Why am I always waiting for buses that never come?
I don't understand this constant misery
I have chains to my feet
that drag me down.
I deserve to drown in that lake.
Don't tell me I need help
It exists in excess when I don't
Flits away when I do.
Never happy
never satisfied
never stable
Always falling apart
I need the push
so I can fall
I need the ram
so I can break
The sleep,
so I never have to wake up
The shot,
so I never have to think again.
Fuck off.
Please. Just let me die.
Just keep living
Let me vanish without a trace
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Saturday, April 17, 2010
What do I do now?
"Whether or not we admit it to ourselves, we are all haunted by a truly awful sense of impermanence."
- Tennessee Williams
5:07 on the clock.
Inescapable,
Pervasive
Crushing
Lip-biting
tear-wrenching
uncontrollable
Loneliness.
Desire
To see. To destroy.
To touch. To wreck.
Taste. Bite.
Talk. Kill.
Hear. Die.
Why does it matter?
Nobody I can tell.
The inadequacy, it's
a continual
downward spiral.
It pushes up
only so
It can pull down again
Irony.
When you're there
I never am
I've stopped looking out of that window.
20 million people in this city
Yet no chance, no providence
no kismet
that I meet you.
I can't help
this teeth-clenching
tearful
non-verbal
Loneliness.
5.45
On my way home
Maybe I should
find it first.
- Tennessee Williams
5:07 on the clock.
Inescapable,
Pervasive
Crushing
Lip-biting
tear-wrenching
uncontrollable
Loneliness.
Desire
To see. To destroy.
To touch. To wreck.
Taste. Bite.
Talk. Kill.
Hear. Die.
Why does it matter?
Nobody I can tell.
The inadequacy, it's
a continual
downward spiral.
It pushes up
only so
It can pull down again
Irony.
When you're there
I never am
I've stopped looking out of that window.
20 million people in this city
Yet no chance, no providence
no kismet
that I meet you.
I can't help
this teeth-clenching
tearful
non-verbal
Loneliness.
5.45
On my way home
Maybe I should
find it first.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
When 'Girly' triumphed 'Feminist'....
I'm actually a feminist. I border on man-hating, but try to maintain a balance in emotion towards men. (Bitterness isn't good for anyone, you see).
The reason I'm desperately trying to convince you of this, is that it requires conviction, considering the following incident, which occured on my birthday and I felt I had to write on my birthday :-D.
November 16th. Birthday.
6.30 AM
Shiny white quilted wedge heels.
I spend 5 apprehensive minutes, striding between rooms in my Grandparents' (GPs') house. "To wear or not to wear".
I have vague memories of the last time I wore them. Snapshot visuals and a few lines. I and Urja. Feet hurting. Living through it. Very importantly, living through it.
I should love myself, I think. Love my feet. Not take this risk.
But they're so cute....
8.55 AM onwards
"Suk! Nice shoes!" a friend calls, from a parallel bench. I beam, my happiness doubled. Totally worth it.
An hour later, I'm in slight discomfort and looking on to the task of walking to Sterling with distaste. At a book sale, I've shed my shoes and am reading 'The Restricted Joke Book', barefoot.
My steps to VT to meet Urj are punctuated with silent 'Ow ow ow ow ow's and accompanied with clenching fists.
I stumble: forward, to hug Urj,
and then through Colaba Causeway in search of a t-shirt I chose, barefoot again, for Yash.
The next 2 hours that we spend at Crepe Station try their best to make up for the 3 minute walk from Khubsons to the taxi.
The 3 cute firang guys on the way saw my face twisted in agony, fists clenched and stiff gait. Attractive.
6.30 PM
Ritika and I miss 3 trains in pursuit of the elusive comfort of that window seat, so I have something to lean on. She has been unbelievably patient. I would've snapped ages ago.
Took a rickshaw home from the station for the 2nd time in 3 years.
8.00 PM
Made it home just in time. Somehow managed to control the desire to fling the shoes off and very dignifiedly slipped out of them and walked around, acting like nothing was wrong.
