Of a little girl and her fascination for dams and bridges!

Once upon a time, in a crowded city in the middle of nowhere, there was a little girl who dreamt of dams and bridges. At her age, computers were a recent rage and everyone wanted something to do with it. But the little girl was fascinated by the alignments, the structural diagrams, the sluices and the gushing torrents of waters. When she expressed her wish to be a civil engineer, the same was rubbished by all the knowledgeable people around. Engineering after all was not for girls. She was expected to refine her thought and expression by studying literature, and history and political thought and likes. Not that the rebel in her accepted the choice before her entirely, she could do little to realize her dream of civil engineering.  She charted her path in alternate territories, became conventionally ‘successful’ but her heart jumped each time she saw the beautiful aqueduct colonial bridges and barrages which dotted her professional world.

A magnificent barrage with eleven sluice gates

Years later, passing by these wonders in brick and stone, she often thought (and still thinks) if life would ever afford her an opportunity to sit for hours along a river/canal and marvel at the shape and form of these structures. She envied the village kids (and even cattle) that swam freely and had the fortune of living in vicinity of such marvels of engineering. One seldom realizes the power these structures wield on the lives of thousands who possibly do not even acknowledge their existence.

Fortunately for her, her alternate ‘territory’ gave her ample scope to gaze and study and understand these structures to her heart’s content. The reservoirs, the rapids and even the abandoned canals beckoned her everywhere. Foolish as it often sounded, she expressed her curiosities and sought logic and explanations from anyone who could furnish the same. Often she stumbled upon fascinating stories associated with these. Perhaps life has an invisible law of compensation. Even her ‘alternate’ choice occasionally gives her rare moments to relive her dream.

Even if she did not get to build the bridges per se, in the words of T D Jakes, she likes to imagine herself as “a bridge builder, building bridges between people, between races, between cultures, between politics, trying to find common ground.” For all the bridges and dams she has spent secret hours gazing astonishingly at, she nurtures a wish of being able to look up the stars while standing atop a magnificent bridge. 

Irresponsible Journalism!

Please refer to the elderly-used-as-bait article by Mr Keshav Agarwal dated July 4, 2017. (http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/bareilly/for-compensation-seniors-sent-to-forests-as-tiger-prey/articleshow/59432920.cms)

It is sad that an unfounded news story has been published by a leading newsgroup without any corroborative evidence whatsoever. For the record, there are 300 villages which are located on the fringe of Pilibhit Tiger Reserve. The PTR has a population of nearly 50 big cats and some of these are occasionally spotted outside the core areas as well. The maximum incidents of wildlife-human conflict arise because of increasing encroachment by the local inhabitants into forest territories (whether for collecting firewood, prized mushrooms or merely open defecation). The administration on its part has been trying to saturate these fringe villages with LPG connections and toilets to the extent possible. The fact that the forest cover of the district has shrunk from 68% at the time of Independence to a mere 22% currently speaks about the shrinking habitat for the tigers.

There is no clear age trend in the eighteen or so incidents of man-wildlife conflict in the district this year. However, it needs to be mentioned that the ‘elderly used as bait’ story seems to be a figment of imagination drawing from some vague concept of Towers of Silence. Two things need to be mentioned imperatively at this juncture: one, no compensation is payable for the incidents which occur inside the core reserve areas and secondly, Pilibhit as a largely agricultural district is quite prosperous.

Lastly, the terai woodland forests are ideal habitats and not just tigers but most wildlife (leopards, bears, nilgais, deer etc) abound in the area. It is a matter of immense fortune for the country that tiger population has continued to flourish in this tiger reserve despite all odds. How one wishes that the news report had mentioned the recent loss of two bear cubs due to a speeding vehicle rather than concocting a story out of thin air.

District Magistrate 

Pilibhit

Finding Happiness!!

After a night of storm in Terai, I sat outside on the terrace of a hundred year old house, trying to make sense of the sounds of the night. Two fireflies playing hide and seek in the dark, caught my eye. And I wondered, while we spend entire lives trying to find happiness, isn't it actually as elusive as those fireflies in the dark. 

The stars in the sky continue to amaze me as ever. Are these the same stars I looked at from where I was a decade ago.. Are these stars silent witnesses to all my losses and gains in life.. Do they feel happy and sad for me at times.. Or do they sympathize for what becomes of us.. Will their tiny lights be a source of strength when all else fails. Whatever be, I hope they will be my small anchors in firmament reminding me of my journeys in life and how ephemeral all else can be. Happiness be mine!

