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VOOZH | about |
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VOOZH | about |
‘My birthday made me my parents’ favourite’
Chitra Jain, Doctor
Soon after Ramkali Dewan, heavy with the fifth of her ninth children, was wheeled into the missionary hospital at Palwal in Haryana, she went into labour. But the nurses didn’t seem to notice. They were standing huddled, talking of how their families had travelled to Delhi to watch Pandit Nehru unfurl the tricolour, how they should have been there too. When Ramkali couldn’t take the pain any longer, she yelled out for the doctor and the nurses came scampering too. Later, the nurses were suspended for ‘neglecting their duties’. ‘‘That’s all my mother remembers of that day on August 15, 1947. She was in labour and her thoughts were only for me,’’ says Chitra Jain, chief medical officer at the MCD allopathic dispensary in Chandni Chowk.
Sitting in her consulting room in a rundown wing of the MCD Town Hall, Jain smiles as she lets in on her little secret: ‘‘It’s probably because I was born on August 15, 1947 that I ended up as my parents’ favourite child. Or it was probably because I was quiet and obedient.’’
And so the ‘‘obedient child’’ went on to become a doctor, breaking a few glass ceilings along the way? ‘‘Hardly,’’ says Jain, ‘‘My father, Captain O.S. Dewan, was a doctor with the British Army and five of my brothers and a sister are also doctors. So it was almost taken for granted that I would take up medicine too. Now both my children and my son-in-law and daughter-in-law are also doctors.’’
—Uma Vishnu
‘I am lucky to be part of India’s journey’
G H Kusram, Railway Employee
Vadodara
Goma Kusram has been with the railways for so long—his father was an engine driver— that he sees the country as a stately locomotive that is chugging into its 60th year. ‘‘I am lucky to be part of India’s journey —from the days it tottered on steam engines to the present, when it is whizzing past on super fast trains.’’
Kusram calls himself an ‘‘eternal optimist’’. It was this optimism that saw him through a near-fatal accident during the Kutch earthquake of 2001—his leg had to be amputated— and it is this optimism that he sees for the country. Kusram lost his right leg when a water wagon he was supervising—the wagons were being rushed to an earthquake-hit site at Gandhidham in Kutch— went over his right foot.
Kusram, born in Nagpur the day independent India came into being, joined the railways as an apprentice train examiner. He retires on August 31 as a senior section engineer at the wagon yard in Vadodara. The railways has changed ‘‘drastically’’ since the days he joined service— ‘‘the frequent engine failures and accidents of the 80s are now, thankfully, rare. Life was difficult but the country has progressed slowly and steadily.’’
—Yashpal Parmar
‘Talented youngsters are leaving the country’
Kanaiyalal Amratlal Patel, Engineer
During his growing up years in Ahmedabad, Kanaiyalal Amratlal Patel was fired with dreams that inspired a newly independent India. As a youngster, he studied under a street lamp, determined to become a part of developing India. ‘‘Now,’’ he says, ‘‘talented youngsters leave India in search of a better life. India should be able to provide them all that here.’’
After studying engineering, Patel joined the Department of Telecom. ‘‘Thirty years ago, people did not have to bribe their way through every government office. But now corruption is everywhere,’’ says Patel, now posted as a sub-divisional officer at Navrangpura exchange in Ahmedabad.
As a child, Patel was influenced by the Gandhian ideology of his father. His father, who went to watch the fireworks at Kankaria on the eve of Independence, often told him of the twin celebrations in the household on the night of his birth. But what he remembers of Old India are the strong ties, of days spent studying under trees in Hajipur garden with friends. ‘‘Those days, people were closer to each other,’’ says Patel.
—Pulkit Vasudha
‘I am proud of what women have achieved’
Madhavi Dandekar, Social Activist
Madhavi Dandeker grew up proud about her date of birth. It was this pride, she says, that probably inspired her to take up causes and speak out for the sake of the country. ‘‘I realised that there is no point criticising our politicians,’’ says Dandekar, ‘‘I try to do my bit for society.’’
India, she says, has its own paradoxes. ‘‘I am proud of what our women have achieved,’’ she says, ‘‘but when you look at the condition of women in rural areas, you know how much more needs to be done.’’ She believes that if our country has to progress, the state of education needs to be looked at urgently.
—Ritika Jain
‘I think we have done well for ourselves’
Bharati Saha, Homemaker
Mumbai
Early on August 15, the Doshi family sat in the courtyard of their home in Indapur village of Pune, anxiously waiting for the midwife to break the news. And inside, much before she went into labour, Pushpa Shantilal Doshi knew what she would name her child: Bharat if it were a boy and Bharati for a girl—it was Independence Day and the spirit was too heady for Pushpa to ignore. Minutes later, Bharati was born.
Bharati’s mother died when she was two and it was her maternal uncle Ganpatdas who explained the significance of her date of birth. Bharati has found herself unwittingly drawn into drawing room discussions on the country’s progress, its present state of affairs and so on. ‘‘It’s almost as if I was taking stock of my life. There are so many political parties these days that it gets confusing,’’ says Saha. ‘‘And they all want different things for themselves, not what the nation wants as a whole.’’
Her final word: ‘‘I think we—the country and I—have done well for ourselves.’’
—Ritika Jain
‘Women are now on their own’
Anima Bhattacharya, Telephone Operator
When Anima Bhattacharya joined Calcutta Telephones in 1968, there were very few working women. ‘‘Only Anglo-Indian women worked with us then. Girls were never encouraged to go out and work. But today, women have become financially independent,’’ says Bhattacharya. Working as a telephone operator in those days meant looking up voluminous books with telephone numbers and contact addresses each time someone phoned in with a query. ‘‘But all that changed in 1992 with records becoming computerised. Now everything is available at the click of a button,’’ she says.
When Bhattacharya started working, her salary was
Rs 232 and the bus fare as little as 10 paise. ‘‘Though salaries have gone up since then, the rise in prices has been steeper,’’ says Bhattacharya, now a supervising telephone operator.
August 15 has always been special for Bhattacharya. ‘‘It was an auspicious date to be born on, though others around me seem more thrilled than me,’’’ she says.
This year she is more emotional on her birthday though—her 60th birthday will also bring in her retirement. But she’s ready with a retirement plan. ‘‘I want to teach underprivileged children,’’ says Bhattacharya.
—Aveek Datta