Oh no, not that anything was. My feet had only just, on entering the 18th year of their existence in this world, been put through torture to celebrate that very occasion.
I'm sitting in the hall now, 10.30 PM, on the couch which I will pull out to sleep on, and whenever I look up from the book, my eyes collide with the white wedge heels, sitting innocently by the door.
I have not the courage to put them back in the bag they lived in before I drew them out on some girlish whim. (That would involve touching them, see.)
Never Again, I decide. I'm never touching those shoes again.
Although, turning 18 does instill in one, knowledge of one's cyclical thought processes.
2 months later, I'll probably look at those shoes and rack my brains to remember why exactly I have avoided these 'nice shoes' for so long. At that time, I'll probably remember the thought, not the feeling.
A cycle, you see, of forgetfulness, optimism and a slavish desire to look good is what drives this femal masochism.
And, as I've discovered, it isn't something feminists are immune to either.
The reason I'm desperately trying to convince you of this, is that it requires conviction, considering the following incident, which occured on my birthday and I felt I had to write on my birthday :-D.
November 16th. Birthday.
6.30 AM
Shiny white quilted wedge heels.
I spend 5 apprehensive minutes, striding between rooms in my Grandparents' (GPs') house. "To wear or not to wear".
I have vague memories of the last time I wore them. Snapshot visuals and a few lines. I and Urja. Feet hurting. Living through it. Very importantly, living through it.
I should love myself, I think. Love my feet. Not take this risk.
But they're so cute....
8.55 AM onwards
"Suk! Nice shoes!" a friend calls, from a parallel bench. I beam, my happiness doubled. Totally worth it.
An hour later, I'm in slight discomfort and looking on to the task of walking to Sterling with distaste. At a book sale, I've shed my shoes and am reading 'The Restricted Joke Book', barefoot.
My steps to VT to meet Urj are punctuated with silent 'Ow ow ow ow ow's and accompanied with clenching fists.
I stumble: forward, to hug Urj,
and then through Colaba Causeway in search of a t-shirt I chose, barefoot again, for Yash.
The next 2 hours that we spend at Crepe Station try their best to make up for the 3 minute walk from Khubsons to the taxi.
The 3 cute firang guys on the way saw my face twisted in agony, fists clenched and stiff gait. Attractive.
6.30 PM
Ritika and I miss 3 trains in pursuit of the elusive comfort of that window seat, so I have something to lean on. She has been unbelievably patient. I would've snapped ages ago.
Took a rickshaw home from the station for the 2nd time in 3 years.
8.00 PM
Made it home just in time. Somehow managed to control the desire to fling the shoes off and very dignifiedly slipped out of them and walked around, acting like nothing was wrong.
Oh no, not that anything was. My feet had only just, on entering the 18th year of their existence in this world, been put through torture to celebrate that very occasion.
I'm sitting in the hall now, 10.30 PM, on the couch which I will pull out to sleep on, and whenever I look up from the book, my eyes collide with the white wedge heels, sitting innocently by the door.
I have not the courage to put them back in the bag they lived in before I drew them out on some girlish whim. (That would involve touching them, see.)
Never Again, I decide. I'm never touching those shoes again.
Although, turning 18 does instill in one, knowledge of one's cyclical thought processes.
2 months later, I'll probably look at those shoes and rack my brains to remember why exactly I have avoided these 'nice shoes' for so long. At that time, I'll probably remember the thought, not the feeling.
A cycle, you see, of forgetfulness, optimism and a slavish desire to look good is what drives this femal masochism.
And, as I've discovered, it isn't something feminists are immune to either.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Why I'm an 'Azad Kashmir' convert. The really Azad Kashmir, that is.
So apparently my last post was whiny. Well, yeah, it was. So here is a break from me.
I now believe that Kashmir has the right to be an independent state if that's what the people want. No, I did no support Khalistan (wasn't born then, but whatever)and donot support the slowly crazing Bal Thackeray's proclamations of Maharashtra being bigger than Nehru. But I support Azad Kashmir.
Yes, I doubt Kashmir has the resources and military strength to protect itself from the inevitable Pakistani attempt to conquer it, and yes, it will be very very fragile, but they should be given a chance.
