The Eighties Girl

1980.

The year when my life and India's destiny changed forever.

Baba was allotted a government quarter in Minto Road, Delhi. The people staying there were rather ordinary. Middle class. Warm. Friendly. They came from different parts of India. Tamil Nadu and Maharashtra. Punjab and Bihar. A kind of mini India. I made friends with a girl from UP. Do you want to play?" was the first question asked. Who asked? Who answered? All we knew was that by the end of the day, we had formed a deep friendship. I stayed in that government colony for more than 10 years. The friends I made then are still my lifeline.

That was also the year Sanjay Gandhi died. We did not really care about politics, my friends and I. But we did hear some snippets of adult conversation. Emergency. Turkman Gate. RajivGandhi. Only later we knew how important these words were to our country.

1981.

It was the year of love. Sapna and Vasu. Bunty and Pinky. Charles and Diana. I fell a little bit in love with Kumar Gaurav. My mother refused to let me see Love Story the second time because she thought I might get ideas and elope with someone. I was so upset that I locked myself in. My mother broke open the door and spanked me. I was angry, tearful, dejected. Back in 1981, my mother was all powerful. And I was not even thirteen.

1982.

That was the year of excitement. Asiad was the hot topic. Appu was the lovable mascot. And Doordarshan was changing colours. From a drab black and white, we went shocking pink .Bright blue. Dark green. Deep orange. The experts had yet to figure out how to control the colours and contrasts. Or perhaps like little kids, they also got a little carried away seeing all the colourful possibilities. For whatever reasons, our eyes had to undergo a lot of trauma. The TV set was manufactured by the Electronics Corporation of India. It took ages to switch on. We waited with bated breath to see the first flicker of colour. There was also no remote. Did we care?

1983.

A year of possibilities. A car that was mass produced, transformed our roads. A frozen frame showed the reigning screen god's brush with death. And a cheeky, spunky devil from Haryana lifted the World Cup. The initial matches were considered so insignificant, India's chances were considered so remote that we did not even send a camera crew. But for the semi final and final, we were glued to the TV. Occasionally we lost signal from London. Occasionally the pictures were grainy, but we saw our men, who dared to dream, finally lift that huge cup. '83 was the year we started believing in ourselves. We believed we could buy a car. We believed we could fight death and emerge victorious. We believed we could beat West Indies in cricket and be world champions....well, may be that was still, a little bit unbelievable.

1984.

If the previous year had hope, this one had tragedy. Starting with my board exams in March. The syllabus was humongous. There were too many subjects. But who said the life was easy? To celebrate the end of the boards, my parents took us to Srinagar. And then the nightmare began.

The Indian Army stormed the Golden Temple. Curfew was imposed and we were stranded in the Jammu- Punjab border. 5 days of living on the roads. Extreme heat. No food. No doctors, (we all got heat stroke) and most important, no bathrooms anywhere. I wonder whether the young people who have grown up taking for granted ATMs and credit cards, cell phones and internet, ACs and plane travelling, will ever be able to fathom the trauma my father went through when his money ran out. He was a long way from home and he did not know when this would end. After 5 gruelling days we managed to reach Delhi and found it simmering with resentment. The same year in October, Indira Gandhi was gunned down. And the city I loved, burst into flames. From our 7 storey building, we saw the red sky. Heard horrific news of the riots. The schools and colleges shut down. Young boys like my brother, patrolled the colony at night to stop possible rioters. The immense love and respect Hindus and Sikhs had for each other, was gone in a heart beat. Sanity took a long time to return.

1985

We saw Ravi Shastri driving his Champion of champions' prize on the huge Sidney cricket ground that year. His team mates had crammed into the car. Some were also on top. It felt like we were taking that victory lap ourselves. The first world cup win was considered to be a fluke and that year we felt vindicated. That was the year we heard about a car called Audi for the first time.

1986.

A year of growing up. That was the year I went to college. The difference between the claustrophobic school and the fun loving college was palpable. New environment, new teachers and new friends. The year's chart buster was "That's what friends are for" and we could not have enough of the song. This year we also saw the Challenger space shuttle burst into flame and the vivid, horrifying image stayed in our minds for a long time.

1987

That year, every Sunday morning at 9.30, the whole of India came to a virtual stop. We made it a point to sit in front of our neighbour's TV (most of India were still to acquire one) and watched Ramayan. The roads were deserted. Trains, buses and taxis stopped running. People rescheduled their appointments and all of us caught the Ramayana fever.

A year we learnt 2 Russian words. Glasnost and Perestroika.

1988

My brother could not stop raving about the young girl who danced to a strange song that went like Ek Do Teen... For one full day, he lost his ability to speak and went mooney eyed on us. He would lie down and stare at the ceiling and sigh once in a while. I kind of empathized with him since I felt a bit like that for a young actor who was playing the role of a Fauji in a serial of the same name.

That year, I also went to Rajasthan with my college friends, my first trip without my family. Has there been any other state with so much history, art, colours and passion? Not in my eyes.

1989

A year of filling up forms for higher studies. A year of contemplation. A year of sitting down with friends and family to decide on a career path. There were so many avenues, so many options. We saw the Berlin wall fall and realized impossible could happen. We saw the gutsy students protest at the Tiananmen Square and felt bravery could come in many forms.

That was the year I finally grew up.

I know this has been a long post. But I had to write this one when Blunt Edges said “So you belong to THAT generation?". Yes I do. Those were the days my friend... I also could not resist putting this video clip here. I do not know how many of you will have the patience to see this one. Those of you, who do, let me know how many faces you recognized. They were the faces of the eighties.....