Australia diaries..part 3

When my 10 yrs old grandson asked me how much do I earn then I could not reply in real terms of purchasing power of currency in their respective countries. The same question often my driver has asked about what would have been his salary in Australia.
Often I have heard parents in India boasting about how much  their off springs earning by converting dollar to rupees.
This has been the real issue,the value of money.
Coming back to my grandson I explained that when he goes for haircut he pays 10 dollars which in Indian rupees would be 500, remember it is the cheapest cut by Chinese hair dressers here in Australia. Whereas I get my haircut done at 50 rupees in Kolkata, the shop where for the last 25 yrs I have been going.
The other day we had a plate of aloo chat at 10 dollars or for 500 rupees here in Australia which in India would have costed me about 60 or so.
If you want to engage a driver for your car in Australia then you may have to pay anything between 30 to 50 dollllar an hour,so no wonder one drives his own car even in their old age. There are some old scoots here who are adventurous enough to divorce their old wives and marrying younger Filipinoes who not only give them company but also drive them around. As far as I am concerned I don't drive car any more,last time I drove was in 2000,my driver's license expired in2009 so for going long distance we are dependent on our son or daughter in law,of course sometime get picked up by DrTan,Keith, Tiare,Sharon etc.
Getting any work done by others one has to pay that 50 dollar or so per hour. So better do the cooking, house cleaning,dish washing,lawn mowing etc yourselves. Again I am unfit in this manual work department,back home we have masis for cleaning, washing etc and of course Gopal drives me around, it's company's car,I sold of my car in 2000,I don't own any car now. Whenever I am in Delhi I use battery rickshaw to move around of course mostly I walk.
I remember first time while I was playing golf here after tee off I started walking off when Amer my son's friend who was playing with us shouted at me," Baba,you left your golf trolley!" I turned back and started dragging my trolley,back home in Kolkata my golf bag is carried by my caddy who even locates my golf ball. While we were playing tennis here we had to pick our balls,no picker like what we have in Tolly Club.
In short it's do it yourself to survive with the salary what you get. Any service cost money.
So I really could not fully explain my grandson the purchase power of currency in respective countries. The services in US is comparatively cheaper than Australia because of parallel economy run my illegal immigrants mostly from Mexico.
In Kolkata where I stay there mostly NRIs stay,after retirement mostly have come back for this reason,here they get cheaper medical,driver,masis and the works.

Patriot duty

Patriot duty

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I was wrong in assuming that after doing compulsory NCC during IIT days there would be no more regimental training, but a surprise was waiting for me in Indian Oil, Guwahati Refinery where I joined as Engineer Trainee in 1965.

It was the time when skirmishes with Pakistan in Kashmir border escalated to a full scale 17 days war in September, 1965. The management was instructed to tighten security in the township and the refinery because the East Pakistan border was very close by, Bangladesh was yet to form.

One night while we were in the officers club heard air raid siren blowing and all the lights were switched off . Pak planes on reconnaissance were  flying over our refinery and Indian antiaircraft guns located on two hillocks by the side of refinery started firing at those. Heavy armored vehicles, tanks  and trucks carrying soldiers moving was a common sight those days. Next to refinery was the Narangi military camp and so the movement. The situation was tense in and around the refinery; trenches were dug in the refinery and  the township. Every day we had to undergo civil defense drill of diving in the trenches whenever siren was blown, yes air raid sirens were put at strategic locations in the refinery, township and the market place.

All the trainees were selected to undergo training for home guard. So NCC like training by the army personnel started for us. It was regular workout, march past and finally rifle shooting in the army range. We were pressed in duty of guarding the township during the night.  We would work in the refinery in the day  and guard the township in the night.  Mr. Chowdhury was a confirmed bachelor; he offered his flat to be our night camp. At any given time as per regulation two of us would be moving together. A danda and a torch were our tools to defend. I guess at that time of history those were sufficient to handle any suspicious movement, Pathankot type attack was unheard of.

Nothing exceptional happened during that one month of guard duty excepting for one night.

I and my friend Mitra were walking towards the market from our sector 2 township on that fateful night; we had to cross a jungle. We heard some suspicious sound from the shrub, we got ready with our danda .

“Yes, there is movement.” Mitra said.

“Watch there are two shinning things in the shrub.” I said.

It was a moonless night, we debated whether we should further investigate by going around the shrub.

Both mustered enough courage to move further in, there was distinct sound of movement in the shrub.

“Come out, whoever is there!” We shouted.

No response….we cautiously walked deeper in the shrub with baited breath, it was dark and two shinning eyes stared back at us.

We spread the shrub, walked forward, to our amusement and relief found an innocent cow looking back at us.

We shared our that experience with our comrades and soon it became folklore of the refinery. The ceasefire was declared in September, 1965 and a peace treaty known as Tashkent Declaration was signed by the initiative of USA and Soviet Russia in January, 1966.

Our war time special duty ended without any other major incident.

 

Copycat

Copycat, We Are All Aping USA

Our clothes, our language, our movies and our music- our way of life –are more powerful than our bombs wrote American writer/ journalist William Broyles. Yes that’s right not only we but throughout the world every one is trying to copy USA in every respect of life.

You come across American sounding avenues in Gurgaon; our own Bollywood is rampantly lifting from Hollywood movies. Ash Bhonsle in one of her interviews said that R D was so fond of English music and we know why. I don’t want to discuss about likes of Pritam or Anu Mallik. At least R D gave some lilting original tunes like the ones in Love Story, 42.

Our TV channels are looking towards America for inspiration the refined word for lifting. Be it “American Idol” or “Are you smarter than a 5th grader”.

Even news reporting format are those of CNN.

The other day I read in news paper that it was revealed that more and more research scholars in India are copy pasting the research work of American researchers…thanks to internet.
A pair of jeans has become a favoured outfit for guys and dolls, thanx uncle sam for that.

At the same time we are claiming the end of white rule, certainly through copy pasting route you can reach the mass production level as China is doing but intellectually you are a slave to those original thinkers or the creators.

During my  visit to China I noticed the presence of those American iconic out lets like Wal-Mart, Mac Donald, KFC etc. The young generation there is on black dress behave like westerner. The English songs are played in hotel lobbies. In 1998 when I visited Tokyothen one of Japanese business associates informed me that among the Asians it seems Japanese are more like Americans.

Left may shout hoarse in condemning anything to do with USA but we are already invaded and captured in every sphere of our life. If Dollar sneezes our Rupee tumbles.

We have not arrived; we slowly got sucked in what is loosely termed as western culture which is in reality American culture. We have followed the policy of “If you can’t lick them then join them.”