Thursday 30 June 2016

                      
               

                        UDTA PUNJAB YA DUBDA PUNJAB


                       


                         

" Udta Punjab,"- a movie I felt compelled to see for various reasons....the first being that I was a Punjabi , the second that I had left Punjab about ten years back and was anxious to know the true picture as of today; the third and most important being that I had lived forty precious years of my life surrounded and affected by this escalating disease of chemical dependence. I had lost relatives, friends, patients, some dead, some alive, to this ever growing menace. Few fortunate ones had fought their inner demons, overcome their addictions and live clean today, saving others whenever the occasion arises. It is these individuals in whom our hope lies. It is these people who have known the horror of having walked that path, who best understand how alcoholism and drugs erode at their capacity to deal with this affliction. They always need the support of family and society to stay on the straight path and of course their own WILLINGNESS to stay clean.

During childhood we were away from Punjab being from an army background. When we visited our grandparents, I remember there being a single opium addict in the village-like most other villages too (called an 'amli') who was ostracized by everyone and died an early death. Nobody mourned him for there was no sympathy for those who sunk into such ways. Even then people had problems, frustrations or faced life's vagaries but did not look for solutions through chemical dependence .Today a teetotaler is scoffed at as a misfit in society. He is a loner today.

In the early eighties as President Lioness Club, Jalandhar I would organize seminars , visit de-addiction centers, give talks about alcoholism and drug addiction and even worked with drug and smack addicts. My children were very young then, barely five and eight years of age but I always took them along. Often, my club members and others would criticize me for this. They disapproved of children knowing about such matters and exposing them to such knowledge, not realizing that seeds need to be sown early for impressions on young minds to take root. Today those very families rue having lost brilliant and promising young boys beyond recognition, through addictions. Many daughters too have gone the way that earlier tempted men and boys mostly.

While working for Helpage India I realized how neglected our senior citizens living in villages, were. Most of the males in each family had gone abroad and the ones left behind fell victims to drugs because of easy money .The old parents were left to not only fend for themselves but were also burdened by the addict and the associated damage to the family fabric. We would sometimes even get requests from them to post their letters or phone their relatives as they themselves were unable to do so.

 This movie has projected the horrors of the situation with all its ramifications of not only ruining lives of individuals but the country ( I'd say the world) as well. The moral fiber of politicians, police and even performers in the entertainment sector has sunk to the lowest rung and is eating into the social fabric. Our artists and singers should be held accountable for their conduct and the ill effect their lifestyles and songs have on young minds. It has thrown up many questions about the police-drugs and politicians nexus openly in their faces with great courage and grit. It is now for the common man to carry the repair work forward from here.

It has also raised some very relevant and vital questions and as mentioned by someone called Khushwant Singh on FB, why is it that the Sikh peasantry is caught in this quagmire more than the Hindu trading class. Is it because the desire to try the forbidden is kicking back in the form of taking to other addictions because smoking is prohibited in Sikhism? Actually all addictions are forbidden-why is it focused only on smoking? Another reason perhaps is the easy money relatives back in India receive from those living and working their butts off in foreign lands. The false image of prosperity and boisterous living is pushing more and more people into debts piling to gigantic proportions, luring them to earning through foul but easier means.  Following the herd is another reason, perhaps. Those Sikhs who have moved out of Punjab are not only recognized for their hard work, and adaptability to their adoptive homeland but are at some of the highest posts all over the world.


  There is no end to the situations which might push one into this hell. What one has to do is think of solutions.De-addiction centers, Alcoholics  Anonymous and spiritual teachers are doing their bit but a concerted public movement and uprising is required to stem the rot. I shed a few tears during the movie for the ugly reality of my homeland; for Punjab and other similar places which are in danger of drowning in this flood of degradation and disaster. If each family takes this situation up as a personal battle we can still tilt the balance. I have saved some tears of joy for that day.

Friday 3 June 2016


In memory of my mother and for all caregivers whose dear ones have suffered from Alzheimer's Disease.




LOSING YOU

I cannot recall when it really started arising

between us a misty curtain settled slowly

as  the lines that separated our worlds

grew further and further apart

while we lost you bit by bit

there never again came a time

when we could call it a day

bringing you back except in fragments ,

when you slip focus for seconds and then regain

I hang on to the delicate thread of the moment

trying to soak up what you have to offer

with you on the border, you on the brink,

on the brim, on the rim of shattered shards

as you suddenly fade into thin air.

Although a long time ago, it had taken you away

at times it’s really tough seeing your vacant stare

into a space where the present exists not

and you ask me , “Do you have a Daddy?”

And I say, “Mom, he passed away last year.”

“ Hush! child ,what if he was to hear?”

And from dry eyes I shed many a silent tear

 

Today you mouth strange words and thoughts

but I pause not to correct you

for no meaning it can wrought.

Since you forget to remember

I too remember to forget

as I remember for you

so you don’t have to.

Nor feel that you asked me

the same question again and again

as I answer it again and again.

Just as I, as a child, asked

the same questions time and again

but you tired not of giving

the same answers again and again.

 

I am happiest when I see

wonder in your eyes

for the pall on your memory has not swallowed

your fine taste, as you finger and admire

the rich sheen of my silk raiment;

or your favorite pastime of knitting

as you sit weaving love, stitch by stitch

into caps for your grandchildren       

with multi-colored skeins of your yarns

taking care not to get them entangled

unlike your nerves which no longer can be tied

into knots close enough to stop

your today slipping into your yesterdays,

for the bald patches in your brain

cannot grow back memories, so dear to us all

as you lose yourself

in a maze of make believe stories

which fill these empty spaces.

 

Now that you are at long last free

I pray for the release

of the pain of present and the past

and grant everlasting peace.

 I also often wonder

 if you have found something greater

and what we called  Alzheimer’s

 was only a gateway to something better!