Learning English language.

I must have been in class 6 in the Middle school section of Govt Higher Secondary School , Betma when I got fascinated with English as a language but the entire echo system around me neither encouraged nor provided any machinery to learn. There was no compulsion either to learn the language. I was interested in sports like Hockey, Cricket and Football but for all these, specially the first two the radio also had started giving running commentaries of important national and international events in Hindi. Thanks to Jasdev Singh for Hockey Commentary and Indore's own Sushil Doshi for Cricket's live commentaries that the only radio station Akashwani Indore was giving commentaries largely in Hindi. 1968 Mexio city Olympics must have been my first event when I was glued to radio, in a neighbour's house since we didn't have a radio at home, listening to Jasdev Singh and was getting excited with every match and with win until the semi final when India for defeated for the 2nd time since 1928 and secured only 3rd position. At the same time Sushil Doshi (later my Alma mater) mesmerised with the first ever Hindi commentary of a three day match (not a test) between India and NZ from Nehru Stadium, Indore. A promising young  Gundappa Vishwanath was playing Chandu Borde led India Board's eleven for the first time in Oct 1969 and had an impressive performance that led to his selection for India 11 a month later in the 2nd test against Australia in Kanpur in which he created a history by scoring a duck in the first and a 137 in the second innings. I remember how people at green park Kanpur got agitated and threw matkas in the field targeting vishy when he got out for a duck. Both these commentators were the best in their class to create a live match in front of you giving an account of every pass or every ball. 

So listening English for those matches was ruled out. I think by then the only word I had learnt speaking was YES. I remember having said that to someone watching us play a desi game in Poora Bazaar when he asked me in Hindi तेरा प्वॉइंट था क्या? ( Was it your point?)

English was always the most spoken language in the world. I am not sure if the statistic back in 1967-68 but I suppose in terms of percentage it must have been the same as it is today. When you look at 2019 statistics you find that English is spoken 50% nations of the world and nearly 15% of world's population speak the language that is marginally ahead of Chinese in terms of people who speak the language but that is because in China that is the most populous country in the world hardly any other language is spoken other that Chinese. But there are only five countries in the world where significant population speaks Chinese.

So the advantages of speaking English as first or second language were obvious for nations and for their people not just in terms of abundant information and knowledge that is available in English but also to expand business opportunities individually and collectively as a nation.

Knowing English had always had an advantage in India since past 300 years initially for trading with English speaking countries and later when the colonised us to communicate and put the local views forward to their masters who ruled us for nearly 200 years if not more. British did commit unpardonable atrocities on us and it was necessary to remember that only as a part of history, moving on in life for India was more important than to hate British because world has changed and continued to change. Dominance of English in life was not to be ignored anyway for the development of individuals as well as that of the nation. We already had a large number of English speaking people and it was one language that was common across the country although not spoken by masses at the time of independence of the country. But gradually that number was increasing and it had become the language for conducting business across the country and internationally. By no means, in my opinion, a language makes you slave or continues to have dominance of British over an independent nation. Had that been the case America would have developed an indigenous language different from English. Advantage of learning English language ( any language for that matter) are galore and we can go on and on in its favour.

