Singing the song of Solitude

Lying on a carpet of grass

Looking up at the sky

With no one by my side

Humming alone was I

Missing my old friends

I played with as a child

Would they still be the same?

As innocent and mild.

Then I heard that song

Tweet!  Tweet!  Tweet!

A bird was calling on,

But none came to meet

“Tweet! Tweet!”, said I

It looked at me surprised

With a single amber eye

“Tweet! Tweet!”, it replied.

“Tweet! Tweet!” it sang

Again did I sing.

So the duet began

The little bird and me.

It was alone like me

The bird did allude

We sang on together

The song of solitude.

 

- Nivedita

Front yard friends!

“Maaaa, come quickly…” I whispered urgently.  I tip-toed to the balcony door holding my breath.

Ma realizing what it was all about came to watch over my shoulder.

Mr and Mrs Sparrow were visiting our garden.  They had just moved into our neighbourhood and were looking for raw materials to build their home.  They were hopping about busily picking at the grass and weeds.  They flew away with some twigs in their beaks and returned after a while for more.

We lived in a flat and we had a balcony where we had managed to grow a small garden which, to my delight, attracted birds and butterflies in good numbers. 

When the sparrow couple had left, I kept ready for them a bowl of rice and another of water, for I knew they would return.  And sure enough they were back and eventually hit up on the treat I left out for them.  They took a break from their nest building business and pecked at the grains and the water!

They came everyday from then on, after a few weeks they brought their little ones along; the happy parents of two little sparrows!  They ate, drank and bathed in the water bowl, and made quite a show.  Within weeks they came in flocks!  Some mischievous little ones also ventured into the house taking off at the slightest sound.  They would scatter around in the balcony and chatter on and I would sit by the window and watch them, getting thoroughly entertained!  Pigeons, mynahs and bulbuls also frequented our little garden.

I have now been blessed with a home in the suburbs of Udupi, which feels like a nature resort in itself!  All I need to do is sit in my front yard and simply watch.  And luckily ample species of birds and animals frequent our garden. Among the birds are the commonly spotted crows, pigeons, bulbuls, parrots, mynahs, humming bird, and kingfishers, to coucals, cranes, drongos, wag tails, eagles (even bald eagles), wood peckers, and occasionally, peacocks, and animals ranging from dogs, cats, rats, squirrels to mongoose, rat snakes and the python (occasionally).  Besides these are the species whose name, I am afraid, I am not aware of, and would not want to offend the poor creatures by naming them wrong.  Then there are those who hail from the phyla annelida, arthropoda and reptilia.  

The other day this cat was sneaking behind a bush.  He was a black and white coloured tom, with a curious black patch on his left eye.  And I enquired, “Hey there! What you up to?”  And the look he gave me was alarmingly stern.  He then gave me a loud meowy cat scolding for disturbing him and walked off in a huff.  How rude!  I was just trying to make conversation, how would I know if he was about to pounce on some unsuspecting bird or a mouse!  We don’t see eye to eye since.  

Another day I spotted a mongoose trotting gaily by the side of the house.  He stopped suddenly, conscious of being watched, so I turned away pretending to examine a flower.  Only after he was sure no one was looking, did he hurry to his hiding place.  Well, I smirked, for I knew for a fact that he was residing with his wife and kids back there!

Monkeys are by far the most entertaining folk.  Though I have had some unpleasant experiences with them, in hindsight I feel it must have been more horrifying to the monkeys!  It was nothing much.  Just that I had a few encounters with the little apes closer than I would have wanted to (one of them where the little devil dared to pull at my dress), and every time in my defense I let out a banshee like scream, no, more like a red Indian war cry!  I suppose you can imagine the terror they must have felt as they fled for dear life!

But for these experiences, I find their agility and activity very attractive.  They sometimes visit us in troops looking for food.  They usually take the most conventional paths to move from one point to another.  Like the electric and telephone lines from pole to pole, or one compound to another.  Say they are crossing an electric line; each monkey goes with its own stunts.  If one goes on all fours, the other goes upside down, crawling like a sloth on a tree while another uses only the fore limbs with the hinds swinging in air and next one would spring like a trapeze artist. I am always fascinated at the sight of a baby monkey clinging to its mum like Velcro.

