Yes, this is the term I have coined for
the people born in early 80s and still stuck there in their heads, and I am proud to confess I am one of them. But please do not think I
am merely referring to the “only Doordarshan Age”, or
before the “Liberalized Economy” days. This is not going to be
just a treatise on nostalgia out poured but I wish to write on the
psychological side of it.
I am 29 ( a little happy and more sad
about it ), and I read Chacha Chowdhury and the other Pran Gang
members ( Billu , Pinki mostly). It was after I had collected more
than 10 fat ones of these in the past one year, that I thought about
it as to why I am suddenly doing it after so many years of reading Entrance Exam books, Question Banks, Newspaper Editorials(Ohh the
horror !!!), the (pseudo)intellectual volumes based on the “Indian
context” , having love, sex, lot of big sentences uttered while
having sex, religion and what not . But I guess I can put up a few
reasons here.
1. The world still seems fathomable
: Yes. To me this struck as the
biggest and the most important one. If you will ever care to look
again at the drawings and illustrations in these cartoons, they have
a certain flavor of bringing to you a city, a neighborhood with
which one can relate to. The buildings shown, the shops, the streets,
the houses all remind you of something which has always been a part of your growing up.
There is shown a world where unlike “bigger the better”, small
and cozy is the everpresent theme. May be it is just a personal take, so
dont contend because i am not stating a theorem. For me it has to do
with the fact that my childhood was spent in such a middle class
small neighborhood where right from the milkman to the breadwala to
the juicewala, and the tikkiwala, everything seemed to carry a sense
of a mundaneness and familiarity surrounded with which you feel
happy and can resonate with the same. In short, no element of
surprise and none needed.( Thrill will kill).
2. The People : This
is the second element which one can put up to comparison with the way
we relate to each other now. The people in these comics are very much
in connect with each other, be it in the on goings of their daily
lives or be it in sharing the moments of happiness and sorrow. They
all relate in a very close and tight bonded community. They share
their morning newspapers, they share their vehicles, children small
or teenagers spend time together, boundary walls stand witness to
housewife gossips, men chatter on cricket heroes and office schedules
and a lot more. Not just this, but the festivals are for everyone,
Rahman plays Holi, Ashfaq buys Diwali crackers sold by Haneef, Raman
goes to eat siwai to Asif's house during Eid and other instances
which exemplify a life much simpler and totally aloof and untouched
by the concerns howled over and over again by the “intellectuals “
present nowadays almost everywhere.
Now
coming to the psychological part of it , I will take things on a
personal level. Being a typical case of this “ Chacha Chowdhury
Generation “ effect, I feel I haven't allowed myself, or more
precisely my perspective and my mannerisms to evolve and mature
enough to suit to the times .
And
this has cost me rather heavily.
Being
accustomed to a small town, less crowded life, I find myself time and
again, incapable to adapt to
the rush and chase of a city clamor. I don't know whether it is safe
and decent enough to stand 6 inches close to a girl in a crowded bus
or better to move back and smell the sweaty armpits of
the College dude behind.
At
big restaurants, some which I was fortunate to visit , (thanks to my
urban desi friends), it became a problem for me sometimes to decide
as to how I was supposed to use my napkin( before the finger bowl or
after it), or how to correctly tip the waiter(sign on the receipt or
leave some cash in the register) . Not that it was a big problem, but
what i feel troubled with is why it ever had to be one.
Till
recently(count almost a
decade) I lived with the categorization that my childhood thrust upon me. Married women -“AUNTY”, married woman with kids- “AUNTY for sure” , single
girls senior to you : “DIDI” ( doesnt matter if in your fantasies
you want to knock her father out and run away with her, she all
smiles and mushy and coy over your macho charm. Yeah whatever, go
ahead judge me. ). I
have to thank my college seniors and English movies for their
welcomed and unwelcomed tutelage which taught me to snap the bloody
moral fiber and gave me an escape route in Madam, Sir(gone were uncle
ji and aunty ji other than for too familiar to take risk cases) and “
take the name and append an “aap” for safety” for the senior
dames. (DIDI gone DIDI gone !!!!)
But
talking on broader scale, one can easily see the old patterns and
ways slowly fading out, with the 'big' replacing the 'small', the
'fast' taking place of the 'slow', and
the few of us still clinging to
the 'old ways' and 'good times' desperately seek an escape route in
life midst this mayhem.
Thankfully,
in our country there are still pockets and places where life still hasn't as yet caught up to the pace of it all. One can still sit down
in places and order a tea sitting with the “bhaiyas” and “didis”
and dwell into and amuse oneself with the slow, meaningless chatter
about “ Ramesar ka gaiya beemar hai... dudh kam ho gaya hai.” or
“ Ka pandaayin, Pandit dikhe nahi aj subah... sabere nikal jaatey
hain ka ? “ and even before the Pandayin can answer, the questioner shall get busy scratching his balls worrying at the same time about
his roof needing repair.
It is
at places and times like these I find that my God hasn't deserted me.
He still is watching over me, knowing in the heart of hearts as to
where that ounce of solace and refuge this lost soul of mine craves,
is hidden, and in his mysterious workings takes me to those places and
people to be as I say,
“Lost
in love, lost in time, forever and ever.”
Ka
Pandaayin ?