However, during 1968-69  when I was in class 8th the right wing politicians started a campaign in the entire country against English under the banner "angrezi hatao/अंग्रेज़ी हटाओ" similar to Gandhi's Quit India movement in 1942 for English (people)to go. Some politicians, intellectuals and philosophers who advocated for the campaign were of the opinion that using English was a sign of slave mentality and thereby a hindrance to India's growth. Philosophically, people subscribing to this have not vanished as yet.. they believing hating English is same as hating English.. fisrt is the language and second being people who ruled us. It was an everyday event for over a year when these people, whose themselves had no brains to think and whose brains were corrupted by some politicians driving this movement to score a point, resorted to blackening anything written in English on signboards, busses or wherever. They also confiscated newspapers and books written in English and burnt them in the bazaars. It was such a terror that no one could dare speak or read anything in English even in privacy. Given this, it was obvious that the English language as an option was removed from high school so when I went to class 9th, I had no option to learn the language. My father had little knowledge of the language and he was not against learning the same but he could do little to help. My mother studied only till primary before her marriage at the age of 13+ and had done an equivalent of BA in Sanskrit from Bharti Vidya Bhavan practically self learning. So her teaching us English was also out of question. She also encouraged and taught Sanskrit to all of us and we all managed to pass short of the BA equivalent before we cleared our high school exams. I remember travelling to Kanvan, another village where my father was a teacher before we shifted to Betma, for appearing in those exams as that was our centre. Excelling in Sanskrit that time awarded me with a Sanskrit scholarship of Rs 250 per year in high school and that was big money that would take care of not just my school expenses but also all other money spent on me in a year. Although I was not in control of spending money, on my suggestions a smart ladies Henri Sandoz (a popular Swiss brand) watch was bought for my mother that stayed with her for many decades. HMT the popular Indian watch was either not around or had a queue of many years that time. 

I didn't know this is going to be a big disaster for me and my contemporaries who had faced this agitation. But all agitations fizzle out with time either with or without achieving the objective .. good or bad. In July 1970 when I entered class 10, the agitation had slowed down considerably at least the fizz had gone and when I opted English as an optional language, given the history of precious two years and my own zero knowledge of the language, I found that I was the only student opting for it and was assigned a teacher who in my opinion either not conversant or not interested in or was a sympathiser of the agitation. He reluctantly started with teaching me alphabets a,b,c,d...in so disinterested in the whole affair that he will simply ask me to write alphabets and go out for a smoke. This went on for a couple of months after which he stopped taking classes. 

You could understand my enthusiasm and disappointed at the same time. I didn't have enough courage to reach out to our new Principal Mr Aaraa Pandit (actually his name was Anand Rao Pandit, but he used to sign in Hindi as आ रा पंडित) who succeeded Mr Sabnis a year before. He was very approachable and good natured but that didn't encourage me to speak to him. 

Finally, in April we had the 10th board exams and for English, I was the only candidate. The exm paper was obviously in English and the only thing I understood from the exam paper was one question that said "write an essay on Jawaharlal Nehru, our first Prime Minister" that carried 20 marks. I kept looking at the question paper to make a meaning of other questions but failed. When I started writing the essay and barely had written 8 or 10 lines about JLN in my grand English, I thought to write more and to answer I need some support. I never shared to cheat and requested the invigilator if I could refer to the text book that I had kept outside the exam hall, he sternly brushed aside my request resulting in my declaring " I finished, sir" and handed over the answersheet to him so that he could also call it a day and may thank me for that.

When the results came I was happy that for writing those 10 lines or less I for 12 marks out of 100.. I don't remember what I wrote but I suppose these marks showed my love for Nehru and his blessings.

So that is the story of my learning English. I still suffer from the lack of formally learning the language. But for my approaching friends and anyone who knew the language well especially my friend Mahesh Tambe who came to was my roommate for over 4 years and my wife whom I could ask for corrections in spellings and grammatical mistakes anytime and anywhere over the last nearly 35 years, I wouldn't have been writing these stories in the language that would have remained alien to me, or is it still so? 

You decide.

Picture courtesy OLX.

If I were a Principal.

Dumbel PT was very exciting and I would do it dexterously for which I was chosen to lead the PT in the school every morning along with a couple of other students who would take my place as standby if I didn't come to school. Not just dumbels but even the other forms of PT, I will lead that would include the PT in standing and sitting postures. So the lead student would be mounted on a sturdy table in the front row and sometimes on the dais that was a small multi-purpose platform that would be used every day for school assembly for prayers and on special occasions for addressing the congregation as well as to stage plays and other school functions. I was always the youngest in my class from kachchi pehli ( KG equivalent) till the end of my engineering degree. From KG till 3rd standard, 4 classes I finished in 3 years. In the sixties there was a provision that if you perform well in the class you are given an option to appear for exams of the next class and should you clear that, you get promoted not just one class but two classes in one go. When I started in kachchi pehli (one class before class 1) then too my fellow students were older but after the "double promotion" when I cleared both class 2 and 3 in one year, everyone in the class was on an average two year older than me.

