Sunday, December 28, 2008
An History of Distortion
Imagine my suprise when the greatest teacher of our times, wikipedia, revealed that Alexander was spouting those dialogs at Hephaistion, apparently the most significant love of his life who came next only to his kingdom. I rewinded all the records inside my head on Alexander and I remembered reading about his famous horse Bacupalus, general Ptolemy, and his wives but nothing on his childhood friend, second in command, right hand man and possible lover. A result of selective historical national amnesia I suppose.
Hepaistion had the misfortune of being born with the wrong gender for the post of Alexander's great love. If he had been a woman, he would now be sharing space with Juliets and Cleopatra's of history. Poor chap, although I doubt he would have known he would be ignored so much. He could have been just a close frined of Alexander but the possibility of something more to the relationship had effectively ensured that he disappear. Even Alexander wouldn't have expected glory to be such a selective mistress. After all he did do everything short of building the Taj Mahal to remember his freind. I bet he would have built it too if he had met Shajahan. Then again Shajahan would have told him the truth that Mumtaz being a woman was more likely to bask in the Taj and the consequent historical glory that came with it. To his credit, Alexander did try to make Hephaistion God though.
Why was Hephaistion not worthy of mention as much as a horse in our history books? Because he was a man who sullied the perfect christian heterosexual image Alexander should have had? If this could happen in the story of a legend who roamed the fringes of India, what have they done to that rich mixture of legends, myths and icons inside our boundries. How much is true about Ghazni, the Rajputs, the Mughals, the Chera's, Chozhas, Pandiyas and all the way up to Gandhi and Nehru? Is truth taking a beating in the iconization of our heroes? How much have we carefully errased from history? Are these great men made by us after we cook and extract our legends?
I still rememered the shock I felt when at the age of 19 I read somewhere that Gandhi used to ignore his wife and sleep with young girls just to prove his own chastity and strenght of will. Now I know that Gandhi was human and had his own faults but at 19 it was the shattering blow that brought down the greatest icon every Indian is feed from birth. I felt utterly stupid when I learnt about the emergency in my twenties and that too through 'Midnight's Children' when I have been told that Indira Gandhi was a great leader and prime minister who had the guts to take on Pakistan ignoring the US. Would it be detremental to have studied about the emergency in our history lessons? Why are the faults and the more humane episodes of our icons removed from history? Is truth valued only as long as it is safe and acceptible to the social norms?
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
India's First Estate
Last week like most Indians, I was anxiously watching the news as the drama in Mumbai evolved. And for the first time I watched as the first estate of India, the press rose to the occasion. And I must admit that when all the curtains fell on this horror show all that remained was a deep feeling of loss and a jumble of questions floating in my head. But once the tangles started loosening up, a few questions kept recurring in my head.
First thing was the recurring use of the word 'hostage'. With the way things were unfolding, it looked more like a siege that a hostage situation. I mean no one was holding anyone for ransom. It so happened that people were trapped inside and they tried their best not to get shot. But why was it termed as a hostage situation? I was surprised to see the usage of that term even in BBC. I could be wrong here, but I would like to know if I am.
Another thing was the way the media was drawing conclusions for its audience. Even before the men involved in the whole rescue operations had a say in it. Panels were organized and interpretations forced down our throat. I mean, who should conclude how India deals with Pakistan and when?
A point to ponder is how far can you go in the name of 'right to information'. Was it such a bad idea to shut down news channels in Mumbai to avoid the spread of rumors? And how much can you dramatics news. It was disgusting to watch reporters falling over each other to get a few words out of people who have starved for the past 48 hours. And why wasn't there a distinction between paying homage to our martyrs and making a spectacle of people in their private moments of grief.
Another thing was 'selective reporting'. While the events in Mumbai deserved to be reported why were the other parts of the nation totally blacked out? I don't mean to say they should have run their usual fare despite the events, but surely the cyclone in TN was news worthy enough to get a mention at the far lower corner of the screen. At least it’s more important than the change in venue of cricket matches. It would have helped so many people who were caught unawares in the airports and train stations of the state. Was it because 'Nisha' was not sensational enough?
Sage Yavanshi managed an interview with the rain Gods and this is what they had to say.
