Selfish Little

In a country like India were poverty is always on the rise it hurts to see so much of food grain rot in the rains.
You know what... read it in the papers this morning ....makes me wonder why nobody is giving any importance to it... Jessica Lall was murdered and thousands of people who were not affected by her murder directly stayed up all night and lit candles and it felt good to see so many of us mobilizing towards the greater good of the society....but it’s the same janta which is least bothered with all these food grains rotting away....something which affects us directly....will it take a murder of a beautiful lady for us to start a movement again?? Why can’t all of us FB empowered netizens start something a little more worthwhile instead of self indulgent status messages...can we??
But what can we exactly do?? Start another Candle Lit March towards the gateway? Or start a Pink Chaddi campaign?
Well, since I am like the rest of the population who likes armchair theories and couch preaching as well… and don’t have a cause in which I believe in … I can jot down few steps
Option 1:
We all can start a long discussion and hope that it generates enough buzz to come to the notice of sensible and self motivated people who will actually do something about it
Our Fyada: - we will feel good about one little thing and if this movement gains importance we can brag about it to our grandkids someday
Option 2:
We all start a long discussion and urge people to take out some time from their busy and hectic life to start a letter addressed to Ashok Gulati, Director, FCI, who says that "The total storage capacity is 28 million tonnes ... this leads to losses of 10 – 15 per cent. Translate this into value... that is 6 million tonnes of grains damaged, unfit for human consumption ... it amounts to Rs 8,000 to Rs 10,000 crores annually." We mark a copy to the Prime Minister Dr. Manmohan Singh, Minister of Agriculture and Minister of Consumer Affairs, Food & Public Distribution Mr. Sharad Pawar, Minister of Home Affairs Mr. P. Chidambaram. The creative ones amongst us can put together a nice power point presentation and the hard working sincere types can research the facts and figures for it. The enterprising ones can follow up with the above mentioned people to see whether they have read said draft. The ones in media can slyly slip a draft into the editorial meeting and the ad guys can maybe take a dig or so in one their copies.
Our Fyada: Since we are using our core competencies and not leaving our armchairs, we can chat with our friends while doing this. Also, we can splurge on dal and rice and not eat spend agonizing hours wondering what to order for lunch which is healthy, tasty and doesn’t pinch the pockets also… we are after all saving up for that Jimmy Choos and that Tag Heuer. It’s still an inspiring story for the grandkids (kids will listen to anything).
So what will we choose?

GERM OF AN IDEA

As kids, we were all told to stop dreaming and start studying, then when we grew up a bit we were again told to stop dreaming and start slogging at work, then came Christopher Nolan who made a whole 148 min film about how dreaming can be a career option for the new age moviegoer.
I’m not a critic, won’t get into the whole technique, style, content, original or inspired mode… this movie is an original in the sense that it picks up a basic fact that we all know (that dreams can be as real as we want them to be) and added so many layers to it that I’d doubt if anybody in the audience could not relate to it.
Yes, like the matrix it went into an alternate reality where one can feel pain (since pain is in the mind and it is the mind which dreams) but the depiction of the whole realm of reality was a masterpiece.
Movies like Inception, Matrix, A Clockwork Orange and No Smoking which question the basic premise of our existence and throw up new ways in how we have perceived reality are always on my Top 10 list
How many time have we dreamt that we win that inter school sprint to impress the new English teacher or flew to office to be on time for that important presentation or have that witty comeback to the hot guy at the bar….weren’t we all heroes in our own dreams playing out in the labyrinth of our minds like a cinemascope Bollywood feature.
In fact I wrote this post immediately after I saw the movie …on my way back home, I whipped up my Mac book and while I was typing, the words literally flew from my fingertips and arranged themselves on the screen, I also detected a faint whiff of smoke when the typing was happening faster than the speed of light. The sidewalks had shed their shabby, muddy and desolate look and wore a happy Grecian architecture with fancy cars zooming past me. The cat atop of the tallest building noticed my typing and was impressed; she let out a faint meow. Exactly 10 sec after uploading this post, I got 19,275,499 hits on my blog and approximately 9,495, 142 calls from various film critics asking if they can use my post as their review. Then the auto reached by humble studio apartment and I got the ‘kick’ in the form of the revised night fare.
Somehow, I wasn’t sure whether I ‘had’ seen the movie or dreamt it all up! But I do remember paying for the tickets!

