Monday, 27 March 2017

The Destiny

Short Story
Mohan Kothekar
Writer and Blogger

Destiny is a good thing to accept when it’s going your way. 
When it isn’t, don’t call it destiny;
call it injustice, treachery, simple bad luck.
American Novelist, Joseph Heller

‘Prediction is very difficult, especially if it’s about the future,’ Danish Physicist, Niels Bohr said decades ago is still applicable to those who stands in long serpentine queue – particularly from the developing countries - to obtain the American Visa.  In the recent past, to get the Visa is equivalent to receive the priceless treasure; it has become more difficult in Trump era.  Various permutations and combinations, unreal to real, fallacious to authentic ways and means are used to obtain the Visa.  One has to incur a lot of money and to prepare oneself for Visa interview as if he is appearing in the Indian Administrative Service Examination.  What are the criteria for rejection and issuance is a water tight secret.  Lucky guys come out of the embassy yelling Eureka… Eureka… in a louder hilarious and joyous mood than what Archimedes in 17th century uttered when he hit upon the method of determining the purity of gold.  However, the number is so limited that once in blue moon such bang screaming is noticed.



The novel tribe of people – what we called in the present context as IT’s – has emerged under the leadership of stalwarts like N. R. Narayana Murthy, Premji Azim and associates from IIT’s and IIM’s; rushed for the greener pasture in the Nineties and the first decade of this century to Europe, America, Canada, Australia and other developed countries; most of them have conceded the new culture and environment as the epicenter of their work and life.  The adopted country has not only provided the latest know how in the field of specialization and awarded degrees and diplomas, but offered the employment opportunity that has transpired and churned the whole economy of the country of their choice.  The remnant migratory groups are joining the main flock.  IT companies are deputing the staff on H1B and other types of Visas; once they reach their destination, rarely they returned back unless it is warranted.

Great English Novelist of the 18th Century, Samuel Richardson once quoted, ‘the difference in the education of men and women must give the former great advantages over the latter, even where geniuses are equal;’ the present century disproves his basic tenet and quiddity.  However, in the present world, the African proverb, ‘educate a boy and you educate an individual, educate a girl and you educate a community,’ is more practical.  Modern boys and girls are the great disciples of Nelson Mandela, he said, ‘education is the most powerful weapon, which you can use to change the world.’  The world is transmuting with such a fast pace that no one has expected even a half century before.  The whole algebra, trigonometry, geometry and arithmetic of the mother planet have metamorphosed; once upon a time the things which were taboo had become the routine.



Half a century ago, if someone said that Mr Keshari Nath Tripathi from Hastinapur of Meerut district of Western Uttar Pradesh of India gets contented when scrumptious and palatable Idli was offered; Shanti Devi, who was uneducated and blessed with three sons and two daughters, her most favorite thing was South Indian Temples, its architect and intricate carvings, besides, a room exclusively reserved for God and chanting of mantras; the community would have declared him as daffy and foolish.  In the same way, well-educated and cultured T. V. Sundaram Iyengar of Chennai has affection and endearment for a Murrah breed of buffalo and also lush green fields of Northern India; and S. Jayanthi who blessed with a daughter and son and tries to become an expert chef in North Indian dishes and speaking in broken Hindi language; both would have been out caste and affirmed as betrayer and traitor of great Tamil culture.

In the twenty first century anything can happen.  Mr Sripati, the last offspring of Tripathi, and Mrunalini, the only daughter of Iyengar; while working on the same project have deputed for specific work in Los Angeles; they decided to marry after three years of friendship.  The youngsters of both the families have no hesitation and objection over the matrimonial issue; rather they act as a mediator between the elders.  After the initial hiccup, tribulation, turmoil and bustle both the families approved the wedlock proposal.  With the pride and conceit, the Tripathi family gets mesmerized due to South Indian culture; the only adversity was the Tamil language.  Haruki Murakami said, ‘learning another language is like becoming another person;’ so, the Iyengar family has developed an affinity for Hindi language, though hatred and embitterment still continued in Tamil Nadu.