"Those bastards, they ruined our campaign on climatic change. However, acknowledging the fact that they are the experts in gaining publicity, we intend to hire Mr Azam Amir for our next campaign. I mean, it’s no mean task to turn your image from mass murderer to helper of the security forces with 24 hours."
Friday, November 14, 2008
Regrets?
Another spectacular year has gone by and here I am, the tumbled and tired but not yet worn out product of the past 365 days (and alos all the other 365s gone by before). I can't help wonder how much I have changed and yet how unchaged I have become in the past year. Some part of me had died and some have come into being while some have just remained defining me as always. While birthdays are just like any other day, they are a good time to turn back just for a wink and move on. When I did that, I couldn't help but wonder if I would have done anything different the last year. Unfortunately, yes, I would have prefered to have nade different choices but then I again, I don't regret the ones I made. Afterall, they all had their own bit in ensuring where I stand now.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
A question of importance
But once in a while, the mind refuses to listen to the melting miracle of icecream and wanders into domains it has no business wandering in. But once I got the question, its the worst brain itch so far. I have no problem spreading the itch to others, so here we go.
"Are humans no better (or worse) than animals or is there something 'more' to us?"
and yes, I confess that I thought of it only because I was wondering if a dog or a horse would enjoy the chocolate icecream as much as I do or will they just slurp it up and trot off without even realizing the divine taste sliding down their throat. (Disclaimer: This is just an example, if you dont like chocoalte icecream its okay....)
But seriously, do we have a special ability to rise above the basics of life and aim for some greatness on our own disregarding the social good? Basic refer to eating, sleeping, procreation and ensuring the safety of the procreated offsprings, hording for winter etc etc...
Do we have the power or will to indulge in things that DO NOT in anyway aid in the above mentioned needs. I agree we read poetry, we paint, we sing (come on its not always a primal trick to attract a mate) and we vote. But are these the things that define us as humans?
I can't help but feel that there is something just beyond all this that defines who we are. And life seems to be like a pilgrimage to that unknown shrine. I just hope that I take the right turns to get there in one peice.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
I am just an ordinary man
Work has been gratifying at a personal level and I havent ventured beyond that as of now.
But on a personal level, I had to rethink my ideas about marriage and that led to a massive failure. Yes, paying up thousands and registering in matrimonial sites does give you that confidence that you do have potential but that doesnt last long. I wouldnt regret it though, given that its the best sampling of 'ordinary humans' you can ever get.
Sex freaks to wimpering cowards to men who actually know what they want and are nice enough to say so are all there, and I bet I could have never had the chance to meet them all if not for these sites (yes, that also includes the category that I never ever want to meet again). But one thing thats common to them all is the last line they ever tell me, "I am just an ordinary man". (Sorry, I am gender biased here, but thats because, I happened to meet only men in these sites)
How I wish there is a ban on those words, it should be awarded the worst curse on humanity award. This is an amazing statement that can smother and kill every question that one can ask about life, moral and choice. In fact, its the atom bomb on human moral.
Every bribing, lying, stealing, cheating, backboneless, guilt ridden humble citizen of society wears this statement as a cloak, designed uniformly with the same prejudices, wrapped around himself to hide in a forest of such people. This is better than Harry Potters invisibility cloak because, most people have one. And if you dont own one, you are mercilessly poked and prodded on all sides, gapped at, and frowned upon like a monkey doing sea surfing. Not surprisingly though, the first response, I would get after you have read so far is most probably, "What bitterness?" "How pathetic?" or "Get a life!" Strange that if a rat says that cheese is better than garbage to to a bunch of rats living in the sewer, he will be viewed with pity. Bitterness, joy, disappointment are well worth their time, if I can escape the dreaded cloak.
That nasty little sentence is the absolution that removes any genuine guilt you might feel about the social wrongs you see and effectively pushes you back into the safe zone and comfort that comes with mass misconceptions. It effectively throws anyone who begs to differ out of the planet.
I know it is unfair to say that anyone who says these words are all worthy of the terms I have used above, but this blog is not about fairness, its just about my perception and until I find an 'ordinary human' who thinks for himself/herself and stands by his/her own decisions even if it is against the social norms, I will change my mind.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Cloning!
