Making sense of the world.
Archive for September, 2010
Burning Effi-ji
Sep 28th
It all began during world Cup (03), with burning of effi-jies (pardon me for the spelling) of Dada’s boys after loosing their first match against the Aussies. That is when I got acquainted to the word effigies (pardon me for the waver 
). Even the disastrous 07 world cup is done but I was still just spotting the word in papers and not the live demo (god did I just call it that). Soon enough for the first time, I saw one burning right away. Not that it is an exhibit, but I couldn’t help gaping at it. In the middle of FREAKING Shankar nagar square (that’s in Nagpur by the way) with the police having the usual cutting and chalaan session, I saw people walking to the middle of the square and burning effigies like a fire cracker. And I wondered what the hell were the cops doing when there is an orange blaze around! That guy had petrol in a plastic bottle, not a matchstick but a complete log of wood and fire and hold on isn’t it illegal to carry petrol in a bottle?? At least catch him for that, for isn’t that illegal!
And then I wondered, what the hell I was doing staring at those people and thinking of various ways to blame other people around me! I don’t have the balls to walk up to those people, let alone raise my voice! I was just gaping and blaming….. I am just writing this piece as a futile way to feel less guilty, ain’t i?! For all my opinions on youth and democracy and love for Kalaam’s 2020 vision, I do fall into the “chalta hai” “hamare saath tho nahi hua na” “f*c* it” category. So why blame the hawaldar who is at least pretending to protect me. I am sure I have hands of readers raised saying “at least we are honest about being near- spineless”. That is an elixir isn’t it…. like that’s not being a coward….
Wisdom From A Sage..
Sep 22nd
When I lived in Rishikesh, I had a friend, a very old Sadhu. He was 75 at that time. I often used to visit him in his tiny room. Over cups of tea, which he used to make, we would talk about life and the world and would try to make some sense. One day, he told me a story, a strange love story! Let me tell it to you..
Many years ago, in a small village there lived a young man. He lived in a hut with his young wife, old parents and his younger brother. He was very proud to have a great loving family. The young man was the disciple of a Sadhu who lived in the forest a few miles away from the village.
Every day he used to go to his guru in the forest. The guru had taught him many things of wisdom and told him wonderful stories. One day, as they both were sitting and chatting, the man told his guru how fortunate he was to have a great loving family. The Sadhu enquired of his family. The man told,’ my wife is the most loving woman in the world. She loves me more than anyone else. My parents are also wonderful, they too love me. I don’t think anyone else has such loving parents’ The Sadhu tried to tell him that it is not so and that all form of love in this world is limited. That all relationship in this world has its limitations. But the young man disagreed. He persisted that he alone is the most fortunate person for having such a great loving family. No words of wisdom from the guru would satisfy him.
The Morning After
Sep 21st
I’ll be there for you – when the rain starts to pour…
I’ll be there for you- like I’ve been there before…
I’ll be there for you – cos’ you’re there for me too!
Do you like your friends? Here’s a thought – we love because we are conditioned to but we like because it appeals to our parameters of acceptability (or unacceptability –whatever gets you off!) So which is it – do you “love” your friends or are they there because you have rationalized the relationship and arrived at the junction of liking that rationalization? What do you need from a friendship? Companionship. Trust. Belief. Like-mindedness. Loyalty. Fidelity. Courage. What do we expect from those that we love? Companionship. Trust. Belief. Like-mindedness. Loyalty. Fidelity. Courage. Is it me or can someone else see the problem here?! How often can you stand up and say exactly what you don’t like about a person AND still have them stick around? No answer?! Interesting!
Look at friendships from another angle. Colleagues that work closely together on 10-hour workdays, six-day work weeks are thrown together by force of circumstance. As if that is not enough, modern-day work ethos just cannot make space for some good ol’ hostility! So you’re just not allowed not to like your co-workers. What’s wrong with being a total Class A jerk if you get the job done and well, at that? Why must love be all around us? It gets suffocating! A while ago, I turned into a Class A+ jerk for a spell and managed to trample on toes and other digits. Did that make me any less good at my work? Co-workers would disagree – I think! About those digit-less people hopping around? Yes, still there, regrown out of all that scar-tissue. Any more “love” feeling? I guess not – and probably am a notch further down on the Home Coming Queen ladder but at least the ladder figures.
Another Catwalk
Sep 15th
Every day we are flooded with new gadgets and gizmos. This has not only shaped the way we live but has even changed the meaning of words. Words and definitions are undergoing an evolutionary process. Tweet used to be the sound of a bird, but now if you don’t ‘tweet’ you are not ‘happen’ing’ anymore! Likewise, walking or running no more means the same thing as it used to.
Walking is a good exercise. Not just for the body, but even for the mind and soul. You could take a walk down the lane in the morning and admire the beauty of nature around you. Could feel the earth under your feet, hear the buzz of the bees, could smell the fragrance of the flowers, see the green woods or trees lining the sidewalks. By the time you have walked a few miles, apart from your body being exercised, your entire being has been invigorated by nature. It can be a beautiful experience. And when you have walked for a while, you have actually moved some distance away from the starting point.
