Looking me in the eye, he said… and I wondered why

This Friday noon, seated in my living room, on my sofa, looking me in my naked eye, an elderly cousin said, “I didn’t inform you of the event…because you are allergic to Malayalam…”

A loose comment by an elderly, who’ve spent donkey’s years and more away from his homeland, should be termed just that, I told myself in order to continue drooling in the weekend groove.

But I have a dear friend, who holds me back during such moments by lending me what I call customized-to-my-feelings  books, which knock me on the scalp screaming ‘dare you become an escapist’!

This time, it is Jhumpa Lahiri’s ‘Unaccustomed Earth’, which has an answer for me.

Here it goes…

In his desperation at justifying abandoning his homeland to secure riches for his progeny, while nurturing attachments to the land he is not tied by blood or birth, and yet unable to strike roots in his adopted land, it’s his torn cultural beliefs, if any, that make him [and scores of others like him] take pot shots at me [and scores of others like me] who doesn’t fit into his overly-touchy self-defined ‘native’ description.

Well, I’m not writing this to mark myself on my love-for-my-parental-tongue index nor profess my patriotism as much for saying what marvelous piece of art I’m reading. It’s all about the immigrant populations’ Indian ethos, cultural shocks, mucked up personal identities, suppressed emotions, addictions… relationships. Yes HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS!

As a starter, here’s a teaser…

A Indian widower refuses to settle down with his married daughter in the US saying he doesn’t want to ‘burden’ her, when in reality he has found a new love at a ripe old age. But before he leaves he plants his wife’s favourite plant in his daughter’s garden and asks her to take care of it.  Why?

The reason is left to the reader’s ethics, if I may say so. Because she is not talking morals. It’s only emotions. You peel layers and layers of emotions through each story until you are left holding only more of it. An undefinable, unexplainable mix of feelings, which is right and wrong at the same time.

Watch this space for the review…I’ve just meandered half-way through the book yet. 

PS: I wish my 'allegator' reads this book.

How positive is negative voting?

Appeared in TFW on Oct 3

Don’t underestimate the power of a common man! A dapper Shah Rukh Khan sprawling his hands delivers, arousing the nation. And now, the Supreme Court has seconded it. Wow!

Indians will receive a revised set of MCQs this time around. Laymen who were leaning against their armrests tired of Namo crackers and Gandhi bombshells sighing over the cacophony of all the wannabes sat up excited on hearing the Supreme Court order offering them each a baton. Grabbing it hard, they are prepared to hit them, nail them or simply ignore them all. 

But unlike students who get marked right in case the answer is NOTA, will the adults get away with the tick?

The wrong candidates may not get to occupy the coveted seat they lobbied for. But what happens if the majority of the electorate decides to opt for none? 

A right tick, in this case, may prove costly to laymen – to the very lot who fought for the privilege to exercise the freedom of choice. Those who stand tested in this general elections will be them as much as the politicians.

The fear is there. One reason why we heard cautious comments from the political class on the court order.

If only Bollywood reels took over real life! The power of a common man has hitherto only flickered selectively, shone brightly randomly and disappeared constantly in regular pre-determined patterns.

The deeds of politicians have always been mightier than the collective power of the entire nation. Scandals one bigger than the previous bombed and disappeared into thin air.  Issues snowballing into crucial intensity weathered into sobriety by seasoned hands. 

Election-time agendas and all-year through debates for the betterment of the aam admi have been the only winners. Empty promises – the power of the elected class – have always been unleashed without mercy.

The common man is tired. They need a spotless government – one devoid of any corrupt person. After more than six-long decades here’s the chance for that.

But consider a scenario where none gets elected; okay, let’s be more realistic – where none gathers a majority to form a government – then? If the common man were to exercise his powers rightly,  then the scenario will be far from being imaginary – considering the current crop of wannabe leaders.

The flip side of NOTA will then be a hole in the tax-payers’ pockets. But the tamasha will continue. Just like Bollywood, our elected class will keep us entertained  for the next five years. Do we have the nerve to withstand that? Well, old habits die hard… Practice makes perfect…

Chuck the adages!

Of a soiled nightie, beef fry and a couple

One of my friend’s from Dubai rang me up while I was in India, earlier this year.  “Hey, even I’m holidaying here. Why don’t we catch up?”

So we took to the lanes of the South Indian state of Kerala, driving north. Monsoon was unleashing its fury. [Yet, I haven’t got enough off it. How I miss The Rains!] 

 

Afternoon 2pm seems like dusk...Monsoon at its best

Well, as we pulled alongside a few hours later, to tend to our grumbling tummies, we ran into one of my acquaintances.

He invited us to his home, which was nearby. I obliged and we followed him.

[I will not describe his home, which I leave to my friend’s comments below. Suffice to say the family was at its hospitable best. Hot-steaming tea, equally deliciously-splattering banana fritters, hot-off-the-grill toast and beef fry and finger-licking melt-in-your mouth dark halwa generously served by his ever-smiling wife peppered with his non-stop chatter. The couple’s two well-behaved pre-teens, did the greetings part with aplomb and vanished leaving their coffee-brown dachshund to keep a watch on us. I always had a liking to the couple. My opinion was only reinforced.]

Well, my friend and her husband also made good guests.

