grass roots

I have been having a lot to do with ration cards lately.The card entitles some people to all kinds of commodities like rice sugar dhal etc and if its not used for two months then the card is cancelled.Considering how difficult it is to get a new one,we normally allowed someone else to use our card to buy stuff as we didn't need so much
Now that my mother lives with me the responsibility of keeping the card active is mine(my dad took care of that and being an old person he got away with a lot).To begin with,ration shops are dark,crumbling places piled high with sacks of everything.Its mostly full of people who either walk there or live close by.Very few people arrive in cars the way I do and that's not a nice thing.It almost makes one feel that one is cheating the lesser mortals of their access to food(never mind that I am entitled to it).With all that guilt(really that's my problem) i park the car a good distance away and walk to the place and stand in line.I start by getting stared at,then they chat me up(convinced that i don't understand the language)and are taken aback when i reply in fluent tamil and continue the conversation.The trick is to identify with the masses so i discuss food prices and crib about how hard it is to make ends meet and so on.I even chat and enquire about the little tykes that accompany the mothers and shuffle my way to the counter where after a few visits I plucked up the courage to ask for all the commodities listed there.
I take care to dress in drab clothes and rubber chappals and look as much at home as my housemaid(and manage it very well).Having gotten over their initial shock,they get curious and soon the chap measuring out the stuff is commenting about my cloth bag which I bring along and encouraging me to buy more stuff and with promises to keep things for me.I am now welcomed with a big smile by counter staff and have become an oddity in the place but have been accepted. Its still not easy standing in long lines in the hot sun but sometimes it needs just such an experience to remind one of the problems and trials of the less fortunate and appreciate what one had,so its time again to go back to the ration shop but i shall wait till the second week when the rush is a little less and once again I will get all the news on what keeps people going on a different plane

The family and the ration card

When one runs up against the bureaucracy,there is only one choice...fall in line.Which is why this morning saw us land up at the family ration card office to apply for one which would in no uncertain terms,establish the fact that we live in this country and in this city so let no one dispute it.Never mind that we also have a passport and a voter id which are all issued by the government.
Having decided to get one we find ourselves faced with three ques of people(no one is sure why they are in a a particular one)and since all of the instructions are in tamil,i decide to be translator so i recall those horrible tamil lessons i endured as a child and begin reading the instructions,by which time the impatient husband has managed to reach some clark and given in his papers.
Now we have no idea what the definition of family is really and as we have decided that the husband will apply in his name and i will not be mentioned,it seems that he is a single man for the purpose of the family ration card.,and there begin our first brush with how difficult it is to be single in this country.They don't issue cards to single people,because by the governments logic you need to be part of a family(as in father mother,children dog etc).So we appeal to the higher authority.I choose to stay behind (trying to look like the other woman may seem hep in some circles but not here and as i cant be identified as wife the best thing to do is to remain invisible).So the conversation goes like this.
senior clark...."why are you single"
husband....smile in resigned fashion
senior clark....ok we don't issue cards to single people....you have to have family...why do you need card?
husband...the gas agency wants proof of my existence.
senior clark(a little foxed by this new development)...do you cook?
husband....(with straight face)I have a cook
senior clark....(having never had such a situation before)...hmm...ok you go and submit papers.
(we heave a collective sigh of relief and move to Que)
after sweating a bit and beginning to smell as bad as the rest of the crowd,we submit papers and get a chit in return,not even a printed receipt.

well now we wait for verification and in the meanwhile we are still trying to figure out how the husband and i are related for the purposes of governance...and as for me,i am still not sure if i should be my mothers daughter or my husbands wife....hey what ever happened to me and my identity....well remember we may be a growing economy,affluence all around,educated independent woman but the reality at the grassroots is still the logic and reasoning of the dark ages....so i wait to be recognised