If My Father was a Politician...

If my father was a politician...

 

Ah! What bright days it could be. Wow! It would be an each day in the valley of corruption. The paradise lay in some green shades of corruption. Before independence our country was at the mercy of British, its rulers and then post independence it's been at the mercy of the rulers, the politicians. However, yes we must agree (and we have agreed to that), after independence a lot has been done for the progress of the country. 

 

We have made progress in several areas be it science and technology, economic field, power generation, atomic energy, political field, but there is one thing that has not been sorted or rather we can say it has made too much progress and that is CORRUPTION!

 

If my papa was a Politician I would legalise CORRUPTION!

 

Corruption is a part of everything from the high level to the low level from the government to the pandus (policemen), be it private schools or builders, name it and corruption exists however the levels of it range. We all know corruption exists in every part every corner, in everything that is to do with us, Indian Humans.

 

An interesting point of view it is and it will continue to be till we don’t accept it in our deeds. We use it in our words we follow it in our deeds then why not even, in our words we accept ourselves as corrupt where the problem is? In the present situation where is the problem? Have we ever looked into what are we missing when in our deeds we do it but in our words we don’t accept it, why? Why, taking the stress, why contradicting ourselves?

 

If Papa was a politician I would legalise it. Where you could bribe officially to the concerned person and they could have their rate card of bribing, but it will benefit the government also at large by giving a very small amount like one percent to the government which they can use for education and offer free education which will result in higher literacy rate all across India and not only Kerala. The benefit of some can be gain for many. Why don’t we accept that this is the most apt thing which could have been accepted, why don’t we trade in deeds the corrupt?

 

We are on an age where copying from the west and irrespective of having so many Government document we have AADHAR card the one card then why can’t we encourage ourselves to go a step ahead with making ‘corruption debit cards’ which you can swipe when a pandu has stopped you from breaking a rule and you could swipe it a percent would transfer to the government and the rest to him. It would be just like a stock exchange perfect demand and supply as per the situation. 

 

Your experience is your experience no one can wear it like skin like how you have been carrying it. A state of let-go in to be, in-tune with corruption; with the totality that there is no separation at all between honest and corrupt, there is no question of doing it is being, corrupt. We all waste time in remembering the rules why not just do and easily do without being ashamed. Being available to what it is. Cultivate corruption when will-we start accepting the ‘corruption rate card...’ What better offer this year you’ll get? Just sit down now. Such harmless transformation becomes “the one” that starts the procession.

—
Shwets :)

Tribute to My Mother :)

I am writing a TRIBUTE TO MOM in association with parentous.com

From the beans in a beanbag to beans on toast, from the black and white to the color in a 7 course roast. I dived into a pool of unrequited love, a womb that played my host. She nurtured a little thing into a 27 year old something, today. That is ‘Me’ and ‘She’ is my ‘Mother.’ The one cliché that still holds her sanctity no breed can match up-to. “Maa ke pairon mein jannat.” they say, this is true. The ONE word that is, yet to be defined in one single word - Mother. God plays the jester here in this Real Life Drama called Life. In my case he (God) decided to shower her with obstacles very few living souls can endure. Not a sob story, but matter of fact - at 21, this young budding girl loses her father, her house, people connive, people hate, people condemn, families drift apart.. In that storm of distress and suffocation, I saw this woman, barely gotten her own bearings straight. No idea how she did and continues her duty, standing there in the middle of this bustle. Stretching her arms out to me, knowing full well, she was set to play my mother, my father, and most of all, my best friend for years to come. She bored a beating heart of size and shape of hers; yet not her and yet not, completely different from her.

