to realize what it means and work for it.
We always carry on with our "chalta hai" attitude AND take pride in it. But ask yourself..Reaaly...Chalta hai kya??
Jab sikka duniya ke saamne rakkha ho mere dost, toh NAHI chalta hai..!!
When you stumble thorugh those college courses without ever knowing the love for the subject, ask yourself Chalta hai kya?
When you talk like don't care how that college fest turns out to be in the end, Ask yourself Chalta hai kya??
When you talk in disparaging tones about that Prof. who probably worked his whole life teaching dumb heads like us..ask yourself "Chalta hai kya?"
When you get through that Project and the Project report without ever breaking a sweat over it and ever doing a bit of honest work in it...Ask yourself Chalta hai kya??

There are numerous other such conditions when you can ask yourself this question at a personal level. I have no intentions of askking this to myself when i see a blatant corrupt act in front of me that i can do nothing about, but yes, i'll ask it when i know that its in my control.
Every single time you realize the answer that "Nahi chalta hai" and work to do things the best way you can. you'll bring this country closer to a time when the world won't raise fingers on that filthy nakedness because ther won't be any of it.

WE ARE THE WORLD, WE ARE THE CHILDREN

I believe that we are what makes this nation. You, Me and the hundreds of other engineers, students, teenagers who may not all end up being an IIT'ian but WILL have a role in running this country.
Well the IIT'ians will as usual be busy with their accounts and banks but I don't give a damn for them.
I am working in a PSE and have met people from many other government organizations. These are the people who have done good work for years at their individual level even when surrounded by compalcence and non-working peers.They are the handfuls who have made technology and resources available to their country when they were needed.
There achievenebts may not be sung over like an IITian rubbing his ass on a polished silicon valley floor or on the 113th floor of a Bank headquarter, but the work they have done holds its own importance in mine and your life.
And no, they were not the best by some stamp on their certificate. But by the one pursuit that sets them apart. The pursuit of excellence.

Let nobody raise a finger on the way you finish your small college project and a time will come when our mega construction projects wouldn't be questioned.
Lets stop treating roads as dustbins and spittons and we may well QUALIFY for their 'Standards of Hygiene'.
(And yes, I agree with Lalit Bahnot when he says that Westerners have a different standard of hygiene.)
Lets start caring about and trying to make every small initiative and event around us a success and the world will leave behind its skepticism when it comes to organising mega events in India.


I don't know why I sound more and more like its a 'CALL TO ARMS' but the way I feel about it, I think that figuratively, I am ready for the battles..:)
And no, I am not chauvinistic. This is my country and this is my WORLD, we are all in this together (this second part is cliched but fitting..:).
Don't call it Chauvinism..

RUMBLE TIME

The activities for synchronization of Unit 2 of Dariba Smelter Complex are just reaching a peak. The site is bustling up to its usual rush as it always happens before this important milestone.

During the day everywhere you go in the Power plant, you can see welders busy intently upon some big steam lines perched atop them with a safety belt. Grinders and fitters with their strange merchandise trying to give the final touches to recent mechanical joints. The insulation guys wearing there masks and spraying or wrapping the corrosive glass wool and asbestos around the equipments for saving the heat.

It always reminds me of those hollywood scenes of factories with dim yellow lights, people wearing helmets and face masks, sparks flying off everywhere with gas cutting or welding and the constant sound of metal on metal.
The sounds are a mixture of sonorous "tang tang" of metal striking metal, the critter and buzz of grinders and the intermittent shouting with most of the communication being done with hand gestures or lip reading.

There is plan to run the Condensate Extraction Pumps(CEP) and the Turbine Bypass valves. So we will be quite busy ensuring the needed protections and monitoring systems for them.
Maybe we'll be staying late at night.
There is plan for synchronization before the 30th of this month because the client is going to save a lot of tax money by declaring this project milestone in the current financial quarter.
Whatever the reason be, its always us who get caught in between these deadlines. Luckily, this time we have sufficient staff and manpower so things will go smoothly without any delays. But there are unforesenn things, You never know when a small cog in the wheel decides to go its own way and the whole bandwagon comes to a standstill. Hope nothing of this sort happens.

I am afraid this post won't make much sense but I just want you to feel this situation I am in. The machinery at work and all the human effort going into it at different levels is a quite fascinating process. Everybody keeps asking questions.
The welders, fitters and other workers are generally from distant places and have no idea about the power plant but they know that something big is round the corner and that they may well get a break when its over.
"Sir kab tak ho jayega sincrozation?"(When will the synchronization get over?)
"Sir bijli paida kab karne lagega plant?"(When will the plant start producing electricity?)
"woh line humne jod diya hai, nahi fatega aap chinta mat kariye?"(That weld is complete, don't worry, it won't leak?)

These are not nice places to be at. Accidents happen, Machines fail, People die but the work doesn't stop.
The last site I was at was near Jhansi. The work there got delayed after our control room caught fire and then the Chimney being built by NBCC(National Building Construction Corporation) collapsed.
Thats the reason I am here now.. :o
Thats a funny story too. Later..:)