It was Mother’s Day yesterday. A belated “Happy Mother’s Day” to all mothers, grand and great grandmothers, would be mothers, unwed mothers, and even mothers-in-law. A big salute to mothers of martyrs who laid their lives for Mother India. Also, to all the wives, who are looking after “kids” who now are veterans and behave like toddlers. Having said that, today, I want to bring to the fore certain mothers who cannot speak but can sing. Who instead of walking, fly and hop. Their home is not built by bricks and mortar but by twigs and grass. Mothers who get up well before dawn and sleep only after dusk, working tirelessly to feed their babies. Their clothes are their feathers and they don’t need a closet full of clothes. They don’t throw a tantrum for food but eat what they get, with no greed. They wear no makeup but look so beautiful. They do not crave for chocolates or pizzas. They drink from ponds and puddles. Their babies do not need straws, t...
While I was working with a steel plant, we had to report “near misses” every day. In the morning, all HODs would go over the events of the previous day and we had to submit our near miss observations. It would initiate a process to avoid such accidents. Let us come to the Indian roads for discussion’s sake, where every road is dug up with no markings. Traffic is terrible. Road sense is totally missing. Road rage is at its extremes. Driving on the wrong side is a birthright. Blaring horns and flashing lights are there to flaunt. Meandering is routine. Helmet gives a headache. Traffic lights are for show. Pe destrian crossings! What pedestrian crossing? The list is endless. Yet the traffic moves. Traffic police are seen occasionally checking vehicles which have other state numbers. “Ek Chalan to banta hai, because you padharoed mhare desh”. They sit and watch traffic snarls all day but do not move their butt an inch. The sabzi wala/fruit wala ha...