An excerpt from Wikipedia:
"Pakistan claims that the insurgents in Kashmir are Jammu and Kashmir citizens, and they are rising up against the Indian Army in an independence movement. It also says the Indian Army is committing serious human rights violations to the citizens of Jammu and Kashmir. It denies that it is giving armed help to the insurgents.
India claims these insurgents are Islamic terrorist groups from Pakistan-administered Kashmir and Afghanistan, fighting to make Jammu and Kashmir part of Pakistan.It believes Pakistan is giving armed help to the terrorists, and training them in Pakistan. It also says the terrorists have been killing many citizens in Kashmir, and committing human rights violations, while denying that its own armed forces are responsible for the human rights abuses."
In all this, where are the Kashmiris?
I, for one, know very little about this. Media reports showcase the political parties and countries blaming eachother for the violence (never elaborated) in Kashmir. What do I really know of the Kashmiris? The people who live there, what do they want?
Do they feel tired and helpless? Do they want to be Pakistanis or Indians? (Although that question won't make a concrete difference, they'll be equally ill-treated on either side of the border, I have come to believe.)
A sensible Kashmiri wants to be neither, hopefully. Anyone who believes that Pakistan is going to treat them better than India is fooling him/herself because:
a) The Taliban now slowly gaining on Pak, in spite of the army's recent small victory over them.
b) It is, after all, Pakistan. No offence to anyone, but they've always wanted to announce their territorial rights over Kashmir. And if they can send insurgents and declare war at the fall of a hat, they are capable of much worse.
Also, Pakistan is vulnerable economically, thanks to having pumped all their aid money into the development of nuclear weaponry. (O.K., no actual proof of that, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the direct relationship between increasing aid from the US and reports of Pak's nuclear weapons)
So, hopefully, Kashmiris want Kashmir, not Pakistan. Nor India.
How do I start elaborating on my possibly one-sided account of why India should let Kashmir be?
I already have. The fact that I (and possibly you, too) know so little about them, about public opinion on the matter. Is the National Conference more important than the average Kashmiri? Although recently the Kashmiris have expressed hope for change by showing an astonishing turn-out of 60% for the last elections (Where NC and not PPP won)despite a Pakistani call to boycott it.
Secondly, the Indian army. Kargil was a stupenduous, praiseworthy victory. The Indian Army did much better than expected. Militancy rates have fallen. Where, in 2005, 557 civilians fell victims to militancy, the number fell to 91 in 2008. Shabash.
But what of Shopian? The gang-rape and murder of two young women in the valley has led to much protesting and stone-throwing. Truthfully, I find it pretty easy to believe that army personnel were involved. A bunch of young men, stuck without female company in a place far away from home, drunk on the power only having a killing machine in your hand can give the youth. Pretty easy to believe they did it.
There have been reports of Army crimes for a while now (could admittedly be the work of external forces), but here is a concrete case which makes me change my opinion on a piece of my country.
Thirdly, the fact that the Kashmiris appear a peaceful lot who sincerely want a chance to be in control; simply because those who are now, are dissatisfactory to them. This is no MNS or Shiv Sena that riots at the slightest provocation(and lack, thereof), this is a state that resorts to complete shut-downs and stone-throwing at murders and rapes believed to be by the Army meant to protect them.
Fourthly, and unexpectedly, after much searching, I found this:
"Two US based research institutes (the Program on International Policy Attitudes and the WorldPublicOpinion.Org) have conducted a survey in Indian and Pakistani Kashmir regions on what Kashmiris want. The survey, which the groups say is the first of its kind on both sides of the de facto border, shows that Kashmiris feel they are being used by rivals India and Pakistan to advance those countries' agendas. For both India and Pakistan, Kashmir is strategic and has become a matter of prestige over the years."
I have to admit, there is nothing in this that I can honestly and rightly defend my beloved (no sarcasm intended) India against. It is definitely a matter of prestige that we have Kashmir, and on many levels it is rubbed in.
I'm sure there must be a number of other reasons for and against my current support for Azad Kashmir (really Azad, not the Pakistani meaning, which is 'free from India').
