BRAToSPHERE

Author: Bharat Jhurani

  • Marriage rights in India

    Marriage is quite a funny thing in India. Once a guy hits the age of 23, everyone and his cousin start showing potential suitors to the guy’s parents. This ordeal begins at 21 itself for the girl!

    Someone who has ever had a faint acquaintance with your parents, and his neighbor, would just be interested in one single thing – getting you married. They all just turn into wonderful marriage counselors, match makers to marriage brokers. Sheetal goes through the same episode in her life. Here is a snippet:

    “You know Aparna? She is three years younger to you, and she is getting married next month”, yells twenty eight year old Sheetal’s mom disturbing the peaceful early morning meditative music in the room. “Well, If Aparna was desperately waiting for her legal age of marriage does not mean am jumping into the wagon with her”, Sheetal murmurs within her mind.

    “Every person has different set of priorities in life”, she wants to tell her mom, when her mom snaps back, “Remember Sunita Aunty? She was referring to a nice Punjabi guy she knows. Her Neighbors cousin’s Son. He is in Canada running his own business”.

    “Yes, Running his own Taxi Service am sure. He is probably a UBER driver”, Sheetal murmurs again without being audible, preferring to be silent and leave for her jog rather than pick up a fight early on in the morning.

    “She has become overweight. No wonder she is not getting married. Hope this regular jog helps her! Wahe guru! “, Sheetal hears her neighboring Sapna Aunty talking to her husband. “I AM FAT??? You are sick!” She again murmurs within her mind, and carries on with her jogging without sharing a look with Sapna Aunty.

    Her parents have always been supportive of her dreams and career aspirations, but now they are failing to withstand this surmounting pressure from all directions. They have a daughter with an age when she should be supposedly married and possibly also have a kid or two! Sheetal wants to make her mark in the corporate world, a place that she has fought so hard for?

    What could Sheetal possibly do?  What could her parents possibly do?

    Sheetal’s eventful day obviously does not end with the morning jog.

    Sheetal waves to Ahuja uncle, who is sipping the morning tea with her Father. “Who visits so early in the morning?”, She says to herself.

    Her Mom is busy making breakfast in the kitchen when Sheetal overhears the living room conversation, “Sheetal is in love with another ‘other caste’ boy. I saw her with someone in the Ambience Starbucks” utters Ahuja Uncle sipping tea. Her father just looks and does not say anything.

    “He is my colleague, and we were there for a client meeting”, Sheetal snaps at her Mom. Her Mom just looks at her with disdain, “Once you get married, people will stop talking like this”, and she continued frying the kachoris.

    “Sheetal, we have an appointment with the ophthalmologist at 11 AM today”, Sheetal’s dad reminded her.

    Sheetal pulled the car out of the garage, and zoomed on to the outer ring road, with her dad seated next to her. “What was Ahuja Uncle saying? That boy is Rahul, my colleague!”, she non-chalantly mentioned to her Dad, without taking her eye off from the road.

    “I know beta. But people would keep talking till you get married”, the car crossed Siri Fort.

    “Why do doctors give appointments if they have to make us all wait here forever?”, Sheetal wondered looking at the clock. Just then the attendant called them in.

    Her dad seated on the stool and reading random English letters, when Dr. Gupta started talking, “You should go for Lasik surgery to get rid of the glasses. you would get married immediately”.

    Sheetal looks at him with disgust, still keeping her smile intact. Thankfully her father intervened “F… Z… B… D… E…” increasing the volume of his voice attracting Dr. Gupta’s attention.

    Sheetal did not utter a word for the remaining time in the clinic. “Is this all people could think of? I have a job, a life, my dreams, my aspirations. Is there nothing else that could be spoken of me?”, Sheetal again wondered.

    The drive back home was silent, till her father dialled a number and started talking on the phone. “Sharmaji! Will the next Sunday be okay for the puja? Okay. Please whatsapp the list of items required.”

    Sheetal looks at her father with a quizzical look, and after a brief uncomfortable silence her father blurts out, “SharmaJi, our family pandit? He was on the call. He had warned me that you suffer from kuja dosha; that’s why you are not married yet. And, if you are not married by June you will never ever get married. This Puja would help ward off the dosh”

    “Really! You believe in all this?”, Sheetal looked at her dad with an aghast look. They reached home at the right time, without having any further discussion on this. Well, more had to come and Sheetal would only know this better. She has been living this life for some time now. It has only worsened as time passed.

    “I don’t want to come to the function. I get bored in such places”, Sheetal tried persuading her Mom, a copy of “Scion of Ikshvaku” still in her hands, folded at the page she was reading.

    “Come on Sheetal, it is your uncle’s 50th wedding anniversary party. And such places are good socializing venues for match making. Who knows you might just meet your Mr. Perfect?”, She chided.