But thanks to modern machines within the confines of our walls that have changed all these. Children ‘play’ cricket or football not on the ground, but on computer screens! You can walk, run or even cycle several miles and yet remain at the same spot. The body has exercised, but it is not a wholesome experience.
The glamor world has its pet words too. Tall and lanky figures walk down on narrow ramps displaying style and beauty. They call it catwalk!! But just the other day, I witnessed a different kind of catwalk..
It was very early in the morning. I had to go out to reach a friend to the bus stop. It was still dark and we could see the stars hanging in the sky around the beautiful moon. Something we city dwellers seldom get to see. There were beautiful green woods just across the other side of the road. A gentle breeze was blowing. As we both stood there and waited for the bus, I saw in the distance, four young boys on the road, coming towards us. They were doing a ‘catwalk’ on the road! They were laughing and joking among themselves and as they approached nearer, I could see a tiny creature accompanying them. Sometimes people take their pet dog along with them for their walks. I thought it must have been a small puppy that was accompanying them. They were in a world of their own, enjoying the bliss of the morning. As they neared, I was surprised. It was not a puppy, but a small cat that was accompanying them. For the first time, I saw a cat with its master on a morning walk! The cat was faithfully following the master and that too, without a leash!
It was a beautiful sight. I watched them till they disappeared in the distant dawn with the little cat still following.. A real ‘catwalk’ indeed.. Wouldn’t it be nice to get out of the room for a walk and enjoy the nature.. Machines can never replace nature. Why not leave the lifeless ‘treadmills’ and ‘morning walkers’ and step out into the beauty of nature’s bliss? You don’t need a dog or even a cat. The walk itself satisfies!!
Hit Them Baby One More Time
Sep 13th
I quite like my breakfast news. ‘Good morning world, how’re you doing?’ Before, a cup of ‘Ragi’ and a sumptuous breakfast was pretty good for digestion, till I saw ‘Burn a Quran Day’ headlined on the newspaper. That day there was ‘upama’ for breakfast. I didn’t like the ‘upama’, too bland. Neither did I like that particular piece of news. It didn’t go well with my digestive system. Forget ‘well’, it just didn’t go into my digestive system. Instead, it got sucked into my ‘nuisance value compartment’ —- situated right next to my spleen. Well, you might wonder about this compartment, and question anatomy in general to which I would say, ‘don’t, its an upgrade and its customized.
Coming back to this particular news item number. I think it qualifies to fall under the ‘I’m a virgin, said Britney Spears’ and, ‘Mandela? Who Mandela? Isn’t he dead?’ spoken by the great George W Bush in a press conference, category. Speaking of George W Bush, shouldn’t Pastor Terry Jones have thought of organizing burn a ‘Bush’ day? I mean God revealed himself to Moses through a burning bush, who knows he would have come up with some kind of mind blowing, history making revelations to Pastor Terry Jones too, especially about the 9/11 disaster. The newspaper termed him as a ‘radical Christian’. I was wondering if they have a different Bible, with a few empty pages where radicals like Pastor Terry Jones could add their own holy verses and commandments. What is the difference between him and the other self proclaimed holy extremists coming up with nothing but ‘holy shit’? He should know that it is not the love for God, but the love for one’s own greed and power and reasons for existence, that such inhumane and cheap events have taken place throughout history. Poor God has always been the scapegoat. No wonder he doesn’t reveal himself to ‘Saints and Aints’ like he used to in ancient days.
‘God, do you see what’s happening down below,
it aint ‘happenin’ anymore,
pastor jones wants to burn pages
few imams want to hold the world in cages
it takes ages for love to grow old
but just a moment for hate to be bold
he blames him, him blames he
in the process, screwed get we
and you.? you’re the context of disaster
they say you’re the one they’re running after
God, please tell them that you are cool
without guns and ‘bums’ and fools
if not for anyone, then just for me
for my breakfast and my cup of tea
and for that little time where I spend
a moment with you my eternal friend
I come with from a Christian family, and I became radical, when I ended the quest for him, because hey, He just happens to live within me.
So much so for freedom of expression.
Sleepless God
Sep 10th
The clock shows 10.20 in the night. My eyes are drooping after a full day of wakefulness and work. My daughter has exams in another three days, and trying desperately to study. In the 16 flats in my residential building, families are getting ready to sleep. Sandwiched between my building and another residential block is a small time church. Their hall window is about six feet away from my bedroom window and I can look inside their small auditorium and even hear their whispers. The amplifier is full on and a male voice is shouting “Hallelujah!” on the mike. He begins almost in a whisper and builds up to a crescendo. Maybe he thinks God is deaf. I’m told God does not sleep, but human beings do, for that is the way he made them. He made them male and female, and he also made them sleepy at night.
Is spirituality all about high volume hallelujahs? Or is spirituality about common courtesy, about doing to your neighbour as you would have them do to you?
