Let us not burden our parents further

O

ur parents, who slog to bring us up, heave a sigh of relief, the moment they see us well settled. They want to lead a relaxed life thenceforth. But they never know that the days they looked forward to are short-lived.

     The birds that fly off the nest for greener pastures, return with their offsprings. As the child does not seem to adjust to the caretaker or crèche atmosphere, “the bundle of joy” is inadvertently transferred to grandparents.

     The working youngsters do not realize or sometimes ignore the fact that the parents are ageing. With their energy beginning to ebb, the old people find it very difficult to look after the tiny brats full time.

Nani turns nanny

     I have seen many aged parents who just could not turn down the request/requirement of their working children. In the process the old parents are again pushed back to the daily grind. The hassle-free life they dreamt of appears to be nothing but a mirage.

     Though, having grandparents in a family is a welcome thought, they should not be reduced to the role of a babysitter. The naani should not become a nanny. There should at least be a caretaker for the child, supervised by grandparents.

     Despite the fear of sounding a little regressive in my thought, I sincerely feel that in such circumstances, either of the parents should take a sabbatical from their demanding job or look for a part time/work-from-home proposition.

      Let us repay our beloved parents by providing a life that is due to them in the dusk of their life.  Let them greet us with a congenial smile when we return home but not with a haggard look. 

(Published in Mumbai edition of DNA on Sept 16, 2010)

For a change: Ravan has the last laugh

R

ecently I watched a Hindi play Ravanleela at Matunga in Mumbai.  Yatri presented the play directed by Om Katare. Dr Kusum Kumar has written the play.

     This is about Ramleela, performed by a group of countryside artistes at a rural area. The Ramleela goes wrong in whatever way it could, ultimately Ravan gaining an upper hand over Ram. Hence it is Ravanleela. And the escapades in the process leave you in splits.   

     The play that has the plot of Ramleela, begins with the story of Ravan. The crowd is agitated over the delay in the commencement of Ramleela.  The manager has to bore the brunt of their angst as he has to manage with a bunch of untrained and unenthusiastic actors put together for the annual ritual called Ramleela.  For the rustic actors Ramleela is just like any other ritual more than performance.

      Lack of coordination between the Ramleela actors and the background score and the quirky behaviour of the artistes evoke peels of laughter.  Their professional equations at times turn personal on and off stage.

      Persuading the now on now off Kartar Singh to act out Ravan is indeed a tough task for the manager and the other actors. Weighed down by a personal peeve of a leaking roof of his home, he asks for a hike in remuneration, which, the manager feels unreasonable.

     Ultimately Ravan turns to be a “show stopper” by refusing to die at the end unless he was paid more. The audience simmers with anger.  Once the helpless manager gives in to his demand, Ravan not even waits for Ram’s arrow, he stabs himself with his sword.

      But for Vibheeshan, all the cast was good.  Vibheeshan lacked spontaneity.  Audience just loved Ravan, not because he was Ravan, but he was Kartar Singh. Kartar Singh’s easy transformation from a much-worried amateur artiste to a hilarious Ravan within no time is commendable.

       Taking a dig at the hype over culture, a worried Kartar says no culture is superior to the culture of earning one’s daily bread.  Nothing precedes the culture of two square meals a day.  That draws home the point.