Indo-US Ties: Perspectives from a Mofussil Town

 (middle, The Statesman)

Dr Anjali Mehta






President Obama’s current visit has sparked off considerable discussions on Indo-US ties. Many years ago, I was stationed at a small Indian town, where I witnessed a small scale attempt by the locals to strengthen Indo-US ties, which inadvertently went awry. The local club members had organized an exchange programme with a sister club in America. The invited delegation consisted of two knowledgeable (and coincidentally, beautiful) lady American psychologists. The locals were enthralled by them and wanted to give them a special send-off at the concluding dinner.





The club members specially procured some bottles of expensive red wine as a treat for their guests. This decision had some path-breaking social implications. Consumption of alcohol by women was socially taboo in this town, so none of the local women drank (if we discount the sorority’s secret imbibing in glasses camouflaged with opaque napkins to disguise contents).





At the farewell dinner, the two ladies arrived, looking glamorous in short dresses. A small group of club members walked up to the Americans, welcomed them, and enquired what beverage they would like to drink. The hosts were dismayed when the foreign guests said ‘water’. They then produced the trump card, announcing with a flourish, that they had very tempting fare which would surely make the ladies reconsider their choice. Their mispronunciation of the wine’s name (‘chateaux’ sounding like ‘chat ox’) took away some of the sheen from the offer. This got restored by the wine’s vintage. To the men’s astonishment, however, this new input did not bring about the desired result.





The hosts, overcome by a compelling sense of duty, used every form of verbal persuasion to prevent the ladies from making what they perceived to be a serious error of judgment. The foreigners, however, stood by their original choice. “Why are our ‘no’s’ not being taken at face value?” they wondered, greatly baffled. “Are we missing something here?”. Their life in America had not equipped them to deal with a situation where even multiple refusals did not have any effect whatsoever.





The two sides having reached an impasse, one of the club members resorted to a bit of emotional blackmail, indelicately hinting to the ladies that that he had gone to great trouble to procure the wine.





In light of this disclosure, one of the foreigners (who was suffering from a runny tummy) felt obliged to explain their refusal more fully. “I have a bad stomach” said she.



“Of course not!” suggested the leader of the delegation with a leery twinkle in his eye, “your stomach is very good and shapely.”





The American gasped in shock; no one had flirted so outrageously with her in a formal setting. She flung an angry stare at him.





With complete disregard for the nuances of the situation, another bold member of the delegation declared firmly, “I am getting the wine for you anyway.”





The now furious psychologist threatened the man “Bring it and I will pour it in your pocket!”



The male delegation had no idea what to make of this statement, though they realized from the tone that things were not looking bright. Some members of the delegation privately compared her to the goddess Kali during a phase of wrath. Some others, who had more common sense and a well honed survival instinct, prevailed upon the others to leave the foreigners alone.





For the rest of the evening, the American ladies kept largely to themselves. The ‘vanquished’ delegation decided to drown their sorrows in fine wine (with soda and ice added for good measure!) and for them the evening passed in a pleasant vintage-wine induced haze.





The lovely foreigners left for their country the next day having tasted Indian hospitality, if not the wine!

An unusual friendship….

  (Middle, The Statesman)

Dr Anjali Mehta




Friendships happen in different ways - a chance meeting with a kind stranger, work colleagues discovering they have even more in common than just their targets or boss, parents whose children attend the same school and so many others….

I reflected on some unusual starts to my friendships :



In our student days, we would sometimes be made to stand in the corridor outside the classroom as a punishment for various little misdeeds . While serving one such sentence, I noticed a skinny, timid looking boy also standing outside another section in the corridor nearby. Feeling rather maternal and wondering how on earth he fell foul of authority, I went across to cheer him up . A half hour later, I was in a mild state of shock - it turned out he was a corridor “regular” and even my mischief paled in comparison to the range, audacity and repertoire of misdeeds recounted by him. Awestruck, I vowed never to judge a book by its cover. Our friendship grew over the next few months as we happened to get punished often together and he became a sort of “naughtiness consultant “ to me in school.



