Passwords (Farcewords) Challenged

As a child, my association with the word, “Password” was defined while racing through the pages of an exciting  Enid Blyton thriller featuring the Secret Sevens. It was a device which  the Hindi movie gangster of old used to utter in a deep, guttural tone  to establish his credentials  in the world of crime. And of course, who has not heard of “ Open Sesame”, the famous password used by Alibaba’s men to enter the wonder cave. Rarely did we come across the word elsewhere.

In today’s world, right from logging in, Password usage is the gateway  to  access some online sites, banking and  e-commerce. The moment, you open a site, a window pops up asking you to register with a Password. Easier said than done, for this requires you to think and key in, smoothly and swiftly.   

When I am in front of my computer,I must confess that I turn into a bundle of nerves, the moment an instruction to create a password flashes on my computer screen. My mind goes blank, as it used to do while writing a difficult math exam in school, long back. I become more nervous even as I realize I must think and type fast to avoid getting logged out. I just type in the first word that comes to my mind when the screen interface gently reminds me that the password has got to be alpha numeric and contain eight characters. By now, I am tense as a coiled spring, for fear that I may get it wrong again. Sheer luck, it  is accepted and I wait in victorious triumph for the site to open. But  nothing happens and I am not able to access the site, after going through the entire gamut of operations. I fret and fume.

I then proceed to a netbanking site, where I key in the password. As the next window opens, I stare with foreboding at  the prompter which glumly announces that the password typed is invalid and I should log in again. It further goes on to grimly remind that I would be allowed only two retrys to login, and in case of a failed login attempt, the site would be be locked as a security measure. I wring my hands in despair.

Next comes the change of password business, where I first have to key in the old password and the new password twice. As the encrypted password appears on the screen, my focus momentarily falters and I am confused as to how many characters of the password have been typed in. I look at the  screen for a clue, but dots on the space for password stare unblinkingly back at me. As I fumble,  I am told that I have been  automatically logged out for security reasons!  I am very sweetly reminded that  I would be allowed one more attempt to change the password, failing which the site would be locked!  Of course I could contact the Telebanking centre of the bank, always at the customer’s service for unlocking the site!

  Oops! I  just realized that I do not remember where I have noted the different passwords  for my railway and bus reservation sites!  Then and there, I decided that the Passwords were not my cup of tea. As for me, I am happy doing my shopping myself at the nearest super-market or   carrying my passbook for entries to my bank.

The Great Shopping Tamasha

Shopping to the hilt!

Among my relations, I have a Chitappa who is affectionately ‘called in family circles “the weekend offer Chitappa” because he reserves all his purchases for the week-end when supermarkets and big names in retail vie in offering freebies and discounts. He is upto date on schemes of various super markets to the extent that even if one had to step out to buy a packet of rice, he would start off by saying, “why are you going now? “You should go at 3.00 PM on a Saturday to the supermarket back office where you will get a kilo of Basmati rice for as little as Rs. 50”. With marketing guys in a perpetual race to grab heftier market shares,bargains and offers deals and combo -offers from super, hypermarkets are bombarding us all the time and for folks like Uncle, it’s double whammy all the time. When Uncle visited Delhi, he loved nothing better than to explore the by-lanes of Ajmal Khan Road, in search of the best bargain in the Delhi-specific unorganized electrical/ electronic items market. Nothing was healthier, heartening to the soul than a cheery, “Sardarji, Kee Gaal”’ get down to business and wind up the bargain with a satisfactory hammering down of the price of a mixer from its quoted price of 1000 bucks to 500 bucks.
    

It was in the presence of this uncle that  my mom decided to sell old Newspapers to the street vendor. No sooner did she mention her intentions, than Uncle  said, “Forget this chap. Let’s go to Hyper mart, where you can sell not only old newspapers  but also old discarded household items of every conceivable kind ranging from clothing to kitchen utensils,from decades-old toasters and irons to downgraded electronic waste of recent origin for better value”. So that is how, Mom loaded all her sundry items into her Maruti van and headed for Hyper -mart  with uncle beside her.  The Sales girl patiently sorted mum’s things, valued them and handed over a packet of coupons to Mom. “What’s this?” said a surprised Mom. “Ma’am, this is our latest offer,” beamed the Sales girl. “Earlier, you could exchange your old,even damaged household for  articles of the same type from Megamart at a lower price. Now, we have gone a step further to give our customers a better deal. We issue coupons which they can exchange to buy articles of their choice at the discount rate mentioned in the coupon. I have issued coupons of a face value of Rs.5000/- which you can use  up entirely if you make purchases  with us. Imagine,you will be getting goods worth  Rs.9000/- by just spending Rs. 5000/- VALUE SHOPPING FOR  OUR VALUABLE CUSTOMERS  is our motto. Mom’s head was in a whirl. This was indeed a Catch 22 situation-instead of getting hard bucks for her old things, here she was saddled with discount coupons  and she had to think up ways and means to  utilize them. How on earth was she going to figure out what did she need  to buy ? Besides the offer was time-bound. “ Don’t worry”,  said Uncle. “ We can use up the coupons in no time. A household needs so many things- from bread to bedsheets,tooth-paste to touristers- an entire gamut of consumables and consumer products. Also you can pass on these coupons to your friends and relatives if you can’t use them within the OFFER period.It’s the  Steal of a Lifetime, whichever way, you look at it!” and he rubbed his hands in glee.

