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A woman cop could book you for jumping signals

You may notice a rather petite looking traffic police constable in neat khakis furiously blowing a whistle and making hand signals amidst heavy traffic. The hefty Mumbai traffic constable unit that combats pollution, dust and rowdy drivers, now has been infused with 15 fresh female recruits. For the first time in the city, women will man traffic signals, shattering another glass ceiling in a male-dominated profession.

Previously confined indoors and assigned duties that didn’t require physical exertion, the female members of the traffic police monitored CCTV cameras at the Worli headquarters of the Traffic Police. To take up the new challenge successfully, they were trained in the various nuances of traffic control. This involved learning nine arm signals and how to deal with traffic offenders, face-to-face.

For 23-year-old constable Anita Haribahu Gajare, standing for long hours on the road, facing the travails of nature on the job can be physically draining. She credits this ability to her tough upbringing as a farm hand on her parent’s cauliflower farm in Ahmednagar. Worli’s Cadbury junction, Hughes Road and Chowpatty bandstand were the first traffic signals where female constables have been posted since last month. Joint commissioner of police (traffic), Vivek Phansalkar confesses that the Home Minister’s instructions to fill up the 30% reservation for women in the police force prompted them to take this step. “The girls have been trained for a year and will also be learning how to deal with people on the job from their male colleagues,’’ says Phansalkar. And if male road rage becomes too overpowering for them to handle, then they can always fall back on their male counterparts for assistance. “When both men and women are getting the same salary, then they should also fulfill similar duties,’’ he says. Although Thane and Pune have active women traffic cops on the road, Mumbai will see them for the first time.

At the Chowpatty bandstand signal, 26-year-old traffic constable Priti Suresh Changan doesn’t hesitate to pull up male drivers. Her male colleague acknowledges that a lady cop can deal with errant female drivers more tactfully than they manage to do. Changan will soon be taught how to use the breathalyzer to deal with female drunken drivers too.  The only thing that seems to be worrying the new female patrol is sun burn on duty. Pandit Kale, assistant commissioner, Mumbai Traffic Police says they have seen a steady increase in applications from women ready to man traffic signals.

A few points I’d like to make:

• I don’t know how many men would offer a woman police a bribe.
• Wish they’d have a different uniform from the male cops.  And better shoes. I saw Anita stand barefoot the other day.
• Their male counterparts told me women won’t last on the road. ”They’re worried about their complexion and don’t want to turn as dark as us,” said one cop at the police station.
• Never understood what the traffic police’s duties are… Some only catch people for lane crossing and arm signal once in a while. They’ll not bother if any other rules are being broken, even if they are in front of their eyes. Sad.

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The bus must've stopped, for sure.

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It was my Twitter friend who introduced me to chatroulette.com, the new internet sensation and brainchild of 17-year-old Russian student Andrey Ternovskiy. It’s a simple enough contraption — no registration, no user names or passwords, just cam-to-cam conversations at the click of a mouse. The disconcerting part: the person in the webcam opposite you could be anyone anywhere in the world, one of the 1.5 million strangers who visits the free service everyday.

Journalistic obligations compelled me to connect, with some amount of trepidation. It isn’t easy being transported face-to-face into a random stranger’s domain. But it had to be done.

A few clicks had me reeling through a kaleidoscope of humanity. I met teen boys looking for boobs, a white-haired citizen breaking into a song, a gang of cheerleaders doing a shimmy, rooms of inebriated people grinning, and talking cameras pointed at pillows. With every consecutive ‘Next’ click, I came upon strange people talking strange languages, armed with props, puppets and pets; disguised with masks, wigs, sunglasses and superhero costumes. I was transported to bedrooms, dormitories, offices, kitchens and dark corners.

Two boys, tucked under a blanket, on a bed with the flag of Turkey in the background asked me where I was from. They then came closer to the camera and whispered, ‘Can you do webcam show?’ Obligingly, I swayed my head and started singing Strange Love. A few seconds later, I was singing to a blank black screen. I had been nexted.

