The Healer

He listens…compassionately
Reaches out
Touches people’s lives
A wandering nomad
He comforts
Those he finds around him
A sponge…
He absorbs negative energies from the universe
Offering in return
Strength and Solace

He listens…compassionately
And has forgotten how to speak

Reaches out…
Yet travels inwards

Touches people’s lives
But yearns to be touched

A wandering nomad
He comforts those he finds around him
Though is trying to find his way home

A sponge…
He absorbs negative energies from the universe
I wonder...whether he rids himself of those
And how he soaks in more

Offering in return… strength & solace
Though - what do you think keeps him from crumbling inside?

Memoirs of Surat

We land at the airport which is all of 3 luggage trolleys, 1 bus to ferry passengers between the tarmac and the terminal, 1 aircraft (which happens to be the only one that lands and takes off after 30 mins from that place, in the day) and about 50 or more people standing buy the fence watching the aircraft land ! I wonder where these people have come from and what they are doing there - bang in the middle of the day - since the airport is about 4 kms away from the city and at a place which feels like the 'middle of nowhere'. As far as I can gaze in any direction I only see vast empty stretches of land...growing weeds. Weeds that sway with the force of the wind that comes with the aircraft taking off or landing. Outside of that time, everything around that place is still and quiet! Something about this whole place and experience makes me feel I have alighted from a space ship and not an aircraft. Ladies and gentlemen...welcome to Surat ! It has been just about six months that the airport has been operational so its only fair to give them some time to settle down, though what beats me is that the departure lounge - with place for exactly 15 people to sit and little room for expansion from what one can see. How could someone miss something so obvious. Even as of today at anytime there could be more than 15 people at a time in the lounge and we're not even talking about scaling up for the future !

Outside the space station meant for 15, I see the road to the city dotted with grey grim looking buildings, most of them with cracks running through the facade in a criss cross pattern, interspersed by colourful bright new shiny structures...the now ubiquitous malls ! The contrast creates a jarring landscape of sorts. I have often see people pose in front of malls getting themselves clicked with cellphones and have wondered why. Perhaps malls have become tourist destinations of the present day. We spend our weekends not at the park or by the beach but at a mall. In new city, when i ask people for recommendation on which places to visit, 3 out of the 5 on the list are malls. Its a sad reflection of how times have changed.

Going further I happen to spot a hoarding, with a woman bending backwards on what looks like gigantic puri, with the tag line in gujrati that says 'har bite mein wellness'. The product in question - Trupti...a local brand of oil I guess. Though what is striking is how English words have infiltrated everyday lingo even in smaller cities. On an earlier trip to Lucknow, I came across women from a relatively lower socio-economic strata using words like coaching, diet, solid during the course of conversation

My last memory of Surat is walking into the house of the couple I am supposed to interview. A well spoken, seemingly well off couple, though living in a house that bears the same muddy grey look as what I found in the rest of the city. Something quite does not feel right ! At the end of my interview, we accidentally get talking about the floods in Surat a year ago. The lady of the house recounts her experience....of the water gushing into the house with just 2 hours of rain.....of not being able to save anything nor prepare for this situation....of running on the upper floor of her house with just a pressure cooker and a bag of potatoes from the kitchen...of living up there for 4 days eating just boiled potatoes cooked with newspaper as fuel. She points to the mark on the wall, the mark that runs throughout the house dividing each wall into two shades of grey...remains there as a reminder of how much water had collected in there. Silt that has settled itself into nooks and corners of the house and obstinately refuses to go! Her story interrupted by sudden burst of crackers and street celebrations as India defeats Pakistan and takes home the world cup. Next morning the newspaper headlines...Surat celebrates an early Garba !

Canvas 2

The only color I saw on the canvas was white
The lines I drew did not a picture make
And a silence filled up the empty spaces
The canvas lay still un-spoilt!

Amritsar Diary

The SUV town
The first thing that struck me in Amritsar was the contradictory worlds that co-exist in that one place. When saw a hip 20 something in her tight three quarter jeans greet someone who looked like a stereotypical punjabi middle aged village woman, with an anglicized 'sat sri akaal'. Outside the airport, one can't help but notice the sheer number of SUVs plying on the road. Even if you were less attentive to vehicular traffic the loud punjabi music barring from inside these fuel guzzling monsters would catch your attention. The shiny new Taveras & Boleros share their road space with dusty, run down cycle rickshaws, the bajaj scooter from yesteryears and sometimes even tractors !

Push v/s Pull
Once inside, the town follows a circular path. To go from any point in the town to any other, one has to cross a short over bridge, or so it seems! It is easy to separate the outsiders from the native crowd at this point. They'd be the ones who'd give the cycle rickshaw driver a breather as he trudges with his vehicle up the bridge, walking behind him and sometimes even offering to help with a nudge, while the local punjabi women sit firmly atop - unaffected by his plight. With a smug look across their face they stare at the un-informed traveler who has offered to walk.

