Dress me up....with Style, with Goonj

Girls Girls Girls...we are obsessed with clothes, we love junk jewellery, we love humongous glares, we lurve our fuschia pinks, parrot greens and electric blues. We like the Amritsari jutti and the Hush Puppies, just as much. The Latte and the Bhutta, both look equally yummm in our hands...now, now.

Delhi is known world over for having the best chic-magnet markets, shopping areas, style sense, fashionistas, informal hangouts and the most vibrant summers, be it street-vendors or showroom-shoppers (mostly window),  or the 'just chill'-dudes.

You want it...Delhi's got it.

I remember, back in my fucchha days of college, when we were still getting the hang of being an Archi, my teacher once said, "If you have to be an architect, you have to be as labourious as an ant, and as attentive as girls on a shopping spree". We all giggled (predictable), because we knew exactly what he meant. Sadly, the guys didn’t, most still don't. Can't blame them, because when they take their girls out shopping, they fret and fume over why the womenfolk took so much time to make up their mind, and the girls fret and fume too...because its stressful to decide when there's too much to choose from, or too little to choose from, and also if there is too much that you want but can't afford....(mostly it’s the latter that’s frustrating)

Phew...It Was Stressful!

Let me explain, courtesy this Facebook illustration my friends once uploaded :

How do guys and girls see colours--------------------

THIS is what it meant!

God seems to have blessed the Female with the ability to scrutinize each and every commodity with such great detail, that it could drive men insane.... and let’s not blame them; their eye to brain coordination doesn’t go beyond the sports' field or bird watching! 
They just function differently. 

I remember, when I was young, my parents were very simple and pushed us more towards studying and hardly on my dressing. I was constantly conscious of myself when I was out in public because whenever I went to birthday parties, more often than not, I repeated clothes. Buying clothes was sacrosanct as we were taken out only once every year to buy two pairs of new clothes for the whole year: 

One for Deepavali, and One for the Birthday.

And I waited for shopping day with such eagerness...it was unnerving! 

Me and my brother used to endlessly make a list of all the possible permutations and combinations we could achieve by choosing the right pair of  tops and bottom, and I was obviously much more articulate....I mean for girls, there was just such a plethora to choose from...The math was of monumental value (Forgive me the melodrama)

It could be a skirt, but the top had to be common for both trousers and skirts, and the other set could be Jeans and top or dungarees or a frock, for special occasions...and the list was editted, shortlisted and FINALLY, two sets used to make it to the end.

And we were a fairly comfortable Middle Class Family.

As I entered college my parents realized that nothing could stop me from being a Girlie (just imagine!)... I too loved dressing up, and I too loved looking the part. Of course, I never overdid it, but the sheer freedom to choose my clothes was empowering...really. It helped me define my own style and my own personality and really made me more confident.

My friend’s mother once spoke to my mom and the two ladies, in their moment of motherly (mamata bhare) discussion, were discussing their daughters. When my mom expressed her shock on my sudden inclination towards shopping and clothes, my friend’s mom was surprised at her. She simply said, "Mrs. Iyengar, if you want your kids to feel good, you got to let them look good. I agree it has limits, and our kids know their limits. But honestly, let her do as much as she needs to feel confident to move out...its peer pressure you know."

And that was it, it was Peer Pressure.

There was pressure to look good, feel good, speak well; walk good...being a teenager was stressful in itself and having to deal with Mom's issues…it was too much.

But that perspective changed when I got over myself, when wearing casuals and not uniforms became normal. When the initial overwhelm wore out, I realized that it was merely a fascination. Janpath, Lajpat, Sarojini, and Kamla Nagar too became window shopping addas, and Dressing up or Dressing down wasn't as much of a cool-factor anymore.

And then Goonj happened. I was back from college and had gained a perspective on things,like they say…

We came across a banner one day dangling over a nearby tree outside a neighbourhood school asking people to donate whatever clothes, used, unused, spare, gadgets, blankets, chappals, shoes, napkins, bottle, books, pages, pencils…anything and everything which they thought they didn’t need. And it said Goonj in big black words.

I collected a few things and got to the venue on time on the day of collection and realized there were truckloads of donations from people. A volunteer spoke to us about how Goonj started. It was merely a thought that had popped up when a guy, a founder, saw street kids walking around with no footing or scanty clothes in the cold. 

A 20 rupee hawai chappal that was just so L.S. for us…it was a luxury for some.