The journey we were about to set onto. And so we did. There's no science to it. It is as simple as a grain of salt that starts its journey locked inside a sealed Rupee 20 cocooned plastic wrap, and then sprinkled out one fine day into the dreads of real challenges, to deal with taste. I like to think, she embodies one such grain that created me, a taste.. I am her shadow. As I strolled she was there with me across the difficulties of childhood the adolescence of childhood and the confusion of teenage. She set up an example to me to be. In words, the number of words a dictionary developed with the maximum words will fall short to millions of things I saw, I observed to appreciate her. If I fly high and I fly high, sky touching high, on the bed of roses if I hear any music. She is the one, my Mother is the one.

My mother is complete in every way for me and the reason is because it is she, who has completed me, sees me accomplished. While walking on the terrain of my life, full with ups and downs, I always feel her presence like the soothing breeze, always encouraging me. Not letting me down or under anything, to give me anxiety of any kind. Her talk, her words, her voice’s sound fills me with the nourishment that is like love and peace.

Passing through the salad, through the appetizers, the main course, the desserts, the ice cream, let’s just say, without that one grain of salt at the brink of taste, your entire evening your life could end. Now that’s the real journey... Its cliché to compare her she is like a seven course meal complete in every way possible she is healthy like the salad. It is she who has taught me what it is to be healthy and whole and complete. When I was a kid she never forced me to do something she believed in a very simple policy that she would explain me what she felt was right and I had a chance to discuss with her clearly what I felt if I could convince her with my thought. I would win in this way. She made me who I am. I do I did I will, conquer and she will yet witness all of; as she has been with a smiles an endless smile on her face without imposing a dogma on me.

She is like an appetizer as she inculcated curiosity in me like an appetizer does for food to learn, to live life with a sense of wonder, with the sense of cherishment, etc. She taught me that question yourself when in doubt than questioning outside. She fills me with abundance like the main course is filled with abundance. So many dishes around to fill the appetite; she has filled me with abundance of emotions to fill the appetite of my soul and perform my duties.  

She is filled with warmth of love and care, like a hot bowl of soup in a way. There are times I do not understand her when I do not get things right. Those are the times when she is worried for me. Her way of showing concern, she scolds me! At times she apologizes later, I do get hurt but only till I do not understand her point of view. Just alike if you put hot soup in your mouth its warmth can burn you but then you understand your mistake. She is like a rich wine; she ripens in her wisdom as she grows older, this I have witnessed and I continue witnessing. She herself mentions that as I keep growing she keeps growing too as a mother it is a dual growth which cannot be separated. Just like the grapes from the wine.

Being a daughter the relationship is little complex because I look at her what a woman is. As I am growing up I have reached this stage, to an extent grown up as very another woman who lives her life, differently. I choose between imitating my mother having significant influences in my life. A slice of life on a plate, today I look back, and I see a canvas full of colors and yet the parts that shine are the silver grey, strands of hair in my mother’s hair. The experience and the baggage of duties that we all ignore on a 4 o’clock afternoon napping in our beds while she is up and about preparing the next meal. It is my turn to give back.. But then, we are friends. We're a team. Love is just the beginning. I am her taste, I am what she perceived 25 years ago, in a kitchen - a taste to make her Chef proud.

As an adolescent I might have look down on her my mother and think that other woman are much better. Of course I was not a fully grown woman which I am still not hence took the leverage to, do not understand the challenges and choices that my mother would have faced. It is only when I am becoming her slowly second to second day by day year after year I am one who fully appreciates my mother.

She is colorful like a fruit platter, bringing so many diverse joys together on my plate of life. No one will ever understand what she goes through and what strength she has except for me as I am the only one who knows what her heart sounded like from inside. And in every step I take my eyes wonder, I bow I bend on my knees.

Thank is a word which has a meaning to the core and on the outer surface as well. It is a word that comes to me first for my mother from the deepest core of my senses. Thanks to my mother is a truth that need-not-need a witness to prove. Not boasting about myself but about the motherhood that gave life to a satisfaction a smile as that last piece of salt, it is a great pleasure for me, to start living in this world through my mother’s carving. My mother the dearest will always be by my side wherever I go, wherever I be, this is a permanence to me to her to BE.