Sunday 27 May, 2007

The Unwritten Rules

The Ten Commandments

  1. Thou shalt not use any other mode of transport other than the sardine tin.
  2. Thou shalt allow all who be smaller in stature than thou to find comfort in placing their face in thine armpit. Thou shalt do the same for those of a larger stature than thou.
  3. Thou shalt strictly not adhere to the rules affixed everywhere. Thou shalt not allow those alighting to take the upper hand. Thou shalt send them back into the recess where they belong.
  4. Though shalt stand near the door for as long as possible as the sardine tin coasts toward its next halt. Though shall make the task of boarding as difficult as possible for everyone else.Similarly thou shal start pushing to exit the tin much before it has stopped, providing a rish of adrenaline to those near the door, enough to last them the whole day.
  5. Though shall make use of the nearest shoulder as a hand rest or pillow as the situation may demand. If though be unable to pass through the portal to a free massage, though shall perch thineself upon the roof and avail of the blow drying session with your cronies.
  6. Though shall try and force thin way into the first sardine tin that comes you way, treating it as if it were to be the last one available.
  7. Though shalt never discuss the faults of the fish who run the sardine tin and its bones whilst within the tin. Once outside, though art free to say as though pleases. Though shall never speak blasphemies about these concerned people.
  8. Though shall give up thine seat to the nearest female entity and then look at her as if she’s something straight out of your wildest dreams.
  9. Though shall move with the rest of the sardines as they swim towards their destinations even if where they are going is not where you want to. Never oppose the flow.
  10. Though shall scream and tear someone’s hair out over the most trivial of issues. To vent your frustration after a hard day at work, a travelling students backpack makes for a good punching bad. As does all the stuff that the person in front of you is carrying.

Monday 14 May, 2007

Love & Mercy - Michka Assayas

Some morning, a handful of people board a commuter train, carrying bags filled with charge, all stuffed with bolts and nails. I am refusing to analyze it. Try putting yourself inside the head of a madman, and pretty soon you'll find yourself feeling like one too. Moreover, that is exactly the aim of those delirious political and religious sects: carrying the world into a collective madness at the end of which, of course, truth will prevail, a truth that only its followers detain.
In a magazine called Courier International, i have just read about the story of Zarema, a twenty-three-year-old from Chechnya. Armed with an explosive belt, she renounced, just at the last minute, to smash herself to pieces in a pub in Moscow, and turned herself in to the police. A Russian journalist got the opportunity to interview her in her cell. There she told him her appalling life story. Her mother abandons her while she is a ten-month-old baby. Then her father gets murdered on a building site in Siberia. It doesn't sound like a great start in life. It isn't. Raised by her grandparents, she is forced into marrying "according to our old customs", as she puts it, some local dealer. Pretty soon, the man gets shot by a competing gang. At that time, she is expecting his baby. For want of money, she is not able to raise her baby daughter by herself. So out of hand the husband's clan places the baby in another family. Zarema is accordingly parted from her child and sent back to her grandparents' place. They live at the far end of the country. There, she goes out of her mind with grief. So what does she do? She robs the family jewels, which she proceeds to sell to the market, so as to board a plane and to abduct her daughter. But her aunts recapture her just as she is about to do that. They humiliate her and strike her repeatedly, because she has become the disgrace of the family.So Zarema sees only one solution. To become at last a "decent person"--I'm quoting her words here--she thinks she has to sacrifice herself for Allah and Jihad, so her shame gets washed away and her debt paid off, since the rebels give away a thousand dollars to a martyr's family. At the rebels' hideout, she encounters other suicide applicants. One of them, a nineteen-year-old girl, blows herself up during an open-air rock concert in Moscow: fourteen dead. Zarema sees the bodies on television. Something clicks in her head. Above all, she feels compassion for the young girl who died in the operation, the one whom she saw everyday---her companion. "She is the one that i pitied the most", she says. So her eyes open and she gives up the madness. You can say a kind of miracle happened....Love and mercy: those words do not only make sense for the survivors. In order to fight effectively against the terrorist insanity, perhaps they're more than the infiltration of cells, the shelling of villages and the so-called war on terror. Because the nature of that terror is moral and religious as much as it is political, the answer sometimes has to be of the same nature. In one case, love and mercy simply worked...................

