Dreams of my own

 My sister. My clever sister.

The smartest in the school.

Perhaps in the whole mandal.

Everyone’s hopes are on her

She is the one who will study

She will do the family proud.

Nobody even notices me.

The tiny bougainvillea flower

Eclipsed by my magenta sister.

She has to succeed.

I have to make sure she does;

I am expendable.

When the well dries

I drop out of school 

To fetch water. She studies.

She will achieve success

The family will prosper.

They will no longer be poor.

But what of me?

Am I not allowed 

Dreams of my own?

Doesn't she really care?

“The water situation in my village is terrible”, began my maid, before launching into details of how her village was literally drying up, and of how they were being forced to sell their lifestock.

I was only half listening, but that didn’t stop her. When she exited the kitchen, after washing the dishes, she left the tap leaking.

“Why didn’t you close the tap properly”, I asked, shutting it off.

“It doesn’t close properly”, she replied promptly.

Doesn’t she realize that water saved in the city means more water for the people in her village. Or doesn’t she really care?

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A Drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

When will we get real?

Two days back, we celebrated Earth Day by turning off lights and burning a candle for an hour. That candles were adding carbon dioxide to the atmosphere, we conveniently forgot. And after doing our bit for the planet, we went off to sleep in our air conditioned rooms.

In two days, we will be celebrating the Festival of Colours by pouring buckets full of coloured water on each other. Less than a hundred miles away, the villages are reeling under one of the worst periods of drought in recent years.

When will the disconnect end? When will be get real?

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A Drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Paani, water

When you visit someone, the first thing they do is offer you a glass of cold water. For long, I used to refuse it, because while water is my drink of choice, I do not like it cold. But then I came to realize that the glass of water was not just a glass of water. In a nation where potable water is scarce, it indicated that the family has water at home, and you are important enough for them to share it with you. You honour them by accepting the water, as they do by offering it to you.
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There are words, and there are words. Some words can be easily translated, others need to be described.  In April, I’ll attempt to capture the Soul of 26 'Indian' words in a  drabble of exactly 100 words.

Manolo Blahniks in a tomato field

Tomato is a water intensive crop. You would not expect to see acres of tomato fields in an area which till a few years back faced droughts every year. And yet, that is exactly what you do see.
Why tomato and no other crop, you ask the villagers.
"All those years when we didn't have water to drink, we dreamt of growing tomatos. Now that we get water in our wells, we are living out our dreams", was the answer.

Who knew calling yourself a tomato farmer was as aspirational as owning a pair of Manolo Blahniks? But it is.

_____

A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.
This an other cool Water Facts at Burrowers, Books & Balderdash

Water Facts

There will be more wars fought over water than there have ever been fought over oil, you are often told. I am not sure I agree.
Oil is a luxury that is available and affordable but to a few. No matter what people may believe, we can live without oil.

But Water? Water is a necessity without which neither man nor beast can survive. When we start to run out of water, we start running out of life.

Water Wars, if they come, will make the oil wars look like mere skirmishes. Conserve Water today, so that Day never comes.

_____

A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

I am also over at Burrowers, Books & Balderdash, delusioning about water facts.

Life without essential mod-cons

My kitchen is full of amenities that I take for granted- microwave, grinder, refrigerator, freezer, gas stove, water filter, electric cooker. Things that work on electricity, gas and other utilities that I enjoy without interruption. When I turn a tap, I get water. My water purifier is connected to the mains so drinking water is at the touch of a button.
And yet all I can say, most euphemistically, is that I do not particularly enjoy cooking. How then do women who have to collect firewood from the forest, and walk miles for their water manage to feed huge families?

_____

A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Borrowing from future generations

[Every once in awhile, I get into a despondent mood, and rant. This is one of them.]

A city of twenty million, all the water we use is transported from lakes hundreds of kilometers away. The lucky few get water in their taps, the rest have to buy it from tankers. With water getting scarce, you would think people would converse, but they don't. Rainwater is allowed to drain away, taps leak (including the ones in my house), and fountains are the latest status-symbol.