Mr and Mrs Iyengar were quite contented when a glass full of Lassi (butter milk) was offered in the morning hours at Hastinapur; followed by milk, curd and paratha in breakfast, sumptuous ghee with Chapati and Rajma curry during lunch hours; Chole-Bhature at afternoon session and royal dinner with glass full of milk at night.  When Mr and Mrs Tripathi visited Chennai for the first time, the things were reciprocated with equal dignity, affection and amity.  Both were highly impressed due to Iyengar family’s command over English literature, sophisticated culture and varied South Indian dishes especially made from rice.  They were further en-grafted when a week pilgrimage tour was managed from Tirupati to Kanyakumari.  Settlement of marriage has become an easy task when dignified and noble treatment was tendered by both the sides.


Ms Mrunalini Iyengar, when became Mrs Tripathi, the first transformation realized at Hastinapur residency was courage and conviction for education rather than to follow routine traditional activities; age old ghunghat (Tulle) practice was abrogated at once; not only her sister in laws but nearby young married ladies extended thanks to her firm credence.  She gets handily accommodated in joint family culture; the first lady in the family who effortlessly became a trend setter; thanks for her command over fluent English.  Mr Sripati’s impression was par excellence due to his educational background, noble gestures and respects for elderly couples.  He became the role model during his stay in Chennai.  Mrs S. Jayanthi has special exorbitant adoration for her aloft, adroit and smart son in law who was bewitching and pretty fairer than her daughter; amalgamation of North and South Indian dishes along with Chapati was her first and foremost responsibility.   After the marriage, the couple joins their duties at LA; otherwise one should have found a new trend of culture in Hastinapur town – a city of Kauravas dynasty.

After four years of courtship, breaking news was flashed from LA was that Mrunalini and Sripati were going to become parents.  The first and foremost change observed at Hastinapur was the addition of one more Murrah breed of buffalo in the courtyard; her milk especially reserved for ghee production.  As per the age old Hastinapur tradition, a mother must consume a tin of ghee (sixteen Kg) in a span of three months immediately after delivery.  When the news of buffalo purchasing was back flashed, the affright, dismay and fear was noticed on Mrunalini’s face.  Had she has been well acquainted with such a nasty, disgust and repugnance age old tradition; she would not have dared to remain pregnant throughout her life.  She threatened her husband, if she forced to consume the ghee products, she will prefer to sue or will give diverse or will die at once.  Whether motherhood for Indian marrying girls is bane or ambrosia, hell or heaven, good or baleful, glee or sorrow she could not distinguish.   

The South Indian front was not lagging behind; it was the first occasion for Mr and Mrs Iyengar to become grandparents.  The pre and postnatal preparations were in full swing and that too on war footing.  Old clothing was already collected, cleaned with antiseptic, and dispatched to LA; In India, many people considered it inauspicious to do any shopping for the baby before the baby is born.  Indian enjoys festivals; one among them was Seemantham followed by Valaikaapu, the traditional South Indian samskara (ritual) festival and Godh Bharai a traditional North Indian festival meant for first time pregnant ladies.  The observations of a newly pregnant lady were fantastic; her South Asian friends were more traditional than their descendants in India.  In collaboration with adamant elderly ladies of India, her friends organized the grand gala function and the women flock from India joined them using Skype and WhatsApp. 

She remembers the H. S. Haskins’s words, ‘tradition is a prison with majority opinion the modern jailer.’  The family traditions are for joy or for punishment; Mrunalini could not able to distinguish.  She received such traditionally bounded flash news from both the destinations and compelled her to perform at LA; it has tarnished her endurance and fortitude.  The happy thing was that she was on the other side of the globe, few things were often declared done.  However, the modern electronic gadget has brought the world at a hand shaking distance.  Fortitude, pragmatic and experienced ladies of India had made her life miserable and forlorn.  She remembered Queen Victoria’s famous sentence, ‘being pregnant is an occupational hazard of being a wife.’  

