The service of my love

We should be ashamed. All of us Indians. We enjoy having someone to point a finger at, whether it’s to laugh at them or to place blame on their shoulders, but we don’t often look into a mirror with the same intention.
The officials responsible for the Commonwealth Games mess have become the focus of everyone’s ire and the media are doing a stupendous job of sensationalizing the problems with disgraceful reporting. It’s become so you can’t wake up in the morning without having to read about the latest disaster in Delhi splashed over the front pages of every newspaper. No chance to be proud of the opportunity to host the event; instead, we’re encouraged to cry shame and bay for the blood of the incompetents involved in setting up the facilities.

We love to hate our politicians and complain about how corrupt they are, but wait… are they really different from the rest of us? I wouldn’t blame them, because I don’t think it’s their fault at all. In this great nation, we’re all born with a defining Indian-ness. As was Kalmadi. Every time we violate a traffic rule, every time we urinate or drop litter (or worse) in a public place, every time we forge a document and every time we bribe a government official, we’re just being true to our nature.

We are so proud of ourselves that we are blind to ourselves. We talk of India being a superpower in the making, but our standards of hygiene are still not at par with the rest of the world (foolishly admitted by CWG officials). We talk of becoming global citizens, but we cannot recognize that our Indian-ness is the very factor that prevents us from attaining said citizenship. Our nature is hardly compatible with the civilized world at large, and yet we aspire to rub shoulders with them. So many of us travel abroad to earn in higher valued currency. And yet, while abroad, many are unwilling to accept or adapt to foreign habits. We turn up our noses, seeking out others like ourselves and longing for the familiarity of Mother’s cooking. Others take adaptation a little too far and simply assimilate into foreign cultures, often forgoing their own.

We make ourselves weak. We worship our celebrities like we worship our Gods. We still fawn over foreigners although we broke free of the Raj ages ago. We are insecure as a people; of our abilities, our sexuality and most other qualities that matter.
We don’t understand graciousness, subtlety and etiquette. We don’t get satire.
We. Are. Not. Professional.

We are a developing country. We have been one for a long time now. How much longer?
I don’t care if there are lavish hotels with super-smart toilet bowls that wash your ass automatically. What about the poor who still have to defaecate in the open?
I don’t care about the luxurious cars afforded by the affluent. What about the idiots still spitting out of bus windows?
I don’t care if we are nuclear capable. What about the villages that still go without electricity?

We have been trying to do a good job, but we keep getting in our own way because of that little Indian chromosome. Nevertheless, we persist.
Top international athletes are pulling out of the Games? Fuck’em. We don’t need to beg on bended knee for them to grace the Games with their presence. I say we get on with the event and hope with all our collective might that everything stays standing, at least till the curtain falls.
I am not a leader, but as sure as I am a patriot and a taxpayer, I know this much: We desperately need change. We cannot abandon our fundamental ethos, but we do need to evolve from the inside. Understanding the problem is the primary step and I am hopeful that the upcoming young leaders in the country have a better vision in this direction than the worn down politicians currently in office.

Hong Kong was handed independence in 1997. As far ahead as they are, that’s where we could have been… I’m just saying.
Unless we make big strides forward, and soon, we may forever be the underachievers of the world.


P.S. If you were offended by anything in the paragraphs above, you might just be part of the problem.

Stripped

Morning. So cold…

Bathtub? Melting ice? FUCK…!

Wait, slow down. I remember now. We emptied the ice machine last night… she wanted to do it “Eskimo style”. Crazy stuff. Man, I wish I’d passed out on the bed instead.

“Uh, you’re in my seat.” Either she hadn’t heard him or she was ignoring him. He felt silly standing there and attempting to converse with her back. Her friend had obviously heard him because she made eye contact for just a moment. Finally, the usurper turned around, “Were you saying something?”

Suddenly he wasn’t sure anymore. “Uh, I was just sitting there a few minutes ago… but it’s alright. I’ll grab another seat.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even make sure they were arranged in the right order. There wasn’t another seat at the bar, but he was flustered and needed to get away. “Oops, I didn’t know. I’m sure we can move?” she looked over at her friend. “No! That’s ok.” Too loud. He wasn’t used to these places. Awkward pause. “Umm… do you want to join us here for a drink? That is, if you don’t mind standing for a while.” One smile and he didn’t need to decide.

She took the car keys! And my folder was in there…

What was her name? Damn I gotta learn to remember these things. Emily something, I think. Gotta get back to the city somehow.

