Penalty shoot out decided the finalist after two hours of play that day and it was past 6 PM here in Toronto. Our dog Maximus was getting restless as this evening walk was getting delayed. I took out a plastic bag, leashed Maximus and off we went on our regular walking trail to the city center.
The city center of Mississauga (Canada) has Celebration Square in front of the City Hall (Office of the Mayor,) where many community events like musical shows, yoga classes, aerobics, demonstration of city’s upcoming projects like the light rail etc are held in summer evenings. All FIFA World Cup matches were projected on two huge screens on either sides of the stage and being vacation time for schools, many parents and children congregated there to enjoy the matches (stadium effect.) In winter it gets converted into a skating rink. The Celebration Square is about five minutes walk from our home.
I expected that the crowd must have vanished by the time we reached the Celebration Square as it was fifteen minutes after it was decided that Argentina will meet Germany in the final. To my surprise I found a gathering of about 250 people of all ages in front of the stage. The Sergeant from the City’s Paramedics was conducting a lecture cum demonstration on Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation (CPR). We stood there to watch the proceedings.
There were school kids and adults practicing CPR on manikins (one shared between two or three) provided by the St John’s Ambulance team. The staff and volunteers from the St John’s Ambulance were assisting the participants to practice CPR on their manikins. There were many little kids who might have had no interest in CPR, gathered around Maximus and started petting him and playing around with him while their parents and siblings practised CPR.
My mind went back to my days as a Team Leader in the call center I worked after landing in Canada. All team leaders are required to be certified in CPR and First Aid as per the company policy and I also had to attend the class. I presumed I had some knowledge about it, but after the class I felt ashamed about my shallow knowledge of CPR was (after commanding a unit of the Indian Army) and that I did not know the use of a defibrillator, which are placed at all public places in the city like offices, malls, movie halls, swimming pools, etc.
Our children have undergone training on CPR and First Aid while at school. Our son Nikhil, working as a life guard and swimming instructor with the city had to qualify the third level of CPR and First Aid. My wife Marina, being a Pharmacist also had to qualify in CPR and First Aid. They have to re-qualify every two years to maintain the validity of their certification.
The final match of any Regimental or Formation level tournament is attended by all ranks, their wives and children. After the prize distribution we generally hold a High Tea. It would be good idea to have a fifteen minute class on such subjects after the game.
Human life is very precious and a very small action or effort can save a life provided you have knowledge of how to administer CPR and First Aid.
Maintaining a pet in Canada/USA is a serious matter and needs lot of effort and care by the pet owners. The Municipal laws requires that all dogs and cats owned must be licensed and wearing a tag. Licensing helps prevent against rabies outbreaks by requiring a certificate of vaccination for all dogs over the age of 4 months. All the animals must be neutered/spayed prior to licensing in order to ensure population control. By licensing your dog or cat, Animal Services will make every effort to reunite you with your pet if it gets lost. There is a normally a limit laid down for the maximum numbers of pets that you can own.
The laws also specify that while on any private or public property, you got to pick up after your pet and the dog must be kept on a leash no more than two metre long and you must be holding onto the leash. The owner of a dog is liable for a bite on another person or animal. If your dog is continuously barking or whining and disturbing your neighbours, you can be fined under the Noise Bylaw.
There are many veterinary clinics dotting the city and there is a pet emergency hospital providing services 24 hours. The Canadian government provides medical cover for all the citizens, but not for your pets and hence every visit to the veterinarian will ease a few hundred dollars.
The veterinary clinics will maintain all health records of the pets and the pharmacy will maintain all the medications dispensed. To facilitate searching the database for the pet’s record, it is practice to give the pet also a last name, which is your family name. Hence our dog is named Maximus Koduvath. In case the pharmacy pulls up records of Koduvaths, the dog’s name will also popup. Why not? He is also a member of the family.
Once Maximus ingested some poison and had to be taken to the pet emergency hospital. We called up the hospital and the moment we reached there with Maximus, there were two attendants waiting with a stretcher to roll him in. They carried out a stomach wash and the entire event made me poorer by $400.