The thought was perennial and brave. And all I was doing was giving away things I didn’t need. And it would benefit those who didn’t have anything they needed. Soon we made many more trips to these camps. We still do it when we can.

I searched more on the foundation and found out that what we discard as waste clothes, Goonj used them for street kids, especially during harsh winters; they used it for the development issue in rural India (a concept of Shramdaan- where you do labour and get the community involved in development), as a bridge between rural and urbane schools in the country etc. They were doing work as intrinsically sensitive as empowering and educating women to use cloth and cotton to make sanitary napkins, these women hadn’t heard of any sanitary napkins for crying out loud! They used paper, tissue, ash (the thought is a horror in itself) and god knows what other atrocity to get through their menstrual.

That thought stayed with me, and I am sure you don’t need to be a girl or a guy to understand the torment that these women and children went through if they didn’t even cover their vitals that counted as basics for survival…its plain agony.

And so each time I donate my clothes, my books or my slippers to Goonj instead of waiting for them to tater and shred, till they can’t be used anymore, I feel a sense of empowerment...and not in a typical "Nari Mukti Morcha" kind of way, but more like 'womano-a-womano'. 

I feel like if I am helping even one girl in some 'oolu' place somewhere, cover herself essentially, and one woman somewhere protect herself from her torment, to the say the least; even if it is just one…I can live with that. And this is not a promotional ad, it’s just something too personal…

Visit: http://goonj.org/ , if you are in the least interested…

Jaan - Pehchaan

Jaan – pehchaan

In the times of social networking, where we have the liberty of making ‘friends’ with just one click of a button and also separating them into categories like ‘close’ ones or ‘acquaintances’ (although, now we have the freedom to ‘unfriend’ them also), we, at Panwadi Tales, would like to stick to the basics. Thanks to our rich culture, we have in our blood, the habit of making friends with almost everyone. “Arey! Uski bahut jaan – pehchaan hai!”, is an expression which acts as a ‘status-symbol’ in the society like ours. Right from the M.L.A. of the District to the person who updated you on India’s score against Australia in the last match, sitting next to you in the bus.. We are friends to every one!

Thus, to keep up this tradition and to expand our ‘friends-circle’, we introduce ourselves:

Ar. Anusha Narayanan

She is the ‘think-tank’ and initiator of this blog. A person full of zest and ideas, ideas to do something new always; One who is not satisfied easily and thus keeps on looking for more! An Architect by profession and living as she takes it seriously, graduated from School of Architecture & Landcscape Design, Katra, J&K, a writer by passion, who loves to move around and explore new places and ‘spaces’, the ‘new’ might include old ruins too, a Tam-Brahm with an attitude of a impure Delhite, one who loves family and friends & one who enjoys dancing and singing, she’s currently with her pals on this chit-chat journey, exploring, and bringing to notice – ‘The Details of Life’!

Divya Sharma

Hard to define, but sometimes, in a moment of simplicity she can be boldly obvious. Not too good at reading between lines, but quite adept at writing with hidden undertones between her lines. A passionate basket-baller, an aspiring social servant, a photographer and a writer in her secret life, a Himachali half-Rajput, and a thoroughbred Delhite, an IT engineer and a soon-to-be MBA grad from BVIMR- Delhi, she plans to venture into social entrepreneurship. Someday she hopes to reinvent herself truly, as and when the timing is right. As of now it’s nothing too big...just baby steps leading her to her calling.

Dishant Bhatia

"Sasuri Dilli, kaat kaleja leh gayi...", thats him... an avid traveller, a pure-hearted photographer and a true romantic. He has an eye for detail- being an architect in the making of course, not just an eye, a lens, an arm, a leg and a head full of it too; and a cheery disposition to make friends with anyone and everyone. He loves Delhi and Mumbai: the vada pao and the chhole-bhaturey, in their entirety- which is contrary to popular belief that no person can love both cities equally, with his unconventional liberal mind - he does. He is currently pursuing his Bachelor’s in Architecture from SMVD University, Jammu & Kashmir. Among his many achievements has been the applause and appreciation he received at the recently concluded IIID Showcase Exhibition at Mumbai, March 2012, for his photographic genius: “Order in Chaos”. A multifaceted, attentive, inquisitive, creative and well-informed civilian, he’s many virtues in one body. And, by Jove, his eye meets more simple pleasures everyday than we can think of.