In medical college , we had just begun to form a loose knit study group of girls who used to sit and study together in the hostel balcony at night. To try and enhance our beauty along with our brains, we would apply colorful mud and vegetable face packs. One night, an intruder jumped over the compound wall and we heard his footsteps in the dark below. We all crept to the edge and peeped down. We found ourselves staring into a man’s face. On catching sight of our bizarre facial colouration, his own face drained of all colour …he simply fled in shock (we never saw him again !) The incident led to a lively discussion on topics such as beauty masks, intruders (anything other than medicine) and the ice was beautifully broken amongst us all.



The most unusual for me however, has been a friendship forged from the labour room! Eva (name changed) and I were admitted to the same hospital on the same night for onset of labour pains. Her pains quickened before me and her loud groans attracted the attention of my family members. Feeling fairly underutilized as far as I was concerned, they went to her bed to soothe her . My pains, on the other hand, froze my tongue with shock and no sound emerged. Time passed. Eva continued to cheerfully yell the place down while I remained dazedly silent willing to expend my energy only on bare necessities like breathing. My family was largely focused on comforting Eva, believing her to be in greater pain (though any good medical book and life’s experiences will tell you labour is painful without exception and shouting is an inaccurate barometer, being personality based and not pain based). Meanwhile, her family watched me with increasing awe. They thought I was the epitome of dignified, silent suffering and came over to congratulate my parents on harboring such a seemingly stoic being in the family.

I think in our lucid moments , Eva and I felt cross with each other. I felt she had garnered all the sympathy and she felt I had garnered all the admiration. We delivered within minutes of each other.



Over the next few weeks we met at common vaccination dates. We saw a relatively more glamorous version of each other (a human shape rather than balloon shape) and were exposed to facets of personality other than reaction to pain . It was in these visits that the friendship blossomed….



I have learnt that in any of life’s little twists and turns..there just may be a new friend round the corner…

Early morning dilemma : to swim or to walk ?

By Anjali Mehta




We are fortunate in having a huge, lovely park in our colony and on the days on which I can’t swim in the nearby pool, I walk around there.

I tried to reflect on which of these two activities I enjoyed more….



Swimming, apart from being an excellent all round exercise, also has the great psychological advantage that one is actually lying down (in a manner of speaking) while exercising. Also, minor personal embarrassments, such as a rather ample paunch can be concealed under the water while one goes about the task of getting them into shape!



The vibrant park environment has beautiful surroundings, friendly birds (who occasionally gift droppings from above), small animals, and also a human spectrum spanning all ages. Apart from walking, many older people are still able to contort their aging bodies into impressively difficult postures on the grass – truly a yogic triumph of mind over (resistant) matter! Sometimes I find an older lady dressed in a sari for her morning walk. In the vast sea of casual sportswear, it is quaint and strangely comforting as it somehow projects a seamless continuity between the generations. The tee-shirts of teenagers have funny sayings over the front. Sometimes I am able to just glimpse half a line and have to wait for a couple of rounds to get the full message in surreptitiously gleaned bits (given the poor social graces involved in staring at peoples stomachs). I specially enjoyed “I was an atheist till I realised I was God!”

The laughter therapy group often catches you off-guard making you jump out of your skin by suddenly erupting into loud laughter. It’s delightful to watch the effect of this on little kids nearby – they roll helplessly on the ground in mirth all the while pointing at the laughter group. The group’s objective of spreading happiness is clearly achieved!

Sometimes while walking, you feel many people are craning their necks this way and that to glimpse you better – it feels like a good antidote to your midlife crisis, till, on closer inspection, you realize that neck exercises are being performed.. Occasionally, a group of people walking by tell an interesting story loudly and one just has to resist the temptation to match one’s pace with them just to find out how the story ended !