Sunday 13 May, 2007

The Mumbai & Metro experience.

It’s bliss-a renewed faith in mankind, a spring in my step, optimism to it’s helm (to the point of foolishness)…..some of the aftereffects of visiting my beloved city-Old Mumbai (South Mumbai!)-the amazing smell in the air. I get all nostalgic for no reason at all. My usual cluttered mind clears up & paves way for ideas to flow-oooh….It’s bliss.

Traveling first class or in a nice swanky Merc may be an option or a “dream” travel for many- but hell!-I love the local trains & my walk through the city. From CST to Churchgate to Marine Drive to Nariman point, all the way back to Fort, Colaba. Looking at nothing in particular. To get “lost in the crowd” feels good. You aren’t lonely, you are alone. Your head showing the way. The mere glance of the sea on one end & the corrugated, dirt-platted buildings on the other is an ambience perfect for …yeah…DREAMING. You dream big, you talk aloud to yourself, the neighbour who hears you merely nods at this & is in complete sync mentally. The cold borrowed archeitecture does not fill me with resent-I don’t know why-I feel “belonged”.

On the way you pick up gems- an old book here & there, the cup of chai your dad drank when he struggled while dreaming, the heavenly, refreshing, cool milkshake at Haji Ali- all the while the vastness of the sea compels you to drown in it forever. No, I don’t want to drown in the beautiful Hawaii Islands or the Bahamas. I’d like to drown in the filthy sea-water of Mumbai i.e, if I am destined to die that way.

When there is so much beauty in a place, a beauty that can’t be seen, that does not stand demanding appreciation-it’s felt, it moves, it stays & you come back to it seeking solace, to escape, to guide & to be lost to win. I’ve seen the same buildings a million times, sat at the same place at Marine Drive watching & writing, munching those stupid groundnuts-(I land up buying them all the time)-but everytime it’s different. The aura refuses to fade. It’s an aura my dad had & probably created- I feel the same. It’s never going to fade. I’ll be awestruck like a 3yr old-everytime. Can keep my mouth shut effortlessly & await the sinking in, the drowning, the dawning. It’s an aura that will remain. I don’t know if only I feel it & others just walk by in the crowd. It’s not the people I like, it’s the place. I think I’d walk through it alone and still feel the same.

No single movie or a book has done justice to this city, probably Shantaram a little bit. “Life in a ….Metro” being the BIG RECENT DISASTER. I HATED it & for once got beaten up for it. The stupid idea of watching “Life in a…Metro” at Metro Adlabs, first day, first show…stupid me. Should have suspected the idiotic “DNA-SPEAK UP” chap who brilliantly recorded every vehement abuse to have escaped my lips. I could have murdered Anurag Basu for his brilliant perception of hapless souls having to loss virginity & have super-duper affairs- all analogous to Life In a Metro-WHAT!!!! Call the movie “Meri Jindagi” or something. I said all this & it all got printed. I feel a little embarrassed to bear the brunt of thrashing a 3-star ratted movie by all the film critics of all the popular newspapers, The Times Of India, DNA, Mumbai Mirror….all gave wonderful, uniform ratings but I’m still fuming.

But all in all, sitting at “Gaylords” (Churchgate) devouring the Swiss Chocolate and watching people walk by I read this…

“That there is a minimum of free choice; but that people cannot live unless they imagine that they have free will”

That sums it all up. I smiled, I opened the book, I just began to read “War and Peace”-it’s bliss.

Thursday 10 May, 2007

Kaddlicks

Kaddlicks

Like that only we are, men. What men, I heard today that they are talking about us in the papers men. What is this men? What they have about us? We be like this only. In those pitchers you know men, they be showing us as the local dons men. We get the hooch for everyone men. How it is like that men? Who told them about us and hooch men? That is for us only. We don’t drink and kill people. We drink and sing men. We sing like happy people. At least we drink at home and all the people are knowing about us drinking men. They, those pitcher people men, they drink and be eating the dookhar and the maas and then when they intercept with us they tell us that eating the flesh is bad for the health. That is why we live longer than them men.