Snakes form the horror section of course!  Especially this programme on Animal Planet of the world’s deadliest snakes was pretty hair-raising!  Fortunately, I have had just a few momentary uneventful encounters with the rat snake.  

Clearly, the best entertainment I need, I get from nature!  It is amazing how much there is to see once you start observing nature.  You can actually watch like you are watching TV!  And I have the Animal Planet channel in my front yard. The joy you find watching a kitten or a puppy at play, the content you feel on seeing lush greenery or a couple of butterflies fluttering about one blooming flower to another are priceless!  You see it and take a deep breath, take in the sight and fill your lungs, and that feeling is nothing but happiness!

-Nivedita

It’s your day, every day! – With loads of love!

Padma’s father was an Agri. Graduate and worked in a sugar factory.  He had work in the villages advising farmers about growing sugar cane and guiding them in sugarcane farms in and around Mandya who supplied sugarcane to the factory.  Padma’s mother, got married at the age of 11, and later on had five children; Padma, Sarsu, Lilly, Guru and Venky.  The older children lived in the town with the grandparents for their schooling while the parents with the smaller kids lived in the village near the farms. 

Padma was the eldest of the siblings as well as of all the cousins.    She was the second mother to her sisters and smaller cousins and took care of them in their mother's absence.  She had grown up faster than most people, taking responsibilities at such a young age.  

One day they all went to the village to attend a pooja there.  There was a water canal running near the house.   Four of the girls ventured out near the canal when the elders were busy in the pooja .  Attracted by the flowing waters, Sarasu, Lilly and Malli, the three year old cousin, enjoyed crossing over a narrow stone which was used as bridge to cross over the canal.  While doing so the little kid Malli who was held by hand by Sarasu, elated by looking at the flowing water bent towards water with an exclamation.  Due to the sudden jerk and also due to the narrow path both lost control and fell into the flowing water.  The channel though not very deep, was sufficient to drown a three year old baby and the current of the flowing waters was sufficient to wash her away.  Lilly who was eight year old stood shocked and looking aghast at the scene not knowing what to do.  But Padma who was just 12 year old, without a moment’s hesitation jumped in and pulled out both the little girls who might otherwise have flowed away in the water.  Padma had saved two lives that day.  She would have probably got a bravery award for her heroic feat of saving two lives, like the ones they give on Republic day.   But surely she got a good scolding when they got back drenched all wet, that too for not taking care of the younger ones.

Tears welled up in my eyes with love and admiration as I listened to the story.  Padma is none other than my own dearest, loveliest grandmother, who has been a mother, my first teacher and a friend to me.  

She is the one who brought me up, fed me, taught me, and helped me with school stuff.  She is the one who was at home when I got home from school.  She is the one to whom I narrated the day’s events, about my friends and teachers, and who listened to it all with unabated interest.  She is the one I went to whenever I was in pain.  She is the one who cries for me when something hurts me.  She is the one who nursed me when I had fallen seriously ill and brought me back to normal. She is the one who pampers me and dotes on me more than anyone in my life!

 My grandmother has been my idol.  I don’t think there was ever anything unknown to her.  She knows home medicines when you fall ill.  She knows to mend things.  When things don’t work, she makes them work as if she has a magic wand.  She has an interest and eagerness to learn everything that comes her way. Her work is always impeccable.  She stitched frocks and dresses for her siblings, and then for her children, and then her grandchildren.  She knows embroidery, and crochet and knitting.  She knows to make all kinds of delicacies.  She is so disciplined and punctual, you can tell the time from her activity.  She works like a clock.  She relaxes only after her day’s chores are done even to this day and mind you, most of it all was self learning and auto suggestion. 

If she had been given good education and could have studied higher, I am sure she would have worked wonders; become a great surgeon, or an engineer or a great teacher.   She has been a homemaker and been within the confines of four walls of house all her life.  I feel she has done every activity humanly possible being at home.  She is so broad minded and open to new thoughts, considerate and compassionate.  She is a gentle, beautiful, adorable soul!