The exchange of items had gone smoothly and all he’d wanted was to get a beer before heading back to the solitary life. He normally would have never stopped at a bar that he knew was going to be this crowded, but having been compelled to, he was now glad for it. He was a relative novice, easily enticed by the alcohol and enchanted by her personality. She was attractive, attentive and dismissed her girlfriend a few minutes after he joined them.

Hi, yes I’d like to report a stolen vehicle. It’s a blue 2002 Civic. I think I’m at a B&B… I don’t remember the name, I’ll have to check. Uh no, there weren’t any valuables in there, just a file folder. I need to get my folder back! Yes, I can give you a description of the car…

“Maybe it’s just the light, but I think you’ve got an exotic sorta look. Polynesian?” “Actually, I’m one quarter Inuit,” she grinned at him, “On my mother’s side. And you’d be surprised how many people don’t know what Inuk is!” He smiled back sheepishly, as she ran her fingers through her black hair and her other palm rested on his thigh. “It’s kinda hot; do you want to get out of here?” Her eyes melted him.

Adele – Make You Feel My Love

The Morning Benders – Excuses

The Office

What did I do wrong?

Where did things take such a turn that now you suddenly can’t bear to look me in the eye?

It wasn’t very long ago that our every meeting was sweet relief. I’d make time everyday to come see you and our moments spent together seemed almost too short. But yesterday, for the first time, it was as if you couldn’t even see me.

I stood before you, head bowed in modest sincerity. And you dismissed me. No words were needed; it was as though our worlds were no longer the same. As though I had ceased to exist, the way you looked right through me in an unblinking stare.

Did I deserve this? Had I been unkind or unfaithful in any way? You weren’t the only one there y’know, but whenever I entered the room somehow my eyes always drifted only to you. I couldn’t ever not come over to you. So what happened to you? When did we stop understanding each other? I wish you’d given me a sign… something I could’ve seen and known then that things between us were about to change. I could’ve done something about it. I could’ve helped you. I could’ve helped myself.

But in an instant you’ve shown me your true nature. I don’t think we can continue what we started. You’re just not who I thought you were… instead, fickle, hateful and unrepentant are what I see now. Were you just baiting me? Lulling me into a false sense of security before turning on me? Have there been others before me? Now that I think of it, there probably were. This is a big place. Those poor suckers.

Well, if nothing else, at least we all know better now.

The worst part is that I’m still going to have to see you everyday, and then look away knowing that you wouldn’t have changed. In fact, you probably aren’t even expecting me to come back, but before the end, I have to know the reason. I can’t believe that it’s just in your nature to suddenly behave in such a way.

So why then, urinal #3, did you auto-flush on me before I was done?!

Mr. Big – To Be With You

Bon Jovi – Janie Don’t Take Your Love To Town

Winter fruit

Almost three months it’s been since I last posted anything. While I patiently await my suicide machine, please don’t disqualify me, O Elders of the Internet!

Recently, I heard the name Persephone and was immediately thrown back to my childhood. Not really being even a mediocre authority on Greek and Roman mythology, I’m not quite sure how I instantly connected the dots between Persephone and the story of Proserpina that I read as a child, but I did. It was a childhood that abounded with books and in one of them, I remember reading the story of Proserpina’s abduction by Pluto. I was pretty young at the time, but even at that age, the tragedy of it all struck me quite sharply. Now that I think of it, I think I had a book that seemed to be filled with stories filled with gloom and despair. That’s what comes of unsupervised reading! Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree was another mildly depressing story that I quite liked at that age.

On a side note, this wonderful depiction was sculpted by a 23 year old Bernini. Zoomed in, you can even see delicate tears streaming down her face. And don’t miss Cerberus down at Pluto’s feet.

Coming back to nearer times: When I had just made it into my twenties, I thought to myself that this was going to be the time of my life and I was determined to make it last as long as I could. But now that I’m on the wrong side of the decade, it’s going by all too fast. I’m not even sure I’ve had the time of my life yet… how would I recognize it? Slowly, I’ve grown to appreciate things that I would have hastily scorned but a short while ago. It’s even got to a point where I no longer run away from things that smell of lavender. The amount of time it’s taken me to get back to writing and the fact that this post barely has a point probably says something about where my mind and priorities are moving too. Enough for now.

“Too much change is not a good thing; ask the climate!”

Shakin’ Stevens – Cry Just a Little Bit

Berlin – Take My Breath Away

The Age of Man

I hate when people say how good it feels to give. I think that is utterly selfish and hypocritical behaviour. If you want to give, give for the cause, not for your own satisfaction or peace of mind.

