My first memories of school are about white uniforms and a dark blue knotty tie with yellow stripes.There used to be two sets every year(the question of why there weren't three never crossed my mind).I wore one while the other went to be washed by my mother-a part of her daily ritual of household chores).Every pair lasted a year,and new text books for a new class brought in a new pair stitched by the school tailor.My love of white shirts went on unfettered.
In class-7,when my father bought me my first pair of coloured trousers(navy blue)for high school.The mere thrill of having them opened my eyes to the world outside.I realised,without any sadness,that most of my class-mates were better dressed than me in school as far as the quality of the cloth was concerned,and certainly better dressed in every sense,beyond school hours.But again,I didn't feel any questions nagging my attention in the class-room.I was a happy child.
The mid 80's didn't fail to catch my active attention,as a period of Change all around,the whole world in fact.In retrospection,I am enticed to call it the Age of Excesses.Everything seemed larger than life,and the loner and introvert adolescent that I was,I was absolutely over-awed,the reactions of which I could just confine to my own self,to my relief.Homes of my school-friends became more fashionable,some of them resembling movie sets.Gyms multiplied,so did beauty salons,classes of western dancing,hair studios and spas.I distinctly remember the neighbourhood tailor packing up and going back to his village in UP,after a couple of fancy designers, WEEKENDER and WEARHOUSE set up shop not very far away.I remember my insecurity about dressing up smart when one day I went window-shopping out of curiousity,and my jaw dropped as I strained to read the price-tag of a chequered shirt worn by a mannequine in the display gallery of WEEKENDER.I was sixteen then.
In two years the acceleration of Change increased even more but I was too engrossed to take an observant note,as I dipped my introvert self in the warmth of early youth,frank,bold and welcoming that my first step in medical college offered me generously.And there I lived the most beautiful six years of my life and to the full,mostly on a couple of pairs of frayed jeans.By now I had become a part of the Change that was going on its own pace.Change did not leave me over-awed anymore as I had come to realise that Life itself is a story of a sequence of changes,from one phase to another.
The Change goes on.It's not just people.Nations are going the same way.We all know that the world can't afford another America.But China seems to be getting there too.They are building cities,highways,factories at such a frantic pace that sometimes it feels a bit scary to note.I think we are doing the same here,maybe not at the chilling pace,but at a colossal human cost.Our climate is changing.We are being hit by psunamis,floods and draughts.The soothing green of our forests are vanishing fast.So are our wild life,mangroves and water resources.Our seas and rivers are polluting to dangerous levels.Our cities are becoming impossible to live in.
And no,it is not just about over-consumption.It's also about showing off,telling the international community and its dominant powers that we have arrived.Most will disagree with me when I ask the question that why shall we spend two billion dollars on a wasted space programme or hire Nilekani to create an Orwellian world of UIDs when we cannot feed our poor despite producing enough food-grains?We waste money on nuclear technology(most of it in the Defence sector)and bullet-proof vests that can't stop bullets.But we cannot stop the 35% wastage of foodgrains every year which has the potential of wiping out Hunger in India.
One of the lessons of the recent recession is that Excess tires and extreme excess is extremely tiresome. So I,for one,have gone back to my white shirt and frayed denims.I find them much simpler to wear and carry where everybody is screaming.And no,it's about austerity,it's about going back to the Classic-the enduring mystique of the white shirt that even Armani celebrates.
And I don't have any regrets about either.
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