Golden temple at midnight !
I am not sure whether this is the only temple in India that is open all 24 hours. It certainly is the only one I know of! The crowd inside even as late as 10 pm is unimaginable. One would have to see it to believe it. There were easily a few 1000 people in there and that was not a festive day crowd. Langar (free food at the Gurdwara) is served to anyone who walks in. One of the locals there tells us - in big cities there would be many people sleeping hungry but in Amritsar I doubt anyone would go to bed on an empty stomach. People eat and even sleep inside the temple. Sitting alongside the sarovar (the water body that surrounds the sanctum) and watching the golden hues that reflect on pitch dark ripples, with the sounds of the gurbani reverberating in the background is a truly elevating experience !

A D-shaped well
Jallianwala Bagh does not reflect the character of place which once made history! It is more like a public park that one would find in an average Indian city with huge signboards at the entrance forbidding people from plucking flowers! The only reminders of the massacre - is the narrow lane at the entrance that prevented people from running out and the Well at one corner of the bagh which people jumped into, to protect themselves. Strangely the well is D-shaped unlike any others that I have seen. Covered with a rusty mesh an all sides it is difficult to look too deep into its gaping mouth. Though when cheeks pressed firmly against the mesh when one peeps in - you see at the bottom some shallow green water with coins glistening from beneath. I wonder what makes people throw coins in water bodies - and it is not just an Indian trait.

Marwari Dhaba
I had perceptions about Amritsar before visiting. I imagined a place with people having a strong gustatory orientation sipping thick lassi and eating tikkas at local dhabbas alongside the road. These are conspicuous by their absence. The only reflection of what might be people's food preferences here - is a sign board that announces - 'daily needs - kulcha and sweets'. We settle for a marwari dhaba for want of an alternative. Inside I see a predominantly south-Indian looking crowd. It is a disorienting feeling to be in the punjab heartland, at a marwari dhaba and see a south Indian populace! One look at the thaali and that explains it - for people visiting from the other end of the country a place that serves them rice, pickle, papad - would be a delight. Not to mention it is pure vegetarian ! The only thing missing was in their meal was the thair !

Desh Ka Brand

Pehle Desh ka namak...phir desh ki taakat (Parle G)...ab desh ka frooti !

I could tolerate Tata Namak saying it...Namak still had some historical symbolism associated with it - with Gandhi marching to Dandi, the humble salt was thrown into limelight. Then Parle G's hindustaan ki taakat was a bit of a stretch. At least the execution is not annoying. The Frooti ad really pressed all the wrong buttons!

The brand is a) fairly young to make that claim b) not even a staple, wholesome, rustic kind of product. Its a indulgent category and c) haven't we heard enough of desh ka yeh, desh ka woh

They could have at least saved the day with a better, more emotionally gripping execution...but no...they had to screw that up as well !

Hasn't enough been said and written already about our country brimming with diversity and contradictions? Very few things truly hold a pan Indian identity ! Given that, I wonder why brands try to become pan Indian and whether that really works for people?

What next...Desh ka Pepsi ?

Work-Life balance on the blog

Though it's a little late in the day to mention this...but what the heck !

I used to write about work related stuff on this blog earlier - but the few readers that i had here threatened to run away and in the interest of keeping the work-life balance (It's a different story that work has completely taken over life, blog and all else these days) on the blog - I decided to branch off into another one. Thus was born 'The Qualitative Research Blog'

So if you have come to this blog looking for stuff on market research, please go here

Thanks for dropping by.
Reshma

Lucknow 2 years hence...

Last week...work took me to Lucknow again after a gap of almost 2 years. As the flight descended on tarmac of the Amausi airport, I was reminded of my last visit. Not much has changed in 2 years...at least on the face of it. The small airport with its courteous staff still bears a deserted look for most part of the day.

Outside, the streets...dusty with the arid summer air. The retail revolution has spread its tentacles far and wide – we see visible signs of the arrival of hyper markets, in the conspicuous orange hoardings for Spencer’s that dot the arterial road which connects the twin cities of Lucknow and Kanpur.

This time around, talking to mothers about the aspirations they have for their kids, took me by surprise. They talked about the dreams they have for their daughters…about the daughter being considered an equal…not having to wait for her brother to finish eating before she was served…about the independence and freedom they have to move out and around in society…not just the opportunity to have a career but also the privilege to make the choice about what it should be. And as parents they no longer thought of putting their life savings only to fuel their son’s future as an heir to the family. Investment in a daughter’s education was as important – educating the girls in this generation is ensuring the upliftment of the next generation – this coming from women who belonged to the lower strata of society – was such a heartening thought.

I spent the rest of my day there with a smile - beaming across my face.

Perhaps in the years that have gone by another quiet revolution had started to take root in Lucknow.