In contrast, the swimming pool micro cosmos is more homogenous with a Marx-like socialist feel to it, consisting of a large and fairly uniform group of partially submerged bodies in a big water body. Identities also get concomitantly submerged as individual recognition clues like hair, eyes and body shape are obscured with cap, goggles and water..

This is the place to enjoy a spirit of collective belonging with fellow humans much like a school of fish swimming synchronously together. The interaction with nature can be stark – (all of) you and the sky directly above - a powerful experience.





What seems to emerge is choosing between a bracing environment with pleasant diversions vis a vis the enveloping, secure feeling of surrounding cool waters… best to wake up each day and decide what the need of that particular hour is…

Vignettes of fatherhood – as seen through a mother’s eyes

 (middle, The Tribune)




I read an interesting article by a friend on types of fathers. It made me think about fatherhood generally and specifically about us as parents. I remember when we were growing up, the sentence “I will tell your father” held a great significance and threat value – fathers were relatively more shadowy and so quite feared. Now, since fathers are in constant proximity to the children, almost as much as mothers, any mystery element is gone and the kids have them figured out completely. The children are fairly confident that fathers can be wound around their little fingers with perhaps greater ease than even the mother.




My husband finds fatherhood a very enjoyable and positive experience. There are however moments when I have found him feeling severely challenged….

.

He had once gone to a birthday party to pick up the kids who were there with their new nanny. The hostess told him to wait just a little till the khoi bag was over (a bag filled with sweets and small presents is broken at a height and children scramble to pick these). When the sweets were scattered, he found to his dismay that the nanny was also going enthusiastically after the prizes. He realized that being a new girl from the village she did not know that the game was only for the children. Embarrassed, he wanted to somehow tell our nanny to refrain but thought that calling out to her may draw further attention to him (the absolutely last thing he wanted ). So he did the next best thing- retreated as far away as possible so as not to be identified in any way with her or this occurrence. He has never been able to forget the pure horror of the moment when the nanny, spotting him far away, yelled out to him and advanced right up to him, triumphantly holding out her treasure trove of prizes. He wished the ground would open up before him! He has since been very adamant about not going for birthday parties as much as he can possibly help it.



We had taken the kids for a swim and it was time for them to come out of the pool. My son was being particularly recalcitrant about coming out of the water so my husband decided to be a little firm and told him that he had no option but to step out of the pool. His efforts were rewarded by a loud wailing on the part of my son and out of the blue the unfair verdict “you are the worst papa”! Everyone in the pool looked at my husband to see who had earned this title. He became beetroot red …..



We had taken the kids for a Dhrupad (it’s fairly serious, slow, timeless classical music) recital and they were reasonably lukewarm about this style of music. They were both fighting for the chair near me before the show and it was decided that it would be half and half time each. An hour later, my son decided that it was now his turn to sit next to me and asked my daughter to exchange places. She refused. Whereupon his face became set into the expression which comes on just before he is about to begin wailing loudly. I can never forget the look of pure terror on my husband’s face as he urgently took my arm and whispered “I think he’s about to cry!’. He had visions of our son’s loudly familiar wail drowning out the concert completely and thought that they both may well make it to the next day newspapers entertainment section, for the wrong reasons. I somehow managed to save the situation. Kapil never recovered fully - he is always very uneasy when taking the kids anywhere though they sit very nicely through most performances now and keeps searching the children’s faces for status checks during the programme.



My husband has reached the universal conclusion “there is never a dull moment….

Transcript of conversations with the police after the robbery at the clinic last year.

Dr Anjali Mehta






The police officer, Mr RS, who has courteously come to the clinic himself, is invited to sit in my (AM) chamber. The landlord’s son (LS) is also present.



Mr RS : So tell me madam, how can I help you ?



AM : Well you’ve been assigned to investigate this case I hear. If you could get us the formal FIR registered which you assured these people you would once I returned… and generally solve this case, and help recover the stuff/ catch the culprits etc.