Of a sun-kissed window and labyrinth of corridors..

It is not always about the navigating the labyrinth of corridors

It is neither always about the people and power

The stones and birds and trees

Tell their stories too

Not all of them can sadly be understood

Small moments can hold exquisite spells of beauty

Like those last rays of the fading sun

On a back-office window

Or the stunning symmetry of those columns 

And bays and cornices

How it must feel for the place

Whose story is long lost somewhere

To witness millions of stories 

Being created each day

And stay silent through them all

 

I am woman!

I am never the one to celebrate days for things like friendship, love and more so womanhood. Yet, call it serendipity, or whatever, over the past fortnight, a few books and movies just seemed to reaffirm my constant belief that a woman's life is never easy no matter what she does and how powerful she might be. I do not draw from political or social events yet the books/movies whose covers I reproduce below left me with a chain of thoughts that prompted me to share these stories.

     

             

And just as one good thing leads to another, I stumbled across life stories of two extra ordinary women recently featured by National Geographic- Eliza Scidmore and Marie Tharp. My small list is by no means exhaustive and neither suggestive. Yet these stories moved me somewhere deep inside.

While these stories are indeed inspiration, so are those of my mother, grandmothers, sisters, friends, neighbors, bosses and scores of other women who form part of our lives knowingly or unknowingly. Each one of you is a Sarah Grimke, a Beryl Markham, a Joy Mangano, a Waris Dirie, a MataHari, a Skeeter, a Scidmore, a Marie Tharp. More importantly, each one of you is a Woman. And each one of you is me!

And what better song lyrics to convey it all..

I Am Woman

~Helen Reddy
I am woman, hear me roar
In numbers too big to ignore
And I know too much to go back an' pretend
'Cause I've heard it all before
And I've been down there on the floor
No one's ever gonna keep me down again

Oh yes I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong (strong)
I am invincible (invincible)
I am woman

You can bend but never break me
'Cause it only serves to make me
More determined to achieve my final goal
And I come back even stronger
Not a novice any longer
'Cause you've deepened the conviction in my soul

Oh yes I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong (strong)
I am invincible (invincible)
I am woman

I am woman watch me grow
See me standing toe to toe
As I spread my lovin' arms across the land
But I'm still an embryo
With a long long way to go
Until I make my brother understand

Oh yes I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to I can face anything
I am strong (strong)
I am invincible (invincible)
I am woman
Oh, I am woman
I am invincible
I am strong

I am woman
I am invincible
I am strong

I am woman

Slipping through my fingers..

It seems only yesterday that little N was four months old and I wrote her a poem. Now, with her fourth birthday barely a week away, I sometimes wonder if she was ever that small, and if yes, then when did she really grow up. For all the things she says, all the ways in which she shows her love for me, A and her pet brother, S; I find it hard to believe that I was actually capable of bringing something so beautiful to this world. While words can never truly capture the churn of emotions inside a mother's heart, even now as I pull her close, I already dread the day she will grow wings and fly out of my nest. And when I saw this ABBA song in a movie early today, it was as if someone had channeled my feelings into words..

"Slipping Through My Fingers"

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning 

Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile 

I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness 

And I have to sit down for a while 

The feeling that I'm losing her forever 

And without really entering her world 

I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter 

That funny little girl 

Slipping through my fingers all the time 

I try to capture every minute 

The feeling in it 

Slipping through my fingers all the time 

Do I really see what's in her mind 

Each time I think I'm close to knowing 

She keeps on growing 

Slipping through my fingers all the time 

Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table 

Barely awake I let precious time go by 

Then when she's gone, there's that odd melancholy feeling 

And a sense of guilt I can't deny 

What happened to the wonderful adventures 

The places I had planned for us to go 

Well, some of that we did, but most we didn't 

And why, I just don't know 

Slipping through my fingers all the time 

I try to capture every minute 

The feeling in it 

Slipping through my fingers all the time 

Do I really see what's in her mind 

Each time I think I'm close to knowing 

She keeps on growing 

Slipping through my fingers all the time 

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture 

And save it from the funny tricks of time 

Slipping through my fingers all the time 

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning 

Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile

Its hard to say goodbye to my doll everyday. Irrespective of how good or bad my day might have been, her little stories make it all worthwhile. And for the rest of my life, I will remember this.