On renting a costume…….

     (middle, The Tribune)


By Dr Anjali Mehta


As all parents who have small children would know, one important address is the local costume rental shop. There are not too many such in Delhi hence the one’s present are rather popular and famous. A visit to them for renting a costume can be quite an experience .

One day, a school circular informed me that my daughter had to become “any animal” on the coming Friday.I went to the rental shop mentally thanking the school authorities for the liberal “carte blanche” which made things easier. On entering the big store, I found myself surrounded by rows upon rows of shelves laden with costumes in varying hues and textures. Many were made of some woolly fur.Seeing that it was summer and my daughter would feel incredibly hot in one of these, I decided to choose an animal which had the “thinnest” looking skin around. I settled on a “goat” skin. It was thankfully available in my daughter’s size .I was about to ask for the accompanying face mask when my daughter pointed out that there was a long tail attached to the costume. “Isn’t that nice!” I said rather absently. “Mama!” she said sternly “goats have very short tails!” I complemented her on her accuracy and asked for a more “authentic” goats costume. I was told they all had long tails - it came from the “back” like that ( it took me a while to comprehend that in his case the “back” referred to the production house/factory and not the animals derriere ). My daughter seemed to have a preference for the cat family so we found a nice leopard costume . The fur was a bit thick, more like a polar bear’s though the colour and spots were right. This time I pointed out this discrepancy to my daughter but she shrugged her shoulders and informed me that this much latitude could be given. I asked for the face (mask). When it came, I told the salesman that he had wrongly got a tiger’s face. He said “madam only this face comes from the back”. “Do you mean to tell me this “universal” tigers face is used with all the cat family costumes ?” I asked. He nodded assent. I was incredulous. I asked him if he did not think it was odd to pair off mismatched faces and bodies. He merely shrugged, not wanting to take any responsibility for the limited versatility of the “back ” . Finally in desperation , I lied. I told him that the child’s teacher was very strict and did not tolerate any deviation from nature kindly (my daughters teacher is actually a very gentle soul). I told him I was petrified of her wrath and could he somehow find a costume that was true to nature and depicted the same animal from face to bottom. This appealed to his instincts (maybe he had a dragon of a teacher) and I could see a determined resolve to “save” me come over his face. Hours (certainly seemed like it !) later, I was able to come home with a bear costume for my daughter. I made up my mind that in case my son had a similar jungle requirement , I would simply send him as “Mowgli” !

On a more recent occasion, I went to a different costume shop. My mother had accompanied me. My naughty little daughter had elected to be the angelic Sita and my son, Hanuman . Accordingly, the shopkeeper produced the dress elements that went into the making of Hanuman. First came the puffed out cheeks (mask) to be worn over the mid face. My mother made the shopkeeper (who looked a little uncomfortable with this request) wear it to demonstrate . Satisfied, she next proceeded to lift the cloth mace and then asked him to do the same. He was not sure where all this was leading, but he obliged. She then triumphantly pointed out that he had also required some effort to lift it! The crux seemed to be that he had unthinkingly given too heavy a mace for her little grandson . A lighter mace was duly found. Next she held the tail behind her back and asked him to do the same. A fearful look crossed his face : he probably had this scary vision that he was going to be asked to now leap about his shop to demonstrate this asset. He got off lucky , she merely pointed out that such a heavy tail may well disturb the equilibrium of her grandson’s walk and cause him to topple in the direction of the tail’s curve. A lighter, less bounteous asset was produced but, alas, it had no hair at the end. The shop tailor was given the task of producing a quick growth from the tail’s end which he did ably with some bits of black cloth. The crown, clothes and belt were also painstakingly selected. The shopkeeper, by now had surprisingly warmed to the whole game and was found extending full support more cheerfully to my mother .When it came to my daughters turn, a simple white sari for Sita, I thought I detected a gleam of slight disappointment in the shopkeepers eyes !


All in all, these little shops are life saving devices. The alternative : sitting up late at night and trying to make chart papers depict fruits /animals et all by using paint and scissors is rather daunting if you are not from the cadre of Gujral, Menon et all.