Where is the time to see all these pitchers men? We don’t have time to see the hens in the shack men. What men? My TV is broke and that cablewalla bugger is not coming to see it men. Stupid bugger. When the TV comes again I’ll see all these pitchers and then I’ll tell the other gaon chaps. I’ll tell them that these pitcher buggers, how they are making fun of us. But who cares men? Live and let live men. Those people who live in our houses men, they took away all our houses men. That is why we live in Boorovli now men, in IC colony men. There only men, not far men. Knoot in Bhassein men, not that far. You take the fast train and you reach IC at 7. 7 10 latest. It’s a nice life. But we had to sell the fadders house in Bandra and come here men. But its nice here men. There are somany people like us men. They also like to live big men. Real big. One bugger goes on those rigs where there is no booze and he brings back the money. The others party all day long and live nice. The chicken shop here sells nice chickens. They, come you know alive and some come dead. But we buy the alive ones and keep the died ones for the others. You know those buggers who come in the night, to eat chicken; they take it and eat it. Like us. They also like chicken and meat. But when the sun comes up they don’t be liking it. Funnee people.

In the village men, you know where there are meny of us no, there is always a church. We go for mass there and we stand outside , on the graves and talk there. But when the fadder is talking, we listen. He says that we are outstanding katlicks. Very outstanding. After the mass also we stand there and we talk about odder people in the village. And they talk about us. Sometimes we go to each others house to talk but that is not fun. No fun like church talking. It is also not nice to intercept with people when they are having a fight with their fathers. Mudders and wifes. If you intercept then, then they intercept with you when you don’t like it.

If you see someone you know at the station, you make hand to them. Even if it is fadder from church, you make hand to him, but if he doesn’t make hand back, then you make hand again. He will make hand eventually. One day no, I met my friend from the convent, I made hand to him and he made hand to me and we started talking about the good old days. When the fields were green and the rivers had water. Those were the nice days no? What had happened today men? All these people ? from where they come and to where they go nobody nows. He told me no. that his sister men want to be taking a job in a school as a teacher. I told him to tell her to be a receptionist. Sit, tell some people good morning and afternoon and do something. That is a good life and come back fast.

But the chrsitmas mass if the fun part. You go for the mass and come back and feast on the turkey. Sometimes we eat the pig. You know we catch the one pig and make it nice and fat so that we can eat it. Then you drink and sing and sleep.

That is life. Sleep. Eat. And enjoy. Don’t be taking any tension. Be happy and don’t worry. Don’t worry about anything. Just do it.

DISCLAIMER

The ideas and words used in this piece are not meant to harm anyone from MY community especially. It’s all in jest and should not be taken as a dig at us (me included). Laugh if you want to. That’s what this is meant to be. A joke. It’s all in jest. Inspired by a similar piece that I read in today’s HT. And BTW, I’m EI. If you know what that means.

Tuesday 8 May, 2007

Being stereotypical

Being stereotypical

Is it right to follow the herd always? Why should the herd always be right? Is it really that difficult to think for yourself? Should you keep your thoughts that go against what everyone else thinks, to yourself?

Where is the “herd”? What constitutes it? Who decides the direction that the herd will take?

Maybe the answer to these questions lies in the current state of world society. Why do we rely on the government to take decisions on our behalf? Why do we elect people to take decisions on our behalf? Is it because we’re incompetent? Granted that the gifts needed for being a leader of the masses is bestowed upon a select few, but does that mean that the rest of us mere mortals resign to the fact that we can’t do anything?

Why does rot creep into society? Is it because the masses that endow a select few with power are too scared to revolt against what they deem is wrong? This is not the Stone Age anymore where society consisted of men and their immediate surroundings but has the human social network evolved into something so complex that some must dedicate their entire lives to deciphering its intricate, interconnected webs? Can’t the common man decide which nationalities of people he’d like to get along with and which he’d be neutral to and to which select few he’d be hostile to? Ok ok, I’m sounding a little crazy here, wanting to take the world back to the age of tribal clashes and the like but just give it a thought, would the world be better if each had his own?

How can one guarantee that the opinions of George bush, for instance, are representative of the views of America at large? How can this be true when there are large factions, (it’s not right to call them factions, actually) of people who beg to differ?