    Sheetal agreed reluctantly, only because it was her favourite Uncle. And also, as she had been wanting to chat up with him about the prospects of an MBA abroad. She instantly put on her best ethnic dress, and pulled out the car from the garage.

    The party was at the Radisson hotel, and the drive through the “trafficked” Mahipalpur completely tired Sheetal. There was silence for most part of the journey. She obviously still could not come to terms with the Puja her father mentioned in the afternoon.

    The ballroom-1 was very elegantly decorated and Sheetal settled herself in a quiet corner with a glass of white sparkling wine. She got chatting with her younger cousin, Praks, enquiring about her college, when Lalita aunty interrupted. “How are you doing Sheetal? And How are you Praks?”, she waved at both of them.

    They got chatting and Praks cleverly excused himself out of the conversation. “You should s check out B Blunt parlour at GK-II market. Their facial actually makes you look fair. Boys like fair girls you know!”, Lalita aunty animatedly told Sheetal.

    Sheetal reluctantly smiled in agreement. “Why does she not leave me alone!”, she hoped.

    Sheetal’s mom walks into the conversation, and all three of them start discussing the dressing sense of another lady at the party.

    Sheetal looks towards the bar counter, trying to emulate Praks in escaping the small get together, when Lalita Aunty interrupts, “Sheetal, you should try the somvar vrata. The girl who stays on the lower floor in our complex did that for 16 weeks, and bham! 17th week she is engaged to a rich guy from Jaipur. She is now happily married, and last I heard she is expecting this December. Less than a year post wedding” and everyone starts giggling, except Sheetal whose anger is as clear as the skies on a bright sunny morning.

    Post a relatively uneventful dinner, Sheetal drives back home at 1 AM, along with her Mom and Dad. She changes, brushes her teeth like regular and snuggles into her blanket. Staring at the wall, she wonders, “Is marriage the only solution to get away from this banter all day?“. Sleeping away to wake up to one more “normal” day in a spinster’s life.

    Such is the irony of Indian life. America has just legalized the right for same sex marriage and here we struggle for the right to marry on our choice.

  • Konjo – Book Review

    Recently while browsing a book store, I stumbled upon this book with a weird name which immediately attracted my attention. The subject seemed interesting and relevant, and I ended up buying the book then and there.

    Konjo, which in Japanese means – “The Fighting Spirit”, is the story of Dentsu’s entry into India and is written by Sandeep Goyal, the person who got Dentsu to India.

    The book is in a chronicle format detailing the author’s life from the point where he quit Zee, to heading and making Dentsu a formidable advertising Agency in the Indian Industry.

    Goyal is not one to forgive, and at no point does he mince words or not mention names. He is brutal and honest in recalling incidents. Like the time where he mentions wanting to slap the CEO of a prominent agency, or accusing an insurance firm of using a tag line created by his agency much after their association was cut. He is honest to the point of embarrassment.

    At the same time, it is not a “unleash my grudge” kind of book, and the author details out the entire ardous journey of him convincing the Japanese of why he is the most suited person to mantle Dentsu in India. The process of setting up a winning team, and the many snippets and anecdotes of various pitches and campaigns during the crazy years in Dentsu makes this book an interesting read.

    it provides a good insight on the ways of working of the Japanese, and the subtle cross cultural differences that need to be kept in mind during interaction with them.

    It also has some hilarious short anecdotes like the one where Sandeep was regarded as a very rich person in Japan Dentsu office as he had served Mangoes to his Japanese guests during Dinner. Or the incident where the entire Dentsu mechanism got into chaos looking for a missing Japanese employee, who was later found to have locked himself up in his room watching TV!

    After selling his partnership back to Dentsu, and making a lot of money in the process, Sandeep is now left with enough free time to pursue his many interests. He is now writing a PhD thesis on “Human Brands”, is involved with a food channel and dabbles in other interesting stuff. After reading the book, I am now curious to read his other book – “The Dum Dum Bullet”. A must for someone curious about the Indian Advertising Industry.

  • The Summers

    Summers have always evoked a special emotion in my mind.

    During my younger days, summers inevitably were associated with one big word – HOLIDAYS! Two long months of holidays when I can do all that I wanted and have no time pressures. No evening homework, no restrictions on play hours. Just pure fun and timepass all day.

    Retrospectively I think it would have done well if I had actually lived a Spartan life and enrolled myself in the multiple holiday coaching classes that kids these days do! Would have been proficient in paying the guitar at least. Anyways, as they say, it is never too late to hum a string!

    But well, I don’t have summer holidays anymore!