 

Most often I was a favourite student of teachers as I was obedient, I think so. Perhaps that's why in the middle school classes (6th through 8th) I got the chance to lead PT. Everyone used to call Dumb Bells "dumbel" and I never knew until many decades later that it is dumb bell and not dumbel and realised it is an English word and not a Hindi one. After passing out from school no one talked about dumbels and the next time I saw them was in a Talwalkar’s gym in Bombay during Asian games in 1982 when there was a frenzy in sports activities. The PT drills got so engrained in me that even today I know all those sequences एक दो तीन चार, पांच छः सात आठ, आठ सात छः पांच, चार तीन बदली कर (one two three four, five six seven eight, eight seven six five, four three change to the next).

 

When I went to class six the school changed from primary to middle. Middle and Secondary both were in the same premises with different class rooms and different staff rooms for teachers. In the middle school we were not taught home science or science but instead we had horticulture (बागवानी). So the subjects were Hindi, Sanskrit, Maths, Social Sciences and Bagwani.  Mr Sabnis was our Principal for the entire school, he was a very handsome, tall man and a strict administrator. I always looked at him in awe whenever I saw him and although his younger son was in my class and I never managed enough courage to go up to him and meet him beyond saying "namaste sir" when I saw him in the premises. His elder son Vipin was in the last year of school when I was in sixth and I used to admire and fancy him as he too was equally tall and handsome and would play cricket with us even after he passed out from school. As every student, I too was fond of cricket and always loved to bowl as a left-hand off-break spinner. I used to manage to spin the "leather" ball on the soft mud pitch that we used to curate ourselves. Now, I shudder to think of the danger the leather ball posed without any safety gear. I always used to wait to bowl Vipin bhaiyya but never managed to take his wicket. The game of cricket continued until I graduated from the high school.

 

The same year my father was transferred to another village on the other side of Sanawda called Badi Billod aka Kali Billod that had pucca approach road. My father also saved up some money and bought a bicycle to save on time as Kali Billod was more distant than Sanawda, about 5 kilometres from home and walking would have taken much of his day. It was a Raleigh, a new shining bicycle that we were not allowed to fiddle with since we didn't know how to ride that’s because we were not tall enough. But I was so impressed with the cycle from this British company that when I got admitted to engineering college many years later and bought my first bicycle that was also Raleigh. Unlike the one for which father paid some Rs 75 six years earlier, I paid Rs 192 for mine out of my own, my scholarship money.

 

But there was an excitement to ride a bicycle. I think I was in class 7th when one day I decided that I will ride a bicycle. I had done that a couple of times earlier with Damu and managed to balance it well. Since I was not tall enough to get over the bike, I used to ride it what we called a kenchi (scissor) style. It was very common those days for kids who didn't reach to the height of the seat. In kenchi, you would put one foot on ground and take the other on the peddle of opposite side and by giving a push through the paddle you will bring the cycle in motion and paddle only half and half while balancing the cycle, both your feet are still well below the front bar where at times a passenger would sit. When you become expert but still not tall enough, you would paddle full circle rather than half and half. So that day I sneaked out of the class on some pretext and picked up a bicycle from the cycle stand, I didn't know whose cycle that was and rode that home that was less than half a kilometre. I had nothing waiting at home so I simply drank a glass of water, there was no one home so no questions asked. While I was returning back to school at the main cross road that was the highway connecting Indore to Ahmedabad, it was an upward steep slope and my kenchi style could not give enough thrust and just when I reached the road, I couldn't balance and fell down, my head hit the road and I passed out for a couple of minutes when I came to my senses I noticed a couple of buses had already passed and had steered away from me. I got up little shaky and walked to school with the cycle, I had no clue what I was doing but managed to put the cycle back to where I had picked up and went to my class that had just started. There was blood on my collar and someone noticed and told the teacher who promptly sent me to Dr Khadaite's home and I was given dressings both physical and otherwise since Mrs Khadaite was like my aunt, my mother's classmate-sister who went together to the silai-school. Somehow I thanked my stars that it didn't get flared up or was it, I don't remember that.