I felt for the victims of the Haiti disaster but since I did not have the power, ability or compulsion to help them directly, like many others I thought it best to place my contribution in the hands of those who did have the compassion, capability and resolve required to render relief. I know it isn’t simple to empathize with someone caught in the aftermath of a catastrophe, to imagine the mental and physical trauma they are experiencing. But as a closet claustrophobic, I can only partially identify with the emotional distress of being trapped without hope. And this is before even trying to comprehend the heartache of loss suffered by the survivors. Grim.

While I was reading an article on the quake in an online newspaper, I came across a comment from another reader who swore not to donate a single penny. He couldn’t understand why whenever there was a crisis in some third world country, they always looked to the United States and the United Kingdom for help. Well Nathan from London, I’m sure you’re entitled to your own view, but all this comment did was it made me donate twice as much as I had planned to, just to even out the karma. I live in a country many people in ‘developed nations’ might prefer to refer to as third world, but I don’t want for much more than my country can offer. Nathan, you obviously never learned it in school but you need to be grateful every single day, that you were born into your family and not somewhere the sun didn’t shine so favourably.

I am not a proponent of religion. As for God, I believe in an entity that is omniscient and omnipresent (omnivorous too, maybe), a Creator and Destroyer; but I do not take God the Protector for granted. I believe in people. People have to look out for people and therein lies the root of all that is good. And by good I am referring to the most common understanding of what is right as opposed to what is wrong, not other definitions that may be twisted by religious observance, upbringing or social circumstance.

So fuck you, smiling pricks; be charitable, but stop telling us how warm and fuzzy it makes you feel. Giving doesn’t grant you the right to gloat.

And fuck you, Nathan from London. You are simply one of the bad ones.

Foreign types with the hookah pipes say: Is antidisestablishmentarianism = establishmentarianism? If yes, then whatever happened to brevity?

Travis – Sing

Hootie And The Blowfish – I Only Wanna Be With You

In the air

I don’t travel frequently, so when I do take a trip I always hope to meet an interesting member of the opposite sex during the journey, who can at least uphold one end of a stimulating conversation. I’m always looking for the random stranger that I won’t soon forget (in a good way, not because she swiped my wallet).

Recently on a bus to Mumbai, hitherto Bombay, I found myself seated beside a pleasant lady. We weren’t both supposed to get on the 8:00 AM bus, since the travel company in its infinite wisdom had given me a ticket for 8:30 AM. I realized this error too late, however, as with most things in this country, it’s easy to wriggle your way into almost anywhere, provided you know the words. Long story short, I boarded the bus I wanted and ended up beside the same girl who travelled with me in the shuttle to the bus station.

Much like a ’92 Ford Escort on a wintry morning in Oxfordshire, she took a while to warm to me, choosing to ignore my icebreakers. After about half an hour of persistence, I finally elicited a response when I commented on her funky shoes. Apparently, they were quite popular with the girls up North, but I really think they could have found a name more feminine than ‘Gladiators’. She though, had a very pretty name (which I shall not reveal, for no particular reason) and was visiting from Jaipur to spend time with her sister and see the ‘big city’. While she described all the things she liked about Pune, I wondered to myself if this was the same city I lived in or if, being a tourist, she had access to an ocean of serenity hidden within the city, which was only revealed to visitors.

We chatted on for a while as she shared her snacks and slowly revealed more about herself without needing much prompting. It was slightly intimidating to learn that although she was younger than me, she was already Regional Service Manager at a bank, but heck it wasn’t like I’d ever see her again, so I told her I was a Director of Sales (no I didn’t).

It was a long, slow ride and eventually we both fell asleep. The shared arm-rest between our seats wasn’t wide enough, so our arms were up against each other. I suppose it would have been good manners to either let her have the entire arm-rest or move my elbow away so that it wasn’t touching her. Or she could have done the same, out of Bharatiya Nari modesty. But she didn’t, so I didn’t. For the rest of the journey, every time the bus lurched so that our arms moved away from each other, I (or she) readjusted and they would come together again and sleep continued unabated. When she finally awoke and began to settle her hair, the missing warmth on my arm woke me too. Our conversation didn’t resume and she was soon at her stop. Her casual goodbye simply involved inviting me to come up North ‘soon’ and then she was gone.

I’m not saying she’s the stranger I won’t soon forget and I don’t want to read too much into these sorts of casual meetings, but all the same, I think they’re special because for a short time you can be completely open with someone without worrying about being judged since in all probability you’ll never meet them again. Or you could lie, and they’d never know the difference.

Soylent Green is people!!

Robbie Williams – You Know Me

Animotion – Obsession