Author: Shobhaa De
Publication: The Times of India
Date: June 6, 2004
You know what? I'm having a little
problem with my inner voice. People who are experts on the subject (over
night!!), tell me I'm not paying enough attention to my conscience or my
children's sage advice. Maybe, they're right. This inner voice thing
is a little new to me. I guess it's a little new to all of us, in India.
Maybe, it's different in Italy. Maybe Italian ladies are better trained
to keep their ears out for inner voices that eventually determine
their destiny I have enough problems with my outer voice which can be annoyingly
harsh and strident, even to my own ears. But ever since the inner voice
debate hit international headlines, I've been trying and trying to tune
into my own. I, believe I half succeeded last night. But the news
wasn't at all good. Since then, I have told my inner voice to shut up and
go to hell. Leave me alone, I've repeatedly commanded.
The problem with most inner voices
is that one can't muffle them. Nor can one don ear plugs. Which means,
my irritating whingeing, whining, needling voice refuses to go away and
let me sleep peacefully at night. Tired of this nonsense, I sought immediate
help. At first, I consulted my friendly neighbourhood shrink. Oh doctor,
I'm in trouble, I started. Well, goodness gracious me, he replied. Dear,
Dear we were stuck in a Peter Sellers comedy here. I called up a couple
of girl friends. (Sushma, Uma) and asked worriedly, do you guys hear inner
voices or is it just me and of course a lovely lady in Delhi? Sushma/Uma
harrumphed and threatened to shave their heads/ grow beards/pierce their
belly buttons.
Then, I turned to someone I completely
trust. He doesn't read newspapers (illiterate), occasionally watches
T.Y (Bangla, only), and generally minds his own business. His name is Anil
(pronounced Oh Neel), and he makes sure our family is well fed. Tell me,
I asked Anti, as he stirred, the maccher jhol gently Do you or your wife
ever listen to your inner voices do you even possess an inner voice? Be
frank. Without looking up, Anil replied, "Oh yes. I listen to mine very
often. It gives me good advice generally" And your wife? "Definitely. Her
inner voice is much better than mine. "It tells us to know our limitations.
I cook in your house. Tomorrow I may say I want to become a big cook in
a five star hotel. Will anyone accept me? Or I might suddenly decide to
start cooking differently. Make French /Italian/German food. Do I
know the recipes? Am I an expert in those cuisines? WW you eat it what
I cook?" Wise man, this Anil of ours. "
That is very clever, indeed, I marvelled.
Anil shook his head. "Not clever, madam. It is called survival. If tomorrow
we start thinking we are too great, we will definitely lose our head. And
then lose our jobs. It is good to know one's place in life." With that
said, he went back to stirring. And, 1 to my internal dialogue. Anil
looks a happy sort of chap. In his own way, and in his own eyes, he is
successful too. Clearly, he has his priorities well figured out. And he
knows where to draw the line. I asked Anil one final question.
Do you want to go abroad and become
a master chef in Italy? "No," Anil said quickly, "I don't know the language.
I don't know the culture. I will be a complete misfit. The people themselves
will reject me. Not in the beginning, may be, but definitely later." You
will never be tempted, then? "Not unless I'm given full and absolute control
over the Italian kitchen. And local people call me dada." He has the perfect
recipe for success. Smart. Shrewd, too. Maybe Anil has some Italian blood
in him?
Meanwhile, I am all ears. I think
my inner voice is trying to tell me something. Excuse me while I tune in.