We used to call our school’s annual functions "gatherings" and that was the best time of the year in the school although I never took part in any cultural events, which were the best part besides the feasts that were an everyday occurrence for all the three days. Every evening there used to be cultural events and during the day there would be sports competition. The sweets for the feasts would come from Indore and from each of the high school class a select few students would travel to Indore with a teacher and bring lots of sweets depending on the contributory collection. In the middle school we considered this very privileged activity since we were not allowed to go to Indore for this and this was restricted to high school classes only. I think in the 9^th standard I got my chance when I too went to Indore and to Sarafa Bazaar where Sweet shops were concentrated, with a teacher and a couple of my classmates. Out teacher had some social visit and we decided to take a break and went to Alka Talkies near Jail Road to see a Biswajit- Babita-Helen starter film "Kismat" and I still remember the song "kajra mohabbat wala.." in which Biswajit was dressed as a woman to hide from cops or someone. This was perhaps the first occasion for me to watch a movie in a big hall on my own besides some movies that I saw in Dewas in Mahesh Talkies or Nagar-niwas talkies during summer vacation with family. Oh yes, there was one more occasion when we had gone to Indore to our Bua's place when I was 9 or so and sneaked out on my own and went to Neelkamal talkies in Nandanagar area without telling anyone. The movie running inside the hall was Rajesh Khanna starter Aakhri khat. I had no money to buy ticket and stood there in front of the entry gate for a long time, may be 10 or 15 minutes when a gatekeeper asked if I want to see the movie, he knew I would love it since it was a story of a small child played by Master Bunty who was too small and had disappeared and the movie revolved around that event. I was only too happy to see the movie and when I got back home, no one even noticed that I was missing for over 3 hours.

Record-action, as the name suggests are the dances performed on stage when a song is played in the background. Unlike current days when you play a song over Spotify or YouTube, back then you had a gramophone record player that will play the choice of your song over a poly-vinyl record connected to an amplifier system. They were itemised songs unlike the item songs these days. Students would practice them for weeks before they put up the show. Since there was no access to the real dance in the movie, the choreography would be done by someone who has seen the movie or often times by watching the performances of some other troupe that occasionally put up shows in Betma, where an artist has performed/danced on the song. The songs that were quite popular and performed year after year were like "jhumka gira re, Bareilly ke bazaar men" and “Paan khae saiyaan humaare".. there would be some comic skits and parodies too that would make people laugh heartily, like the one that Damu created and that still tickles me to this day. " Tumane kisi ki bhens (buffalo) ko jaate hue dekha hai, woh dekho mujhase ruth kar mera paada ( a buffalo calf) ja raha hai”. The original song being: tumane kisi ki jaan ko Jaate huye dekhaa hai, Wo dekho mujhse roothkar, Meri jaan jaa rahi hai".

One day there was an extempore speech competition and I got the chit " if, I were a Principal".. I came on mic and started with this…

“If I were a principal, I would remove the attendance register and I will allow everyone to do what they want to. I will tell teachers to distribute sweets in the classroom and I will debar teachers to punish students and so on and on forth for about 10-12 minutes and everyone had a hearty laugh and I won the competition, thanks to jury who loved my sense of humour.

---------

Representative picture of PT exercises with dumb bells taken from Internet.

ज़िन्दगी एक ख्वाब की

ज़िन्दगी एक ख्वाब की

--

एवरेस्ट चढ़ूं 

ये मेरी ख्वाइश नहीं

ना ही आसमां की ऊंचाई

छूना, या

सागर की असीम गहराइयों को पाना

मेरा अपना एक एवरेस्ट है

मेरा अपना एक सागर है

मेरा अपना एक आसमां है

ये सब कभी उनसे ऊंचे

और कभी गहरे हो जाते हैं

बस उन्ही ऊंचाइयों में

उन्ही गहराइयों में

मैं अपने ख्वाबों को और 

जीवन की ख्वाइशों को पा लेता हूं।

नाप लेता हूं धरती से गगन और

सतह से अथाह सागर 

ख्वाबों में जीना मेरी 

आदत सी हो गयी है

ख्वाबों से लड़ना मेरी

आदत सी हो गयी है।

प्रदीप/फरवरी १६, २०२१

ख्वाब..

