"Please Sir, I want some more"

I have never been interested in reading classics and pure literature and tend to enjoy fictions and thrillers. As a student, I hated memorizing lines from Shakespeare and from great works of Charles Dickens which were part of the curriculum. But Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens was an exception. I enjoyed the story and not having a great memory for quotes, the line "Please Sir, I want some more" by Oliver, the orphan asking for more gruel is still etched in my memory. It was a touching line in the novel and somehow has stayed with me all these years and recently had a profound impact in my personal life.

I underwent a surgery last month and was asked to be on liquid diet for three days prior to the surgery. Never the type to observe fasting even for ritual sake, I found this to be a tough task. I was tempted to give up and start on my routine diet several times before the surgery. But the strict instruction from the surgeon held me back. Once the surgery was over, the first thought after the anaesthetic effect wore out was that I could go back to my normal diet. But the doctor felt that I needed to be on drips for couple of days before resuming normal diet. My mind was quickly calculating the number of days I have been starved of solid food. Almost five days........that was just too much. I was even ready to walk and jump just to show the doctor how fit I was to resume normal diet. My craving for rice and hot rasam was increasing by the hour. I realized that I could never be one of those women who can go on stringent diets, with no rice, no solid food for days together just to stay slim. I would rather look my plump self and have my regular diet of dosas and sambars and chutneys than starve and look slim.

If I could not stay away from food even for a valid reason, I was wondering how kids and adults alike in countries like Somalia must be craving for food. It also makes me feel ashamed that we are wasting tons of food that is being prepared in excess in marriages and social functions and how  many times we throw away food even at home.

If I felt like begging like Oliver just for couple of days , how many millions in this world are asking for more every day. This surgery has been an eye opener for me at least in terms of experiencing what hunger for food is. I have promised myself to take that extra step to provide something to eat for at least one starved soul other than my kith and kin.

Driving (S)kill?

Every woman who knows driving would vouch that its a liberating feeling to drive your own vehicle and being mobile without depending on anybody else gives a terrific high. I was super excited about learning driving, although a bit late in my life. When hubby dearest gave the green signal for me to go ahead and pay a huge sum to the driving school to learn driving (for which the permission was not granted when we got our first car twenty four years back), I did it within minutes before he could change his mind. To start with, my learner's license test went so smoothly and I was impressed with the perfect arrangements at the RTO for the same. I, in fact, scored perfectly in the written test and felt as though I had topped the board exams. The classes were a breeze and I drove beautifully (nobody from the near and dear circle has seen me drive, so why not use the superlative?). Despite constant threats from friends about the fear of traffic, age factor etc etc . after two more months of extra practice in our own car (contributing to high blood pressure to our driver), I was ready to face the driving test at the RTO again.
On the day of the test, I was not at all nervous and I was sure that the test inspector would be floored by my driving skills . My appointment for the test was at 1 pm and it turned out to be the hottest summer day so far in Mumbai this year. Though I expected the Indian punctuality of 2pm instead of the allotted 1pm timing, it was further pushed to 3 pm. With not a patch of shade in an open ground (yes, an open ground which is a luxury in a city like Mumbai), in sweltering heat, with no drinking water or sanitation facilities, the two hours wait for my turn for the test (among 70 other candidates)slowly turned into a daymare(antonym of nightmare). Finally when I actually took the test, I was made to drive an old santro (instead of a brand new Honda city car in which I had practiced) in which the gears were tattering and I could hardly sense which gear I was applying and to top this torture, the inspector constantly was giving instructions in Marathi language which was as alien as Greek and Latin to me and the driving strip so bumpy that it was literally like driving the car on rocky mountains which is shown to be glamorous in ads but actually is back breaking. Just two minutes into the test, I was asked to stop and get down. I was stunned, I was disappointed that I was not allowed to show my skills in taking turns and smoothly moving on to fourth gear and fifth gear and show my driving skills on  a traffic less , smooth highway.
Every single candidate was allowed to test drive for less than two minutes on this bumpy patch and decided were good enough to get a license. When I asked my driving school instructor whether I would get a license since I was not tested for my responses to traffic signals or for my skills in maneuvering the vehicle through a stream of traffic. The driving school instructor casually said that he would make sure that I get my license within couple of weeks as I was good enough in starting the engine and moving ahead.Wow what standards are set for getting license in a big city like Mumbai. Are they issuing this license to drive or is it a license to kill? I am still wondering and realize that its a actually a smooth ride (unlike the actual one) to get a license here than in any other country. All you need to know is how to start the vehicle, that's it!