Salonee Chadha

Do not be mistaken by her sane exteriors! We have a serious hunch that her thick curls are a reaction her head had to those thoughts running haywire inside! Curly haired Delhite-bred Ms.Sunshine who on any regular day,has oodles of unexpressed craziness and unexplored excitement generated from the smallest of things, wrapped inside. An aspiring architect who got acquainted to us during her architectural internship, pursuing her B.Arch. from Sushant School of Architecture, the acquaintance has helped all three share newer experiences and realms of FUN. She is an avid reader and relishes the vintage Print-Media more than the Digital in today's day and age. Punjabi Loud is so not her style, but neither is the Urbane Suave, its somewhere in between the two. More like Punjabi yet Suave who enjoys being a "Retro-Drama Queen" to cut away from the sanity of life...our very own Chadha Sahab!

New Beginnings - Shri Ganesh

Dearest All,

Some would ask why the name,"Panwadi tales"? There is a beauty to the feeling of being a local, familiar with the streets , lanes and gullies that the word generates, something that is undiluted and Local about it, nothing cosmoplitan, nothing classy, nothing elegant- Just Plain Street.

There is nothing more commonplace than Panwadi ki Dukaan at the chowk, the nukkad, or across the gully. And there is no dearth of Chaurasia Paanwala's in the city I call home- Delhi. But then there are those who wouldn't bother even asking about the name and they are the real subjects of this Blog.

The I'm-too-cool-to-notice group...Oh yeah!

Notice how, when we walk the streets, we feel the most ease in walking up to the Panwadi for directions(despite what guys may say about their navigation skills, they do it too!). In any city, locality, or neighbourhood, be it in any state of India, they are a perpetual given. They're always there, always helpful, and mostly mind their own business, not so much of bleak-holes. A Panwadi on any given day meets hundreds of people from all walks of life: from the Spoilt Brat to the Nouveau Riche, from the under-aged to the elder folk, from the Hukkah to the Beedi, from the shy guy who scrams as soon as he's done buying his daily smoke, to the unabashed girl who ups her cool factor by walking up through the male-dominated swarm....a panwadi meets them all.

So to me , a Panwadi symbolises that part of the Indian streetscape that remains unchanged through time and place and transcends the superficial class-creed barriers; a freedom we all share as people. Something that the rich and poor have equal access to. Someone whom you see everyday, you walk past blindly, you blissfully ignore, and you only realize his significance when you walk up to him in the middle of the night for petty change for your auto ride (A situation I face almost everyday because the rickshaw drivers of Delhi find new ways of tormenting us daily... they never have change, and they always overcharge...but that's a different story).

The Panwadi to me was reminiscent of the Meetha Paan(kattha, gulkand and calcatta patta) when I was ten, a rebellious dare to walk up and ask for a Smoke in a truth-or-dare with friends when I was fifteen, a hive for miscreants when I turned eighteen, and a permanent entity I used as an ATM for small change when I turned twenty-four.That's exactly what this blog is about.

We, I and a few like-minded friends, began the thought of writing about the smaller pleasures of life, the innocent joys, that we step over each day. Things that we walk past everyday, but their shear beauty gets lost simply because we never take the time to think about it, or even evaluate it as an entity worthy of our attention. Things we could consider small, or we could also give them a minute of our attention and see their blatant boldness.

Lets count things,

Would you know how many shades of yellow and orange are there in your green grapes?

Would you know how little the fingers are that made that ethnic purse you were carrying?

Would you know how many people fought to keep that place from demolision...the one you just spat on?

Would you know how many different formations of clouds are there in the Thar...the rain thirsty desert?

Would you know that people actually donate clothes to street dogs in harsh winters in Delhi?

Would you know that Street food may be more hygenic than Fast Food?

Would you know where the street-performers hang out in your city?

Would you know where to dispose your e-junk near your home, instead of the dumpster?

Would you know how many of your public parks have become junkyards, uncleaned and unnoticed?

Would you know how many types of Paan are there?

Would you know how many types of Kaala-Khaata are there?

Would you know where to get Manchurian Dosa?

I wouldn't know most of these too...but what I do want to explore is the idea of writing about all those seemingly little people, places, incidents and events we walk past everyday. That which we have easy access to and turn a blind eye to, that may seem little or even minuscule to us, because we are too busy to notice. I just want to explore. So lets just keep this about exploring "The Smaller Pleasure in life" as Devadeep Gupta (alias DD) put it.

And I wish you could join us.