Now they have started loud singing, or what passes for singing. And in the nearby colony, another set of speakers is blasting away. They are treating their deity to Shakira doing waka waka (or is it wakeup wakeup), this time for Africa. I do wish divine blessings on Africa, but for me, this is the time for slumber land. At least this noise will subside before midnight, hopefully. The Church of Maximum Volume will continue, week after week, drowning out the still small voice, and the cries in the wilderness, until the day the Prince of Peace comes and switches off their power.
Earlier in the evening, there was news of another small time American church leader, with a big time title, threatening to burn the holy book of another community. In any civilised and multicultural society, such behaviour should have no place, except in a mental asylum. However, for me right now, among God’s peculiar people, the nocturnal and noisy ones must top the list.
Atonement.
Sep 7th
It happened almost 25 years ago in erstwhile Bombay! The memory however is still fresh in my mind. A group of visually impaired friends used to meet in a small room for an informal time of fellowship on Wednesday evenings. I was one of the volunteers, helping them with reading the newspapers or helping them with their studies.
There I met a young man named Prem. He was in his twenties. He was not a volunteer but a visitor in that campus. Whenever we met, we would exchange casual greetings of hello or hi and would move on. I did not know anything about him and we never talked. I could not get to like this guy at all. His very sight would put me off. Deep within I had some kind of hatred towards him. Whenever we met, I would put on a smile and say ‘hello’ to him, resenting him at the same time. This went on for several months. Face is not always the index of the mind!!
Time went by. One evening. I was at the Mother Teresa’s ‘Home for the Destitute & Dying’ at Byculla. The watchman opened the gate and I saw a yellow-black taxi pull into the courtyard. I was surprised to see Prem. He got down from the taxi. This time we did not exchange any greetings. He seemed to be in a hurry. I saw him open the back door of the taxi. There was a dirty bundle on the seat. With care he carried that bundle in both his hands and put it down gently. More >
Food Talk
Sep 5th
One of my favourite activities is to people-watch, that too, at cafés and eateries. We are what we eat, after all, but over the years, I believe I’d add “and how we eat” to that sentence.
Through all my travels – and there are many more to be done! – I’ve come to appreciate, cherish and treasure the plethora of sensuality that is Indian cuisine. Growing up in a home that thought as much as it lived, food was not just a fact of life – it was something to be learnt, discovered, achieved with skill and appreciated with gratitude. Even simple meals were a celebration in themselves – with all the trappings of a well-laid table to good conversation. Many a meal has lingered past the one-hour mark with discussions about spices and recipes and culinary influences. Therefore, to me, watching and digesting food are not just physical activities.
Obviously, when I headed to Italy, then, I was quite keen on the cuisine and their culinary ideas. After all, it is one of the oldest formal cuisines in the Western world and no, it did not disappoint me. Northern Italy is more Germanic than Neapolitan or Tuscan. Turin, the seat of the Duchy of Savoy, Milan, Como – all Alpine. It follows then, that so it the food. The infamy of long-drawn Italian meals is a delight to the observer – meals can last for up to three hours! To this day, it is perfectly acceptable to begin meals with an aperitif, moving on to anti-pasti. If you are Italian, you’ll most definitely do justice to anything that follows. If, however, you are not, this is the time to loosen your belt a couple of notches – trust me – you’ll need the extra space. Pasta and the main course follow. Then of course, there is the dolce - dessert – and coffee. Bitter, strong, fresh and knock-your-socks-off caffeinated! All this must be accompanied by voluble and animated conversation that runs the entire gamut of topics – not to forget frantic gesticulation! I have a theory for this – this physical activity keeps the calories in check and makes room for the grande finale – il gelato – the ice cream. There’s one thing Italy will always win the crown for – their ice creams. If you’re every lucky enough to find yourself in La Italia, treat yourself to a couple of slurps of heaven – it goes by the name of rum-and-raisin gelato.
Italians consider meals an occasion that borders on the sacred. It’s not just the food, it’s the whole act of being together that counts.
Beyond Blindness
Sep 3rd
I lay frightfully awake past midnight, gripped by a sudden fear of the possibility of going blind. What
had brought on this fear? I don’t know. Maybe an imagination on overdrive, or the awareness of growing age and deteriorating health. The fear was very real and not nice. It took me to the edge of darkness. I could not see myself coping with blindness. So how did those who had actually lost their sight manage? I remembered seeing blind men with sticks boarding Mumbai local trains. I thought of Helen Keller. Yet, the suffocating fear took time to recede.
Two days later I came across Kanchan’s story.
Blind at Eight
Kanchan woke up and rubbed her eyes. She could hear familiar morning sounds, but could see nothing. As she turned her head around, she saw only darkness. She felt her father’s arms around her as he asked, “Did you dream?” That’s when she screamed out in horror, at the realization that she could not see. “I felt the world closing up around me, as if someone had cut the breath of life,” says Kanchan. Initially, her parents could not believe what had happened to their eight-year-old. They took her to specialists in Chennai, who confirmed the diagnosis that Kanchan had a detached retina; the light-sensitive layer of tissue at the back of the eyeball that sent image signals to the brain had failed. She had become permanently blind.