Nexting is a verb. You get nexted when the stranger on the other side brutally clicks the ‘New game’ or ‘Next’ button immediately after seeing you (I later realised the boys were looking for a different kind of show). Mutual predilection keeps roulette exchanges going until one party decides to depart, and to my consternation, most of my conversations lasted for a fleeting few seconds, as I was ‘nexted’ by 16 people in two minutes.

Rejection hurt. It felt like I had lost my mojo and muchness. Girls didn’t want to talk to me, the boys asked me to put up performances and racists disconnected after I told them I was from India. And then there were those who I nexted. Like every chatroom, this site streams its share of sleaze from around the world. It’s a flasher’s hotspot and you may chance upon a macho type doing a full monty and other unmentionable acts. Statutory warning: To avoid embarrassment it is advisable not to chatroulette at work.

All this talk with strangers and randomness brought back teenage memories of Yahoo chatrooms where every conversation started with the ASL (age, sex, location) question, everyone had a pseudonym and anonymous role-playing was savoured. But then everything’s not a secret on the site. Another service called chatroulettemap pins screenshots of the site’s users to a map using their IP address and geolocation tools.

Having being nexted too many times, I decided to don a colourful wig and look alluring. A cryptic façade, I figured, might help me gel a little better with the demanding strangers. It worked wonders. My next encounter lasted for six whole minutes. We didn’t talk, just stared into each other’s eyes. Fido looked debonair. He was wearing a black tuxedo with a bow tie. But a few incomprehensible barks later, I was bored and decided it was time to wave out, and say goodbye to Fido the pug and his master who only stood behind, giggling at the advances we were making.

At 2 am, IST, the only time I can surf the web without someone peeping at my screen, I met WB Yeats from Toronto. He ended every line in a rhyme and thought his words were sublime. The game got better with every click and I have to admit, I have become a Chatroulette addict. It’s a great break from the mundane text and photo talk on Facebook and Twitter.

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An enterprising 55-year-old bachelor claiming to have almost made it to the portals of the Forbes list of billionaires was reluctantly but firmly refused entry to an exclusive party. So were pushy parents and wannabe in-laws who were eager to gatecrash the meet. The unlikely bouncers were hoary-headed and fragile but iron-willed pillars of the Zoroastrian community who had arranged a get-together aka speed dating only for Zoroastrian eligibles aged 18-40. The soporific Khareghat Colony at Hughes Road was suddenly charged with exuberance when 97 singles descended upon the venue last Saturday.

The meet was organised by the Bombay Parsi Panchayat (BPP) who has turned matchmaker in order to facilitate young Zoroastrians to find soulmates and counter the dwindling population of the community. It’s proposed to be a monthly affair, which will culminate in a few happily-married-ever-after stories. (…and ofcourse then there would be three or four or even five…)

The 2001 census reported that the number of Parsis in India were 69600 and a recent research paper by the International Institute for Population Sciences titled `The Demographic Predicament of Parsis in India’ predicts that by 2051, there would be only 34,000 Parsis in India. The marriage bureau has been revived by the BPP in order to make sure single Parsis who otherwise do not get chances to interact with members of their community have a place to meet.

Organiser and BPP trustee Arnavaz Mistry recalls how she would get calls from parents looking to find suitors for their children. “Singles wanted the BPP to organize more community meets. The response to our efforts has been unprecedented. We had 91 singles at the first meet and 96 for the second,’’ she says. 

Each hopeful had to list their name, age, address, qualifications and contact details in a register before entering. Of the 96 participants, 36 were girls and 60 were boys. The organisers observed that while the girls were double graduates, MBAs, LLBs, MBBSs and CAs, the boys scored lower on the educational front, which does not work in their favour.