However, in the end, I believe that this is no Khalistan. No one is threatening to blow us up if we don't give in to their (I'm beginning to believe righteous) demands. These are people who are simply asking that we stop using them (whether or not we actually are, if they feel that way, it matters).
It is simple decency that we admit we may not be 'all that', and give them their country.
Admittedly, there have to be a 100 things I amn't thinking about, like how this is going to fuel Gorkhaland, and possibly Maharashtra and Punjab, and what effect this will have on our revenue, exports etc.
(28 freedom movements will probably start out in 28 different states and everyone would rate being a Maharashtrian or Tamilian higher than being an Indian.)
But Kashmir deserves some dignity after 62 years of being brawled over.
Also, who is listening anyway? ;-)
I now believe that Kashmir has the right to be an independent state if that's what the people want. No, I did no support Khalistan (wasn't born then, but whatever)and donot support the slowly crazing Bal Thackeray's proclamations of Maharashtra being bigger than Nehru. But I support Azad Kashmir.
Yes, I doubt Kashmir has the resources and military strength to protect itself from the inevitable Pakistani attempt to conquer it, and yes, it will be very very fragile, but they should be given a chance.
An excerpt from Wikipedia:
"Pakistan claims that the insurgents in Kashmir are Jammu and Kashmir citizens, and they are rising up against the Indian Army in an independence movement. It also says the Indian Army is committing serious human rights violations to the citizens of Jammu and Kashmir. It denies that it is giving armed help to the insurgents.
India claims these insurgents are Islamic terrorist groups from Pakistan-administered Kashmir and Afghanistan, fighting to make Jammu and Kashmir part of Pakistan.It believes Pakistan is giving armed help to the terrorists, and training them in Pakistan. It also says the terrorists have been killing many citizens in Kashmir, and committing human rights violations, while denying that its own armed forces are responsible for the human rights abuses."
In all this, where are the Kashmiris?
I, for one, know very little about this. Media reports showcase the political parties and countries blaming eachother for the violence (never elaborated) in Kashmir. What do I really know of the Kashmiris? The people who live there, what do they want?
Do they feel tired and helpless? Do they want to be Pakistanis or Indians? (Although that question won't make a concrete difference, they'll be equally ill-treated on either side of the border, I have come to believe.)
A sensible Kashmiri wants to be neither, hopefully. Anyone who believes that Pakistan is going to treat them better than India is fooling him/herself because:
a) The Taliban now slowly gaining on Pak, in spite of the army's recent small victory over them.
b) It is, after all, Pakistan. No offence to anyone, but they've always wanted to announce their territorial rights over Kashmir. And if they can send insurgents and declare war at the fall of a hat, they are capable of much worse.
Also, Pakistan is vulnerable economically, thanks to having pumped all their aid money into the development of nuclear weaponry. (O.K., no actual proof of that, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the direct relationship between increasing aid from the US and reports of Pak's nuclear weapons)
So, hopefully, Kashmiris want Kashmir, not Pakistan. Nor India.
How do I start elaborating on my possibly one-sided account of why India should let Kashmir be?
I already have. The fact that I (and possibly you, too) know so little about them, about public opinion on the matter. Is the National Conference more important than the average Kashmiri? Although recently the Kashmiris have expressed hope for change by showing an astonishing turn-out of 60% for the last elections (Where NC and not PPP won)despite a Pakistani call to boycott it.
Secondly, the Indian army. Kargil was a stupenduous, praiseworthy victory. The Indian Army did much better than expected. Militancy rates have fallen. Where, in 2005, 557 civilians fell victims to militancy, the number fell to 91 in 2008. Shabash.
But what of Shopian? The gang-rape and murder of two young women in the valley has led to much protesting and stone-throwing. Truthfully, I find it pretty easy to believe that army personnel were involved. A bunch of young men, stuck without female company in a place far away from home, drunk on the power only having a killing machine in your hand can give the youth. Pretty easy to believe they did it.
There have been reports of Army crimes for a while now (could admittedly be the work of external forces), but here is a concrete case which makes me change my opinion on a piece of my country.