My Friends turned me into a RACIST

Yes they did, I am a firm believer of the equality of all mankind…. But I didn’t expect them to twist that very word and make womankind as the exception.
As usual it all happened during the dimly lit, noisy and crowded space of the haven of all things Bacchus and bohemian. The idea was to include the pretty young cousin of our pretty young friend (Ok not so young)…. But the lack of interesting conversation points and the urge to impress the ladies resulted in the age old battle of races.
Many times I have wondered why the common man gets bullied by the ruling class into a war among the races…why can’t we decide for ourselves that these so called differences based on color, caste and creed do not matter in today’s time (maybe did not matter in earlier times also)…why do we get swayed so easily when we listen to high pitched opinions of clueless politicians who are firm believers of the East India company’s “DIVIDE & RULE”. Why we, who are educated and fancy free can’t shake off the shackles of race … why we succumb every time to the call of the racial color.
Seeing one of the pretty young things try to assert her independence by defending her race amongst the juvenile barbs of the rest of the motley crew … by seeing the slight flare of her nostrils every time a joke featuring camels, horses or sand dunes were cracked, I suddenly realized that this is how it must have started eons ago… a friendly bullying due to lack of conversation topics must have created the first rift… and although it was irresistible for me NOT to join in the friendly bashing of a culture not so alien to mine… I was not averse to it either.
And hence I became a RACIST!
But who won the battle of races on our table… well since the Rajputs were outnumbered by the coalition of the East Indian, Parsis and people of mixed breed origin (all minorities) …can I take credit (being a warrior tribal from the some jungles of Assam …or so I would like to believe) I think I can be termed an aborigine and claim first right to the motherland. Hey while I am at it, I want a separate state and my own helipad…what I will have to start a war for this… I can’t just claim it as my birthright?? Says who?? …those annoying Kashmiris, Punjabis, Haryanvis, Rajputs, Gujjus, Marathis, Kanndadigas, Tamilians, Mallus, Telegus, Oriyas, Bongs, Bhaiyas, Biharis, Pahadis, Chinkies…and counting
P.S – What do you call a Parsi Pimp? ….Nari Contracter!

Restraining Order

In this age of dime a dozen Fatwas, PILS, RTI acts and eons of such legal babble, it is quite common to hear the phrase Restraining Order or Gag Order. Everyone, right from a delivery boy of trans-fat laden fast food to the waited at hand and feet heir knows the legal parlance made with a quest to confuse.

After immersing myself in the dusty and busy bylanes of Google and Wikipedia, at the cost of much needed sleep and an urge to dash to the toilet for empting myself of bodily fluids every 15 minutes, I completed my research and restrained myself to jump about and celebrate.

But what does this Restraining Order do? According to the heavy and dusty law books - A restraining order or order of protection is a form of legal injunction. The term is most commonly used in reference to domestic violence, harassment, stalking or sexual assault.

While there are differences from state to state or case to case, the bottom line is for the abuser to stay away from someone, their home, their workplace or their school and to stop contacting them. Victims generally also can ask the court to order that all contact, whether by telephone, notes, mail, fax, email or delivery of flowers or gifts, is prohibited.

I have been always been accused of being restrained in my behavior…in the sense that my emotions don’t display themselves in full force. This has always been at variant with my self-belief of being a highly sensitive person.

So when a restraining order was slapped on me by my seniors, I like most Indians jumped in glee …finally here is my road to glory, atleast now everyone will remember me with that faint aftertaste of disdain…. “Oh…she, the one with a restraining order….she was horrible at her work, we all thought she was gonna get under the pressure and with like the others, but she managed to do the unthinkable….like a rabbit out of the hat, she pulled a restraining order and is now the toast of all and sundry…remind me to ask her how she managed to do it”

But I am slightly confused about the Do’s and Don’ts of this order. According to my instructions, I am …

1. Not supposed to interact with the victim
2. Not supposed to make eye contact with the victim
3. Not supposed to greet the victim in a friendly fashion
4. Not supposed to breathe in the general direction of the victim

But does that mean that ….

1. I cannot offer them a hand if they slip on a banana peel (of course they will, I will put the peel for them)
2. I cannot get up and offer a chair in a crowded room (after having made sure that the room has just one less chair than needed)
3. I cannot crack jokes within earshot of the victim
4. I cannot re-interrupt the interruption caused by the victim

Maybe I should just take a hike and dismiss all these as playful imagination as a result of a hectic and unpredictable soirée of Khel Khel Mein.

Dwarfed by Arzee

I have always believed that when a character is created, the inspiration comes from someone real. It could be a friend, an acquaintance, a neighbor or it could be the self.
After reading Arzee the Dwarf written by Chandrahas Choudhury, I am sure that there exists a real Arzee….has to… how can anyone describe a fictional character so real…that if you turn your head, you can actually see him walking past your window, head bowed low muttering to himself. You almost leave your book and start following to hear what he is muttering about… is he making excuses to give to Deepakbhai … that quintessential honcho from the slums …or is he planning to trick Phiroz into playing the Babur himself.
Arzee’s dilemma is as real as the character… no saving the world or becoming a superhero…but getting a raise and marrying a decent girl …that’s all what Arzee wants… but does he get it… is it a happy ending… we will never know…like we don’t know in real life… Chandrahas weaves the plot as gently as he could …never going far from the main character… always seeing things from his perspective.
How many times we are subjected to prose that talks to us through other characters to take the story forward and we all believe that it is essential so that the reader is not bored and there can be some variety …but who needs variety when the central character is so strong. We don’t miss seeing the secondary characters perspective …but we would have liked to know a little bit more about Mobin, Arzee’s brother and Shireen.
No one makes such profound statements anymore...at least in writing...sample this "Love is the true home of the imagination. Requited love is the paradise raised from nothing but a pair of synchronized imaginations!". This sentence defines what the book is.
From the way Arzee the Dwarf was written, I am but waiting for the next book by the author. However, I do believe that this debut novel is not the only piece of published work. If I am not mistaken, a collection of middles was published by the same author and the famous Grandfather and Cronies were created. I’m sure if I search through my haphazardly arranged piles of books I will be able to trace a copy out; which goes to show that the initial days of writing which was greatly influenced by the great P. G. Wodehouse has metamorphosed into a prose full of humour, pathos and delightful vocabulary.