The Only Constant

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” 
- Lao Tzu

Last month, after celebrating my son Adithya’s birthday with a boisterous bunch of fifteen of his friends, we were terribly exhausted. A dinner table discussion that followed amongst three families revolved around the changes that have taken place over the years in our daily lives. And the birthday was the starting point.

Most of the middle class families in the eighties, especially in small towns and rural areas almost never had birthday celebrations. I remember my mother or father saying to me, ‘Oh! You are twelve now’ or ‘tomorrow is your birthday’. That’s it. No cake, no wishes, no gifts, no party. A mom-made delicacy of our choice was the only deviation from the routine. I don’t think we were disappointed by the absolute lack of festivity or fanfare. We had never seen any birthday parties then. So, nothing to compare with and crib. Ignorance is always bliss.

Now the times are different and so are the societal ways and habits. Today, here in Bengaluru, my children attend the birthday parties of their friends and so it is quite natural for them to expect to have their own! Cakes, sweets, presents, return gifts (I discovered this phenomenon recently!), music, a bit of shouting and a ransacked house. I don’t see anything wrong with this, especially when the group is confined to kids. Of course, it is a bit tiresome job-arranging the parties-but it’s okay. I do not wish to pontificate to my kids about 'I never celebrated birthdays, so why should you?', kind of stuff.  Even though it is an overused cliché, change is the essence of life.

When I joined the service, I remember a senior officer giving me a long sermon about how he used to ride a bicycle as a range forest officer in the early seventies. He went on and on about his exploits as an officer ending with the criticism of present crop of foresters who ask for vehicles as soon as they join the department! Thirty years is a long time and I graduated to a motorbike during my range officer days. Today, the trainee foresters are usually provided with Gypsies or Boleros. Should I envy my younger colleagues? Swift mobility is critical for efficiency.

Thanks to mobiles and internet, we are now inundated with forwarded emails, smses and whatsapp messages on the emotional tug of our childhood. Mostly on how different our younger days were in comparison with the present generation’s. Jagjit Singh made us collectively sigh with nostalgia listening to his immortalized rendition of ‘woh kagaz ki kashti’. I have come across some wonderful quotes on how we (the older generation. C’mon, we are pushing forty!) enjoyed our evenings and holidays a few decades ago, maybe not uttering the word ‘bore’ even once, even though there were no mobiles, TV, computer, Xbox or tablets. Nowadays we do not see our kids playing hopscotch and lagori. Innumerable indoor games like ludo, snake and ladder and different versions of cowrie-based dice games have all but vanished from the lexicon of our children. Almost all city-bred kids possibly cannot recite a single rhyme in their mother tongue. Is this something to be worried about?

 Twenty years back I might have perhaps laughed if someone had told me that I would be paying money to eat jackfruit one day. Or shell out twenty rupees for a litre of drinking water. But that’s how things stand in the twenty first century. We buy and eat jamun, guava, ber, anjur and all other assortment of local fruits which were a part of the regular diet of school children not far too long ago. 

In our homes, electronic appliances have all but substituted hard labour. Washing clothes, baking, grinding and increasingly, floor mopping and dish washing have been taken over by the machines. A relative of mine who is very traditional and conservative used to criticize the use of gadgets at home. ‘If you don’t bend and work, how will you get physical exercise?’, was his irritated jibe towards his tech-adopting relatives. He detested the invasion of dining tables into our kitchens in the eighties. Within the next ten years, he had almost all those machines in his house. And yes, the dining table too. It is very convenient for the elderly, no?

Our diets have been altered considerably over the years. Oats, cornflakes, readymade wheat flour, canned food articles, pepsis and colas, innumerable bakery products etc. are a regular part of our meal. We see a mad rush in the sweet shops on the eve of festivals. Who has the time to roll laddus or bake halwas?

Life has gained pace over the years. People have new aspirations and ambitions. Education is becoming more eclectic and also competitive. Families have grown smaller. Women are increasingly becoming financially independent. Everything is 24 x 7. Time is at a premium. Changes are inevitable.

But all the sighing and shake of heads about ‘things have gone bad’ are firmly based on the assumption that things were wonderful in the (g)olden days. Or to take the argument further, that there was always a utopia before. Was it during the Maurya period or Ashoka’s rule or Gupta dynasty or Akbar’s regime? Or Vijayanagara empire? Does this hypothesis stand the test of closer scrutiny?

Bengaluru was heavenly once. It is in a shambles now. We can curse and despair or look at it as a bouquet of opportunities. Metro connectivity, increasing awareness among young voters, positive alternatives in our otherwise bleak political spectrum, talent pool of educated youth, local initiatives for a greener city. One day, this city could well be one of the most livable in the world.

Change is the biggest leveler of all, just like death, or the traffic of Bengaluru!

As long as change does not adversely affect human beings as individuals or as a society, does not threaten the basic fabric of our peaceful existence, there is perhaps no need to battle this force of nature.