Tuesday, June 10, 2008

SANCTITY




Where I come from, nothing was stressed on more than the importance of having good values. I have my parents to thank for complying with the Indian Government’s plan of ensuring higher literacy rates among children, by inculcating in me a high level of respect for the proper usage of language. However, in spite of our endless efforts, it has been brought to attention that the current ‘Bluetooth generation’ is working to bring us several steps back.

I was in Dubai a few days back and everywhere I went, the only thing I could hear people talk about was the unstoppable escalation of the price of oil and how it would result in an inevitable World War 3, and also what to do in order to protect our children. Oh, there was the occasional odd case of praise being showered on Shane Warne and how brilliantly he captained a bunch of aliens. I was shocked at their comments, not about Shane Warne, but at the concern shown on protecting our children. I have a question for any parent reading this? Have you seen your child lately?

Still puzzled? You should be. The question should be, ‘Are our children worthy enough of protection?’ You are ignorant of the agony felt by someone who enters into a conversation with your child online. This applies to the child only if he/she is part of the 87% of the world’s internet savvy teenage population that has corrupted the English language with their net bred lingo. This example should put us on the same page.

“f9 mn chk dat nd lemme knw l8r k”

This is something typed on Messenger by what I would call a prominent member of the Social Networking conspiracy. This mix of diverse letters and symbols stands for: “Fine man. Check that and let me know later, ok?” The one single perpetrator in this jargon arguably is ‘Laugh Out Loud’ or popularly ...‘lol’. I feel myself seething with rage when I hear people use this phrase instead of the once infectious ‘Ha Ha Ha’. There are some who have made this phrase an integral part of their spoken vocabulary too.

Before anyone can start defending themselves by saying that they use this kind of slang only because it saves time and helps them speed the entire communication process, I would like to clarify that these are the very same people who spend 4 hours on the computer daily, indulged in unproductive activities like site surfing, chatting, video watching, or social networking. What’s worst is that this writing form doesn’t limit its effects to the pc, it starts to adversely affect their actual writing as well. I’ve seen this happen personally, in my own class. There are numerous friends of mine who have deteriorated from being sons of proud parents who were thrilled to have children score high marks in creative writing; to being proud owners of the label ‘dumba**’.


Remember the good old days when we used to write letters to one another? Each letter was not just a document of information...it was a carrier of feelings, of memories, and most importantly, of love. One used to sit down and carefully list all that they had to say, taking pains to see that not even a single minute detail was missed. A complete update on the surrounding environment and its recent happenings was given, with the letter itself spanning a number of pages. Finally, there was the excitement of receiving a reply from someone that you cared about. Imagine the kind of joy you would have given them with your letter! It pains me to see that this kind of inter personal relationship doesn’t exist among us anymore. The reason I think of social networking and chatting as a bane is because of what it has done to our language, and how it has completely made writing a physical letter obsolete and its consideration almost impossible. The finest technology has been made a reality at such a heavy cost. With a nimiety of forms of communication today, who wants to make an effort with a pen?

There was a movie released in 2006 called Idiocracy, starring Luke Wilson. The film was about society 500 years from now, and how the Intelligence Quotient of the human race had reached a negligible level. Others who saw this film found the concept hilarious but I was wondering whether to laugh at the idiocy of the characters onscreen, or cry at the realisation that this is actually what will happen to us if we continue to live the same aimless life that we do. I see our future everywhere- in the degenerates I have in my class, in the mass of Neanderthals I am pressed up against in the trains, and in almost every single person I make contact with. It is my request to everyone to linguistically refine themselves and contribute significantly to making this world a better place to live in.

I would advise people not to try and convince me that there is still hope left for the ‘in crowd’. I’ll probably just say ‘Lol’.

Saturday, June 7, 2008

Prior Engagement

Every person familiar with writing will let you know, on being asked, what the desire to write feels like. Not having that desire within you need not necessarily mean that the work you produce will be faulty, it just implies that an adequate amount of satisfaction will not be generated. Today, after several months, that desire finally re-ignited itself within me. My inspiration came in the form of my family friends' daughter Radhika(name changed to maintain anonymity), and the celebration of her setting foot on the path to marriage.

It was her engagement ceremony and contrary to my thoughts prior to the function, the evening wasn't every bit of a waste as I had anticipated. I entered the ball room of a celebrated hotel in Ahmedabad to find my old friend Ankush(obviously not the same name, how many sadistic parents still give their child a name that ends in kush? Being named that would be an un'kush'ionable blow for the kid.) I mean it literally, he is an old friend, he's 27. He seemed visibly excited at watching unknown guests flock to greet his sister on what one can figure to be her last day as a singleton. Ankush doesn't believe much in the system of holy matrimony, he believes that it just serves as an encouragement for people to produce vermin, much like the
ones that had just entered the hotel. A woman with an unprovoked flashy green sari, entered the room accompanying the entire set of jewellery that her grandmother had accumulated for her over the last 63 years, with which she had adorned herself. I felt so deeply for the poor grandmother who must have definitely been turning over in her grave on learning that her irresponsible g-daughter had wasted her ornaments for such a low profile engagement. More on Ankush and his beliefs in another post.