Thirdly, the fact that the Kashmiris appear a peaceful lot who sincerely want a chance to be in control; simply because those who are now, are dissatisfactory to them. This is no MNS or Shiv Sena that riots at the slightest provocation(and lack, thereof), this is a state that resorts to complete shut-downs and stone-throwing at murders and rapes believed to be by the Army meant to protect them.
Fourthly, and unexpectedly, after much searching, I found this:
"Two US based research institutes (the Program on International Policy Attitudes and the WorldPublicOpinion.Org) have conducted a survey in Indian and Pakistani Kashmir regions on what Kashmiris want. The survey, which the groups say is the first of its kind on both sides of the de facto border, shows that Kashmiris feel they are being used by rivals India and Pakistan to advance those countries' agendas. For both India and Pakistan, Kashmir is strategic and has become a matter of prestige over the years."
I have to admit, there is nothing in this that I can honestly and rightly defend my beloved (no sarcasm intended) India against. It is definitely a matter of prestige that we have Kashmir, and on many levels it is rubbed in.
I'm sure there must be a number of other reasons for and against my current support for Azad Kashmir (really Azad, not the Pakistani meaning, which is 'free from India').
However, in the end, I believe that this is no Khalistan. No one is threatening to blow us up if we don't give in to their (I'm beginning to believe righteous) demands. These are people who are simply asking that we stop using them (whether or not we actually are, if they feel that way, it matters).
It is simple decency that we admit we may not be 'all that', and give them their country.
Admittedly, there have to be a 100 things I amn't thinking about, like how this is going to fuel Gorkhaland, and possibly Maharashtra and Punjab, and what effect this will have on our revenue, exports etc.
(28 freedom movements will probably start out in 28 different states and everyone would rate being a Maharashtrian or Tamilian higher than being an Indian.)
But Kashmir deserves some dignity after 62 years of being brawled over.
Also, who is listening anyway? ;-)
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Lucky Loser : part 2.0
I've not run out of topics to write about by any means. I mean, there are the obvious: homosexuality, James Franco, Shiney Ahuja, Johnny Depp, recurrent flooding/drought, Shah Rukh Khan..... And yet. Be prepared to be subjected to another bout of lucky loser emotions.
So whats with me today? Nothing really. I'm just sick and tired of being persuaded to audition for that one singing/ creative writing competition, that I know I'll never win. Because even though I'm good, I'm not them.
Winners are so used to outracing us on our turf, they don't even think about it anymore. They come. They see. They conquer. So where do we figure? I'm still figuring that one out.
Why do we always get past the elims but not into the finals?
Why do we always have the stamina but not the speed?
Why are we continually oscillating between optimism and pessimism - tired of being broken by the former and bogged down by the later?
Why are there so many of us?
And while we're dealing with all the above, why do random people we barely know come up and tell us juicy stuff about their love-lives and seal it all with a "Don't tell anyone, alright?" - thereby destroying the chances of ever feeling good about anything?
Also, why do the people who don't get to hear stuff like the above always envy us for the same?
So, I think today's quota of ranting is done, but I still have to say this to the winners:
I may not be the smartest or the sharpest. I maynot come up with whacky ideas and perfect, attention-grabbing advertisements for the college fest. I'll probably always be the dull, worried girl-next-door and hate myself for it.
But I still have this blog to bitch about you. :-D
Love and minimised loserhood to all!
XO.
PS. I think 'Serial DayDreamer' is a better name for me; what do you think?
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Fat Girl Diaries: Love and a lot of us.
"It's not all that difficult," Someone told me recently "to look past what is on the outside." If I agreed, there would be no blog. It is, I say, ridiculously difficult and tiring to look past the 'looks' and into the person, and I for one would rather just observe than judge. So here's a blog I'm sure most readers won't agree with.
Looking at my (and that of a number of people I know) romantic past, I would say a majority agrees. With me. Its not just the physical looks I mean, but the number of unneccessary, irrelevant defences that people put up when faced with other people. Sometimes it gets way too hard to tell where the defences end and the 'person' begins. And this lecture is now going way off the topic.