  

How Mom worked her way through the coupons is another story. At the end of their last visit to Megamart, Uncle wandered off to the marketing office, after excusing himself. ““Now what?” wondered a weary Mom. After a long wait, Uncle returned all in smiles. “All those who have used up their Coupons entirely get freebies like Free Mobile Talktime. I went over to collect freebies coming our way”, said Uncle on his way to the exit.

   

Just then a Mall executive waylaid them.  “ Excuse me”, he said.  I think you are Coupon Holders. Today, being the last day for using up coupons, Megamart celebrates tomorrow as  Grand Coupon Completion Day herein  the store will honour all those  customers who successfully used up their coupons. Additionally, there is also a Super Duper  Loyalty Award to these loyal customers-  tomorrow we will reissue fresh coupon to them for free. They don’t have to bring their old things. Don’t miss this Opportunity to shop to your heart’s content”, and he went on and on. Uncle listened, as if spell-bound. “Tomorrow, we should make it here’, he said turning in  Mom’s direction.

     Mom was not there! Anybody listening?

When I became Jane Austen

Do we have the time to do the things that we want to do? Pursue a hobby of our interest,let the creative juices flow, do a sudoku......the list of stress busters is endless. We are always being told of the things that we ought to do to keep us going, to keep our mental clock ticking in order to lead a happier and healthier life.

For each of us, the mode of relaxation is different. Jamshedji Tata,  the iconic businessman flew planes; that was his passion which helped him to relax but for ordinary home-makers like  you and me, it could be sketching, painting, stitching or even writing. Writing, they say expands the mental horizons, the emotional make-up of a person and above all gives one an intellectual high. But any hobby can be stimulating only if it is nurtured and sustained, for which a high level of commitment is necessary. One has to take time out of the daily grind to sustain a hobby. Herein lies the problem.The whirlpool of endless household chores can suck many a budding talent in a homemaker into its relentless currents. In India especially, the social demands on a woman within and without the family set-up are quite taxing-it’s a tight-rope walk between home-maker and careerist. How many times have I heard the familiar wail, “I  used to play the veena quite well. But after marriage and children, it all went up in smoke”.

Many  have however, managed to  successfully span the wide chasm between the daily grind and hobby; between  what needs to be done to keep the wheel of life’s routine rotating and what we would like to do for emotional gratification. Here again the family’s concurrence(read as co-operation from husband) is absolutely essential.

I have been fortunate in that my husband has been supportive of my interest in writing. “You should write more and consistently” is his refrain, to which my perennial lament is “I wish I had the time and energy to do that”. To which, he looked at me pityingly and said, “Nobody gets time, you have to make time”.  After initially bristling at his remark, I started thinking seriously about what he had said.  Maybe there was something to what he had said. All the scary health columns that I had been reading like,  “Do something creative in order to stimulate brain activity.Research findings have proved that brain exercises like doing sudoku,learning a new activity, writing or even reading poetry etc. will ward off  early onset of senility, Alzheimers’........... you get the drift, I suppose.

So how was I going to save my “grey cells”  at least in the interests of my own health? “ You spend too much time in the kitchen, it drains you. You should get a cook ”, declared a friend. “Easier said than done,”I thought. Could I relinquish with a single stroke, “ my time- honoured, careful and considerate duties in the kitchen to the hands of an outsider”. I was torn between familial bonds and my own creative needs. Then one day, a friend who runs a paper called up to ask why I had not written a piece for her for so long, accusing me of burying my interest and not writing enough. Find the time to write”, she urged. The demons of senility and Alzeihmer floated before my inward eye  and I realized that something had to be done about this and that too rather urgently.

I managed to find a  kitchen help with great difficulty. I would not call her by the lofty title  of “cook", because she was sent with references of “an amicable assistant always willing to  learn”. Not a great resource  but I hoped to train her to take over my kitchen so that I could focus on more “ fulfilling ” activities.  After  instructing her about the day’s menu, I  made  an effort to collect together my creative thoughts. “ Now for some crisp writing ”, I would think and just as I  manage to collect together my thoughts,  Mrs. AA (Amicable Assistant, if you please) put her head round the door and asked, “ Amma, you did not say whether I should use dal or coconut in the Sambhar!” I would sort out the issue to return to my literary pursuits only to be interrupted by another silly query from Mrs. AA, “ Amma,  should I use pepper or chillies in the rasam”.  

Then one day, my husband complained that the Sambhar tasted funny.” “ Oh no”, he hastened to add.” Don’t start interfering in her work, for heaven’s sake. Anyway, you take too long in the kitchen over a sambhar and rice.We got to use her, after getting her with so much difficulty.In finance, we call it captilization of an asset”. With that, he valiantly swallowed the watery sambhar and leathery chappathis. 

So that was that. Mrs. AA’s ill-health continued indefinitely. I soon realized that she had no intention of coming back. Nor did I have any regrets. My literary visions had  curled up like a wisp of smoke to vanish into thin air, much like Mrs.AA. In the process, I had landed on Terra firma, with a BIG BANG. My literary dreams could wait for the time being but the family could not. I belonged to a generation that had dreams and the courage to pursue them but what about all the women before me who,

 only knew to slog and slave,

grind and grate ,roast and bast over a hot kitchen fire,

wiping away beads of perspiration in a sweltering, airless kitchen, hot and humid to churn out mouthwatering delicacies

all devoured in no time.

The kitchen was their home, 

the family their world; they knew none else.

their love boundless, their service endless.

The fragrance of  burnt incense 

hung over the family unit,

cosy and content, happy and healthy.

Hail O woman of Yester Year 

Whose dreams were not bigger than family and society.