While waiting for Maximus at the hospital, there was an elderly couple also sitting there. I got into a conversation with them and they told me that their ten year dog had developed some kidney complications and is being operated upon. I casually asked them about the cost of the procedure and behold – they were expecting anything to the tune of $6000 upwards.
Due to constant pestering by the children for a dog (we got Maximus because of the same), a friend of ours settled the deal with the children for a cat, being less costly and easy to maintain. It takes much less effort to maintain a cat as unlike a dog, one does not have to take the cat for a walk in the morning and evening (a pretty difficult task during the freezing Canadian winter). One day a car ran over the cat, and the car driver called the Animal Services and they immediately dispatched a blue-cross ambulance, which picked up the injured cat and moved it to the pet emergency. The Animal Services called up the owner (based on the information retrieved using the license tag) and informed him about the condition of the animal and the hospital where it was.
The owner rushed to the hospital and he was informed that the cat needed urgent life saving surgery which would cost a minimum of $3000. The owner thought if it was back home he would have buried the cat by now and would never cost him a penny. He did not want to part with $3000, that too for a cat. He wanted a cheaper option and the hospital offered to carryout euthanasia and would cost him $500. He immediately settled for the second option and made the payment and drove back home.
During my visit to India in 2012, I traveled from Thiruanathapuram to Kollam in Kerala on the State Transport bus. The ticket was for Rs 9 and I handed over a Rs 10 currency note to the conductor. I requested the conductor to drop me off at a particular stop and when the bus reached my stop, the conductor stopped the bus and nodded me to get off. I went to the conductor, and he put his hand into to his bag, may be to return Re 1 which he owed me. I said “Thank You” for his service of dropping me off at the correct stop. The conductor gave a flabbergasted look – Is it that he never expected someone to thank him for a such service?
After landing in Canada, one day I asked our son to make me a cup of coffee, which he did immediately. He brought it to my table, and I took a sip, continuing to read the book I was immersed in. Our son waited for a few seconds and said “Welcome”. It really knocked me down. Then our son said – “What does it cost you to say THANK YOU?”
I learnt this value from the Canadian society, as they always express their gratitude for any little service or help one does for someone else, even if it may not be from the bottom of one’s heart. Canadians are well known for their courteous behaviour. Modern Canadian children are usually permitted to be relatively outspoken and independent from a young age. They may speak to adults, even teachers or parents, in the same casual style they use for friends. The same is mostly true for employer-employee relations, and maintaining a friendly workplace where everyone acts as if they are on the same level.
I for one hardly ever thanked anyone during my days working in India; mainly subordinates for any help they rendered. I hardly appreciated anyone for any work done by them. We are very poor at appreciating our children and subordinates – may be thinking that it will spoil them. It does not cost anything; but may make a day for the person who gets appreciated. Everyone wants to be appreciated.
When our son graduated from Grade 8 (Middle School, they have a graduation ceremony – to instill in the students that they are going to High School next and got to be more serious about it and that the fun time is over. He was the valedictorian and after he gave his valedictory address all the Canadian parents stood up and gave a standing ovation and all parents from our sub-continent kept slitting. We even ration appreciation for a small kid.
This ‘rationing’ approach to appreciation for our children, I feel has come from the society back home. Recently my wife confessed that she realised how incorrect she was in bringing up our daughter when back home; how she used to castigate our daughter for the 8% marks she lost in her test, rather than appreciating her for the 92% she scored. This may be the result of my wife’s upbringing back home that one must get 100% in all tests, whether the child has interest in that subject or the child is capable of achieving it.
Many children had to hide their interests in non-academic activities like poem writing, story writing, arts, sports etc because the parents never encouraged any distractions from their academic goals. Any inclination to a non-academic activity was severely condemned and brutally nipped in the bud. Had the parents and children followed the academic model in North America, we would have surely produced many a great in all fields of life.
The major impediment back home is the way the marks of all tests are announced publicly in the class and to make the situation worse, the teachers tend to pass unwarranted comments along with it. This is further complicated by the boastful parents who announce to the world as to how their child scored high marks and what the scores of other children were. In the Canadian schools, test results are never displayed or announced and are kept confidential.
