The perils of peer pressure

The gut-wrenching  news of Ayazuddin's death after a bike crash brought back decade-old memories of the verbal duel between my brother and dad over a motorcycle. Dad agreed to give him his moribund Zen to drive to college while he demanded a bike, not the Yezdi variety, any bike for that matter. So much so, they continued to exchanged barbs for days and it greatly affected my mental peace. I was the pendulum who swung between dad's 'bikes are unsafe' stand and my brother's 'everybody gets them' cry. With great resentment, he did bow down to my father's "dictatorship".

Today, I wish Ayazuddin had demanded any other Eid gift from his father other than that ominous bike. More so, I wish he was made aware of  the perils of speed racing. Looking back, I so wish that peer pressure in school was as benign as having the same canvas PT shoes. It is dreadful to see young minds getting severely influenced by attitudes, behaviour and values dictated by their social milieu. College is a place where you need to constantly step up your game, unless you want to suffer from FOMO, the fear of missing out. Laser treatments, offensive tattoos, sophisticated gadgets, - all should be tucked under your Hermès belt.

This exhibitionist attitude can be easily seen in misguided children of the upper middle class. Parents have little time to care for them and get away by agreeing to their unjust demands. The individuality conscious parents want their kids to be better than their ilk. The world class schools mushrooming in every nook immediately laps up these potential customers who want to secure a bright future for their kids.Though parents do this with the best of intentions, many oscillate between middle-class norms and unabashed riches of the peers.

Signing up for this social register is not easy. It sometimes takes vulgar machismo to raise its ugly head. Whether it was that DPS boy who obtained fellatio services from his imbecile girlfriend or schoolboys gang raping juvenile classmate, they all suffer from a phobia of 'underachievement'. They are prodded by popular ones to display their abilities and performance by some adrenaline-packed action. Sigh, gone are the days when boys wooed girls with impeccable English and unbelievable scores.

If peer pressure among adolescents was not enough, it's now parents of kindergartners who are feeling the heat too. They take months to brainstorm over themes for their toddler's birthday party and "expensive" return gifts. It's simmering down to not what you want to do but what others are doing.

I remember going to birthday soirees and the notorious conti parties, in school, only to see 'lucky' couples dancing dangerously close to each other. With a Hitler mom at home, I managed only a few naughty things and woefully reminded myself that fools rush in. Today, looking back, I feel my parents, no matter how much we howled, were great at taming our unbridled whims and imparted us a more sorted life.

No Ann-Shun only Work-Shun!

The allusion may invite many smirks, but the Anna Hazare movement reminds me of the legendary Pied Piper of Hamelin. The fact that lakhs of Indians have dropped work, daily chores, babies and more to join his anti-graft crusade reiterates that Anna has managed a Pied Piper kind of mesmerising effect on Indians. In this case, however, the followers are the bourgeoisie, urbanites, curious corporates, back-benchers, social butterflies turned activists and many more. Ofcourse, if you are not in that herd, brave yourself for a caustic tirade by Anna preachers.

This "second freedom struggle movement" has piqued the interest of the upper middle class, which, hitherto, only gave serious thoughts to Dabangg and Indo-Pak matches. While Anna's ways of getting his Lokpal Bill cleared may be debatable, the wave is clearly affecting people than I could ever imagine. Masses have made drastic changes in their hackneyed routines to be with Team Anna. Now whether they just change their profile picture on Facebook, tweet inane Kapil Sibal jokes to show their support or wear 'Me Anna Hazare Aahe' topis at Lakme Fashion Week, we definitely can feel the heat! While the social media is abuzz with pro-Anna sentiments, there are a few handful who beg to differ. Some genuinely want to extend a helping hand towards the fight against corruption, many are clueless about the first step itself.

Some call Arundhati Roy, who disapproves of Anna, a cynical, some display cynicism by calling him names. Well, whether Anna's ways are Gandhian or anarchic, my point is that he has made an impact on Indians that I have not seen in the recent times. The waving flags, tattooed faces and Anna-style topi wearers are as common on Delhi roads today as stray cows. The spirit of people on the streets is positively infectious and inviting. Not to discount, few hooligans who block roads and create nuisance. But, interestingly a big chunk of people are congregating in the Ramlila Maidan either to see a spectacle of epic proportions or to be there to just get the Anna feel. Some feel it's mandatory to be in the cool brigade to wear those caps and many joined the bandwagon because their best buddy wanted them to. Few, even bunked workplace to get a taste of Anna ki Rasoi, the 24-hour kitchen, ensuring free grub to the protesters.

Facebook and Twitter is flooded with Hazare-Kejriwal background checks and comparative analysis between the resumes of Gandhi family scion and middle-class leader Arvind Kejriwal have been carefully drawn. Some 3923 anti-Anna have already pressed the Like button on 'I hate Anna Hazare' group and more are seaming in this acidic social thread. International media is wary of the ways of this 'Gandhi lookalike' and US calls it India's internal matter with absolute nonchalance.