To this day, at the age of 80, she does not like to depend on others for her work.  Being a very active person all these years, she is frustrated with herself now, for like most old people, she feels she is useless and a burden to others.  She feels helpless, as her mind is still enthusiastic to work but her body fails to cooperate.  She complains she has had enough of life and blames God for still keeping her alive.  She is consciously aware of getting old and feels there is no point living any more being dependent and helpless.  But whenever I am with her and show her something new in my laptop I still see her eyes sparkle with interest.  We get our heads together and cook something or do something new, meanwhile chatting or playing music in the background. 

Grandpa is another interesting personality in our family.  The first thing that comes to my mind when you mention him is his smile; which lightens up his eyes in a twinkle! He is a unique personality in our family.  A man of principles, highly optimistic person, a theist and lives a disciplined systematic life.  

He lost his father at a very young age and worked his way to school and then joined the bank.  When he married my grandmother, he did not take any dowry in those days, and he had made it a point to bring the ‘mangal soothra’ and the bride’s saree.  You don’t get to see that much even in these days!

He does not share any close bond with any of us; he is detached yet loving.  He is not the one who tells bed time stories to his grandchildren.  But he is the one wanting to have them around him from the day they got vacations from school till the very last holiday.  Stubborn and adamant wanting his way always, he has become so child-like now due to aging.  He is as careless as can be.  He says, “If anything has to happen it will happen, there is no stopping it.  Now why worry about it?  Accept the fact and you will not be unhappy about anything and anybody. ” – is his usual preaching and lives by it.

As a kid I thought my grandparents had always been the same, never younger than that or older, and they would remain the same.  Somehow that thought, or image remains childishly, even today. 

I feel very strange and sad too, seeing a person grow old. Of course, it is something inevitable.  But seeing your dear ones, who had been so strong and the ones you depended on, who you imagined or wished and hoped would always be the same, suddenly growing old, weak and helpless, is heart wringing!  They become like children, or rather like grown up little kids!  Still they are the old know-it-alls (of course, they know it all and there is no arguing it), so there is no telling them to do or not to do anything  :D

On Teachers’ day, I am simply taking this time to write about them, the most significant teachers of my life, reminding myself of the important place they occupy in my heart.  They have been patient and persevering with us in childhood.  Whatever I am today, whatever culture or sanskar I have today, where ever I stand today, what happiness I cherish from my family is all their blessing, teaching, boon and the good ‘karma’! Yes it is!

With Loads of Love 

Nivedita

Gulf Guillotine

“The police knew, the judges knew, the officers in jail knew and so did the General Manager of Al Mansoor, who had lodged the complaint agaist him, that Krishna Poojari had not stolen the money…. Yet Poojari suffered the sentence.  All said the same thing,’ Both the thieves were Indians, and you are an Indian…’.  So, being an Indian was his crime?”

“For the past two years, I have no news from my husband who left for the Gulf. He is now in jail”, she said between tears.  She was very lean and emaciated.  She cried hysterically and had no strength to speak.

“On what charges?”, asked Dr Ravindranath Shanbhag.

“That’s why I am here. I have no idea. Neither does he know what crime he committed. Can you please find out? ” She pleaded.

Besides the information that Krishna Poojari was in a jail in Saudi Arabia, she was in the dark. On what charges was he sentenced?  Was there a trial? Since when was he had been in the prison? She had no answers to any of the questions

.

***********

Krishna Poojari hails from Kodi village of Kundapur Taluk.  He was too poor to receive college education. Though hard working by nature, he did not get a job in his village. Hence, like many other unemployed youngsters of Dakshina Kannada, even he proceeded to Bombay in search of a job.

He got himself a job in a travel agency on the Lamington road but the salary was too low to meet even his personal needs, let alone saving it. Even after two years of toil, he could not save enough to send money to his wife and children at home.

Many youngsters were flying to Gulf with the help of the travel agency where Krishna was working. Besides educated people like doctors and engineers, people with limited qualifications also found jobs as attendants, salesmen, etc. Krishna Poojari began to nurse ambitions of overseas employment. He got himself a passport.