As the program took off, perennially favourite party games with appropriate innovations helped to break the ice and let the singles mingle. The Queen of Sheeba suddenly showed a bias to demand significantly Zoroastrian items. An Asho Farohar pendant, a kusti (holy thread worn around the waist) and a gent’s sudra (muslin shirt of religious significance) were on her requests list. One team gained extra points when an eager-beaver swiftly partially disrobed and proffered his sadra to the team members to gain winning points. His task was heartily applauded. An on-looker would wonder why others were reluctant to follow in this Salman Khan’s footsteps.

The next ice-breaker almost became an arm-breaker as Musical Arms was played to songs like Rasputin, DISCO, Daddy Cool and Gimme Hope Jo’anna. As group games progressed, the bashful youngsters were seen conversing and getting to know each other. ”If you look closely, you’ll notice that the guys are actually more shy than the girls,” says Zarin Havewala one of the organisers. Host and BPP trustee  Arnavaz Mistry was egging the participants to socialise. ”Our efforts would not be in vain even if they culminate in one or two marriages,” says Desai who had publicised the event through various colony circulars and newspaper ads. The old ways of making matches through word of mouth by the kaajwali bai (matchmaker) are almost redundant. The 21st century Zoroastrians prefer to have a direct dialogue to confirm a plausible alliance.

Yazdi Naval Manek, 38 has been trying to find a suitable match since seven years. “Earlier the BPP would send registered letters with details about prospective brides. But that method was very slow and didn’t really help me find a good match,’’ says the resident of Byculla’s Jer Baug who then tries to make conversation with a group of giggling girls from Godrej Baug. Their dilemma is apparent. “I’m 29, unmarried and Parsi. There are too few boys, too much pressure,’’ lamented a girl.

A young man came forward to speak up before the crowd, ”I’m looking for a girl with both sense and sensibility. The bank balance doesn’t matter and since I’m going go top of the hill soon, I think it’s time to get a life partner. Let’s appreciate efforts of the BPP by making efforts ourselves”. Colaba residents and friends Vaspan Chichgar and Khushroo Tata wanted to connect positively with the girls and then hopefully a friendship would blossom into marriage. ”It’s better to be friends, get to know the person before jumping into marriage,” says Chichgar who points out that the community suffers a high divorce rate which needs to be controlled. ”I want to increase the Parsi progeny and give back to the community,” he says. Tata who doesn’t live in a colony says that events like these help isolated Parsis who live in cosmopolitan societies to nurture alliances within the community.

Arnavaz Mistry would do well to involve medical intervention within the matchmaking program. This would enlighten the new-generation that hereditary illnesses that seem to proliferate among the Zoroastrian community can and should be wisely and intelligently avoided say experts. Charles Darwin in his theory of evolution proved that the survival of the fittest is nature’s law and this must be kept in mind by the Zoroastrians. Not only quantity but quality of life is significant when endangered species have to be preserved. If the medical aspect is overlooked then the Parsis would do well to develop their own clones as shown in the Hollywood film The Island.

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For 22-year-old Divyesh Trivedi the captain prefix before his name is only of ornamental value. Today, after completing 200 hours of flying, the Dadar-resident works with a BPO. “How else do I pay an EMI of Rs 45,000?’’ he asks. Trivedi says it was the air traffic boom, three years ago that attracted a large number of young students to the sector. But that gap was filled by over 900 expat pilots and those who had retired after the government increased the flying age from 60 to 65. “It hurts when airlines continue to employ foreigners when there are so many qualified Indians waiting for a job,’’ he says.