I started watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S about 10 months ago. Needless to say, I love it and don't mind watching reruns in the least. I've now also successfully classified my friends into Rachel, Pheobe, Monica, Ross, Chandler and Joey - types. No-one is exactly one of these characters, but they all have some dominant traits. I won't go through all of them, but will proceed to the most important comparisons.
Rachel - beautiful, fashion-oriented, looking for love and is eternally hopeful.
Monica - obssessive, compulsive, competitive. Once fat, but now skinny and beautiful. Seems to direct her love for food towards cooking rather than eating. (I wish)
I think its unneccessary, since I'm writing this blog, to mention that I'm a Monica. Like her, I'm obsessive-compulsive, competitve and... still fat. I love cooking, but I've discovered that when you cook, eating is tiresome. Which is not to say that I'm a bad cook (not at all), but by the time I'm done cooking, I'm so tired, I don't want to eat.
Monica dates a number of men over the seasons, finally settling for Chandler, whom she'd unsuccessfully tried to woo during high school. The sitcom ended with the two, happily married and adopting twins. Nice ending, right? Not for us 'real' women. The point put across, subtly enough was, Monica found romantic bliss only when she lost weight and became what the men around her wanted to see in her.
Then there was the memorable episode when Monica and Ross realised that they'd kissed after a college party (when Monica was still fat), each imagining the other to be someone else.
Ross : "You were my first kiss with Rachel?!"
Monica : "You were my first kiss EVER?!"
Its not just F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Even Meg Cabot - a woman who I believe is as worldly wise as Gabriel Garcia Marquez in her own way - puts this point across in 'Queen of Babble', the story of sweet blabber-mouth, budding vintage wedding-dress salvager Lizzie Nichols who finds happiness with first Luke and then Chaz after she loses 30 pounds for her English boyfriend Andrew (at the start of the book) by 'not touching a bread crumb for 6 months'.
And very honestly, I would prefer a hot guy to a nice guy. At least to look at. ;-)
Need I say more? Monica had to loose weight to get back at (and with) Chandler, so did Lizzie and numerous other women around the world. So lets give up the pretences, shall we? And accept the universal truth. What is on the outside matters. A lot more than what is on the inside.
Looking at my (and that of a number of people I know) romantic past, I would say a majority agrees. With me. Its not just the physical looks I mean, but the number of unneccessary, irrelevant defences that people put up when faced with other people. Sometimes it gets way too hard to tell where the defences end and the 'person' begins. And this lecture is now going way off the topic.
I started watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S about 10 months ago. Needless to say, I love it and don't mind watching reruns in the least. I've now also successfully classified my friends into Rachel, Pheobe, Monica, Ross, Chandler and Joey - types. No-one is exactly one of these characters, but they all have some dominant traits. I won't go through all of them, but will proceed to the most important comparisons.
Rachel - beautiful, fashion-oriented, looking for love and is eternally hopeful.
Monica - obssessive, compulsive, competitive. Once fat, but now skinny and beautiful. Seems to direct her love for food towards cooking rather than eating. (I wish)
I think its unneccessary, since I'm writing this blog, to mention that I'm a Monica. Like her, I'm obsessive-compulsive, competitve and... still fat. I love cooking, but I've discovered that when you cook, eating is tiresome. Which is not to say that I'm a bad cook (not at all), but by the time I'm done cooking, I'm so tired, I don't want to eat.
Monica dates a number of men over the seasons, finally settling for Chandler, whom she'd unsuccessfully tried to woo during high school. The sitcom ended with the two, happily married and adopting twins. Nice ending, right? Not for us 'real' women. The point put across, subtly enough was, Monica found romantic bliss only when she lost weight and became what the men around her wanted to see in her.
Then there was the memorable episode when Monica and Ross realised that they'd kissed after a college party (when Monica was still fat), each imagining the other to be someone else.
Ross : "You were my first kiss with Rachel?!"
Monica : "You were my first kiss EVER?!"