Then I turned around and saw a girl wearing a salwar just like mine and I stopped laughing. I always try to avoid designs that everyone wears. Call it vanity but I hate to see someone else dressed just like me. In fact, I go hunting for unique designs to some very dingy corners of the city. While cloning of Chinese restaurants is a bit funny, cloning cloths I wear was not, at least from my snotty point of view. I told myself that next time, I am designing my own salwar, or at the least buy something from a shop not too well known.
I had sufficiently sobered up by then and was watching out of the window of the bus, when i passed by a school. Like a sudden whiplash when I least expected, I realized with horrifying clarity that we not only clone restaurants and salwar kameezes but also humans. I find the sight of two rows of neatly dressed children with exactly the same uniform and hair style very disturbing. Don't you?
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Dead Poets Society
Horton believes that he heard a sound from a speck proving to him that there is a small world inside that speck. From there on, he faces all the problems that someone who is right, yet in the minority come to face. But finally, he does save whoville, the world in the speck. If you want to explain to a ten year old that what you are told is not always right and what you see is not always the only thing, this movie is the best choice. Of course, those who prefer a much profound and soul stirring method to achieve these ends without having to watch elephants, kangaroos and vultures, there is Dead Poet’s society.
What an amazing movie!!! Its voice should be heard loud and clear against the collective din of conformity and tradition that spills out of every school, college and university. Above all, it’s a movie that has aimed to make us all rethink the way we look at life and the way we live. It defined why we do need poetry and all beauty in our lives and on a personal level explained why a I still feel like biting into a piece of watermelon on a hot day, when recollecting the few lines of poetry that I read long ago.
In the end, I couldn’t grudge Neil his choice of freedom as much as I couldn’t grudge Horton his moment of fame.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
I watched the movie 'Iron Man' yesterday (those of you who are itching to ask me, "why the hell is a smart and intelligent woman watching a movie like Iron man?" Go away. This post is not for you. And I do have my dumb moments). The movie was a MARVELOUS one, just like all MARVEL ones. But unfortunately, I laughed instead of my usual open mouthed awestruck gapping exercise. So finally, I the great sage Yavanshi, has outgrown Marvel comics.
Well, the rest you will learn as you watch the movie. With such lessons I think there should be statuaory warning that says "Children, listen when Iron Man says weapons are bad and then shut your mind while watching, so as to avoid mental damage due to prejudice."
Friday, May 23, 2008
On Being an Atheist
Coming from a country that follows a thousand Gods, I have seen a number of mob murders done in the name of religion. But whats chillingly different in the case of the pastor is that he was an individual who was uncannily calm and rational (unlike people in a mob) when he did it. I personally cannot relate to this kind of hate. In my environment, religion does not figure in the scheme of things. Even when religion becomes a topic of discussion it's more like talking about the weather.
"I am christian, I pray to God when I have trouble, I am sure he will listen and help. What about you?"
"Oh, I don't believe in God, I am an atheist."
"Oh, okay. One of the Darwin types eh?"
"I went to the temple today."
"oh, the last time I went to a temple was seven years ago."
"oh, maybe you can come along next time when I go. It's fun."
"Yeah, sure."
"Dad, I don't believe in God"
"Don't say that"
"why?"
"Hum, you wont get a groom"
All these days, I was thinking that people don't like me being an atheist. Now I realize the true extent to which 'don't like' can mean. Now I know that folks back home are just being benignly surprised by my response. For that matter, people here frown on the so called immoral behaviour's that you may exhibit, but that's all they do. A woman who goes for an abortion, a man or a woman who is a homosexual, an atheist; all warrant a frown and at the max, gossip. But that is all. If you can forget to hear the disapproving murmurs in the background, you are guaranteed a pretty much normal life.
I just hope things remain that way here forever. But then again, the wheels of change turn slowly in India.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Poetry and Pumpkins
Finding Love
Why is it so hard to find?
why is it I never stop to mind?
The sun is down and the wind is cold
When the ocean sings, I still am looking
Why is it I never give up?
Why is it so hard to make up?
Even when the sands run through
My hands clutch at hope though
Why is it the price so high?
why is the bargain so bad?