    One thing that makes everyone fond of the summers are the Mangoes. The option of “Har Mausam Aam” is good during off season, but in the summers it has to be the real Mango in every variety – Alphonso, Langda, Dussehri,etc any form would do.

    Summers bring in those fond memories of Nani’s house in Rajasthan. The two day long train ride in a sleeper class coach from Vizag to Sujangarh, via Delhi was an event that we had looked forward to, not worrying about the heat. The mangoes at Mama’s shop were an added incentive!

    Coca-Cola. Little did I had of then that one day I would be so strongly associated with this brand. Summers implied that any number of glasses of Coke would be okay. Rasna still brings fond memories of the fights that I used to have my brother on who has he bigger glass.

    Comics. Summer Holidays implied that I can read comics for as much time as I want. As I grew older, comics turned to novels, magazines and the likes. One thing remained common though, Fun reading which replace the normal boring class books for these two months. I still remember the travel memories when I would stare at every wheeler book cart at every railway station longingly wondering why I can just not buy the entire shop. “I would own a book shop when I am older”, I would tell myself and bury my head back in my copy of Tinkle.

    In the present life, summers are like any other months, with a lot of heat added in the weather.

    The Saturday morning football needs to be wrapped up quick to escape the fury of the sun. The weekends are all indoors well within the confines of an air conditioned room reading and sleeping. (Now I know why every magazine comes out with a list of summer reading picks!)

    The very thought of having to step out for normal chores brings in a bout of lethargy.

    In spite of all these inconveniences, summers would always be cherished. And am off to relish myself on a succulent ripe yellow Mango.

  • Everyday is for the Thief – Book Review

    Like many other books, I had first picked up this book at the Airport and was interested. I later got the ebook version of it, and read it on my iPad.

    The author, Teju Cole had returned to New York after a trip to Lagos and decided to record his trip on a blog. The result – a fictionalized mix of memoir and reportage, this book “ Everyday is for the Thief”.

    This book is direct and on the face. It delves in detail about the corruption and the sense of hopelessness that captures the Nigerian society. The book provides some powerful insights into Nigerian beliefs and social practices.

    There are many authentic glimpses of the prevalent bribery and rampant corruption across the city. The book details the situation at the Nigerian Consulate in New York where an additional payment is required for the VISA – an expediting fee that goes straight into the official’s pocket. As soon as your reach Nigeria, a Mufti clad official asks you very blatantly for Christmas gifts in Dollars.

    The simple mentality of “you have become wealthy, we should become wealthy too!” runs through the book.  Teju Cole has a photographer’s eye for detail. From the authors account it feels like the Nigerians have no choice but to leave the country and establish themselves outside before their voices can be heard.

    In many ways, the African society seems to be so much similar to the Indian society. Is this the normal curve that a developing country needs to tread, or is there an actual historical connection that makes us so much similar?

    The book is beautifully written and is compelling and concise. A good quick read for someone interested to know how it is like to live in Lagos.

  • The next Fifty Days

    Fifty more days to write the continuation piece to the previous post. Life sure is running at a breakthrough speed and managing it all, without letting any ball fall has kept me quite busy.

    Today, on a Sunday evening, I feel relatively free. Though, I am having to do this as a trade off with spending time on our own personal café in the green balcony.

    So, what exactly has been happening these days? Well, to start with I have a new role in office, which is in addition to the new role of Husband. The new role and the fact that this is peak summer time translates into long office hours, and busy weekends.

    Business trips to Mangalore, Bangalore and a couple of quick trips to Lucknow filled in my quota of being up in the air. The more I travel, the more I realize that this is one part of the job that I really enjoy. Visiting different places, meeting new people and learning new things is all so much fun. This in spite of the fact that in most official trips I don’t get to visit even a single tourist attraction in the city. The spell of being in a new city, with a different culture and a different way of life in itself gives me the high.

    A quick weekend trip to Sujangarh for a cousin’s wedding kept me off for a couple more days. Peak summer days did not help a bit. Yet, the commitment and readiness of my uncle who works with a fire watch company in Cape Canaveral reminded me of the importance of being prepared for any situation, ensuring safety even amidst the scorching heat – much like the well-equipped personnel at his job who are ready for duty at a moment’s notice. The meeting up with family made every minute of the trip worth it though. After the trip to Maldives, and the three-week long holiday for the wedding, these are the only kind of trips that I would be able to take off for this year.

    Back in Gurgaon, House shifting in early April implied even more busy weekends. House shifting, in spite of it being in the same complex can actually get quite hectic. What with all the boxing, and unboxing, running around for the minor repair and some not-so-minor repairs. Happy to say that it is all over now, and we have settled into the new place.

    This is it for now. Off to my café, to my Passion Fruit iced tea to ward off the heat. Happy Summers!