Its not just F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Even Meg Cabot - a woman who I believe is as worldly wise as Gabriel Garcia Marquez in her own way - puts this point across in 'Queen of Babble', the story of sweet blabber-mouth, budding vintage wedding-dress salvager Lizzie Nichols who finds happiness with first Luke and then Chaz after she loses 30 pounds for her English boyfriend Andrew (at the start of the book) by 'not touching a bread crumb for 6 months'.
And very honestly, I would prefer a hot guy to a nice guy. At least to look at. ;-)
Need I say more? Monica had to loose weight to get back at (and with) Chandler, so did Lizzie and numerous other women around the world. So lets give up the pretences, shall we? And accept the universal truth. What is on the outside matters. A lot more than what is on the inside.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
The 'Pub Culture': why people want to stop us having fun...
I'm a fan of Raghu Ram (Roadies' Executive Producer). I was going through a list of communities on a social networking site recently when I spotted what promised to be an interesting community on him. I can't say it disappointed. Amongst a number of pictures (including those with his wife and brother. And with hair. Yeah, he looks better without it.), debates, miscellaneous information etc., I found the following You Tube link to his debate-interview on Headlines Todaywith a couple of cultural hardliners owing their allegiances to the BJP: http://www.youtube.com/watch?gl=IN&hl=en-GB&v=oHwLWU9fXRk
This debate was held shortly after the Mangalore incident where the members of the Sri Ram Sene beat up young girls at a pub for corrupting their 'culture'.
Also, I found a group named 'Money, sex and politics' on the same site. On further investigation, I found the most recent topic of discussion to be 'Why are women assaulted?', which set the feminist in me thinking.
Though I wouldn't react like Mr. Ram did - he loses his cool way too soon - I agree with him. The fact that women alone were physically assaulted in the Mangalore incident, reveals one of the hidden aspects of our culture.
The conviction that if women are to be 'protected' from the eyes of men (or, as of recently, rape), they must take the necessary precautions themselves by covering themselves from head-to-toe and refraining from doing anything that may make them appear desirable, including partying, and now for some strange reason, drinking.
Men brought up with this particular ideology seem to believe that if a woman indulges in either of the above activities, she is asking to be raped or molested, and hence indulge her. Women alone must be in control of themselves (and men), and what a man does or sees is entirely inconsequential for he can't control himself. Lets admit it: that is our culture.
Or so the hardliners, most of whom are politicians, would like us to believe.
I'm not going to quote the hundreds of places in Hindu mythology where women have been appreciated sexually, or sex itself has been accepted as a part of life - even sexual experimentation.
Lord Shiva was a bit of an outcast among Gods, according to a recent report in the Sunday Mid-Day. He mixed with the 'evil', hung around in cemetries, often was naked, wore skulls, his symbol was mysteriously sexual (the lingam. Look it up.), danced destruction.... Sound familiar? He was by far the most experimentative God, the one who tried everything the others didn't, and yet managed to be pure of intention. Some other Gods are said to have treated him with a mixture of mocking and fear.
The way I see it, this generation is the Shiva of India. We experiment, but don't mean harm. At least, most of us. And the other generations, who can't see the change postively, attempt to hold us back. True, alchoholism is dangerous. But did it just pop into the scene as a result of the 'pub culture'? Weren't men alchoholic as a result of the 'desi daru' joints too?
If anything, the freedom to party and work and express themselves creatively - even small freedoms like dressing as you want to encourage you to express your opinions - have made women take a stand against domestic violence and oppression of any kind.
Women are definitely more in control of themselves; but it doesn't validate a man not being in control of himself. People who endorse our 'culture' need to start looking in terms of people, and not men and women. For those who differentiate on that basis always tend to look for female reasons for male misdeeds. (Think, the sena)
It makes me look back to the quote in 'A thousand splendid suns' by Khalid Hooseini :
"Where there is a finger to point, there will always be a woman to point it at"
The line was written with reference to Islamic culture (or rather, Taliban culture), but I see definite parallels with the politician's version of Indian culture, which people all over are accepting, as you will find on reading the comments on the video mentioned before.
