Benaras

The Benaras story on my travel blog.

Hope springs eternal

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Shefali Tripathi Mehta, January 5, 2014, DHNS:

WISHLIST 2014

We are stepping into the new year with a bagful of hopes. Hopes for an improved economy, good infrastructure, freedom from corruption, safety, stability of prices... Above all is the hope that we, the people, will effect change, writes Shefali Tripathi Mehta

January, that leads us into the new year, is named after Janus, the two-faced Roman god of beginnings and transitions, looking ahead and behind at the same time. All our hopes and aspirations for the new year are likewise tethered to the happenings of the past year.

The year gone by has been rife with political and economic uncertainty, so the mood this year is of watchful optimism. The overall sluggish rate of growth, inflation, rising prices, cuts on spendings, restrained raises and the lurking global slowdown — there has been little to cheer. But look deeper and we realise that the grim environment has perhaps offered us a chance to slow down and pay attention to life, family and friends; spend more time with those that mean most; revisit life’s priorities; and empathise with those that are struggling with less. Pessimism or apathy cannot last, only hope can. The start of a new year infuses us with hope, fresh as itself.

You can read the full article here. 

Grace under fire

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Shefali Tripathi Mehta, Dec 1, 2013, DHNS:

In the mad rush to win the race of life, courtesy and politeness are given the short shrift. Getting ahead by any means has become more important than acting with grace. Shefali Tripathi Mehta holds a mirror up to our society where refinement, elegance, thoughtfulness and kindness have lost their value.

Every evening, a bunch of kids — boys aged seven to nine — come to play near my window. It is the hour of the day I dread. It’s not the noise — the happy chatter of kids is quite mood-elevating and nostalgia-evoking. It’s the nature of the noise. The children are abusive and expletives that many adults will cringe from using slide off their tongues with such ease that I am stunned. The other thing I notice is that they don’t appear happy playing together. Each one is primarily concerned with wrangling control over others. The timid ones are alienated and bear the brunt of the offensive behaviour.

A new TV and print advertisement has a prominent toothpaste brand run down another popular brand, brazenly displaying the product and its name. Advertising wars are not uncommon, but such unveiled attacks were rare till recently.

Karan Thapar and his television show, the Devil’s Advocate, known for aggressive attacks on guests on the show, used to be an exception, and most people unaware that the format was its chief differentiator, were appalled by his rudeness. Today, every news debate borders on the offensive. No principle or social compunction stops politicians, celebrities, leaders, lawyers — the pillars of our society — from maligning, bad-mouthing, casting aspersions on others to win the war of words.

This aggressive behaviour that we see in our daily dealings slowly corrodes our sensibilities and sensitivity and leads us to a point where crassness does not only stops bothering us, but even seems legit for ends we wish to achieve. The line between being strong and compelling and being abusive and derisive has certainly blurred. Today we don’t raise eyebrows when people are rude and irreverent because it is commonplace. Courtesy and politeness are given the short shrift. In the mad race to stay ahead, we compromise on refinement, elegance, thoughtfulness, courtesy and kindness.

You can read the full article here. 

Next door to nobody

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Shefali Tripathi Mehta, Sep 22, 2013, DHNS:

Not too long ago, neighbours were extended family; people we could count on, at any time of the day or night. Sadly, it’s a changed scenario now when we do not even know who our next door neighbours are, rues Shefali Tripathi Mehta

There are no proverbial heppige mosaru or sugar-asking, bowl-in-hand neighbours anymore. And no one’s ruing the absence, yet. The word ‘neighbour’ has a typical connotation. A neighbour is neither a friend nor a relative. A fuzzy relation. When you introduce someone as your neighbour, people smile understandingly.

A neighbour is supposed to know you not from what you tell them about yourself, but from what they observe and overhear — how you conduct yourself in your daily dealings with people — house-help, courier guys, postman, presswala, driver; how you treat the space just outside your home — if you think of it as an extension of your house and encroach upon common space with shoe racks, children’s bicycles, discarded items or beautify it with rangolis, urns and urlis; how much you respect others’ privacy — not lurking at the windows to catch raised voices, not peeping in when their doors are left ajar; how much consideration you show by keeping noise low, inquiring when unwell; how you celebrate and how you fight. As G K Chesterton puts it, “Your next-door neighbour is not a man; he is an environment. He is the barking of a dog; he is the noise of a piano; he is a dispute about a party wall; he is drains that are worse than yours, or roses that are better than yours.”

You can read the complete article here.