Coz what I found was a pumpkin
That just won't spell any magic
Hehehe! this is what happens when you try poetry after 15 years :-)
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Dragons, Spirits and Pricesses
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Apple juice
The problem with apple juice is they taste the same. I was never able to tell juice from one bottle apart from another. But each apple always tastes unique. There is a brief second of wonder when I take a bite of an apple and my brain compares the taste with all the other apples I have had and then finally files the taste away in memory.
Neat isnt it :-). I should try it with all other fruits. :-)
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Gods and Tales
I started out as a deeply religious, or as deeply religious a 6-year-old can be, but gave up when I realized that every time I do something that’s been dictated in the name of God, I felt guilty. From then on, I became a very curious kid who wondered why trees grew and why birds sang and why water flowed rather than take it for granted that God made them so. And after years of having my head in the so called cloud, I am still fascinated and curious to know more about this world. I am not saying God had anything to do with it but a lack of a poor chap who can be blamed with everything under and beyond the Sun did help.
God is supposed to save us if we pray, which is nothing but wishing really hard in a manner acceptable to ourselves and others. Save us from what? Life? Why do people believe in the afterlife, the judgment day, the paramathma and so many other things that if not so old would be dubbed as fantasy. Maybe, a few more centuries from now people will be praying to today's myths. Rambo will become the war God, Harry will be the God of magic, Hermione will be the God of intelligence and by that time, Harry would be a handsome yet benign looking guy with lightning in his hand and Hermione will be an extraordinarily beautiful Goddess surrounded my cute little house elves.
One of my teachers in school long ago said that God is in real a creation of man to keep the not-so-strong-in-virtue in line. I can understand what she meant now but there is more to it. Man seeks boundaries; he wants a home with a fence that gives security; and the more people who share his faith in the strength of that fence, the more safe he feels. It gives a sense of belonging and a reason to fight when the fence is trying to be breached at the sometime absolved all the guilt that comes with it.
While most see God as the default answer to any and many questions, some choose to reason it as a lame excuse and try to cross the fence. Beyond the fence are a lot of space and a lot of freedom to roam free, to see, to observe, and to learn to make new homes.
It doesn't come easy but these homes that are worth a few stones thrown at us.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Values and the Individual
Do not kill, do not steal, do not hurt others, do not laze around are all social values that still retain their relevance to an extent but have slowly streamed out and got localized to a much more trivial level where they include "listen to your parents, do not dress different from everyone else, do not talk back, do not fall in love with someone society doesnt approve of, do not see 'evil' (have you watched "chole ke pechae kya hai" with elders around?), no one wants to give their daughters their due in marriage (dowry) and so on. The list is endless. But how much of it is really worthy of being accepted as values. Values, like the Ganges have started as the purest guides to out lives, but without the help of reason have aquired enough dirt to stink even before it reaches the mind of individuals. And so becomes more an excuse to fall in line than draw your own.
So what do we do? Do we ignore social values or do we follow them. Well, I think we need values but you got to mix reason before you dish it out. And what cant be dished out after mixing reason are not worthy values. But most of all, instead of following a socially accepted set of values, I suppose each individual needs his values.
This is the age of the individual, people are more and more isolated as ever. Gadgets have made our life so much safer and better that we no longer have the need to hunt in packs. But ironically, this is also the age where men as thinkers refuse to surface out of the collective murk of society. What is society but the majority and the majority seems to hold power more than ever simply because more people that ever refuse to differ. If social values say killing is wrong, why is the world playing along with the powerful few who kill for oil? If tolerance is value, why is Gods name slandered in the name of holy war? Are values merely a matter of convenience?
I don't care for these values, because they dont give me the satisfaction I should get in following them. Instead, all I get is a guilt that refuses to drown despite the sea of social knowledghement. I know that no amount of "you did the right thing" will put my soul to rest if I accept a groom who asked for dowry. No amount of "you are a good girl" will equal the fun of making a choice to wear cloths I am comfortable in. My values are my own. Whatever we tell ourselves, we are survivors first and only then social animals. If you must kill for survival, won't you? My first value is to survive. The rest are what I set to make my survival as guiltless and as enjoyable as possible. But like everything else in life, values too have a cost. You can kill to survive but you also have to answer to "at what cost?" If I do choose the wrong things as my values, or dont set the cost, then I always have karma to face. Afterall, those who are ready to kill, must be ready to be killed right?