ख्वाबों के ख्वाब

क्या किसीने कभी ख्वाब देखने का

ख्वाब देखा है?

जब ख्वाब ही अपने नहीं होते हैं

तो ख्वाबों के ख्वाब कैसे अपने होंगे

बेहतर हो कि ना कोई ख्वाब देखें 

ना ख्वाबों के ख्वाब

ताकि ना आप रुसवा हों 

और ना ही आपके ख्वाब।

पर ख्वाब क्या सच्चाई से परे होते है?

अगर नहीं तो फिर आओ 

ख्वाब देखें और उन्हें 

सच्चाई में तब्दील करें।

प्रदीप/फरवरी १५, २०२१.

Touring Talkies.

When Shailendra wrote "mere man ki ganga aur there man ki jamna ja.." in 1964 for Raj Kapoor, Vyjayanthimala starter Sangam, also directed by Raj Kapoor little did he know that people will take another meaning of these lines like they were used to, for Dada Kondke lyrics. This depended on the people who wanted to use a different meaning out of just about any song or sentence. But that apart when released the film was a superhit. Unlike these days over 56 years back the movie would be first released in a few metropolitan cities like Bombay and Delhi as initially only few prints would be made and depending on the response more prints of the film would be developed and sent out to across the country for release. Raj Kapoor indeed was a big name in the industry so it was unlikely that the film will not be a hit. It was a silver jubilee movie(running for 25 weeks for all four shows in a theatre) and later became a golden jubilee ( 50 weeks non stop) superhit. Distributors will charge theatres who want to run the movie in their cinema halls depending on these ratings and also on the star cast. Everything was perfect for Sangam, a hit star cast, director, lyricist, music by Shankar Jaikishan and singers like Mohd Rafi, Lata Mangeshkar. So obviously theatre owners had to shell out quite some money and commit rent for at least 4 weeks if not more and their investments in such movies always resulted in big profits through ticket sales that often attracted black marketed tickets that they themselves will control .. not sure if current generation is aware of this but back then for popular movies, outside the cinema halls counter sale will open for 5 or 10 minutes and the counter will show a board "Sold". But out side the ticket counter you could buy tickets from people with a handkerchief tied to their neck and with one or two open buttoned shirts, shouting " balcony ka10 waala 25 men" " stall Ka 5 waala 10 men" and so on. People would be happy even if they got at that price. For hit movies even cops would make a lot, either by snatching tickets from these agents or by the money offered by these black marketeers. First day, first show on the movies released usually on Fridays would command double that price at times, so movie watching on Friday 1st show was reserved for rich people or very keen enthusiasts only. 

In Betma, however, there were no permanent theatres. During the holiday season when schools were shut some men will set up a "Touring Talkies". These were like circuses of those days. On an empty patch of land when there is still time for sowing new crop they would the place on rent and cover all four sides using temporary tents with open roof and small opening for people to enter by showing their tickets to the gatekeeper. Inside the "hall" at the back there would be some 5 rows of 20 seats of folding chairs each and in the ground ahead till the screen some 200 people could sit on the leveled ground. Most people entered through the gates but some smart ones usually kids, would also sneak in crawling but when caught they faced canning by green freshly plucked sticks and were thrown out. Tickets were not priced like those in the cities and often times it would be for 50 Paise and Re 1.00 except for popular movies for which it would be double that amount. Since movie could run only when it got dark there would be only two shows and sometimes just one depending on the response from audience. There would be full house on the weekly bazaar (called haat) days and not so on regular weekdays. The publicity would be through posters put at various places as well as through a tanga moving around that was covered with posters and one or two people shouting over public address system. Usually the tanga would run through the village and sometimes also in the small nearby villages from where people came on weekly bazaar days for their household purchase including some vendors who came to sell their wares. Since it would be crowded on bazaar days with no place for tanga to go through, you may also find someone with a battery operated PAS or just a small "bhopu" (conical footlong equipment) made by an ironsmith shouting loudly. Usually with a small movie poster hanging over his neck. 

