Is there such a thing as the evil eye and should you be afraid of it?

My father was a good man ......he was kind, gentle and helpful, but he had his doubts about ritual and was dismissive and thoroughly disparaging of superstition, godmen, and the cumbersomeness of religion. He cared deeply and tenderly for those close to him. How much he cared for those nearest and dearest to him really hit home the night he did something most unlike him - he turned to superstition as an answer to a problem for which he could find no other solution. That was the night my three month old collicky offspring brought the roof down with his three hour long non stop crying marathon! That was the night my father surprised me by telling my mother in dead earnest, "Do whatever it is you do to ward off the evil eye, do that ridiculous ritual, do something, anything to stop whatever is bothering the baby". His grandson was the most beautiful baby on earth and he could not bear to see him in some inexplicable and unstoppable pain.

Desperation and helplessness in the face of distress bring out the "nazar lag gayi" or "nazar utaro" instinct in us. In our fear that what we hold dear and close to our hearts is going to be harmed or destroyed, we blame the evil eye. In our our anger that our beautiful bubble of complacence has gone bust or might be about to be busted, we convince and flatter ourselves that people are casting an evil eye on us.

While my father's bowing to the "nazar utarna" ritual was a one off thing, an aberration (thank God), one for which he ridiculed himself the very next day when his grandson was his normal smiley, gurgling self again, there are those who really and truly believe in the evil eye and the potential harm it can do - think chappals and black dolls tied on the back of trucks, black dots smeared on the faces of cute chubby infants, nimbu-mirchi (lemon-green chilly) charms tied on shop entrances, among other crazy things.....

At the bottom of all of this is our supreme vanity, don't you think? In our vanity and self satisfaction, we presume that we have everything that everyone else covets. In our narcissism, our self-absorbedness, we fail to see that everything, every single thing in the world is relative - wealth, beauty, brains, good luck, good health - whatever we have, there's always someone who has more of it. So why would anyone cast an evil eye on us and not on those others who are better endowed than us? Why would anyone covet my wealth and not the Birla's or the Tata's millions?

Why do we never stop to think that the busting of our bubble is just the 'down' that must come after the 'up' in the endless cycle of ups and downs that define life? Why can't we see that what we assume to be the evil eye that has been cast upon us is just a Malthusian type of theory busy at work bringing balance back into a skewed world! Or as some would say, your bad karma from this life or an earlier one coming to bite you.....

Frankly, any explanation would be better than to be trapped behind the fear of the evil eye. I can't think of a more pitiable way to live than that. How liberating it must be to be able to say to oneself, "I am what I am, I have what I have, I have earned it without harming anyone, I am thankful for it, I value it, I cherish it, but I am humble in the face of it", and be able to enjoy it without any fear of it being taken away by the evil eye!

Of course, the part in bold font is the most important condition to enjoying this feeling of liberation, and is there anyone in the world who can truly satisfy it? And if not, then is the fear of the evil eye just good old guilt in addition to good old vanity. Something to ponder I guess.......

   

June 30, 2014, Flight AI - 047

Ok this is nothing if not blogworthy! So here goes....

It was the last day of work for me before my husband and I relocated to the place of his new assignment. I had just conducted the last workshop of my five year stint as a teacher trainer back home in India. What a memorable evening that was on my flight home to Delhi after the workshop in Kochi! It opened my eyes to many unexpected truths, big and small about myself and others!

After a completely predictable one hour delay (nothing out of the ordinary, nothing amiss......it was an Air India flight), as I finally boarded the aircraft, if I thought the state of disarray of the stewardess's saree, hair and makeup was unprofessional and visually distressing, in hindsight I think this was her way of preparing us for her near meltdown a while later! We took off after she had bullied, ordered, and shouted at me and my fellow flyers to straighten our seatbacks, fasten our seat belts, etc. She practically dumped the dinner trays in front of us hapless and meek victims. She would have thrown them at us like frisbees if she could have! Then suddenly just about an hour after takeoff, as dinner was coming to an end for most though not all of us, we heard her ask on the PA system if there was an EOD expert on board. There was a medical emergency on board and the stewardess from hell was asking if there was a doctor in our midst, and EOD referred to some special branch or degree or specialisation in the medical field. I thank the good lord above that that was what I and many others on board thought. To find out why I am grateful for our ignorance and misunderstanding of the situation read on...... It would spoil the fun (I can call it 'fun' now that it is over) if I gave it out just like that in a sentence or two!

I am not sure if the captain had asked her to make that announcement or if she was being proactive and taking the initiative of her own accord. Well, the announcement made, she hung up the PA apparatus and then came her quick downward slide into panic (at this stage thankfully only for her). Without warning she swiped the dinner trays off of the passengers' tray tables, surprising those who were only halfway through their meal, and almost yanked the cutlery out of the hands and mouths of some of them!