No sooner than the car pulled inside their gate than the couple stepped out and looking up at the roof of the building, said in unison, “Beautiful! Who’s the architect?” The host replied with pride that it was his dad and that the house was almost 30 years old. “Old is gold,” said my friend’s husband.

“What garden!” exclaimed my lady friend turning to her husband, “Look at the variety of crotons. Amazing!” The husband tapping the host’s arm, said, “Excellent, there’s a lot of work that goes into this, I can see!” All the while his eyes were panning the area. “The land adjacent is also yours?” The host nodded a ‘yes’. “And the open area I can see behind?”

Now the host stood to explain. Pointing his finger in all four directions, he said, “From there until there is completely mine. My dad had bought it long back…”

“Wow! You are a billionaire,” exclaimed my lady friend.

In the meanwhile, the host’s wife had joined us and was unsuccessfully trying to invite us in. At last after more statistics gathering and even more exclamations on their property, we walked in.

“Wow! Beautifully done! Teakwood furniture are the best, isn’t it?” The wife commented to the husband and the couple walked around the rooms uninvited. “Real spacious!” “I loved the kitchen… The dining hall is the best…you guys are lucky…” and so went their commentary on the interiors.

“You are an amazing cook!” she showered on the hostess, denying a second helping of the beef fry.

Saying our goodbyes, my friend added, “Let’s take a group picture,” and pulled the hostess by her side. Wrapping her arm around her shoulders she posed.

“So nice, meeting you’ll,” said the husband.

“Come again,” said the hostess.

“Oh! You don’t have to invite us. Next time, we are here, we will make sure we drop in. 

And I need proper meal. You cook so well…”

“…and this ambience. Your home reflects nature’s beauty…” added the husband.

**************

Finally, we proceeded on our journey.

Inside the car:  My lady friend asked her husband, “Why did you eat that beef. It was floating in oil.”

“They would have felt bad…” clarified her husband.

“Don’t forget it’s your body… What kind of people…Oh God! How can they live in such a shabby home…”

“Orthodox. Traditionalists…” added her husband.

“Tell me. What was that odour. Gosh, I couldn’t eat a morsel, seeing her nightie. It had all the masalas that she used for cooking on it…

“Not at all our types…”

“I held my breath while taking the picture beside her…”

I knew she was blowing, yet I got blown

She walked in, too busy to breathe that she instead panted, after having kept me waiting for an hour. Thankfully, it was a shopping mall, and I had an excuse to pamper my feet.

“I’m sorry. I had a crazy day. The head is gone nuts….and…and…. So, tell me, what do you do?”

“Me!!”

[We were meeting for the first time, but after she finding out about me over the phone over a period of four months and myself having postponed this first meeting at least half-a-dozen times.]

“Yeah, of course, I know what you do. It’s great knowing you. Ever since Gauri spoke about you, I’ve been wanting to catch up with you. You write so well…”

I nodded. Smiled.

“You’ve got a good sense of humour.”

“Me!!”

[I had hardly spoken until then during the face-to-face monologue. And it was almost the same over the phone. I had managed to comment or reply when she remembered to breathe]

So, now I sincerely parted my lips wider, and in way of conversation asked, “Have you read my blogs?”

“Oh, do you blog? I like bloggers. BTW, you are so pleasant and nice to speak to…”

[I did have a choice. I prefer self-chattering to mutual dialogues]

“…So what do you do?”

“Me!!”

“Yeah. Apart from your day job…”

Not wanting to give her more monologue fodder, I said, “I sleep.”

“Ah, no wonder you have such glowing skin.”

“Me!!”

[This time I held the arm rest]

“Yeah, of course. Nobody has told you this before. And I love your smile.”

“Thank you!”

“…so, tell me what do you do?”

“Me!!”

“I mean, you are an editor, yeah.”

“Uh Uh”

“I’ve written something about how our company is hosting an exclusive exhibition on rare stones next month – a first in the GCC. If you could publish it on your site…”

Nirbhaya’s closure

This appeared in TFW on Sept 15

Nirbhaya has been delivered justice as the four men are sentenced. Neither do I want to debate the ethics of capital punishment nor human rights as much as the time frame in delivering the sentence versus the mass national reaction. Especially to those ranting ‘closure’.

What is that which has closed. The case? The family’s pain? or The menace called rape? 

The case will drag the appeals route, the family can never overcome her memories and, most importantly, expecting all sick minds in India to having learnt their lesson with one case is wishful thinking. It is a landmark judgement with regards the time within which the guilty were sentenced. I beg to disagree with all those who claim this to be a landmark case. No rape is less gruesome than the other.

And that raises the ugly question of how many times the young girl was tortured by the public in the last nine months. Every time the details of brutality were described and explained she was being maimed yet another time. And so her friend, who is alive to receive the wounds afresh over and over again. If at all anyone has received a ‘closure’, it’s the people who discussed and debated and rallied for the accused to be punished. 

Closure will come when each such case is dealt with in such earnestness. When all the cases languishing in the courts and in police files are served justice, suggesting there will be no more such cases. Can we hope the latter point is no wishful thinking?

The laws need more stringency. Such fast-track measures cannot be applied to all cases that erupt in the nooks  and corners of the country. And, most importantly, morality and consciousness of each individual should rise. Pray at least these are not wishful thinking!