Poojari goes to Gulf

He applied for a storekeeper’s job at the Al Mansoor Pharmacy, Al Khobar in Saudi Arabia, which offered him a salary of 700 Saudi Riyals. He paid Rs.20, 000/- to the travel agency in exchange for a visa.  Krishna Poojari flew to Gulf in March 1989.

Mr.Pujari proved himself honest and sincere at work. Having started in one of the branches of the establishment M/s  Al Saleh Mansoor Trading Company, he was soon promoted to be the in charge of all three branches.  He was responsible for issuing goods to all the five Pharmacies and three Supermarkets run by the company. Among his colleagues were three sales representatives.

He was expected to keep an account of all the goods purchased or issued from the store. General Manager Mr.Abdul Khader’s permission was required for all such transactions.  Mr. Pujari always looked for his boss’s signature before carrying out any transaction.

Mr. Abdul Majid, an Indian from Nagore, Tamil Nadu was the senior most among the sales representatives. Since Mr. Majid had to travel to far off places constantly for transporting goods, he found it difficult to get a signed sanction from the General Manager. Mr. Majid was therefore permitted to receive goods worth 80,000 Riyals without prior consent from the General Manager.  However, on Majid’s return, Pujary got the orders  immediately ratified by the GM.  This was the practice.

The sales representatives used to remit the sales proceeds to Mr. Pillai the accountant who issued a receipt. Mr. Pillai too was from India. Mr. Pujari never had the need to handle cash.

This continued for about eight years without any difficulty. Accounts were audited every week.  There were no complaints of any kind against Pujari’s sevice till December 1996.

Abdul Majid missing!

In January  1997,  Abdul Majid who had left the town with the goods from the go-down, never returned and, the unsold goods, if any were not returned.  When the Manager was notified about this, he said “Abdul Majid must be busy with trading. I take responsibility of the goods taken by him.”

10 days later, when Majid did not turn up, and they saw that 70000 riyal worth goods were taken away by him, the General Manager panicked, as he would be responsible for that amount.

On 25-5-1997, at 9.30 in the morning the General Manager went to Krishna Poojari,  asked him to stop his work and immediately go with him.  The manager took Poojari to the police station, and spoke to the Inspector in Arabic, none of which did Poojari understand.  The manager went away,  leaving Poojari there.

Poojari waited there for two hours.  The police did not speak to him or give any explanation.  Then one of them asked Poojari for his identity card.  But as soon as Poojari showed him his card, he was hand-cuffed and put behind the bars.  Poojari was in shock.  He did not understand why they were treating him that way.  His questions remained unanswered.

A bolt from the blue

A week later, the inspector approached him, “Tell me the truth!  What have you done with the company’s 70000 riyal?  Where have you sent it?  Speak up! Or you will be left here to die!”, he thundered.

“I am the store keeper. I don’t handle the money.  My duty is only to provide goods to those who bring the indent.  Only the accountant or cashier, deal with the money.  I have all the records of my dealings with the General Ganager’s signature.” Poojari explained.

“I don’t care!  The manager has lodged a complaint against you saying goods worth about 70000 riyal were taken away by some people from your country.  He says you are responsible for all those things.  I am warning you!  If you don’t return the money, we will kill you.” The Inspector threatened Poojari.

“All me dealings are legal and noted in the records.  Please take me to the office at once. I will show you all the records.  If you still feel I have wronged, I am ready to suffer any punishment.” said Poojari firmly.

The inspector seemed convinced.  The next day he called for the General Manager and asked him to take himself and Poojari to the go-down.

The General Manager refused.  He said that the salesman Abdul Majid and accountant Pillai had both escaped leaving the company’s vehicle in Jeddah airport.  On hearing this, the police beat up Poojari and then asked him to sign some letter which was entirely written in Arabic.  They beat him black and blue and again locked him up.

The next day,on  3-6-1997   8 a.m. in the morning,  Poojari was taken to court.  Poojari hopefully, explained his problem to the court and requested to be taken to his office, so that he could get a chance to prove his innocence by presenting his records.