Attending the Parent-Teacher interviews used to be very scary back home as one often heard only complaints about our wards and hardly any words of appreciation. The Parent-Teacher interviews in Canada, one experienced the opposite. It was more of a celebration of the hard work and achievement of the child, and it always begun with “Your son is doing really well ...”
The Canadians are stereotyped as being excessively, or even absurdly polite, even if not entirely warranted. They never miss an opportunity to appreciate or compliment while Canadians deal with one another. Mrs Lalita George, wife of Late Colonel Raju George, while on her visit to Niagara, was really taken aback when a girl at a ticket counter appreciated the handbag she was carrying. The girl asked her about the source and when informed that it was from India, she expressed her dream of visiting India after her graduation.
On receiving the progress report of our son, I (may be because of my upbringing back home), enquired from our son as to how others in their class had performed. He said that it was indecent to ask others in the class what their grades were and in case I had to see the class performance, the mean and median for each subject is given in the report card. That was when I realised the application of those statistical terms we were taught in school.
Every year for Christmas, I fly to India to spend a few days with my mother. On arrival in India, the first person one mostly deals with is the immigration authority at the counter. Almost all the countries I have been, these immigration authorities are mostly pleasant and very courteous. The interaction with them generally culminates with “Welcome to (their country)”. Anyone who has ever passed through the Indian Immigration counters will always have the opposite story to narrate. I often felt that the Ministry of External Affairs has imparted special training to all those who man the immigration counters, to be putting up with such morose faces and least courteous conversation. The final look they give you while returning the documents almost conveys ‘Why the hell are you back?’
So please think it over and make small efforts at your level – it may make a difference to someone, and it does not cost you anything.
It was heartening to see the Japanese fans, after witnessing their team lose to Greece in the FIFA World Cup Match in Brazil on 19 June 2014, and also in Russia 2018, set an example of true sportsmanship by cleaning up the stadium of all the garbage left there. This habit of correct disposal of garbage got to be nurtured at home – a habit that needs to be inculcated in all the citizens – irrespective of age. In India, you keep your home clean, but throw the garbage in the street or in any vacant area and the cities do not have a garbage collection policy or methodology.
In Canada and USA, this habit begins at home (some exceptions –especially from the immigrants from the sub-continent), and is further firmed up at the school. This is where the children are made aware of their responsibility to ensure a clean environment and also respect the mother nature. The children are taught the correct procedures for sorting and disposing garbage.
Garbage collection in Canada is the municipal responsibility and is collected on a weekly basis. The limits are laid down by the city. In our city the limits per home are two bags (each not more than 20 kg) of general unsorted garbage, recyclables – unlimited (Blue Box), compostable (Green Box)- unlimited and yard waste (Brown Paper Bag) – unlimited, but collected on seasonal basis. Only catch is that one got to segregate the garbage according to the above classes and put them in separate special bins provided by the city. Do not worry, nothing comes free in North America (there is no “raddiwala” who will ever pay for your garbage). We pay a heavy house tax to the municipality for these services. Any hazardous goods, or any heavy garbage is to be taken to the recycling centre and they charge you for accepting your garbage.
Studies in the City of Mississauga, where we live, indicate that the average household generates 567 kg/year of waste, of which 34 percent is garbage, 13 percent is recyclable and 45 percent is organics.
The general garbage is incinerated and the heat produced runs a steam turbine and electricity is generated. Some cities use landfills too. The recyclables are recycled and the compost is sold to the residents at a minimal cost, after due decomposition.
At every school, mall, park, bus shelter, restaurant etc, where ever garbage may be generated, you will always see garbage bins – with different buckets for waste and recyclables. Anyone depositing garbage are expected to do so in the specific bins (here again people from the sub-continent are the culprits).
Only problem of applying the same in India is that the general garbage and the compostable will have to be picked up on a daily basis as the day temperatures are much higher when compared to Canada. It may also put some raddiwalas out of business too.