We could sense that we were descending and were perplexed. Our flight which had originated in Kochi and was headed to Delhi, was not due to land for over an hour more. What was going on? A young steward showing exemplary calm (again in hindsight - at that time I don't think any of us really appreciated his demeanor or brilliant handling of a difficult situation, because we did not know it was difficult!) in complete contrast to his much senior colleague, passed by me as he made sure everything was stowed away and secured. I asked him if we were landing. He answered in the affirmative. Then when I asked him why we were landing he said very politely but firmly "Let's not go into that right now ma'am". I asked the guy seated in front of me if he knew what was happening. Turns out he was an ex-Indian Air Force officer. He said EOD stood for Explosive Ordinance Disposal, he thought there was probably a bomb on board, which is why we were making an emergency landing, and that the stewardess from hell must have been out of her mind to make that announcement earlier! It is unimaginable the panic that would have ensued had this man not kept quiet or had any of the other passengers on board understood what EOD meant. As the plane touched down, the wonderful young steward briskly, yet calmly asked the passengers seated in the Emergency Exit row (Row 11 or 12 if I am not mistaken) to open the doors. The poor passengers had frozen with shock and terror at the implication of his request, so he once again calmly instructed them how to turn the handles to release the locks, and asked them to step out and evacuate the plane as soon as possible using the chutes which had inflated and opened up.

That's when I heard a little bit of screaming among the women passengers, many of whom were traveling with very young children and even infants but without their husbands, and saw a bit of jostling as everyone rushed for the same emergency exit. Once again the young steward quietly informed them that there were other exits further back as well as across the aisle, and that they should not all rush to the same one. Thanks to his composure, the screaming ended within seconds as people started evacuating.

I am pretty amazed at how calm I had felt in that moment, probably thanks to this remarkable young crew member we had in my part of the aircraft. I could hear the crazy frenzied stewardess somewhere at the back yelling at passengers to move on and get out of the aircraft using the emergency exits at the rear.  I undid my seat belt, stood up, quickly thought that I could and should carry my laptop case which had my cell phone and wallet containing my Pan card, credit cards, boarding pass, bills from my trip that I would need to submit to my office in it. Then listening to the screaming behind me and sensing the jostling that was happening, I decided to take only my phone and wallet to make for an easier and faster exit. As it happened I was wearing slightly high heels and a saree (dress code for the training I had just conducted in Kochi) and funnily enough (now that it is over) the first thought that occurred to me as I stepped out on the wing of the aircraft to go down the chute was, "will my sari ride up as I slide down?" I took one step onto the chute and before I knew it I was falling on my butt and my wallet was flying out of my hand (hope you never have to find this out for yourself but the evacuation chutes are extremely bouncy!). I could see some papers (not sure what they were in that instant) fluttering out, and some cards falling out of the wallet. The wallet itself landed on the wing of the aircraft. Knowing that I just had to get my wallet back, believe it or not I scrambled back onto the wing and retrieved it, cursing myself for not bringing my laptop case with me - if I had had it this would not have happened! Anyway, my phone and wallet clutched tightly in my hand once again, I slid down the chute at a tremendous speed with no control at all over my body (for obvious reasons the chutes allow for no friction with the body which will slow down the evacuation). I landed in a heap on the hard tarmac with one knee folded under me. Judging by the stinging sensation and the bruise I saw on my shin in the split second before I scrambled onto my feet and started running to the edges of the tarmac to put distance between the aircraft and myself, I realised my fears had come true - my saree had ridden up during that roller coaster ride down the chute! The tarmac was crawling with Anti Terrorist Squad, Intelligence Bureau, Dog Squad, Police, and Airport personnel and their vehicles......had anyone seen me being unceremoniously dumped on the ground by the treacherous evacuation chute, with my saree hitched up God knows how high?!!!!! Such a vain and frivolous thought in such a potentially dangerous and serious situation, but there it is, it happened.....ha ha ha!

As I half brisk-walked, half ran away from the aircraft I checked to see if all the important contents of my wallet were still there. Oh no! my Pan Card was missing and there was no sign of my boarding pass either. A quick backward glance showed me something lying below the wing, near the wheels of the aircraft. Should I dash back and see if it was one of the things I was missing? Stupid, I told myself, there might be an explosion any second now, just get away from the aircraft! Joining my fellow flyers who had by now evacuated the plane and were standing at the edge of the tarmac (some without any footwear but with their entire cabin baggage (smart guys!), others with nothing except their babies and toddlers - no handbags, no wallets, no phones, nothing at all), I waited for the airport coaches to arrive. What was I going to do......I had no Pan Card now and no boarding pass. Whether or not the plane exploded in the next minute was the least of my worries now that I was safe.......I could foresee the hassle of applying and waiting for a new Pan Card just when we were about to start packing to move house and relocate. More important and of immediate concern was the fact that technically since I didn't have my Boarding Pass or the only ID I had been carrying, I had no proof that I had really been on flight AI - 047, and that I was therefore entitled to a seat on a plane Air India would put us on to go home, whenever that would be!

