The Price of Water: A journey to Chickmagalur Part A

Families have many a reason to take a holiday- to unwind, to make a zillionth attempt to resolve personal differences, to utilize their LTA etc. Ours was because Madam S had to leave town on a social engagement. The prospects of managing the household comprising of me and her was too much for J, what with me not knowing where the pump switch was. I gave up a sincere attempt to reason with J, and so it was decided to visit Bangalore to avoid the risk of no water in the overhead tanks. Five days at U’s guest house facility at NIMHANS would coincide well with the Madams return.

Except that at the last minute (and not for the first time either!) , U regretted her inability to arrange the guest house. “If not Bangalore why not Chickmagalur? ..”went J’s reasoning .A century and a half earlier a certain queen in France provided a similar simple solution for her starving subjects. If they do not get bread, why don’t they eat cake?

Visit Chickmagalur for just a day? Tot up the time of travel, the change in transport and one is lucky to get a days holiday in four. My second attempt at reasoning with J, this time with the plea that an important meeting planned a month ago was falling during this period, did not carry weight.

The train journey from Hyderabad in air conditioned comfort (after many years) was pleasant. V was kind to send his car to pick us up, never mind that owing to a communication glitch; we were waiting on the wrong end of the station.

Lunch and dialogues on religion with V kept us occupied- save an embarrassment. A,the charming daughter wanted to read her poems to me, forced by J , me being introduced a Poet Laureate of the Chari clan. As I go up to welcome the girl, V’s booming voice echoes across the “Don’t go near her! She is Dooram!”  I froze in my tracks, pretended not to hear and shouted a big hello to A across the room.

Doora m? Gosh..! that took me back decades ago , when as a child I remember the few days Mother would stay away from the kitchen periodically...and we children were not to go near her. Mother threw out the custom quickly though, and now in the year of our Lord 2011 I witness the ritual once again: this on a kid , no matter how embarrassed she would have been  hearing the caution.

V is truly an enigmatic personality. A hardware specialist, successful very early in life with his first entrepreneurial venture landing him a fair treasure, V   took to Vaishavism with a vengeance, getting his Kannadiga wife and the two children interested as well. However, the sons tirunamam hidden by a crop of hair, revealed to me reluctance not expressed in deference to the temper of the Father. Likewise A’s poems on family discord seemed to reveal a soul in pain. V’s hospitality is legion and after a saatvic lunch we were on the bus to Chickmagalur.

German technology once again proved its worth when two hours into the journey the  sleepy driver jammed the brakes of the Mercedes bus and we were saved a fall into a ditch by a whisker. Save for that the five hour drive, for me was a period of stress as I reflected on the meeting that I had abandoned. A few sms exchanged with the client first hurtful, then surprised and ultimately reconciliatory, got the date shifted to the following week. Close on the completion of this exchange, we reached Chikmagalur

The taxi ride to the resort took longer than scheduled as the driver did not have the proper directions. Thanks to mobile technology and a  last bar of battery charge left in Js mobile , we made our way to the resort  past 9Pm. Reliance beats Idea hollow in its communication reach.

Bharat, the Manager of the resort received us and suggested we partake of the dinner first. A pony tailed engineer turned resort Manager, Bharat seemed far older than his age, wearied by guests of all types. His wife decided to get back to a job with Honeywell in Bangalore, leaving Bharat even lonelier. We exchanged pleasantries and after a quick bite reached the villa

Oh the villa, the villa! Set atop a hill with a clear 360 degree of mountains on one side and coffee plantations on the other three, the villa is tastefully decorated with bric a brac from across the world . It has obviously been designed by someone with an eye for things majestic in keeping with the royal background of the owners. The manicured lawns all around the villa with a helipad on one side, exhibit wealth but subdued not garish.

We were asleep in a trice.

Can I ignore this movement?

I looked up the definition of "catharsis" before starting this blog , in the hope that this was the word I was seeking. One definition in the Net defines it as "a discharge of pent-up emotions so as to result in the alleviation of symptoms or the permanent relief of the condition"  

Could the people taking to the streets in support of Anna Hazare be termed as a  catharsis? I would wager that a very large proportion of them would have abetted corruption at some time or another, like I have on numerous occasions. I would also wager that many themselves are guilty of corruption in their approach to their jobs. All too often, only the monetary aspect of corruption is highlighted. The non monetary nature of corruption is, in my opinion, far more serious. In the former the giver is assured of a result. In the latter, the loss of time , the mental agony, the hassles, the patent injustice etc are "costs" the person incurs if not in  money terms certainly in health and discomfort terms.

If , therefore, this spontaneity results in a "permanent relief of the condition"  it is a welcome step to have been taken long ago. Would it be a  relief from viewing every interaction as one that requires a "whats in it for me" approach? Way back in my convent school one of my teachers highlighted the altruistic nature of Christianity ( thou shall help thy neighbor) and the Karma approach of my religion , where my fate is largely my doing and its resolution likewise of my own initiative. Many a Hindu ( including myself) have rationalized a self centred approach to an interaction  as being blessed from above. If I get the better of the other bloke its my Karma and also his!

Could we as Indians achieve that paradigm shift whereby in our jobs  we  interact with another with a spirit of well being for the other, not for the sole benefit of oneself ? How often do we view a supplier as someone out to benefit from us rather than one who can set up a mutually beneficial transaction? Is it in the genes of a Head Constable  recording a missing document, not to see the discomfort that I am going through coming to the Station to fulfil a procedural requirement to secure a duplicate, but wonder why I am not handing out the Rs 100 norm for such transactions?

Notice the lack of any stir in our rural heartland. Blame it on the urban centric media if you will . My take is that the rural folk are far more pragmatic of the outcomes of such street demonstrations.Tomorrow,  he would need to take the time ( the whole day ) and the expense to the city headquarters for a Certificate from one of the lads presently filling up the streets. Is not this total exclusion of the rural sector by the print and visual media a corruption of sorts , a selective "reporting" if you will. Even in their reporting of the street demostrations the TV cameras were hard pressed to show the "numbers" "thronging" the street. Thousands and millions are fairly extensible words!