Goodwill Stores. Reducing the amount of waste we generate by reusing and recycling items instead of discarding them helps save natural resources, conserves energy and decreases the need for landfill. Any household items that are gently used and in working condition, consider giving them a new home instead of throwing them in the garbage. We drop off our reusable old clothes, books, toys, household appliances and furniture at a store run by the city or at the Recycling Centers. They clean them and in case found fit for reuse, will sell them at a very cheap price to the needy – and the name of the store is “GOODWILL”. When we landed in Canada we stayed in the basement apartment of a house and all our furniture came from the same “GOODWILL” store. It was a real GOODWILL.
The 5Rs Waste Hierarchy.
RETHINK – your waste and adopt environmentally-friendly practices!
REDUCE – the amount of waste you produce.
REUSE – materials repeatedly.
RECYCLE – materials through the Blue Box or Green Bin Programs or donate them to a Community Recycling Centre so that others can create new uses for them.
RECOVER – refers to generating energy-from-waste (e.g. through landfill gas-to-energy).
Organics Recycling. Organic material includes such things as food waste and used tissues or paper towels. Organics recycling diverts this material from landfill by converting it into a useful end product – compost. In 2012 the city diverted almost 51 per cent of waste through the first 4Rs and recovered an additional 25 per cent by converting waste to energy.
About two-thirds of the solid waste collected in Mississauga is incinerated at the Algonquin Power Energy-from-Waste facility – a 15 Acre complex located within the city limits. A clean and efficient operation that not only gets rid of the waste but also generates 9 megaWatt of electricity, enough to provide power for up to 6,000 homes. At temperatures in excess of 1,000ºC, most of the waste is vaporized but, just like burning wood in a fireplace. There is always some ash created in the combustion process. Not too much of a problem for a wood burning stove but a considerable problem when you are incinerating 18,000 truckloads of waste a year. The by-products include 40,000 ton bottom ash and 3,000 ton fly ash. Bottom ash is a non-hazardous by-product of combustion, a glassy, sand like material of melted sand and lime, with smaller amounts of oxides. It is disposed in the local landfill or used as an aggregate in hot mix asphalt or is blended with other aggregates, but is usually less durable than conventional aggregates.
The exhaust gas leaving the boilers is directed to two parallel air pollution trains which are designed to absorb 90 per cent of the acid gases by the injection of hydrate lime and to remove 99.9 per cent of all particulate using fabric filter bag houses. Continuous emission monitors are utilized both for control and monitoring of the flue gases. These units are calibrated automatically each day and quarterly audits and annual relative accuracy tests are conducted.
One day, our teenage son Nikhil walked up to me and asked if he could borrow my wife-beater.
I completely lost my composure. Shocked, I immediately told him that I had never beaten his mother, nor did I ever intend to do so! (I stopped short of admitting that while the idea had sprouted in my mind once or twice during a few heated moments, good sense had always prevailed over impulse).
Seeing my utter predicament, our son burst out laughing and explained the terminology. He just wanted the sleeveless white vest I used to wear back in India. You hardly see anyone wearing them here in Canada—likely due to the colder weather and significantly lower perspiration levels.
He explained that the American TV show COPS had a lot to do with popularising the term. Every time the show featured a man being arrested for domestic violence, he seemed to be wearing that exact style of sleeveless vest.
As the story goes, the term traces back to 1947 in Detroit, Michigan. A local man named James Hartford Jr was arrested for beating his wife to death. The media aired his mugshot for months—showing him in a sleeveless undershirt—constantly branding him the wife-beater. The name, unfortunately, stuck to the garment.
To me, however, that simple white sleeveless vest—the humble banian—was a marvel of utility. I always admired it for the immense service it rendered. It never cared where it ended up, even after its owner had exploited it to the hilt and thrown it out. In an Indian household, a retired banian achieves a second life, usually reincarnating as a shoe-shining cloth, a mop, or a kitchen duster. After all, why discard such high-quality, pure white cotton?
I never understood why people in hot climates wore more layers than absolutely necessary, but the banian proved its worth by absorbing sweat. Sure, it got wet and felt momentarily uncomfortable, but it acted as an impregnable barrier. It stopped sweat from seeping through to the outer layer of my Olive Green (OG) uniform. Leaving white salt stains on a uniform shirt after the sweat dried was considered highly un-soldierly. Moreover, my skin hated the scratchy texture of the heavy OG fabric; the faithful banian maintained a comfortable buffer between the uniform and my skin.