A rather young theatre audience……

     (middle, The Tribune)





In the interest of furthering my daughter’s education, I take her for a play or a performance now and then. In order to make the outing more enjoyable for her, I invite one or two (greater numbers are daunting) of her friends along. I also have a son, whom, I believe, is still a bit young for this. [My impression stems from the few performances I took him to. The most recent was a magic show where he totally ignored the stage and its occupants, and would keep running down the aisle and “disappearing”(admittedly keeping the true spirit of the event in mind!) outside the auditorium.I too had to keep following him out: and the mother and son remained involved in their own private appear/reappear act throughout the show. Others later told us it was a splendid performance(the main show)]


The idea of the outing generates considerable excitement in the chidren’s minds. They chatter non-stop on the way to the event and carefully select their seats at the venue (loudly discussing the merits and demerits of each vantage position) . Once comfortable, they send the accompanying adult (me)out to buy them popcorn and drinks. Their excitement cannot be contained when the curtain goes up.The debuting performers are greeted with delighted squeals expressing loud and fervent anticipation. I try to pretend that I am just coincidentally sitting near these kids and am not their direct incharge.

Then the actual performance begins. Sometimes they are riveted (thankfully!) and silent. Most often, loud questions begin to take shape. These are hurriedly tackled in mid sentence by me with the advice to whisper instead. They then (obediently!) clarify the rest of their doubts in loud stage whispers.In my panic to ensure that the volumes remain acceptably low, my answers are delivered quickly and crisply . Unfortunately their satisfaction thresholds are high and short answers generate more questions. Difficult circle of curiosity!

A moot point during the performance is how much time is spent actually watching the show and how much in the bathroom. The moment a scene heads towards a sort of climax, their little bladders start acting up ( side effects of excitement ) and we have to make a trip to the restroom. There we have a full performance and games instead of quick execution of the job. There are playful attempts to peep at one another from under the cut off door, comments on shoes, legs, the desire to see how the soap flows out of the tap on pumping etc.[ I remember a kindly old lady who was watching the antics of the kids with a bemused expression. A little while later, on her second trip to the restroom, she encountered us again. Oh you all are still here ? she asked sweetly. No madam , this is my fifth trip here with them I answered wearily.She seemed a little nonplussed].


I once advised these little mites that their repeated trips through the rows disturb others and so they must walk fast when walking through the rows and preferably, bend down . My daughter took this literally and imagine my consternation when she went down on all fours and started crawling among the rows.Her friends quickly followed suit and it was a rather embarrassing few minutes when I had to also go down on all fours(to draw less attention to myself) and persuade them to stand up! They told me they were trying to be ultra-considerate !


The hours fly by and the time of the performance draws to a close. By this time the children begin getting a bit restless (even in a lovely show they have enjoyed) and the fidgeting starts. There is near continuous movement on my lap and I have to keep tilting my head a little this way and that to see better. Without turning back, in my mind , I can visualize the domino effect and tilting of heads (accompanied by curses?) down the entire row behind me.


Finally the (sigh of relief for me) show is over ! The performers come to take a bow . The kids love clapping and put their vigorous energies into it. It encourages the artistes and makes up for the little distractions in between ! The kids are only too willing to exchange their cramped up position for a standing one and so a standing ovation from them follows. ( I like to think it makes up for everything)

Though some of these experiences can be harrowing for me, I like to remain optimistic.With the passing months, the children get older, wiser, more appreciative of performances and seem to have better control of their bladders !

Travails of driving on Delhi roads….

It is a matter of significant concern that we as people seem to be losing our equanimity on the Delhi roads. One keeps reading horror stories in the newspapers, of people pulling out their guns to settle big and small provocations on the road. Our citizens occasionally pay with their lives for trifling driving errors. Even gentle, sweet old ladies recount tales of frustration when on the road .They say they feel really angry and stressed in many situations, for example, when some vehicle cuts across in front of them without warning or drivers simply ignore traffic lights. They feel certain that had they been men, they would have also been tempted to deliver a solid walloping to the driver in question. Our roads, on which we spend so much time seem conducive to developing the aggressive sides of our personalities and bringing out Changez Khan like warrior instincts in otherwise harmless souls. Since we need to use the road to get from any point to another, we can well imagine what frame of mind it puts us in to conduct our daily activities and probably gives a subtly negative balance to our feelings.