As I walked towards the happy twosome to lie about how happy I was for them, I noticed in possession of the potential groom, an object that is dreaded by many a conscious wife, one that is generally acquired during the mid-life crisis........a paunch. I quickly darted out of the hall unnoticed and began pacing up and down the first floor corridor, tugging at strands of my hair, praying to find an answer to the horror that I just witnessed. The groom.....had a protruding belly.......before marriage. I felt the floor slipping away from below me as I struggled to get the image of this lethal dose of reality out of my mind. I was always living under the fallacy that a man was supposed to be fit at the time of marriage, and after years of living a life of comfort along with his woman was he possibly permitted to entertain any thoughts of exhibiting his version of male pregnancy. And Radhika was...smiling. This was all so wrong. Was she pitted against such unfavourable circumstances that she had to bow down and accept her fate, and furthermore even be forced to grin about it? Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying fat men shouldn't be allowed to get married. My healthy brothers have every right to indulge in marriage, but only along with a woman who has the same amount of obesity to offer. Unable to make sense of the ongoing merriment, I took a seat at the back of the hall.

When enough of the illogical proceedings were over for the maĆ­tre d' to call out,"Dinner Is Served", I walked up to the buffet and loaded my plate with a sufficient quantity of a mixed vegetable curry & dal makhani, along with two naans, and then went back. What happened next made my heart immediately reach out to the millions of animals who find themselves in front of iron bar grills, innocent victims of human bred voyeurism, and in whose lives there exists no entity as privacy. I was about to take a bite, when I found the hair at the back of neck stand erect. I knew at once that there was a camera nearby. Sure enough, I looked up to find myself to be the subject of focus of a Canon video camera. The cameraman seemed to believe that my dining would be great material worth filming. It was only after five long seconds of glaring at him that he responded by tilting the camera lens a few degrees to his left. You know, one keeps wondering as to what drives villains in movies to such extreme limits, where they ensure that the object of their irritation is both, out of the country/world and/or unable to provide for himself or his family. This villainous behaviour justified itself for me at once. I wish at that moment, that I were an Arab Sheikh or an ordinary citizen of the U.S., so that I could file a lawsuit against the damn cameraman for invasion of privacy, an issue not taken lightly by the U.S. judicial machinery. It's not like I model my attitude towards cameras on the basis of Prince Harry, whose major expense is reimbursing the scores of paparazzi, whose cameras have been smashed by him on numerous occasions. Pictures capture moments and make memories. I too, like having pictures taken....just not while eating.

"Look within yourself and you will see that I speak the truth"

Monday, December 3, 2007

Lost Love

Dedicated to Prabal Panjabi

My mind is empty, if empty is what you call a head full of memories I’ve tried incessantly to erase,
I expected you to be like the rest, you ended up lasting longer than any other phase.

Your presence was my sanctuary; I worshipped your every ideal,
That I could have discovered you in this lifetime, the entire realisation seemed so unreal.

With you being around me, entities like time ceased to exist,
Your absence was marked by the blade flowing freely on my blood stained wrist.

Days passed by, drenched in obscurity, I recall being conscious only when you were around,
I was intoxicated with every dose of this addiction called ‘love’ that I had found.

I spend each moment in numbness...I’m completely devoid of any feeling,
No was a word too brutal for me, I haven’t yet begun healing.

I wanted to leave this place, just the way you left me, but how can one end life without oneself being among the living,
I wish you’d come and revive me, I’d take you back this instant, I’m still as forgiving.

You’ve always brought out the best in me, and now you attract the worst,
You became the origin of my life’s purpose, and then you stopped me from quenching my thirst.

If desertion was your only plan, those three weight filled words why did you say?
What was the need to show me how to be happy, and then instantly take it all away?

What you gave me was indescribable, and never can I love another again,
When all I ordered from you was love, why did you have to deliver only pain?

I’m not human enough anymore, the part of me that mattered the most has been forsaken,
If this is what love feels like, then I pray anyone considering it is not mistaken.

Sunday, December 2, 2007

The Ex

I know I shouldn’t be writing this, I sense it doing me no good,
I can’t help but fall into the category of men who don’t follow the path they should.

I’ve been harbouring a feeling within, a feeling of insatiable distress,
The choices I’ve made and what they’ve brought me, my life i.e. my mess.

Tried I have endlessly to erase her memories, with my attempts resulting in vain,
Such is the curse of a powerful memory, unimaginable is the pain.

I was reminded a few days ago, when i saw a butterfly’s tattoo on a feminine back,
I relived the perfect month i was blessed with, and now she’s the only perfection i lack.

She had the skin of a silkworm’s final product, and dusky brown was her shade,
She had hair like Bathsheba herself and questions requiring declaration of love I would evade.

We commenced our journey on the road to alliance, and inevitably my gender had me betrayed,
She accepted immediately, and i was blown away by the purity she both breathed and portrayed.

Distance was not known to us, and undesirable quarrel did not feature in our conversation,
I was indebted to the Alpha, for bestowing upon me this astonishing life- altering relation.

I realised I had lived in a vacuum all my life, for the meaning of satisfaction she helped me discover,
Had it been devoid of any pleasures of body contact, I would still not hesitate to be her unconditional lover.

Alas, as this agonizing journey has taught us, the best things in life are in fact, never meant to be,
It was required of me to make the sacrifice, as my brother confided his love for her in me.

The purpose of separation was not fulfilled, and two nucleo individuals eventually departed,
The question that pierces through my melancholy depression is,”Would we have finished what we had started?”