RS : Why do you want an FIR registered ? Its just a piece of paper. Whats more important is the case. What exactly would you like me to do about the case ?



AM : (feeling he should be the one outlining what he wants to do but ready to offer ideas anyway) : For starters, why don’t you question the neighbours ? There was a big break in, a part of the wall was torn down, heavy objects were removed…. surely someone must have heard some noise ?



RS : Madam, there is not much point in questioning neighbours. They can be very rude to the police. Last time we questioned the neighbours of a gentleman who had been robbed, the neighbours were very uncooperative and asked us whether they were his security guards or what ? Why should they keep tabs on the going ons and coming ons at his house? What is the point madam of getting mixed up with someones neighbours ? !



AM: Surely you can be firm and ask them to respect the uniform and answer your questions properly ?



RS :Nobody listens nowadays, all act rude.



AM; but you should not let rudeness deter you from your duty. I also pray that I run into polite people everyday but one always gets a mixed bag ! How are you going to get information if you don’t ask ?



Anyway, I have a list of suspects. I think we need to question the people who came to install the air conditioner at the back as they were privy to the layout.



RS : Okay madam, you ring them and summon them here, Ill talk to them in front of you.



AM : Mr RS, I don’t think the clinic is an appropriate place to question suspects.. suggest you call them to the police station at your leisure or question them on their own premises !



LS : Mr RS, surely you don’t want the lady doctor to be mixed up with your questioning ? She is right. You cant suddenly call people to a clinic to question them !



AM : (trying a new tack) I believe the finger-print squad which came here the first day lifted a print or two… why don’t you compare them with your criminal records.. might help ?



RS; Ha ! You are talking about criminals commiting crimes…. madam.. are you aware of the profile of people commiting crimes nowadays ? (Long story sbout a national level player commiting a crime etc). Its ordinary folk who are indulging in crimes nowadays….where and who do we look for ?



AM : But the average person does not have the guts to break walls, or the tools and sophistication to cut grills and unhinge locked doors… Surely it smacks of experience in this field…..but anyhow….if you feel its futile, don’t compare the prints is all I can say !



RS : I didn’t say that….



AM ( not clear what he meant so changes topic) : Another suggestion I can make is that I will give you the manufacturing numbers of the computer, AC etc and you could float it in the gray market. If anyone sells the stuff locally, there is a chance the shopkeeper may alert you and they may be caught…



RS: Fair enough madam… why don’t you provide me with the addresses,and phone numbers of the shops in this area that deal in second hand goods and I will circulate these to them.



LS (incredulous): do you seriously expect madam here to know that ? And isn’t it your job to have an inkling of this stuff ? Why on earth should madam be doing your homework for you ?



AM : Mr RS, it seems my suggestions are not helpful to you. Forget about them. Tell me, when there is a robbery, what is the standard protocol you follow ? Just apply that.



RS: (total silence)



AM: Tell me, what is the normal procedure ?



RS : (total silence)



AM : RS ji, say something…



RS : Well madam, solving any crime is pretty futile for the police. (He launches into stories about how the police supposedly solved some cases but were accused of incompetence , how things backfire, poor police, dogs life etc . AM keeps listening and offers him some water, tea thinking all the while that it is becoming rather like a counselling session with AM as therapist and RS crying on her shoulder.



He also tries to suggest that robberies happen all the time.. he cant see what the fuss is about in the first place… )





AM : (weary, 45 mts later). I heard all you said for the past hour and a half. I appreciate your concerns. Don’t solve the crime. I don’t want anything back if it’s such an effort. Just send someone to my clinic a couple of times in uniform so that people notice police are around . So that it acts as a deterrent. People should not get the feeling that robbing is easy and one can just help oneself to another’s stuff with impunity.Yes, robberies happen often. But, one can regulate who goes in and out of one’s home (friends/relatives etc). However, how can one regulate who enters a clinic and with what secret intent ? A doctor cannot refuse to entertain someone’s medical issues because they look sinister or something. All are welcome equally. It’s a public place so doctor’s are always vulnerable… Its your duty to at least patrol the place once in a while….