Taps are running dry, even in cities. We are borrowing water from future generations, with no intention of paying back. When the world runs dry, would we have anyone to blame but ourselves?
_____

A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Fetching Water from the Well

The only running water she knows is the trickle she gets when her daughter pours water from a glass for her to wash her utensils. There is one water pump in her village, but it is almost always dry. Her only reliable source of water is almost mile away.


Every morning, she walks a mile to the common well, and returns balancing pots of water on her head. Every evening, she repeats the journey.

But she doesn't complain, because her friends make the trips with her, and they have their special songs which they sing on the way and back.
_____

A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Bombay is a city where.....

[This post is a part of Blog Action Day 2010- Water. 
Blog Action Day is an annual event held on October 15, that unites bloggers from around the world in posting about the same issue on the same day with the aim of sparking a global discussing and driving collective action. This is the third year that I have been been participating in this movement.]

Bombay is a city where.....

...the rich don't pay for running water, while the poor spend a fifth of their income buying water from tankers....

...lakes run dry every summer, even as the city gets waterlogged after the slightest rainfall....

...sewer lines often burst near water lines, and the poshest localities get 'drinking' water unfit even for washing cars...

...practically every house has a built in storage tank, but few invest in rainwater harvesting facilities...

...rainwater is allowed to drain into the sea, while pipes bring water from hundreds of miles away.

If there is a solution, it eludes me.


__________

A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Water leaking from tankers transporting water to drought prone localities 

Lack of access to hygienic water takes lives- through wars fought over water, and through water-borne diseases. Make a difference- blog about it, sign a petition, and consider making a donation- even $10 can save a life.

Rain, rain go away, and an Award

"In case of emergency, cut rope" says the hoarding.
How many of the city's millions can the raft hold?

I haven't seen rains like this in the city in a very long time. Officially, the Monsoons last for a little over three months from mid-June to end-September, but in reality, the city gets a few days of heavy rain followed by a week or two of only mild showers.

The Monsoon hit the city early this year, and poured almost continuously for nearly two weeks. I was certain the rainfall meant for the entire season was used up in those few weeks, and that we would only have mild showers after that. But I, like every other self-appointed meteorologist in the city, was in for a surprise- this has been one long season of days of heavy rain alternating with days of mild rain- there have been practically no dry days in the last three months.

Auto-rickshaws don raincoats to protect
passengers from the rain and splashing puddles

"Why is the sky crying so much?", the kids keep asking me. They are fed up of being cooped up indoors, and no longer find much pleasure in splashing through puddles. I wish I knew- all I know is that it is one mega tantrum the sky has been throwing.

It wouldn't be too bad if the rains did not disrupt life in the city the way they actually do- waterlogged roads, slowing down of public transport, soaring vegetable prices because transportation trucks are affected, a sudden spurt in water-borne diseases. I guess we should be happy we don't have floods, the way other parts of the subcontinent do.

Rain, rain, go away. We have enough water in our reservoirs to last us till next year.
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The Awards seem to keep building up, so maybe it makes sense to pass them on as they come, rather than wait to first clear the ones I am hoarding.

Alex of Alex J. Cavanaugh passed on the SuperCommenter Award. It doesn't seem to come with any strings attached and I pass in onto Margot Kinberg of Confessions of a Mystery Novelist. She is the Professor of Mystery Writing, and for the longest time, I was so much in awe of her obvious brilliance, I never even dared leave a comment. I am glad I stopped lurking, because I now know that she is as wonderful a person as she is bright.

Water for Plants

I am filled with amazement everytime I pass this garden.

An entire family lives in the one room shack- there is barely enough room for them all to lie down comfortably in at night. The only water the family knows is from the drums that are filled with water bought from tankers every alternate day.

And yet, they have potted plants on the corrugated sheet that makes up the roof of their house, and they share the little water they have with the plants. If that is not love for plants, I don't know what is.