Philosophy in the rain
Sunday, March 2, 2008
What Sita had done?
I hate her, I hate Sita. If only she hadn’t jumped into the fire at the whim and fancy of her husband, there will be one less argument when a woman refuses to take s*** from her husband. And before you tell me Ram did that to clear his wife’s name, let me tell you that if he really loved his wife, he wouldn’t care a foot about what others thought of her. Why didn’t they give Sita some character? Everything in her life was conveniently written to avoid her making a decision. Ever wondered what would have happened if Ram didn’t break the bow. Would Sita have walked down the aisle and boldly refused to marry anyone, bow breaker or not, except Ram? Would Ram have valiantly decided that he fell in love with Sita and not the bow and married her anyway? Why the hell didn’t she even think of attempting an escape from Lanka, instead of passively waiting for her husband to do the rescue?
For that matter, Draupathi had some character. She juggled five husbands beautifully and was clever enough to know who would do what for her. She also knew what they wouldn’t do for her and asked the right person (never mind it was Krishna and not on of her husbands who had pawned her) for help when desperately in need. But she doesn’t figure much in the ‘guide to Indian womanhood’.
What about Savithri? What about Kanagi? All these women gave the impression that their husbands were Gods and they themselves were nothing without them. Take Kanagi for example. She didn’t do much to stop her wayward husband, but she was docile enough to wait for him and take him back into her life when he came back a pauper. But when he got murdered by mistake, she became the mighty ‘pathni’ who burnt a city in his memory.
Passivity is such a glorified concept on Indian womanhood that women who put up with things are considered divine. While, women who are assertive and refuse to waste their lives at the foot of men are considered arrogant and manipulative. How many of the women in these legends did a honest days work (forget the ones they spent washing their father’s or husband’s feet and bearing children)? How many of them fought battles (Poor queen of Jansi, she did and still is fighting a lone battle), treated the sick, ran business empires, or plain protected their interests. I am sure there should be a few shining examples, but sadly, they not popular enough for a layman like me to know.
Indian women have evolved so much, we have come a long way from plain reproductive members of society to productive members of society, but still old myths are flung at our face whenever it suits society. While fathers and mothers are happy that their daughters are earning their keep, they resent it when their daughter’s make their life’s choices. While a man is happy with a woman’s efficiency at work, he goes back home and expects the same luxuriant dinner, his mother’s made for their fathers, from a wife who had worked just as hard as him the whole day. And when a woman grumbles about it, men (and women of the older generation) bring Sita into the picture.
Sita is a bad example, if Indian women follow her ideas fastidiously; we will have an even bigger population with even less money. But I must admit we will have more bonfires.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Chronicles of a Depressiac
Yeah, this is how I feel when I am depressed. Alone, scared, and worthless are the usual toppings that go with this not so unusual rich sundae. It’s a struggle to get back on my feet when it hits be, but like the unwavering sun that always rises, I always get up, dust myself and walk on until it hits be again. The fear that one day, I may not get up, took me to a shrink once.
Acute anxiety, depression and a refusal to deal with emotional problems of the past were some of the things that were repeatedly mentioned in her diagnosis. While I sat and listened, meekly wondering if I will ever make it into the ‘normal’ side of human society, I told myself that I would do better to get rid of these ailments. Six pills and 2 days later, I realized that depression was more fun than sleep walking zombism.
I still get depressed but when I finally get it under control and stop those shuddering torrents of tears, I smile a real smile that is reserved for those occasions when I think I have come clean after falling off the boat of Hades. It feels like I am God, the enigma that will always resurrect, no matter how many ever times it is burnt or buried. And I have faith that I will always come clean. I have uncluttered my life as much as possible to keep this faith undisturbed. I have made my own ideals to live by.
Alone, yes, alone gives me the freedom to walk the road I choose. Scared, yes, the more I am scared, the more I want to win. Worthless, never, someday when I know that I don’t have many sun rises left to watch, I will know that each minute I lived was worth it.Meanwhile, I have chocolates, icecreams, butterflies and rain to live for.