RS: Madam the beat is large.. have you kept a security guard ?



LS: Nobody in this entire area has one..so we felt it was unnecessary and would draw attention instead…



RS : Well if you haven’t even kept a guard then what security measures have you taken ?



LS : There are walls, grills etc. Surely heavy iron grills are deemed deterrents….



RS : If there’s no guard, its quite obvious why you were robbed !



LS ( Not clear if this meant that people who don’t have guards deserve to be robbed ) but…but…



AM : (feeling a bit cross). Mr RS, we have talked at length for over an hour. I have a concern. I have not heard a single statement from your side reassuring me that you intend to help me in any way. Is that to be my take home message from this conversation ? Show some concern for what has happened….



RS : Madam , I will help you.



AM: (Not convinced ). Ok, lets see how the case progresses… When should I touch base with you next ?



RS : Anytime madam….







The next few weeks were fairly harrowing with several strange conversations (documented elsewhere) with various police officers. They played loads of ping pong with us and it took us close to 4 weeks ( with help from journalists and RWAs) to just get the FIR registered. People said they must have wanted a bribe. I reasoned that if the thieves took money and also the police then what was the difference between them ? I did not have the inclination or means to fund two sets of heists !



We bought new stuff to replace the old . The AC people thought I was strange because I absolutely refused to allow them to put the compressor outside. They went on and on reasoning about the hot air then finally agreed to put it in the washing room after the staff whispered in their ear that I had been recently robbed so was in a vulnerable frame of mind. They then did their job quietly and would come and throw kind glances in my direction!



The only security we have currently is getting items insured . We are also looking for a security guard. The people who’ve offered their services thus far are feeble looking and we feel concerned for their safety.The search is on..The neighbours feel an armed guard is better but one feels worried about trigger happy folk…



The neighbours are talking about a suspicious character they saw around but who will question/apprehend this person ? Anyway life goes on…..

Does the early bird really catch the worm ?

   (middle, Tribune)


We have been hearing since childhood about the early bird catching the worm. It conjures up images of gaining a great deal of advantage by entering a situation early, having a pick of things.

Recently, I reflected on the times I had been the early bird..

Early one morning, I was the first customer buying medicines and I was in a bit of a hurry as my sick son was waiting in the car. After trying to expedite the process by actively scanning the medicine shelves to help the shop assistants find the requisite syrups, we soon came to the stage of payment. There an unexpected delay occurred. As I was the first customer, the cashier was apparently not ready. Totally ignoring my proffered hand holding the money, he first bent and touched the account ledgers with his forehead. He then systematically kissed the cash till and some other books and papers nearby and then said a prayer. I was half fascinated and half impatient and was wondering how many more things this courtesy would be extended to. I started musing about those who kiss objects - winners like Federer, Martina et al certainly kissed their trophies – and wondered whether this man too was a champ among chemists. I also thought of my OPD and surgical instruments and how (in comparison) they were a neglected lot, never having had the benefit of my lips planted upon them…I kept musing (and he kept kissing).. Suddenly, I was startled out of my reverie by the rupee notes being pulled from my hand. I was glad to be able to finally pay and leave. I realized that though I did not get a discount or other tangible early bird benefits I was privy to an interesting opening ceremony.

I thought about other times I had been early..

The one time I had dragged myself terribly early to a medical conference and been a lucky recipient of an “early bird prize’. Though I had a shiny new suitcase to accessorize my travels, I remember sleeping through most of the later part of the conference. Clearly, my aging body had not fully been able to tackle the challenge of jumping out of bed so much earlier than normal.

Or the time when being a stickler for being on time at airports we arrived so early (at my insistence) that even the check-in counters were not open. I can’t either define or forget the strange look that my husband (who had tumbled out of bed at 4 am) kept giving me in a sustained fashion till the counters finally opened. At least the early (lady) bird got some pure undivided attention from the better half even though she was not keen to interpret the accompanying sentiment!