The screen would often be a clean white cloth and the 16 mm mobile "RCA/Photophone" projector that had option to run on battery would be the only hardware needed to project the movie. Since Betma was just electrified there was a provision for running the projector on electricity as well.

In the autumn of 1967 owners of Touring Talkies got lot of request for movie Sangam that was released three years back and had made headlines and ran in Indore ( some 14 miles away) nearly a year ago. The owner considered it but the rent was pretty steep and a lot required as deposit to be paid in advance to distributors. That could have given profits but it was also risky. So he came out with an idea and announced the date of Sangam with grand publicity. 

Come the evening with first show of Sangam in Betma and one could see the soaring crowd from at least a mile if not more. Tickets were three times the normal price i.e. Rs 1.50 and Rs 3.00 respectively for stall and balcony (as some would call it) and learning from city cinema goers the owner also resorted to black marketing to make a little more. Soon the show started at the sunset and people were so happy to see Raj Kapoor singing on screen the songs in the voice of playback hero Mohd Rafi but they could not identify Vyjayanthimala as female artist who was also singing on screen songs sung by Lata Mangeshkar. At interval the food hawkers outside also made a killing as they never saw such a crowd earlier. But the crowd was confused although they saw songs like "main ka karoon raam mujhko buddha mil gaya" and "ye mera prem patra padh kar". But something was amiss and they couldn't figure out what. 

Soon after the interval the most popular song " mere man ki ganga aur tere man ki jamna" came on the speakers but long before the song got over, Raj Kapoor was having some dialogue with the heroine. That was the time when cine-goers realised that they were taken for a ride and that they were fooled by showing some other movie also whenever the song time came Sangam songs were played making movie audio silent. Soon after that there were riots and stampede and spectators made a havoc, broke the chairs and tore off the tent and the screen. Such was a chaos that police was called to restore the situation. After pocketing substantial money from owner they shoo away the crowd. No one was given any refund. It was such a disaster that the Touring Talkies had to run away overnight and was never seen again in Betma.

What had happened was that owner got a "brilliant" brain wave when he saw the demand and instead of  Raj Kapoor - Vyjayanthimala colour movie SANGAM (1964) he hired Raj Kapoor-Rehana starrer SARGAM (a 1950 black and white movie) Raj Kapoor was a bigger star who was seen on the screen and people thought may be Vyjayanthimala looked different in the movie with the make-up. They enjoyed all the songs till interval although the sequencing was changed and the operator kept the most famous "mere man ki ganga.." for post interval.

This smartness ruined the Touring Talkies owner but still makes me laugh whenever I remember the incidence.

Child entrepreneur.

This must have been around the same time around 1966-67 when the Loban venture was encouraging and profit making. During Diwali time I observed people would be buying lots of things for household for the celebrations. Diwali was  and is indeed the biggest festival that we celebrate here in India and this has been such since time immemorial. So I am sure not just in 20th century but also in preceding time in 15th or 10th or 5th century or even before this was celebrated with the same fervour.. with gay and gaiety. 

Shops will be decked up with novelty that would be released by manufacturers to attract more and more customers and even when they had similar items at home just to tweak the design here and there to attract people into buying. Be it some utensils or glassware or decorative pieces or firecrackers or what you may have there. People also want to be well stocked for food items with spices and grains that they usually don't keep but for festivities they would be using them for making savories and sweets.

The weekly markets would be larger than the usual with more vendors and more items and noise levels will go multifold. In those days we used to enjoy such noise and often mimic it then or later and laugh. My father had taken a loan and bought a running flourmill from someone to add some extra income as it was hard for him to meet up with expenses of family of 7 (including our ageing grandfather, Baa). 