Friday, February 1, 2008
WYSIWYDG
I took a peak at her bag ( I am mannerless) and had a tough time holding back my sarcastic tongue. This woman had gone out of her way to a super market, bought exactly 3 slices of tomatoes, a handful of jeera, a few mint leaves and chopped onion (roughly 2 days old i guess) all packed beautifully on a plastic tray with a celophene sheet (not edible and so not worth a single paise while buying vegitables) for 30 rs. But she is hagling with an old woman over garden fresh brinjals for 5 rs.
Many people I know personally shop in these super markets and feel good about it too. They won't mind buying chopped vegitables at least a day old for the price of a kilo of the same vegitable in much better condition in the local market. My own dad buys watery flavoured yoghurt for 20 rs, while we have an Avin outlet, down the street that sells thicker and rich yoghurt for 8 rs. What makes educated smart people believe that packed vegitables and perishable goods are fresh in shops that have warehouses out of the state?
This is the age of marketing, quiet often what you see is not what you get. The dress I buy for 300 in pondy bazar is a better imitation of a designer salwar, that eats a months paycheck. When I said this truth to a peer, she said "Oh, its not branded and besides Pondy Bazar is too crowded." That set me wondering, when buying a dress, isn't the dress more important than the crowd or label?
Its not only true in case of merchendises but also in the way we work and live. How many of us have gone to the quiet zoo at Vadalur or the museum at Egmore, where there are things to see and feel pleasent about for a sum less that 50 rs. How many times have we all rushed into amusement parks paying 500 rs for just jumping from ride to ride. You will get a better and more thrilling ride if you take the guindy road ina share auto or bus.
In my own work, the quality of the content I write is not dependent on how effective the material was but on how many errors that were there. My collegues and I discovered that the best way to improve quality in such a set up is to write as less as possible. The less you write the less mistakes you can make. Logical isn't it?
Anyway, I got to buy lady's finger today, I hope I am lucky enough to catch up with the old woman in the train.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Spiderman
Who ever said spiderman 3 is not good has no idea of what entertainment is all about. When was the last time you laughed every time the hero cried? That kind of acting takes special skills and Toby is one of the special kind second only to Vijayakanth.
The amazing direction and wonderful acting makes this movie a treat to all. To say the story was dull is ridiculous. To start with you have a cute smart alien bug that hitches a ride on a meteorite, then you have the I-did-it-for-my-kid guy who by the way didn’t kill uncle Ben and then did and then didn’t (confused uh? So am I). Then you have the rival photographer who is waiting to be infected by the bug. And the best of all, the friend turned, foe turned, friend turned, foe turned, friend (let me take breather) Osbourn.
Which heroine confesses she is a pathetic actor? Mary Jane does. Which hero begs his arch rival to help him (as casually as asking for a lift)? Spidy does. And which director shamelessly assembles a crowd to weep and cheer for Spidy complete with the American flag? Spidy’s director does. Which friend waits patiently for his friend to die (forget the tamil ones)? Spidy does…
I am sure the bug will win the Oscar this year. It was the best performance by an alien bug so far.
PS: I have no intention of watching the another sequel of spidey, if the bug doesn’t act in it.
Mission accomplished!
Something had gone wrong and now I have to wade through an army of enemy artillery, walk past thousands of soldiers and maybe hitch a ride on an enemy tanker to get to my drop point. My pick-up hasn't turned up and I have just the great sage yavanshi to help me get to the drop point on time.
I summoned all my courage and plunged into the sea of soldiers. if they were surprised to see a woman wading through them, they did not show it. Right in front of me was a bus full of unruly soldiers. It was a sight that could freeze any woman in fear but not me. I put on my best puppy dog face and asked for a lift. I few wide smiles later, I was sitting in a corner of the bus and trying my best to become invisible. The traffic was heavy and soldiers were running all around. Just as the bus started moving again, I noticed a few soldiers checking the vehicles behind us. Oh God! This is absolutely the wrong place to be caught.
Just as I was about to panic, the great sage Yavanshi came up with an idea. There was a dark alley that seemed to lead to a parallel road just a few feet in the front. As the bus rumbled a bit closer, I put on a dazzling smile and said that I got to go back as i had forgotten something. No one seemed to mind, so I hopped off and dashed into the alley.
