Online Woes

These days major load of the postal department has been taken over by Courier services and E-Commerce and net banking. P & T has become just P . Telegram had gone redundant years back , but only recently has the Govt  admitted to the fact and has closed down the service officially. Yet there are times one needs to visit these dinosaur departments once in a while.

(We actually have these ancient style post boxes at Mhow till date. This is no snap from the History Book !!) 

Having filed the ITR , I had to send it by Speed post (or just drop it into the Dinosaur's mouth)

The Post office was virtually deserted, with one or no customer at any counter. The Queue at my counter with all of one customer just would not move for over 15 minutes. There was an old man at the post, peering into  his screen with a frozen look of concern and concentration. I woke him up from his reverie to learn that the server was not working and that he was 'trying'. I also learnt that there was no manual way to book the post. It was windows trouble shooting at its best with the slogan "Re-start ; Re-install; and Re-format". Of these an operator of a client station could resort only to the first option and that's what  he had been doing for over half an hour. I went to the post master and She for her part upgraded the trouble shooting effort. She restarted the Server !

I decided to move over to the next counter to update my PPF account and to make a deposit. Again it was a similar scene with a lady staring  at a monitor screen. It was a different server. 

I asked her if I could access the account online. She gave a frustrated look, "server  ki wajah se to delay ho raha hai" (She was working on the server and that's why it was taking more time) . 

Later I came too know that the problem was not with the server but with the 'served' . She just couldn't decipher the contents of the page she had been served. After what seemed a long long time, an all knowing youngster came to help her. He said, that a transaction has to be done to see the statement! I was asked to deposit Rs 2000. It was OK with me as that's what I had gone there for. Challan filled, money collected and data feeding started and then came the long wait again. For some reason, the lady started calling for the 'expert' again  . The way she repeatedly invoked the name of "Ghanshyam ", even Krishna Parmatma would have come down from his heavenly abode, but there was no sign of this Ghanshyam. There was that tone of urgency in her voice , since a 'time out ' would mean refilling all the details.  The pleading tone did have some effect and the help arrived. 

"Submit " button daba doon (Shall I press the submit button) Oh, it was for this confirmation that she needed an "expert" ? 

Permission obtained, data submitted , both were looking keenly at the response on the monitor. How I wish I had access to the screen they were staring at! Finally, Ghanshyam informed me with an absolutely sorry look ," Minimum amount, the system would accept would be Rs 5400, as you have not deposited for over 3 years" . Fortunately , there was an ATM of a private bank nearby,and the correct amount was deposited and the transaction was committed on the server. I am sure that was the only transaction done by that lady for the day.  

As I was leaving the Post office, I just happened to glance at the Speed Post Counter to see some activity on the printer. So, the 50th restart had worked ?!  I asked him if he could try now. he said in a sing song voice "Khosish karenge..... . Ho jaata .......to ...bahut achcha hoga" (I'll try and if it works, fine) . After four envelopes, when my turn came , the system hanged again. He looked at me, amused yet accusingly ,declaring that the system hanged as soon as he had fed the data pertaing to my letter! Mea Culpa !! But he was kind enough to restart again and this time it worked !

Everyone was so nice and wanting to be so helpful yet were so helpless . Now that all transactions are online , there is no looking back. So,  they have no other option but to look back and yell for "GhanShyam " or whosoever could coax a server into action  on that day .

 

A Town Called Mhow

    How often have I been asked ? A south Indian, how come you have settled down at Mhow? I have no clear answers . But every time  I hear such a question, it triggers a series of thoughts on the uniqueness of Mhow.

   As a fauji I have been through 23 different places of posting , generally referred to as a military station or a cantonment. Many fellow-rovers would  agree with me that most of the people , toy with the idea of settling down in their place of posting, some time or the other . It could be the Nilgiris,  a Punjabi might fall in love with or Pithoragarh (google map please!) that might entice a South Indian. But these places are known for the short tourist seasons , and the ideas for taking roots  at such places are also seasonal...  In Pithoragarh  if you go through one winter ,  the salubrious climate in Summer is spoilt with this thought “If summer is here , can winter be far behind ?, .. run before it sets in" . It would be John Keats reverse-quoted (a word I just coined) .

So it goes, one place good only for summer, another good only for winter, too far North or too far South, East or west , too much rain or too little rain, concrete jungle or too remote a place and it goes on... Now let us look at Mhow. It is like the story of Narasimhavatar of Vishnu.... neither too warm or too cold, neither too North or too South, neither urban nor rural, neither a cantonment nor a civil area...well , on which ever axis you consider, it falls right in the middle ! It Includes some dubious considerations; neither are people too law abiding nor too lawless !