With this on my mind I clambered onto an airport coach, which after what seemed to be hours, transported us to the airport terminal, where we found out that we had landed in Bangalore! We were herded and kept close together in a holding area so no one could wander off...... there was the added complication of having amongst us foreigners who had completed their departure immigration formalities in Kochi and whose passports now showed them as having exited the country! An important looking man with an ID card round his neck, who seemed to be listening patiently to individual concerns and complaints from the hapless passengers, and from whom various airport personnel seemed to be taking orders, came close to where I was standing. On an impulse, I went up to him and told him about my lost Pan Card, and that that was the only ID I had with me on this journey. Incredible though it seems to me now, considering the much much more important things anyone in a position of authority would have had to deal with in that situation, the man asked me where I thought it had fallen, assured me that he would call his men who were at that moment out on the tarmac sanitizing the plane to make sure it was safe. He would ask them to look for the card. I thanked him and went and found a place to sit, thinking that I had done what I could but that there was very little hope of finding the card. I could hardly believe my ears when an hour and a half later the man informed me that my Pan Card had been found exactly where I had said it had fallen. Thirty minutes later, I watched as the sanitizing staff carefully passed the card under the locked plate glass doors between the tarmac and terminal building. My saviour received it, and casually handed it to me. This man I later found out was in charge of Airport Security in Bangalore!

Ridiculously, after spending five or six hours being held in the airport terminal, (during which time we were allowed to go on board the sanitized aircraft to pick up the cabin baggage we had abandoned as we evacuated), we were transported to a hotel that was 45 minutes away, and then transported back to the airport to catch a flight after spending barely 90 minutes in a hotel room that each of us had to share with a complete stranger!

I finally got home exactly 12 hours later than I was supposed to, tired and annoyed that we had been put through this ordeal on the mere suspicion of an explosive on board, yet grateful for the steps that had been taken and of course relieved that nothing had been found, and that we were all safe. I also came home that day enlightened about many things, namely that age and experience do not add up to expertise or professionalism, that some people in positions of authority will readily do little things that are well within their power to do for little people, no matter how many other important things they are responsible for, that women can be amazingly stoic and strong and calm for their children, that no matter how often you fly you must NOT peruse the in-flight shopping magazine when the safety and evacuation procedures are being demonstrated ;), and above all that I can be super calm under pressure (hopefully because of my inner strength and not because I am in shock) and have very mundane thoughts even in life and death situations:)!!!!    





       








        

What's your "work the room" score?

I should be good at it, but sadly I really suck at this skill. It has nothing to do with being able to stand long hours at cocktail receptions (after four years in Germany I believe I have learnt this from the best - the Germans!), being able to hold a full dinner plate and wine glass and eat, drink and talk while standing (thanks to those most convenient plates with the crazy hook/hanger/ring that holds your glass on the rim of the plate), or being able to make small talk with utmost sincerity (if nothing else the almost 30 years I have spent living the diplomatic life have taught me that!)!

Okay okay okay I think I've probably completely lost you now so let me reveal the name of this skill that I don't have - it is called "working the room"! You are highly skilled in this area if you manage to hold a conversation with eighty to a hundred per cent of the people in a gathering of anything above ten people! Just kidding, but I am sure you know what I mean.......

Believe me, working the room successfully is not for the faint hearted .....and faint hearted I am! For this reason I feel my heart sink a little when I enter a party in which everyone is standing and talking to someone or other, and I begin to wonder if anyone's going to talk to me. Funnily though, while at first glance everyone seems to be busy enough to make you feel lonely and out of place, on closer inspection, nine out of ten people in that room seem to me to be invariably looking for a way to end whatever conversation they are engaged in, with kind phrases like "I'm going to let you go", "I just spotted someone I need to meet", "don't let me keep you" or whatever! It's almost palpable, the anxiety to mix and mingle, the need to move on and talk to a person other than the one one is currently talking to, the tendency to quickly mark the people one absolutely must meet before leaving the party, the half listening-half searching expression on the faces of the "working the room" experts! While this knowledge helps me to sometimes catch an "expert's" searching eye and steal someone's conversation partner, from here on I am a non-starter!

More often than not, I don't make any headway at all after this coup! I must be the person who tots up the lowest score in terms of "the number of people met" during the party. For fear of hurting or abandoning whoever it is I am talking with, most of the time I find myself losing the race I call the "Who's going to excuse him/herself and move on first - him or me Race?". Not that I am particularly boring, and I don't think people want to run away from me, but then neither do I have a great need to move on to someone else every few minutes, which makes me a sucker and a loser in this race! While I am steeling myself to try to be the first one to move on, my partner in conversation has usually already beaten me to it in the most natural, easy manner that reflects none of the struggle, guilt or mental preparation I go through even when I desperately want to extricate myself from a conversation!

So what do I do on arrival at a stand up reception? Just pray that I will get lucky and run into someone just like me who is happy to have an extended conversation about something, or who is worse than me at "working the room"! Who knows, this person might be the trigger I need to push me into perfecting this valuable skill! Hahahaha......