Some of my army friends preferred banians with sleeves, but I always stuck to the sleeveless version to avoid the dreaded Sunday is longer than Monday syndrome. This happens when the sleeves of your undershirt creep out from underneath the shorter sleeves of your uniform or T-shirt—a terrible look for a soldier.
My relationship with the garment started early. When I joined Sainik School Amaravathinagar in Tamil Nadu at the tender age of nine, my trunk packed by my parents contained a dozen banians. We had to wear them for morning Physical Training (PT) so the instructors could monitor our physical growth and check for skin infections. This strict PT dress code followed me through the National Defence Academy (NDA) and the Indian Military Academy (IMA). It was only when I was commissioned as an officer that I transitioned to wearing a white T-shirt for PT, while the jawans continued training in their faithful banians. Even so, I loved the feel of the banian clinging to my skin and wore one under my clothes at all times.
When I joined my regiment, my Buddy (helper) was Sepoy Hukum Chand. He served me with the utmost dedication, love, and care. Hukum Chand was my accountant, personal assistant, bodyguard, radio operator, and buddy rolled into one. He managed my entire life: waking me up, preparing my morning tea, keeping my cigarettes stocked, and prepping my uniform, room, wardrobe, and evening attire.
This seamless arrangement lasted for seven years—until the seven-year itch erupted. I got married.
Suddenly, Hukum Chand’s authority over my wardrobe was challenged. One evening, my wife Marina flatly disapproved of the suit Hukum Chand had laid out for a party, noting that it clashed with her saree. A silent battle of wills ensued. My wife won, Hukum Chand lost, and the dynamic of my wardrobe changed forever.
During our bachelordom years, Hukum Chand had closely observed my habit of wearing a banian at all times. Every six months, he purchased a fresh dozen from the regimental canteen. Since he was my accountant, he paid for them using my money, leaving me completely oblivious to the expense.
When I finally asked why on earth we needed new banians every six months, he explained his logic. The brackish water used by the washerman turned the white fabric yellow after repeated washes. Instead of throwing them out, Hukum Chand snipped off the shoulder straps, cut open the torso, and repurpose them into polishing rags.
He used them to shine my leather boots, Sam Browne belt, and brass rank badges. He pointed out that the standard yellow polishing cloth sold at the canteen left lint all over my black boots and OG uniform, requiring double the effort to clean up. A well-washed, soft white banian was superior in every way, and best of all, it didn’t cost a penny extra. He used the thinner, worn-out sections for the leather and the thicker seams for the brass. It was a masterclass in military budgeting: a costly saving!
Years later, after completing various staff postings and long courses, I returned to the regiment in Sikkim as a Battery Commander. This time, Sepoy Sri Chand was assigned as my Buddy, while Hukum Chand had climbed the ranks to become a Havildar.
A few days after my arrival, while I was taking an afternoon siesta in my bunker, I overheard Havildar Hukum Chand marching in. He began fiercely admonishing young Sri Chand for not maintaining the Saheb’s bunker up to standard. Hukum Chand proceeded to lecture him on my exact likes and dislikes—my tea preferences, my food, my clothes, and my cigarettes.
He concluded his lecture with authority: “Saheb likes wearing a banian at all times, even when he is sleeping.”
Glancing down, I realised I was indeed napping in my favorite lungi-banian combination. Hukum Chand added one more detail: “He prefers the thick banians under his uniform and the thin ones under his civil clothes.”
That was news to me. It was a preference I didn’t even know I had! In reality, it was a habit completely engineered by Hukum Chand years prior, ensuring he always had a steady, rotating supply of thick and thin cotton cloths to keep my brass and leather gleaming.
Today, Hukum Chand is a retired Subedar enjoying his well-deserved post-military life, while both of his children work as IT professionals. We recently crossed paths in December 2025 during our regiment’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations, sharing a laugh over old times.
It made me realise that many of our deeply ingrained habits and preferences are not self-developed at all. They are quietly thrust upon us by our environment—and sometimes, by a very clever Buddy.