People thought about reversing this trend. Sometime ago, the Delhi police carried out an interesting campaign. They printed the word “relax” across the red light in traffic signals. They campaigned to the public that instead of viewing the wait at the red light as a stress factor causing delays, it could actually be a time to recoup and recharge one’s energy. The idea was rather delightful and a much needed one. But the ground reality is, the traffic light is actually one of the most stressful areas on the road. Relaxing is just about the last thing possible. If perchance, your car windows are up and you are peacefully waiting for the light to change, a persistent tapping will start on the window – someone begging or wanting to sell their wares. It will not go away with time, shaking of your head (indicating a “no”) or any other means, till your nerves are completely frazzled. If, on the contrary, the windows are left open, things are thrust through for you to buy, and you are also in the vulnerable position of having your belongings being stolen from the adjacent seat. Also,there is the dilemma of whether to indulge the child beggar at your window. If you share a fruit with one child, several children miraculously appear, making you feel like the pied piper of Hamlin and far outstripping your fruits supply. If you don’t part with anything, the small face keeps looking at you beseechingly till even the most hardened of us melt. Thus at the red light, with multiple dilemmas crowding your mind - what position should your car window be at, to give or not to give, will you accidentally drive over a small child when the light signal changes, where is the scope to relax ??

On a typical day on the roads, the drive to one’s office can be quite challenging. Apart from discourteous or suicidal drivers, and the traffic light problems discussed above, there can be various combinations of bad luck. The worst case scenario: the traffic lights at a particular crossing may not be working ! Most of us regrettably are at our worst in this situation. Every person pushes their car thoughtlessly into any space that opens up (in any direction). The web of complexity of cars is to a degree that would rival the Chakravyuh in the Mahabharat. And sadly, there are no Abhimanyus to sort out this one ! Precious minutes are lost, appointments go awry, and all have just about given up hope of any productive time left at the office when the cops finally surface and (slowly, painfully and with several dented bumpers) unravel the jam.

In case you are wilting under the summer heat and saying prayers…beware lest your prayers be answered ! If perchance it rains, some streets of Delhi (which have an exceptionally poor drainage system - and several areas would fit this bill ) get transformed into Venice. Except that our regular motor cars do not make very good Gondolas and typically the engines cough, splutter and slow down on the waterlogged road before falling omiously silent.

Even while on a long, lightless stretch one is not at peace.You are jolted from the newspaper article you are enjoying because suddenly, the driver has applied brakes sharply. The situation seems to be that the auto/car in front turned/changed lanes suddenly without any indicator. Intentions are never declared on the roads. Driving is just like a teenagers romance…always keep the other person guessing. If one decides to buck the prevailing trend and actually gives the indicator, this could prove to be highly risky as the cars/scooters behind take this as a cue to seize the opportunity to quickly dash past before one can even make the turn- rather than slowing down !Of course many have done away with the concept of indicators completely and believe in sticking out their arms/hands (brave souls !) at the last minute when contemplating a turn. They thus put the onus of anticipating a turn completely on the driver of the car behind who has to watch the outline of the vehicle in front very carefully at every potential juncture to see if any digit/ limb comes flying out of the side !

The MCD likes you to have a feel of familiarity about the daily path traversed by you. Dead carcasses and storm-felled trees are left for as long as they possibly can so that motorists can have many of these natural landmarks to guide them to their destination. It provides an outstanding opportunity for biology students to study processes of decomposition of dead bodies over time.If only, many precious hours were not wasted due to ensuing road blocks and our nostrils were not assailed to the point of being unable to distinguish odours!

If we add to these factors, the endless construction which is happening – metro, flyovers et al and the ensuant delays, we find it nothing short of a miracle to be actually able to reach our destination in a somewhat reasonable time frame, day after day.

In short, there is absolutely no point, time or place on the road where one can actually relax.

At the end of this long and tiring drive you arrive at your office ready to face the day and its challenges. Some of us will have already exhausted our patience and energy reserves by this time. The more optimistic would say that this experience would have sharpened their skills for facing the rest of the day ! You choose…..