Or the times when one has actually gone to a Delhi reception at the exact time specified only to find that one is earlier than the host/hostess and are mistaken for the bride’s (underdressed) parents (no guest could possibly be that early !). At such times one can give useful tips on the final touches to the décor as the event managers have only you for an opinion ! Or you reach a dinner on time, patting yourself on your back for your punctuality only to find your dinner host opening the front doorbell with his tie yet untied around his neck . At that time you are not able to fathom whether he is cross at being caught in a half dressed fashion or delighted at seeing his first party guest…

I decided eventually that all that the early bird picks up are some intangible lessons and it should not really hope for any tangible worms!

The princess and the burden

(Sunday supplement, The Statesman)

Women in Marriage and Society





As a young captain in the army, my duties included attending to officers, other ranks, and their families in the MI (Medical Inspection) room. Several of my patients got to know me rather well and opened up to me.Sunita, a newly-wed, lively, warm young Bengali lady talked a lot to me and referred to me as elder sister. One of my saddest moments was when I carried Sunita’s burnt body in my arms in a helicopter to a big hospital in a nearby town. She did not survive.

An official probe revealed foul play on the part of her in-laws. The husband, having found out he was sterile, felt she was of no use to him as he could never father any children. He felt she was an economic burden, nothing more. Economic burden remained indelibly etched in my mind. How could anyone so charming and vivacious be perceived as a “burden”? It is with Sunita and the word burden on my mind that I share these thoughts with you.

This article deals with women, both young girls and adults, especially in relation to the institution of marriage.


Childhood…

Think of a little girl born into an affluent and educated family. The chances are that she will be her parent’s “princess”, doted upon and made to feel special. Her parents and older siblings will cater to her every whim.When the little girl attends school, her achievements will be lauded. Over the years, her aptitude will become evident and accordingly she will choose a profession. Since she has had a firm grounding and probably has a lot of confidence, chances are she will do well at her job and be economically independent. The milestones in her life follow a pleasant and predictable pattern and given life’s ups and downs are overall reasonably satisfying.

Now imagine one of her poorer counterparts sitting in a small town far away. One of the commoner epithets she may become familiar with is “burden”. Everything, right from the moment of birth, seems to focus on the all important word “marriage”. Parents feel less happy to get a little daughter as they think she will be a problem to look after, her marriage will entail much expenditure and ultimately she will go away and become part of another family.


Even we in our role as doctors sometimes find that a girl patient’s parents preface the medical history with “after all she belongs to the tribe of women” or “you know if this is not cured/removed she may face a problem with finding a suitor”. Sometimes some parents may not want to ‘invest” much time or effort in a daughter’s development as they feel the daughter will belong to someone else’s family in the long run whereas the son will, in all probability, stay with them all their lives. Occasionally, a young girl may overhear a careless remark from relative expressing fears that this or that imperfection may mar her chances of securing a good husband. The worry about the future may even be to the extent to cast a shadow of gloom every time the future is contemplated.


Can such an obsessive pessimism be healthy? Imagine the sort of lack of confidence such an environment would foster on an impressionable little girl. Only a few would be able to escape the inevitable low self-esteem that would rear its unwelcome head. The girl’s only fault is that she was born in a less well-educated and poor family .If, instead, the emphasis could be placed on securing a bright future in a chosen field and aiming for economic independence, then girls may become more focused and self-assured from the beginning.



Marriage…

The years thus roll by, the stage is set, the girl is grown into a woman; and its time to get married.

The “princess” may fall in love or her parents may exactingly look for an appropriate suitor and expect him to look after their daughter well. She may be lucky to get a family that dotes on her or she well may suffer a culture shock. In any case her expectations will be high from her husband as she is used to a lot of attention. Oftentimes, as she hails from a more affluent background, her husband would be able to afford an independent house and adequate staff.