A priest's interview from Ayodhya, I thought agreed with this particular view. He mentioned not tolerance, but an natural acceptance of eachother's religions by Hindus and Muslims in Ayodhya, before the politically affiliated hardliners destroyed Babri masjid. True religion, I have come to believe, is a personal faith in a God/Gods that is affected not by the things that others around you believe, but what you do.
To those who support the politically spouted version of Indian culture: try to define what the culture is. I love India too, but if our culture can dictate that a woman throw herself into her husband's funeral pyre, then I have come to accept that it can endorse a number of other as yet unrealized evils.
When you wave those evils away, what remains is love and acceptance; and funnily, that has nothing to do with the existence or absence of pubs.
This debate was held shortly after the Mangalore incident where the members of the Sri Ram Sene beat up young girls at a pub for corrupting their 'culture'.
Also, I found a group named 'Money, sex and politics' on the same site. On further investigation, I found the most recent topic of discussion to be 'Why are women assaulted?', which set the feminist in me thinking.
Though I wouldn't react like Mr. Ram did - he loses his cool way too soon - I agree with him. The fact that women alone were physically assaulted in the Mangalore incident, reveals one of the hidden aspects of our culture.
The conviction that if women are to be 'protected' from the eyes of men (or, as of recently, rape), they must take the necessary precautions themselves by covering themselves from head-to-toe and refraining from doing anything that may make them appear desirable, including partying, and now for some strange reason, drinking.
Men brought up with this particular ideology seem to believe that if a woman indulges in either of the above activities, she is asking to be raped or molested, and hence indulge her. Women alone must be in control of themselves (and men), and what a man does or sees is entirely inconsequential for he can't control himself. Lets admit it: that is our culture.
Or so the hardliners, most of whom are politicians, would like us to believe.
I'm not going to quote the hundreds of places in Hindu mythology where women have been appreciated sexually, or sex itself has been accepted as a part of life - even sexual experimentation.
Lord Shiva was a bit of an outcast among Gods, according to a recent report in the Sunday Mid-Day. He mixed with the 'evil', hung around in cemetries, often was naked, wore skulls, his symbol was mysteriously sexual (the lingam. Look it up.), danced destruction.... Sound familiar? He was by far the most experimentative God, the one who tried everything the others didn't, and yet managed to be pure of intention. Some other Gods are said to have treated him with a mixture of mocking and fear.
The way I see it, this generation is the Shiva of India. We experiment, but don't mean harm. At least, most of us. And the other generations, who can't see the change postively, attempt to hold us back. True, alchoholism is dangerous. But did it just pop into the scene as a result of the 'pub culture'? Weren't men alchoholic as a result of the 'desi daru' joints too?
If anything, the freedom to party and work and express themselves creatively - even small freedoms like dressing as you want to encourage you to express your opinions - have made women take a stand against domestic violence and oppression of any kind.
Women are definitely more in control of themselves; but it doesn't validate a man not being in control of himself. People who endorse our 'culture' need to start looking in terms of people, and not men and women. For those who differentiate on that basis always tend to look for female reasons for male misdeeds. (Think, the sena)
It makes me look back to the quote in 'A thousand splendid suns' by Khalid Hooseini :
"Where there is a finger to point, there will always be a woman to point it at"
The line was written with reference to Islamic culture (or rather, Taliban culture), but I see definite parallels with the politician's version of Indian culture, which people all over are accepting, as you will find on reading the comments on the video mentioned before.
A priest's interview from Ayodhya, I thought agreed with this particular view. He mentioned not tolerance, but an natural acceptance of eachother's religions by Hindus and Muslims in Ayodhya, before the politically affiliated hardliners destroyed Babri masjid. True religion, I have come to believe, is a personal faith in a God/Gods that is affected not by the things that others around you believe, but what you do.
To those who support the politically spouted version of Indian culture: try to define what the culture is. I love India too, but if our culture can dictate that a woman throw herself into her husband's funeral pyre, then I have come to accept that it can endorse a number of other as yet unrealized evils.
When you wave those evils away, what remains is love and acceptance; and funnily, that has nothing to do with the existence or absence of pubs.
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