Baa was well respected in the village where he spent all his life and during his work life he was engaged in Holkar State service as Patwari, a revenue officer. This was a very important position as even today a revenue officer would have. He would know everyone who has some land, big or small and everyone would know him. Actually, more people would know him than he would know people. As Patwari he would have control over the land of several villages in the vicinity for any kind of transaction: sale, purchase, transfer etc. I am sure he commanded great respect being upright. He was also very kind and helpful to people extending moral as well as monetary support to poor and needy , especially farmers. That left him penniless after retirement. So we didn't have much to spend or got anything in inheritance but respect from people and his values. He had some small savings with which he had purchased a small piece of land but being a revenue office he thought it inappropriate to have it in his name and had given it to his younger brother hoping he would have it back when he retires ..that obviously didn't happen. He must have had little pension from the state that was perhaps sufficient for his own sustenance. 

He was happiest when my father opted for a transfer and managed to have a posting in Sanawda as a sole teacher of primary school near Betma. In those days inter-district transfers were very difficult and he had to request senior divisional education officers on compassionate grounds for a transfer. Even to reach out to such authorities was tough so I suppose he approached one of his uncles who was a headmaster in a school and a very respected teacher, a social worker and a homeopath doctor who studied homeopathy on his own and used to run a charitable clinic with his own money, outside school timings to serve people. He was very popular not just in his town Badnawar that was a tehsil of Dhar District, but also in and around Indore Division. For his teaching services he was also awarded a Rashtrapati Puraskaar (President's Medal) in the late sixties. We will talk later about him.

I think the amount was Rs 4000 for which my father purchased the flour mill with earning potential of Rs 200 per month after cutting all expenses including salary of one operator, electricity and Rs 10 per month rent of the place. It was a nice and open place from front and behind with a room size of some 20' X 40' and a platform of  20'x10' in front and some space at the back. On one side of the aata-chakki ( as flourmill are called) was Pehlwan Amarsingh's house that had some 10-12 milk giving buffaloes tied all the time except during the day and on the other was a shop cum residence of a barber. The road outside was also wide by village standards which can allow two bullock carts to pass at the same time. This place was between our home and the bus stand each about 300 meters away due to that there was lot of movement and even if there were no customers, you won't get bored sitting or just being there. This venture of my father was called "Tribandhu Flour Mill (three brothers' Aata Chakki)". There are more stories associated with this place that we will keep for later. 

For now, I observed during the weekly market that during the Diwali time other then the regular vendors some new vendors would also sprung up with "seasonal" items. One such item that came to my attention was the picture of Ma Laxmi flanked by ma Sarawati on one side and Lord Ganesh on the other. There were different sizes of pictures of the same deity. I also observed that everyone who came to the weekly market bought at least one new picture (paana) although they may be having an old one from the previous years. Some would be framed in fancy frames and some others loose. Majority of the pictures that for sold were loose printed on shiny papers of 4"x6" or 6"x8 and some 12"x15" as well. I quickly did some calculations and with some money left in my piggy bank I told a friend's father who used to go to Indore for his shop's stock replenishments to get me an assortment of ma laxmiji's printed pictures.. ( Laxmi ji ke paane). Having got them I first put a nice display on the chabootara /platform outside the Chakki but found that the off take was very low so the next week I made a mobile shop and made a cardboard display that I could carry in my small hands with some thread strings attached so that the "paane" don't get slipped.. I had to practice it hard and the week after, when the weekly market started buzzing with activities I started roaming through the place from one end to another it would be about 300 meters with several ( 2 or 3) rows in between. In about 3 to 4 hours I sold some 300+ pictures of various sizes. Overall a 15 day business would have rendered me a profit of Rs 30 or more. Rs 10 on each market days and Rs 10 or so on all other days. 

So I had diversified my business and with some innovation managed to remain in business for both Loban and Laxmi ji ke Panne for the next three years. In my last year in Betma I was in class 10th that used to be high school board exam so I gave up my business for other young and budding entrepreneurs.