If she is used to a large family, the loneliness of a nuclear situation may get to her and she may want that the partner gives her total attention after the office hours to “make up” for her being alone. If there are the pressures of a joint family, she is likely to have a good line of communication open to her parents. They will also have total involvement in her affairs and try to participate to their utmost in ensuring her well being. They will give her the support to take life head on and in her stride.

As for the “burden”: expectations on all sides sometimes become very high regarding “marriage”. The girl’s parents have some expectations as they have invested such a lot, sometimes overmuch, in it even to the point of getting into debt. The woman has been hearing about this term all her life so realizes its importance. Also, the inability to secure a good match for any reason tends to make the woman feel less self-confident and reinforces the feeling that she is lacking in some way.

Once a match is found and the ceremonies over, the married life begins. Nobody has really explained to her that it’s not an easy institution. There is not enough formal counselling on marriage. The counselling is mainly informal, in the form of personal opinions and advice from well meaning elders who may or may not have had a very successful marriage themselves.

Marriage is a very vulnerable time for women as this is a period of tremendous changes and adjustments in their lives. Adjustments to a sometimes large and sometimes demanding family, whose members occasionally end up attacking the woman and often do not judge situations impartially. The in-laws often don’t make enough of an effort thinking it is their ‘birthright” that the girl will adjust to them. The husbands fall into two categories;some who understand but cannot speak up against parents because of emotional ties and not wanting to hurt them and others because they just lack the courage or sensitivity. The girl’s parents are sometimes not willing to provide a secure home where their daughter can retreat.

At times, a lot of responsibility is suddenly handed over to the girl almost as if people were just waiting for someone new to walk in, on whom they could shift their tasks. Along with the effort of having to adjust to a new and sometimes unfeeling family and perhaps a pregnancy, it all adds up to an awful lot for any young woman to handle.

The “burden” may find a nice haven or ironically enough may be more accepting of a bad situation as she has been used to not being fully accepted all her life. In case the marriage is not working or there is harassment by the in-laws, the girl sometimes has no one to turn to, not even her parents.

The girl’s parents often don’t accept that something they have been preparing their whole lives for does not seem to be working. Because they have invested so much effort into it there is a tendency to try and salvage something which is clearly not in the best interests of their daughter. The girl is afraid, alone and overwrought with cares.


The way forward….

The “princess” and the “burden’ are not watertight compartments but are used as an illustration to make an important point.

We must all ask ourselves the question how we relate to any girl we are associated with - do we make her feel like a princess or a burden? And it is in no way a measure of who she is as a person but rather a measure of how gracious, civilized and correct we are as a society. Our wholehearted efforts must go towards ensuring that a girl feels loved, confident and secure. Marriage and all that is related to it is important, no doubt, but it should really not be seen as the be-all and end-all of a woman’s existence.

Since much of the concern over what sex one’s offspring is, ultimately stems from the marriage factor, is it not prudent to have some education/counselling around this ? There is no formal training about some of the aspects that married life may entail despite its universality. There is just a lot of informal advice given by parents, friends and well-wishers.


The people who can play a tremendous role in shaping a girl’s existence are her parents. They should be the first ones to instill a sense of confidence so that the girl can take on any situation with courage and equanimity. They should see that she is financially independent and provide a strong support system in times of trouble. No one should shy away from this responsibility and blame the girl or society in general. The parents should not feel that after a girl’s marriage their responsibility towards her or the ties between them are in any way diminished. Instead as both age and a greater understanding and experience develops of life in general, their relationship should only get stronger with each passing year.

Much less importance should be given to the institution of marriage at a young age. Any references to it should be withheld till the age of 16-18 years and more emphasis placed on getting educated and well-trained for a career and self-reliance. Thereafter, there should be counselling on marriage, clearly enunciating the inherent problems and responsibilities. Social studies in school curricula should include topics like nuclear families, joint families and the inherent strengths and problems of these. Men should be sensitized to the issue and asked to place themselves in the girl’s shoes. They should be made to realize how difficult it would be for many of them to function if they had to live permanently in the girl’s household. Colleges should employ counsellors who give advice on marital issues and not just careers. The legal aspects of marriage and their rights must also be made more widely available as information to women.

