A whole new world

Last week, I was reading a paperback by one of the most popular medical fiction writers of our time, one of my erstwhile faves and to speak the truth, it was a little disappointing as it could easily be classified as his most sorry book ever. You keep turning the book expecting the twist to come in at any moment until towards the end you realize that’s exactly what the writer was banking on too. Needless to say, I am yet to finish the book. Okay, the book was ‘Abduction’ by Robin Cook. The book is about a group comprising of a team of researchers, a couple of homophobic rogue underwater divers and a ship owner who get sucked into some sort of utopian world (hold your breath, which is actually underground, ala Atlantis of the ancient Greek mythology). The world is as the world should be sans violence, sans ugliness, death, decease. To top it off, everything including reproduction has been automated, all the work is done by worker clones (some sort of biotechnological individuals). People are forever young as they have achieved body soul dualism which means that they can download their brain data (something called the essence) into some sort of server and upload it onto a new body every time the old one gets, yes, old. The inhabitants are called the Interterrans who look like humans but are unnaturally good looking. Love is a free for all game. Everybody mates with everybody they like, people are very open about their feelings and they have discovered the ultimate aphrodisiac, a cream which you apply on to your palms to lead you on to ecstasy. Nobody owns anything as everything is aplenty and people are free to use all they want.
Too much of a good thing which is exactly what the protagonists feel too and can’t wait to get out of that place except that they cannot. The most refined amongst them finds the place boring. “Nothing ever happens”. The most immature amongst them gets over the initial euphoria of all the "hot girls" then finds to his dismay he is just not enjoying all the good things without the chase. Which leads you to believe whether violence is something we crave for in our primitive state? If evolution is the goal of existence, will humans ever evolve so much that they will give up violence and evolve into god-like creatures. Even when I speak, don’t you find yourself rolling your eyes and wanting to ask me to shut up and stop sermonizing. So here is the conclusion. For all our pretensions of nicety and goodness and gandhiji, we don’t like to be gods nor do we prefer gods. We want the mix of the good and the bad in people as well as in the world around us. The very same emotion repels us from people whom we find to be too nice or too nasty. Period, we just don’t trust them. Me thinks it is a little something the god put in our genes to ensure we don’t stay on forever in this universe or maybe he put it in to ensure we do. Who knows??

How I achieved enlightenment

Okay, I have a confession to make. I am a total night bird. My senses awake at 12 in the night and I thrive in the complete quietness where I am actually able to listen to myself and make sense of all the things that went on during the day. Have you ever found yourself so lost and confused and you don't even know what on earth is bothering you. Then you have these aha moments in the middle of the night when enlightenment strikes and you can almost see the halo around your head. Enlightenment strikes at the kundalini which I am assuming is connected to the back of the brain. For that to come to the forefront the frontal brain has to be occupied with something totally irrelevant, something so nonsensical that all the alpha matter just flows through to the back end. One of my favourite nonsensical things to do in the middle of the night is watch old film songs especially those of the 80's and the 90's, now dont jump to conclusions about me being a lover of the oldies. I enjoy the noveau as much as the golden era, in fact, I dont think the era even matter,  good music is just that, good. Anyways, going back to the 80's, times were such that we were so devoid of entertainment that Krishi Darshan telecasts at 6 in the evening by Delhi Doordarshan would be a much awaited program by the whole family. It was during an era like this that filmmakers could get away with almost anything which passed off as cinema. I remember one of my fave pastimes in those days once the cable operators kicked in, of course in the company of my wicked sister, was to watch hindi films and songs (sometimes even tamil, though much more tolerable I should say). We loved to boo and laugh and criticize all the artificial gimmickry and oversentimentality and of course the sickening predictability of the plot. My brother used to feel sorry for the carcasses of the hero and heroine lying around our drawing room which would have been verbally bitten, chewed and spitted out condescending all over the place. I am sure every generation had their own idea of romance. But forgive me, which young gal/guy at any time ever actually found the idea of 40 year old uncles and aunties prancing around the bushes appealing and romantic (am referring to the seventies here). And what exactly was the choreographer thinking or trying to convey for that matter when when he made the hero and the heroine hold impossibly difficult poses with the heroine standing on one leg (you could almost see the poor things femur muscles twitching with the discomfort) and the poor hero who would very often be half her size trying to hold her still for a whole minute. Was this unbridled passion:)). And sorry for barking out loud for the trend continues to this date. Whatever happened to mystery and masculinity (the prerequisites of romance) and why on earth were the males made to dance like women. Do you realize how you might actually mislead children growing up on a staple diet of these. They might actually grow up thinking that post marriage their parents went to the nearest hill station and danced in the local park to carefully choreographed uniform steps..... And when they got tired, just dropped to the ground and rolled over the grass and lifted their heads as if they have just had the most exhilarating trip of their lives. Honest to God, we kids tried this on our trip to Ooty. We got up feeling totally dizzy and starry eyed. One of my favourites of those times was the director's idea of portraying innocence and young girl's ready to mate attitude at the same time. It very often involved a city girl making a trip all the way to the nearest nature's haven and singing songs all my herself in the corn field waving her dupatta in the wind running along in artificial slow-motion wearing a plain yellow, green or red saree where the hero would spot her and swoop in for the kill. If you are ever feeling low, all you need to do is mute (mind you mute your TV) and switch on one of these channels and you will get to see the most bizarre human behavior ever enough to send you into splits of laughter. You need the right company though with the right sense of humour. Coming back to the original point, this my friend is the greatest ever use of TV. It shuts off your senses so that your back end kundalini has a chance. God, if only the poor Buddha had known about this. Try this and let me know what you think.