For a minute I though I was being chased but then realized that though a lot of people were fretting, fuming and generally running in all directions, no one was following me. There are began the treacherous journey to my drop point. It was pitch black, there were a lot of land mines and I had to move at snails pace using my flash light. Once I crossed the alley the road was well lit but crowded. I pushed my way through the crowd and finally reached the railway station where my train home was already huffing and puffing. I ran as fast as I can and got one foot into the train before it pulled away angrily.
If not for such a wild imagination, I would have also fretted and fumed after getting stuck in the traffic for 2 hours. I walked to the station after abandoning the bus I was travelling in and this was the story that gave me the strength to walk four kilometers to the station.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Can someone invent these?
Friday, January 4, 2008
Mishaps and apologies
She was kind enough to let me visit her anyway. She is one of those friends i never feel like screaming at (and I should say I am good enough to be a professional screamer), though I am sure if any other friend of mine had tried this, I would have visited them after buying a pick axe. I cursed all the way for half an hour until she called and said that we can go for an early lunch once I get there. I was still irritated that all my plans were foiled and even contemplated forgetting the whole episode and going back home. But I had gone too far for that, so I just went ahead.
Even as I stood at her door wondering if the flowers I brought where right and the chocolates have melted in the humid Chennai heat; when she opened the door, I forgot everything. There on I didn't worry about what i was doing. We just laughed and talked. We walked to a restaurant nearby which was not even pretending to be as good as the one I had planned on, then we went on for ice creams (my favourite part). I even made her eat a blue and pink ice cream which she wouldn't have dreamt of trying on her own. One thing we didn't have was time. So we said good bye in a hurry and I set on my long journey back home inside a sweltering bus crowded as usual.
Curiously though, I remembered how irritated I was in the morning and then realized I was actually feeling happy now. Hum, at least the whole mess of my plans wasn't that bad. Later my friend told me that she had a really nice time that day, and I knew she meant it. I have forgotten all the fun we didn't have that day, but I remember the fun we did have. A couple of days later when I was narrating the event to a friend, she asked, "didn't she even apologies?" For a minute there I was startled. She didn't and I didn't even notice, in fact I would have squirmed if she had. To be frank, I realized that neither of us actually apologies to each other and that's one of the reasons why I feel comfortable about our friendship. Who wants apologies when neither of us care about such things?
The mess after all wasn't a mess at all coz the most important things where in place. Sort of like how you can still recognize a kids scribbling as a human figure just by the sticks and the circles.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Whoring all our lives
Some thoughts just sneak in on you so slow that you don't even realize that they are there until they hold you by the neck and throttle you. What I am writing now is one such. I was just thinking why people go to prostitutes. As far as I can see, its for sex. But why pay money and go to all the trouble for something that doesn't need someone else? Maybe because its nice to do it with someone else. Why is it nice that way? Maybe because it mimics something that goes way beyond sex, a false sense of love. But if that's the reason then why aren't there mother's for hire for a night who will serve you dinner and pet your hair. That will also give a false sense of affection right? Why not dad's for a Sunday, who will take you to movies and talk like a real father. Why not brothers, sisters or friends for hire?
I realized these relationships are also sold on the streets and sometimes inherited; its just that we don't call them prostitution. We call them duty, responsibility, commitment, comfort, security, and many more. Worst of all, we call it marriage. While whores get paid in money the rest of us get paid in kind or/and money.
I know, the first thing you are saying now is its not true. Yes, its not always true. But most of the time yes. Ask some of these questions to yourself and you will know.
Why do you marry?
Coz I need company, free sex, children, house maid, money machine, home, cook, bodyguard etc etc etc
Why do you care for your children?
Coz they are mine (u hear it surprisingly often), legacy, responsibility, future insurance etc etc etc
Why do you have friends?
Coz they will help in need, they have fun with me, they are there for me etc etc etc
In other words for something or the other.
I am sure you will be shocked why the word love isn't in these lists. I haven't said that word yet coz it is the only thing that differentiates prostitution and honest-to-yourself relationship.
Love that you just give for the joy of it. Not because you will get something out of it. Its just a honest feeling like genuine anger or sorrow. Oh forget the mush, its just a nice feeling that lasts while it lasts. Just like how anger dissolves in time, so can love. It doesn't become prostitution until the relationship lasts even after love dissolved.
By the way, I never said prostitution is wrong.