To conclude, we must ask ourselves whether we are a nation of exemplary citizens where each of us parents has the courage and sensitivity to make our own little daughter feel like a princess and protect her with all our might. Or are we a nation of criminals where we just shrug off another murder and say ‘the girl was merely a burden?”

The Inauguration

    (middle, The Tribune)


Dr Anjali Mehta


A new piece of equipment had been bought at the charitable hospital I work with. It had to be “inaugurated”. Unlike other instruments which had been bought and used without much fuss or preamble (and discovered accidentally by the intended users - typically a doctor would say.. “hey the table looks cluttered today!” and someone would point out -“that’s because these new lenses are lying on it” ) this was different. Here, a fuss had to be made.This was because a well known public figure had funded the purchase and his generosity had to be highlighted. It would have been most unbecoming of the management to slip the generous envelope into their pocket followed by silence. It would have served to ensure that this was the only cheque of its kind !

One of the senior board members, a no-nonsense Gandhian type, correctly pointed out that work must go on as usual on this, the inauguration day. I was asked to commence work in the OT (operation theatre) straightaway , and I was happy to oblige. The “original”chief guest being busy, had sent a family member to do he honours (much like arranged marriages in older times…show one sisters face and send another for the ceremony…)

The site chosen for the inauguration was ( for some inexplicable reason) the block room just outside the main operation theatre. This is where anaesthetic injections are given prior to surgery. We reasoned that since the equipment was an operating one the management may have wanted it to be near its natural habitat (even before its actual use). The theatre itself could not have been chosen for sterility reasons.

The chief guest had arrived and the entourage was going around the hospital. It was suggested that I start giving the anaesthetic injections in the block room. I surveyed how the staff was going around putting flowers and garlands near the machine. I reckoned that were the chief guest to come into the room just then and I were seen lurking in the background with hypodermic needles instead of flowers, there was a fair chance that the security guards might arrest me. I refused, deciding to give the blocks inside the theatre instead.

Accordingly, I changed into OT gear but soon encountered a problem. They had taken the old phacoemulsification machines’ stand to place the “to be inaugurated” machine on so we had no stand on which to place our old machine and start the surgeries. I suggested to sister that we shift the machine with its decorations ( ribbon et al ) onto a more dispensable table. Easy enough; the machine was not very heavy. The only problem was that if the chief guest entered the room right when we had lifted the machine off its original table, it could prove awkward. The stand had a green table cloth and flowers upon it (upon which sat the gleaming new machine), the other table was bare. So we could be in an odd situation where the decorations were on the stand and the machine on the other bare table (if we did not have sufficient time to deck up the other table).The worst case scenario was if the machine was in sister’s and my arms and we had one bare table and one decorated stand on either side of us. I decided that were we indeed caught in the act, we would nonchalantly pretend that it was meant to be that way…they could just cut the ribbon while sister and me were holding the machine. The only drawback being that this large scissor would be precariously close to the fingers of my left and her right hand which were in front near the bow of the ribbon. I quickly summarized for sister the story about the legendary William Tell of Switzerland and how his son stood with the apple on his head while he fired the arrow. I inspired her to prove that we had the kid’s bravery hiding in our hearts and this was the time to exhibit it. She felt stirred enough by the story to agree.

As things transpired, the chief (replacement) guest took her time and we were able to place the decorated tablecloth on the new table and the machine on it without being interrupted.

We then briskly got down to work. From the OT we were able to broadly follow the proceedings… loud clapping meant the ribbon was cut, rhythmic chanting meant some form of prayer and so on .. so the day proceeded with this harmonious side by side inauguration and surgery.. and thus our new equipment came into being.