Recruited on a contractual basis, expat pilots are paid 30-70 % more than their Indian counterparts with a bonus of free accommodation. “Their contracts are being renewed and other expats are still being hired. Why the unfair treatment?’’ he asks. “We want a rollback in the retirement age back to 60,’’ say pilots like Trivedi who have come together and formed the Unemployed Pilots Welfare Association of India this year. “For all government jobs the retirement age is 60, then why is it still 65 for pilots? Isn’t it a security risk since the rarefied atmosphere, fatigue and jetlag can make it tougher for retired pilots to fly?’’ they ask emphasizing the need for all pilots to have quick reflexes. Members network using the Internet and hold meetings like the one at Kalina to make sure they make the right noises, at the right decibels. But when they warn out-of-school freshers against attractive aviation school adverts, they are snapped at with, “You are pulling us down,’’ in return.

So severe is the job drought that even small time airlines are taking advantage of the large number of unemployed who are eager to fly. When Air India advertised for 30 trainee pilot posts, it received more than 1,350 responses and no one was selected because of reported irregularities. Spirit Air in Ranchi, a private air-taxi provider invited applications but charged a fee of Rs 6,000 from every applicant. Other private operators charge heavy deposits for every application, making huge profits in the process and do not even tell the applicant the results. “Recruiters are taking advantage of the jobless and milking us as much as they can,’’ says Dhruv Sen who was asked to show 3,000 hours of flying experience by one recruiter. “It takes almost a year to finish 1000 hours, with each hour costing Rs 7000. It is next to impossible for a newbie who generally completes 200-280 flying hours to have that kind of experience.’’

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Peeto Peeto by Dr K Chaudhry

It all started a few years ago, when the male nightingale from Paschim Vihar started uploading his videos in cyber space as a “humming non-singer’’.  The response was extraordinary. On one hand obscene abuses cluttered his inbox and would have sufficed to break the spirit of any novice singer. On the contrary Chaudhry felt elated that people had made time to post comments because real-time responses from around the world proved to him that he was a singer, good or bad and people were not ignoring him. Some said he sounded like a braying donkey while others said he deserved a music ratna from the government. “Praises please me, abuses amuse me. I feel indebted to every one of you for time spent by you in assessing me as good or bad,’’ he writes in order to allay his fans, some of whom have gone to the extent of forming fan clubs and theme evenings in honour of him and his special talent. They call themselves devotees of the man and currently there are seven fan clubs spread across the world including two in the US with medical doctors for members and an all-pilot group from Singapore. Imitating the video legend, his fans pay tribute at dinner parties and sing James Blunt’s ‘You’re beautiful’ Chaudhry style. He describes his relationship with his USA fan club with 310-strong members as, “This is a carry forward relationship from some past lives. I remained away from you for 63 years. Now we shall remain together until we live together,’’ he writes in response to a video.

But closest to his heart are his fans from Pakistan who first admired his talent. “We Pakistanis are in shock. We used to pride ourselves that we had Ghulam Ali Mehdi Hassan, Noor Jehan, Reshman, and Nusrat Fateh Ali but now we are dumb and speechless,’’ reads a comment on Youtube from across the border. “With the advent of Dr Chaudhry, you Indians have left? us, far behind. We will never catch up, we stand defeated.” But offers to appear for live concerts in Lahore have been dismissed. “I cannot perform without lyrics and a computer screen,’’ he says.

At first glance, one would think, that here is another bathroom singer nodding away but his eyes are wide open behind spectacles that reflect the bright computer screen as he swivels in his chair. An almost ethereal experience grips the viewer as he elegantly pulls off a spoof of Avril Lavigne’s Skater Boy, his personal chartbuster. “I prefer singing songs by female artists,’’ says the Bryan Adams and Mohammed Rafi fan. His grandchildren perch themselves on their silver-haired prodigy, singing along blissfully unaware of the world watching them. They just enjoy the moment.

Fate can do strange things when people’s actions are not governed by financial constraints. An epitome of self-proclaimed “genius’’, this dotard continues to zoom higher up the popularity snorkel. Today, his Internet biodata boasts not only of 30 years of medical practice but also credits him with the creation of a horoscope software, laboratory equipment, a billion webpages and the title of a work addict. Carry on doctor.

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