Any account of Mhow is not complete without a mention of Mhow-bazaar. The Main street is almost as if custom made for the fauji ladies ! Walking across just half a km, they can find   fancy gowns, dresses , suits, leather jackets, leather boots, or beautiful curtains , paintings, wood carvings and such stuff for their drawing room , ingredients to exercise all their culinary skills in Chinese and Continental dishes (poor husbands !). Mhow tailors , historically , have been catering for the Rajas and aristocrats during  British India and later to the army personnel posted all over the country in the Independent India. I for one have always got my uniforms made at Mhow, wherever I was posted; did I say 23 stations ?

Whats so great about a market and tailors? It is the ambiance that strikes. Whether it is the people moving about in the narrow streets and lanes of the town, or the shop keepers sitting at their desk on a summer afternoon, there is a sense of timelessness. Many shops actually shut down from two to four for the afternoon siesta. The bhoras are always smiling with the 'koi dikkat nahin' attitude. I bought  curtain rods for my house, my measurements turned out to be wrong and I went back for exchanging them , not with much hope. As it happened ,  fresh piecees were cut to the revised size with a 'Koi dikkat nahin' smile.

My wife had been lugging around an old Sumit mixer grinder , absolutely functional but one crucial knob missing. The machine was so obsolete no spares were  available anywhere. That was before we reached Mhow. A 10 ft by 12 ft shop with a know-all , do-all owner, with a 'koi dikkat nahin ' attitude  found the right solution in no time . It is not just the jugaad for repairing stuff , they can also produce such stuff found only in elite stores. I was looking for a 'quiche tray' and the same shop-keeper produced it seemingly out of nowhere. (I had only recently learnt the word 'quiche' but as a shop-keeper of Main street , Mhow he was fully aware of the the contraption as an essential need of a fauji mem-saab.)

An ancient defence service officers institute coupled with modern libraries, gymnasiums , tennis and squash courts, an olympic size  swimming pool, a sprawling golf course and most importantly the ambiance of Mhow-bazaar has made this place truly a haven for a retired fauji.

A Meal at Gurudwara, Mhow

It was not the first time I was going to a Gurudwara. During the days when we were co-located with a unit of the Sikh Regiment, I have attended many functions at Gurudwara, but more often than not it used to be just another 'Parade'.

Last week a retired army officer, invited us; insisted that I should bring my mother along; to a Gurudwara at Mhow for a keertan followed by lunch, to celebrate the wedding anniversaries of his son and daughter. We were a little surprised, since the gentlemen was from south of Vindhyas and so were his son-in-law and daughter in law.

A word about the places of worship in army; in most of the places including at College of Military Engineering (MCTE) , Mhow, portions of a military barrack are used as 'Mandir' Masjid, Gurudwara or Church. Very often it happens that when a Jat unit takes over a barrack from a Sikh unit, the Gurudwara is converted to a Mandir overnight. The flag is changed from yellow to red and the Guru Granth Sahib is replaced by  idols of Radha and Krishna. In the units having mixed troops , they have what we call an MMG (Mandir-Masjid-Gurudwara) functioning under the same roof.

Anyway, we did attend the function in full strength. The Gurudwara in the army area was clean, well maintained and very well organized. Most of the people attending were from 'The Signals Vihar' a colony of retired officers. One could sense a general atmosphere of peace and contentedness. After the Ardhas (Arati for Hindus) , which was attended by the pundit from the Mandir next door, among others, lunch was served outside the main hall. Everyone was seated on the floor on a long 'chatai' (a carpet) and food was served by volunteers . The meal was simple and wholesome. I was glad I could sit cross legged on the floor (though not as much at ease as I wished) and many of the guests were sitting on the edge of the verandah , with legs half strecthed, half folded, to ease the creaking joints . There was a distinct feeling of fraternity, though there people from all ranks, including a couple of Lieutinent generals.

I was reminded of the community meal , I used to have at Divine Life Society at Hrishikesh , on my way to Harsil where I was posted for two years. A simple meal of daal, rice, roti and vegetables tastes so delicious when partaken, in a warm and friendly atmosphere.

(Photos do not pertain to Mhow, but  random picks from the net)

Tail piece : An anecdote going round in army circles: A young sardar in a unit asked his ustad, "yeh Christmas kya hota hai ? chhuti kyon manate hain ?" and his Ustad, assuming a posture of prayer with bowed head and folded hands, explained "yeh isaayiyon ka Guru purab hota hai" (This day is the Guru purab of Christians)

Another Sign Post at Mhow