The General Manager who was present immediately said, “Two Indians, namely Abdul Majid and Pillai have cheated the company.  Since that money cannot be recovered, I request the judge to claim the same from another Indian, Krishna Poojari, who works there.  Though judge and the manager conversed in Arabic,  Poojari soon made out what they were talking and was puzzled at the injustice done.  Just because the people who had escaped with the money were Indians Krishna Poojari was made the scape-goat!

When hell broke loose

When the judge asked Krishna Poojari to sign a letter confessing that he was responsible for the loss suffered by the company, Poojari refused.  He was ordered to be taken away and be beaten up till he signed the letter.  But he did not sign and they beat him unconscious.

When he regained conscious at night he found himself tied to a cot.  They asked him again to sign the letter.  But he did not.  They stuffed cotton in his mouth and gave him shock treatment until he lost his consciousness again.

He was taken to judicial custody.  After 40 days of imprisonment, Poojari was presented before court.  The judge was new.  Poojari requested to be given a chance to prove himself and explained his tale.  The judge said, “I agree, the sales representative and the accountant may have stolen the money.  But it was your responsibility to notify the general manager of the matter.”  Saying so, he sentenced Poojari 8 months of imprisonment and 320 lashes!

When Poojari wanted to appeal to higher courts against the verdict, the judge asked him to sign in some court registers and records.  Since it was all written in Arabic, Poojari did not sign.  As a result, he had to suffer his sentence.

The forsaken family!

When Krishna Poojari’s father, Soora Poojari came to know of his son’s state, he was completely distressed.  Never recovering from the shock, he passed away on 25-4-1998.  Krishna Poojari’s wife Baby was left helpless.  She did not dare to inform her husband of his father’s death, fearing whether  he would be in a state to face the tragedy.

Mrs Baby Poojari approached the Consumers Forum, Basrur, in December 1999.  The forum looked through the various documents she brought with her.  She had already written to the Al Mansoor Company and the Governor of Dammam requesting them to help free her husband.  Her letters to the Indian Embassy at Riyadh had not been answered.

Consumers’ Forum Basrur contacted friends in the Gulf and gathered some information regarding Poojari’s case.  They found that Poojari was housed in cell no: 5 of the Sijjan al Amma Jail in Al Khobar. He had been in custody for two years.

On 6-6-2000, Consumers’ Forum Basrur wrote to the Indian Embassy at Riyadh and requested for all details. They stated that Poojari’s wife has a right to know about his whereabouts and the charges levelled against him.

Embassy wakes up!

The officials of Indian Embassy, who had not responded to any of Baby Poojari’s letters, now replied to her assuring that they have requested the Saudi government to give Krishna Poojari’s details.

That goes to show that the Indian Embassy knew nothing about it for all these two long years!

The Forum instantly wrote to the Al Khobar jail and asked them what were  the charges  leveled against Poojari,   at what stage the trial had reached, and also asked them to furnish a copy of the judgement.

Consumers’  Forum Basrur finally managed to obtain a copy of the judgement on 25-4-98.    According to the verdict, Poojari was to be imprisoned for a period of 8 months.  But Poojari was already in jail for more than THREE YEARS!   The Forum activists informed the Indian Embassy of this strange anomaly and asked them to seek an explanation.

The Human Rights Protection Foundation, Udupi wrote to the Governor of Dammam and pointed out this blatant injustice.  The foundation also cautioned them about mobilizing world wide public opinion about this  if Poojari was not released immediately.  The Governor, in turn, wrote to the jail authorities. 

Meanwhile, Poojari  was on hunger strike in jail.  Abdul Rayid, the jailer of Al Khobar had developed a soft corner for Poojari.  He was certain that Poojari was innocent.

On receiving a letter from the Governor, the jail authorities went to the General Manager of Al Mansoor Company and asked him to withdraw the case against Poojari.  The very next day the manager withdrew his complaint.

The same day, on 5-2-2001, the jailer arranged for Krishna Poojari’s return to India.  When Krishna Poojari arrived in Bombay, he contacted our Forum by phone. 

“Sir, nobody should suffer like me. We must mobilize public opinion against such atrocities. I shall never again go abroad even if I have to starve.”

 
-Nivedita
(translated from 'Bahujana Hitaaya, Bahujana Sukhaya' by Dr Ravindranath Shanbhag)