My version of feminism

Today is woman's day and countless articles are being written about the essence of a woman. What does feminism mean to me. I am badly tempted to reel off the usual cliched answers - freedom to pursue your passion, freedom to do what you want, to be considered at par with men. Is there something I havent heard before? Hmmmm. what do I really want, what special privilege on account of being a woman. Bingo. I dont want any special privileges. I don't want to be considered some special endangered species. Damn it, I AM half the population and I created the other half. This is our world and why should we have a special day for ourselves. Every day is our day. Why a woman's day, a chosen day to honour the women............., as if that were the only day that half the population is supposed to be honoured carrying with it the intrinsic meaning that the other half rules. The whole thing seems like a ploy to indirectly convey to the women exactly what they are fighting against. If it is to highlight the plight of the downtrodden, then it shouldn't be called the woman's day. It is a sad reality that anywhere we see words like downtrodden, atrocities, poverty stricken, nine out of ten times it is a woman or her child who is at the receiving end. It should thus be called the humans day as these can very well be termed atrocities against humanity. There you have it. This is what I want as a woman. Not to be reminded that I am a woman every time I do something. To go about my life as normally as any other inhabitant of this planet. I realize I have been fortunate to be raised as an individual and not as a "woman" . This might very well have prompted my above comments what could be considered by many an ignoramus as being ultra-feminised. The point I am trying to make is its all in the upbringing. Let every parent bring up her child as a normal individual without any gender bias, without reminding her that she will forever be part of a privileged lot, giving her the belief that she can do exactly what she wants and she need not be bound by the opinion or whims and fancies of any other individual, be it male or female.
Let me know what you think.............................

Misdirected patriotism

"India Jeetega" belted out the latest chips ad on TV the other day. And I was reminded of all the times when we suddenly remember our patriotism - on the cricket field in a match against Pakistan and an LOC war with the same guys. Countless number of times I have wondered about the true meaning of patriotism. WHAT EXACTLY IS PATRIOTISM? Is it belching out songs like "Sabse Aage Honge Hindustani" or the famous Govinda hit from the eighties "It happens only in India" with Shilpa Shetty pouting and gyrating to the same song. Honestly these songs make me want to puke let alone pull at my patriotic heartstrings. I just dont see how shouting at the rooftops declaring 'India is the best" will actually make India the best. Or if the objective is to make the average Indian proud by drumming the fact into him, well, they sure are underestimating the IQ of the average. If the objective is to declare it to the world then they better think twice cause we look ridiculous. It will be akin to seeing an Ethiopian or Somalian band singing about plenty in their land. There is a condescending humour in watching a less developed nation making proclamations about their greatness when milllions in the country are dying of hunger and people have become immune to injustice and corruption and inequality is rising by the minute. Obviously the ones having the luxury of singing such nonsense belong to the higher end of the food spectrum. Love for my nation is going to the last thing on my mind when my children are starving and my tin roof is leaking and my brother is contemplating suicide due to inability to meet payments. Or is it singing Sare Jahan Se Accha or Vande Mataram on Republic day against the unfurling of the national flag. Whom am I expressing my love to. Am I expressing my love for the real estate that constitutes India or the people that constitute the inhabitants of the land. If it is the latter, I am finding it extremely difficult to correlate the emotion on people's faces when they hear the national anthem to the actual love if any that they exhibit towards the object of their patriotism. Such apathy and indifference to the injustice happening everywhere and what exactly is making them so proud. Would love to hear from everybody on this.

My first blog

Hmm, so here I am. Having created a blog months back, today I actually got around to try posting an article. So what do I write about. I think I will just go with the flow and not limit myself to any genre ranging from the humorous to the serious. This way I might just find my forte. Just realising I am just penning my thoughts. So hmm, since we jut crossed it, let me write about Valentines day. My earliest memories of Valentines day dates back to Chennai when the Archies shops sprung up all over the place. My sister used to spend little fortunes buying inconsequentials in the name of gifts for all her friends mostly momentoes. I always wondered why isnt that she could not buy something more useful than a 2 inch puffy doggy sitting on a golden chair or a little teddy bear with the I love you sprawled across its chest. She was the pampered in the family. almost like she was born to be cuddled and cooed all her life and the trend continues till date. Ha, dont get me wrong, no sibling rivalry here, cause I was one of the major cuddlers then and now. Anyways, talking about sisters, aint I glad I have one albeit a little selfish but mostly loving one, a little sister cum part daughter, she has a great sense of humour and can light up my most bluish days. I remember driving off with her on my Kinetic (I used to be a little rash in those days with my driving), and she holding on for dear life and us missing a paan spit just as we overtook a bus and her remarking with much valour "Justi missi". Today when I see my daughters I hope they share the same camraderie that I do with my sis. Today she is all grown up and responsible (nah, whom am I kidding) but she is still the same old sis who rushed and hid her face in my dress when I did the dark room, blanket over face and torch below monster.