As the pregnancy advanced, two pronged activities were carried out in Chennai and Hastinapur.  First, the complex and complicated arrangements for Visa; it was decided that the Chennai family will join the LA at the time of delivery and after six months Hastinapur family will replace them.  The cycle will continue till the baby attains six years of age.  Second, North Indian family was awfully busy in Gond (Gum), Suka Meva (Dry fruits), Methi (Fenugreek seeds), Halim (Watercress), Til (Sesame), Besan (Chick peas) and Dates laddoo (sweet) preparations in pure ghee; side by side, recipes from Bajra (Millet) ki roti, Dry Halva, Dry Paratha etcetera.  The South Indian family was equally enthusiastic; for breakfast, dry Idli, Dosai, Sevai and Soup; for lunch, a long list of different Kuzhambu, Sambhar, Rasam, Kootu, Podi, Fried Rice and other food recipes in abundant ghee followed by pickles and curd etc.  All recipes were dispatched to their destination well in advance, so as to avoid any complications during custom checking.

When the pregnancy reaches the eighth month, the first blow received from American Visa office.  The Visa of Mr and Mrs Iyengar was out rightly refused; the intents were the best known to the American administration.  That day was full of mourning and lamentation.  As a stop gap arrangement, Mr and Mrs Tripathi were ready as a night-watchman, they pre-pone their visit.  They received the date of appointment from the American Visa office, New-Delhi when Mrunalini was about to complete nine months of pregnancy.  The relatives, well-wishers, experience holders have tender them different shades of noble advice regarding how to obtain the Visa.  Mr Sripati was urgently sent to the Germany for the office work; he may likely to join LA after six months; Mrunalini was the lonely lady at home, her friends were inclined to support her during pre and postnatal period.     

The ‘D’ day has arrived; Mr and Mrs Tripathi were in a queue with all the credentials.  Shanti Devi was inwardly chanting Hanuman Chalisa mantras so as to get a Visa without any adversity and hesitation; Mr Tripathi was normal, physically and mentally.  The interview was officially arranged in Hindi language.  At the eleventh hour, Mr Tripathi decided to speak the truth with written proof; without bulging to the advice of near and dear.  The summarized English version of their discussion was, ‘my daughter-in-law has almost completed nine months of pregnancy and alone.  My son is in Germany for office work.  Nobody is there to look after the daughter-in-law.  If you allow us to join the girl then we will feel glad, if not then good-bye.  Before we leave, I want to quote what Andre Gide said, not everyone can be an orphan.’  With a minute pause, the American Officer asked Mr Tripathi in Hindi, ‘will Mrs Tripathi accompany you?’ Mr Tripathi answered for the first time in plain English. 

Mr Tripathi received Visa for ten years; he started his maiden voyage and reached the destination; on the same day, he became the grandpa of a girl child.  There was an unwritten agreement between Mrunalini and her father-in-law that he will enjoy each and every recipe specially made in pure ghee from India and in return, she will relish those nutritious dishes that maintain her figure.  One additional clause was added that every day she will prepare South Indian breakfast for her in law.  Only once, she dared to eat Methi (Fenugreek seeds) ladoo; it was so bitter that she never touched many of the recipes again; on the contrary, father in law has enjoyed and relished the pre and postnatal preparations as if he was pregnant and delivered a child.  She couldn’t imagine her figure, had there been forceful consumption of a tin of ghee in three months of time.  In true sense, Mrunalini and her father-in-law had enjoyed the so called delivery episode to the fullest extent.  They became the intimate friends of each other.             

Why Shanti Devi has not received the Visa is still the biggest question.  In her opinion, her spouse has played a major foxy, artful and villain role in not awarding her Visa.  What transpired between him and the American Officer in English were a conundrum and an enigma to the rest of the world.  After arrival, when Mr Tripathi was persistently asked what he said in English, his answer was, ‘yes sir.’  It is the chance that determines his destiny and not the choice.  So destiny plays an important role in the life of an individual.  As far as Mr Tripathi was concerned, the destiny played just the opposite role of what William Shakespeare wrote in golden letters, ‘it is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in our-selves.’   

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