Picture of one of those paanas that is still with us.

 

Early Entrepreneur.

Quoting Merriam Webster dictionary: Tazia is a replica of the tomb of Husain, the martyred grandson of Muhammad, that is carried in processions during the Shi'ite festival of Muharram. 

Muharram used to be a big festival for me as well. Being a born non-sectarian, that I continue to be, I have been celebrating all the festivals of any religion, as they come. As under 10 year old child, I knew the celebration part but not the history of it. I also used to wonder about the rigour with which those ahead of the procession would dance and inflict wounds upon themselves as part of the three day long festival (later learnt, it was mourning). The Mehdi ki Raat, the Katl ki Raat and the final day of Tazia processions. The first two I looked at carefully and understood much later during my final years of school. But at the onset of this story I used to be excited with the final day procession that would pass through Betma and finally all the fancy, well decorated tableau some having larger than life white horses would rest at Karbala and huge crowd would gather around to have a thorough look at them and also discuss amongst themselves and rank them, not sure if anyone would ask them to vote to decide which tableau was the best. The place will be filled with people of all religion not just Shi'a Muslims who would come from nearby villages on bullock carts, bicycles and also on foot ..men, women and children. Some in their burqas too. Although this was a festival of mourning it was this also a Mela and people would come to enjoy the day in the best of their clothes for the occasion. As a token, at the end of the day a small replica of Tazia would get immersed in the river flowing nearby (the same river that would have Damu's panwari a little further near it's banks). In a way there were similarity in excitement and celebrations to the Anant Chaudas for us kids.. in tableau, in vendors selling goodies in the noise around etc. etc. Children don't care why it is observed/celebrated they just need reason to feel happy.

Much later, even today I don't understand as to why some people want to disturb this happiness of children and some others. I now learnt that Muharram is a Shi'a festival who are different from Sunnis in their belief about who is/was true follower of Prophet Hazrat Mohammad. But back then they I hardly cared the reason for celebrations/ festivities.

I must have been 8 or 9 when I first noticed this festival and went out on my own to have fun in the Mela. Over there I saw that some people would buy a small packet that would fit into your palm, wrapped in some paper and put out all its content in front of a Tazia into a small pot with fire burning in it and there would be sudden change in aroma of the air, it would be full of lovely almost intoxicating fragrance. Through an enquiry I learnt that the stuff packed in those packet was called LOBAN ( a resin also called gum Benzoin) and it's a kind of material similar to guggal dhoop that enhances the fragrance once put to the holy fire that burns before the Tazia. Then I recollected that this is the same fragrance that you smell when some nomadic wandering fakirs with something in their hand, when they ask for alms they would put loban into the small fire they carry to fumigate surroundings with aroma. Loban is also used in incense sticks for wonderful fragrance and also has its use in aromatherapy. Further enquiries revealed that with  one kg of Loban resin you could make 200 packets and each packet gets sold for 5 paisa. Meaning you could collect Rs 10 if you sold 1Kg that otherwise would cost you Rs 5.00. The idea of making some profits for engrained into me and a few weeks before the next Muharram I bought 1kg of Loban and made 200 small packets wrapped in papers. Luckily no one at home noticed or objected since I used my "own" money and didn't ask for any help. 

Come the day and my excitement was at its peak, much more than precious years. I took a small home-stitched cotton shoulder bag and put all 200 packets carefully in it and started my entrepreneurial journey wearing a deep pocket knicker to keep the change and ensured it is not torn. At the Karbala ground the crowd had started gathering and people were offering loban to the small fire put in front of those tableaus. I began by shouting " Loban le lo, Loban le lo", 5 Paise ki pudia.. 5 Paise ki. " When people saw a young boy selling more quantity of Loban than other vendors they crowded around and within an hour or so, my stock vanished after shifting my place from one Tazia to another when I saw the crowd thinning around.

I was very happy with my venture and was on the top of the world having collected Rs 10.00 of which I made a profit of Rs 5.00.