Coming back to a more “back home” example of people following the herd, just look at the masses of engineering hopefuls who long with all their heart to get in to that coveted branch called “EXTC”, What a bunch of losers they are , who can’t even expand that to its full form. Now which part of the sky did this concept of “scope” fall out of? Who makes scope? I’d say you make your own scope. What’s the use of getting into that branch only to find out too late that you don’t like it and lose interest and ultimately fail? Who told them that that branch in particular was interesting? How can someone else decide for you where your interests ultimately lie? Isn’t that stupid? I wonder where the person who started this information trail is today. How can you place so much trust in the words of others, even your friends? They may mean well, but you have to take everything with a pinch of salt?

Among another disturbing trend that I’ve resisted from becoming a part of is the coaching class culture. Why must learning be done in air conditioned class room, outside school or college? Let’s not forget for a minute here that Einstein probably learnt to think the way he did, not in a coaching class with a bunch of zombies, but in his school. It’s here that minds and thought patterns are shaped. A coaching class can at the most, get you marks on a piece of paper and little else. Whose dream was it to be turned into a book digesting zombie? (Insert that cranberries song-Zombie here). Can a zombie think for himself (or itself)? Doesn’t the same apply for any one of those stupid products of the common coaching classes? You claim that you have more marks than me, but really smarty pants, how smart are you? Can you stretch your knowledge of the fundamentals to something new? Can you answer my question if the answer is not in your book? Can you defend yourself in an argument? Do the folks at your classes teach you the ways of life? Do they teach you that the world extends far beyond the last page of your textbook?

Who profits at the end of this futile quest for marks? Your pockets are lighter and the people you pay at that fancy coaching class have pockets so heavy they can’t even support all that cash. You’re none the wiser, just poorer. Why must school be your passport to the board exam? Is that what the thoughts of some have reduced it to?

One attends a coaching class, tells his mates and soon a mass exodus follows with no apparent head to the herd, no top dog, no bull in command. Where does this lead? Nowhere.

Stand up. Be counted, be yourself. Unbelong. Be you.

Peace.

PS- I have a little more time on hand now as the saga of the oral exams has ended,( finally, long overdue) and there’s more carnage to come but I seek the armour that will protect my soft flesh from the piercing arrows of the exams.

Tuesday 1 May, 2007

Nihilism-morals & values.

“To believe that no values or morals exist in this universe”-Nihilism. To adulate nihilism would be to try & surrogate “Religion”. It would lead to a falsified, glorified belief- needless to say-would be ephemeral & loathed soon-like all religions today. Relativity in ideas has forced everyone to view ideas with trepidation. Forced to think of all point of views-accommodating all of which would lead to mediocrity-again very rampant today. Extremity is Utopia, imagination. Mediocrity is practised and sullen. Morals and values-they too are relative and following all forms would lead to mediocrity.

What are morals and values?- A sense of responsibility of goodness imbibed by society in a way that befits and benefits it invariably SAID to benefit oneself. Would it lead to happiness as touted by the most popular-absolutely NOT. They thwart happiness and incarcerate one in the labyrinth of false beliefs that one has created for himself. So, should one forsake all MORALS & VALUES & turn NIHILIST?

Well, I agree GREED & JOY are the 2 basic instincts man was made with & he can’t part with either. The primitive man had everything in abundance- food, water, time, solitude-everything. But he went for seeking for more of his kind. Was it the joy of procreation or the greed to dominate the other living beings by sheer number or was it plain curiosity or the need for companionship? Either way it was GREED, the greed for joy or something else. Man was made to be happy & greedy- his basic nature. To try being selfless, all giving & ever charming, peaceful-would be inhuman-a cheap emulation of the Almighty. Goodness to society is always different from goodness to self. If both are to be followed COMPLETELY-you need to be 2 different people else you let circumstances drive your choice & it leads to mediocrity in beliefs.

If the “religious sense of morale” were to be followed- why didn’t the primitive man who had everything just serve every other living creature around him, think of good & God & die?? Basic natures are true morals. To seek joy & pleasure for oneself is nor wrong. Being narcissist & an egotist might be. Like wise being selfless & hoping for goodness foe everyone by sacrificing oneself is not praise-worthy. It is against man’s soul & it will kill his soul & he would die emulating “the God” he/she believes in.

Morals and values are framed & made to help man-if it is imprisoning him, it is high time to turn Nihilist & refrain from the falsified morals. Novelty must set in & lead way to a NEW WORLD of the basics- it is all after all CYCLICAL!!