Casual banter with colleagues indicated that many are OK with bribing, because they abhor perspiring in long queues. The many perspectives have clearly made this issue a cauldron of high voltage emotions. Phew, so much action in Anna's twelve days of fasting (so far), I sit back and contemplate that a majority of people are more interested to shun work than actually go and join the anshan!

Chicken Wings in Pineapple Sauce

High on taste and easy to make, these wings will literally fly off the table. They are darn good!


What you need

Chicken wings (15 pieces)
Soya sauce - 2 tablespoon
Green chilli sauce - 1 tablespoon
Vinegar - 1 tablespoon
450 ml pineapple juice (Del Monte)
Ginger-garlic paste (2 tablespoon)
2 small onions - finely chopped
1 green capsicum - in long strips
Salt, pepper to taste
Mixed dried herbs/ oregano (2 teaspoons)
Cooking oil - 2 tablespoon
Cornflour - 1 heaped tablespoon

Marinade
Whisk ginger-garlic paste, 2 teaspoons salt, soya sauce, vinegar and green chilli sauce together. Slather the chicken wings with this marinade.
Remeber to pierce the wings well using a fork to allow the liquid to seep in. Leave aside for an hour.

Preparation
Take a large wok and fry onions in oil. Once they turn pinkish (not brownish), gently slide the wings in.

Now stir fry the wings on high flame for 10 minutes. Reduce the flame and add pineapple juice. Cover the wok and let it simmer for another 10 minutes.

Take a small cup of water and dissolve cornflour so that no lumps remain. Add this to the chicken with some pepper and herbs. Also throw in capsicum strips at this stage.

Gently toss the wings using a spatula. Let it simmer for another ten minutes. At this stage the sauce would coat the chicken well. Shut the flame and let it stay for another ten minutes.

Serve warm as an appetizer or on a bed of noodles/ boiled rice. Enjoy.

Delhi University releases terror list

I still can't get over the outlandish 100 per cent cut-off list in DU. The nightmarish news evokes despair, agony and sadistic pleasure - all at the same time. Though I am glad that I am no longer in the mad rat race of 'admission impossible', the very thought that this pressure is breaking backs of young college aspirants is deeply saddening.

It seems being a book worm is just not enough. Be a book termite, gulp down your tomes, and burp out fallacy-proof answers. The ones even Google can't! Internet is already flooded with a barrage of jokes shooting down this absurd cut-off list. What's next - are they going to ask for a 100% + science Olympiad winners + 2000 plus Twitter followers - next year as prerequisites?

The sword is no longer dangling over college aspirants. It has cut off a major chunk of self-esteem of students who have potential to shine and not academically I mean. Varsity always meant playful banter, benign flirting, U-specials, cheap thrills and lots of aspirations. I feel all this has been nipped in the bud now. With marks being the sole factor in a student's life, I doubt if anyone would take sports, dramatics, college fests and elocutions seriously. Who would have the time to waste..when it can be used to mug up for exams.

Even filmmakers could not anticipate that few years down the line a century would make the cut. Else, SRK would have got a neat 100 in 'Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa' (My all time fav). My grandfather proudly recalled how my dad got distinctions in all subjects in school. Time really has changed...and not for good. With options so few, one can't even spark the debate over college versus course now.

I have no clue what will happen when my toddler goes to university. Either I slog my a** out and save enough to pay hefty donations...or just let her be. I honestly believe..no one can or should get 100 per cent because every argument has two sides and every reasoning evokes a different response.

Suffering from M(AIDS)

No, I did not join the 'LOVE the garlic bread of Domino's' group on Facebook, yet I named my blog cheesy dip, because I love this pungent, squishy-squashy goey goodness. Ofcourse, we all also love to be cheesy at some point in our lives and this blog will talk about good food and not-so-good after-taste of real-life experiences.

Well, ever since I've heard the joke that Indian women get afflicted mostly by two things, namely AIDS and MAIDS, I can agree no less. Once I'm done with my blue-collar work and reach home, on a Friday evening, the domestic help stretches her arms and laments, 'your little imp poked her fingers in electric sockets today....did not eat the parantha...had kurkure instead.....also...she went to the bathroom and emptied a pail of water over herself (hyperbole?)....blah..blah..."

I pacify her, "Why don't you take rest for a while.... Did you have tea?"

She stings, "Huh? yes...I gulped it cold..I was busy running after your child....Do you want anything..? Tea, coffee...she asks dryly.

Ofcourse, I pick up my bundle of energy, and never really manage to sit peacefully for the next two days. Yes we do get to sleep in the nights though..If we are lucky, a movie or two on DVD, is also thrown in the busy schedule. Amid soiled diapers, many feeding attempts, ever-growing baby shopping list and a few noisy guests, the precious weekend just breezes by.

On Monday morning, I plonk myself in front of the computer and call out for coffee. Soaking up this royal treatment before getting into the grind is a Maldives-like experience. Any working woman can vouch for this. The day ends, I reach home...and there goes the Queen ..."You know..I could not sleep in the afternooon today...your little imp........". Ouch. Not a very happy ending.