Gay talks

The country or at least the urban, newspaper-reading, facebook-using section of it has been consumed with discussions on homosexuality since the past few days.

The very fact that national newspapers are carrying headlines on it means that the term and the action it speaks about has found its way into living rooms all over this country. And that I believe is the 'one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind' kind of thing taking place right under our noses. Who knew we could speak out openly about sex of any kind, forget gay sex.

On the other hand, the BJP, in a bid to retain the support of their traditional, staunch religious supporter base, and most probably the RSS, have proclaimed gay sex to be 'unnatural' and something they can't support.

I have a few things to say on the matter -

- The BJP should ensure all of its talking is done by its spokespeople and not by random juvenile and absurd members like Baba Ramdev and Subramanian Swamy. The fact that these people are occupying key positions in the BJP and are allowed to speak unfettered does not bode well for the iQ of the party as a whole or their competence (at managing their public image and their people). These glaring flaws would be more than enough reason for us folks to not vote for them, howmuchever Modi shouts from the roof-tops and tries to woo us with his silver-tongued talks on progress.

- Coming to the stand the party has taken: it is antiquated, un-researched and logic-defying. To make one of the many possible arguments against homosexual sex being unnatural - one fact is that it is hugely prevalent in the animal kingdom, around 1500 species have been known to depict homosexual behavior; in fact this was one of the reasons behind the landmark decision taken by the United States Supreme Court in 2003, which made same sex activity legal across all states in the US. Secondly, people are born with this orientation, feel it from within, as natural as being born with one hand more dexterous than the other, as Kanishka Sinha explains here. So how can it be unnatural? Thirdly, even if the first and the second were untrue, and people decided to have homosexual sex to add variety to their sex lives, out of curiosity, or any other reason, with other consenting adults, in the privacy of their homes, then who is the State to tell them that they can't?

- Allowing for the fact that the BJP stance is a poll strategy and they don't want to alienate their voter base (Subramanian Swamy keeps repeating that 84% of the people of this nation are against homosexuality - a statistic I don't see any basis for), I think they are misreading the situation. Not all of the traditional, middle class, slightly older demographic is dogmatically against homosexuality. They are being exposed today in an unprecedented manner to media - fiction and celebrities - and actual people who represent this reality, and are warming up to the notion of it. While they still may have great difficultly in accepting it in their own children, they certainly don't see it as criminal behavior or a disease. Admittedly there is still huge progress to be made, but things aren't so bad that a party which supports the fundamental rights of a different-but-harmless minority will automatically find itself out of favor with this demographic. In fact to the contrary, a party which insists on mouthing silly and neanderthal speech like the kind the BJP has been, stands to lose favor among the educated and rational section of the population. Much as I dislike the Congress, it is admirable that they have come out unequivocally against the article.

- The Supreme court may be making a statement and compelling our parties to take sides, reveal their strategies, show how committed they are to minority issues, etc, which is all good. But once it becomes apparent that no legislation change on this issue will be possible, given how divided the parties are, they should step in and take a judicial recourse. In this country, with these sort of gutless/coalition politics being played and practiced, a change such as this has to come from an extra-legislative body.

The times they are a-changing. And a party which has made progress its poll proposition but does not walk the talk, will learn that lesson a very hard way. A party which can't promise freedom to every one of its citizens can certainly never deliver progress.

Saturday morning..

I wonder sometimes..

..if there are others too who are constantly introspecting and making an effort to improve themselves - to be truer, to know more, be more kind - in that order. It is exhausting for self and people around - all the analyzing, over-thinking, examining self motives and faults - which goes through its own life cycle of a longish denial, self-anger/depression, acceptance, occasional change. Does all this bettering result in a truly better person or one who is a distilled puritan obsessive version of the multi-dimensional and easy person that once was?

..if there are others who feel so conflicted, about everything - last sentence from above, popularity vs individualism and that difficult to construct bridge between the two, art-for-art vs art-for-respect, bluntness vs kindness, left-brainism vs right-brainism and the merits of both, wantingness to be useful to others, but also the 'fire-in-the-belly'ness to 'make it-earn it-spend it', awkwardness vs suavity (this last one is my current muse, having been socially awkward since birth, currently toying with the idea of making an effort to learn suavity, involves saying things which give off faint odors of fakism and worldly-wisdom - phenomena hated-at-sight). Conflict, conflict, Yo people, are you there? Contact me so I can create a facebook group, but know that for all my reclusivity, I can still be the life-of-the-party when the stars align, so don't hate me for that.

..if there are others who write for clarity, write for expression, write to know what they are thinking and are surprised by their own words at times. What does this say about them?

..if there are very many (I know there are some) who would tear up at the slightest hint of emotion and pulling-at-the-heart-strings melodrama seen in cinema, read in books, but would purposefully glance away from a young beggar girl at a traffic signal, so that she goes away quickly. What's the deal with that? A survival trick, mandatory hardening of the heart against things you can't do anything about, not at this time and place, not in this way, and as a result of all this prevarication, perhaps not ever at all?

..if there are others too who couldn't perhaps string together two sentences of all of this above while face to face, without sounding weird, self-obsessed (perhaps that one's true), patronizing, arrogant but don't mind writing it for all the world to see. Those who believe instinctively that the spoken word takes away, colored by - accent, diction, reaction to other's reactions and indifference, stammering, stuttering, searching for the right words, pitch and tone of voice, social conditioning to not give away too much of oneself, not to sound uncool - all these and more, diluting the heartfeltness.

It's arrogant to assume there aren't others, there must be and there are. And for all my desire to be unique, I wish there were more.

Not fooled by randomness

I am trying on for size the notion of having an unverifiable and absolute belief - belief in the non-random nature of life.

It may seem like the world is a set of arbitrary occurrences, each life like a pebble being tossed around in the powerful current of a downward-rushing stream at full speed. Does anyone chart out the path of the pebble, know which tuft of underwater vegetation it will get entangled in, which bank it will rest upon momentarily, which group-origin-destination-combination of minerals it will choose to bound along with?

No, I cannot believe it is all random. I cannot believe that I could have been in any other place in the world, with anything more or anything less of the open-ness, broken-ness, vulnerability, mystique, sanguinity and sadness than I did; we - he and I - being at that moment perfect blends of chemical and psychological elements compelling us to become acquaintances, friends, and more.

A belief in a destiny which is a tough disciplinarian, giving you a good scrubbing and sometimes a terrific drubbing, dressing you up and then like an over-ambitious mum, shoving you into the spotlight for what you recognize in hindsight as the greatest life-changing moments of your existence.

Not random, not by a long mile.  

An arm-chair revolutionary

Reading 'bout ideas passionate & big
Folks giving up life and love, for honor
Don't you also want to have such a cause
Of a fervent & bone-shaking genre?

Oh, to stand for something
To look in the eye and stare 'em down
Going down as one of a kind
In local history and gossip 'round town

But when life offers a consolation prize
In giving ocassion to do a thing small-but-right
You find yourself taking the street smart route
Wanting to be smart and wanting to be bright

And most answers don't have questions
Asking what is right, what is wrong
Us so absorbed in our own microcosms
with different rules, all singing the capitalist's song

Here we go, our moral boundaries
Sketched by our institutions fine
No earth shattering cause to stare with stormy eyes
No dilemmas of the soul, no epiphanies divine

More questions..

Not sure how to combine

Good taste in books & friends

(Which means being judgmental)

And dear ol' human love sublime

How to be pure

of evil, design, manipulation

Yet forgive/endure others who are/have

Just not sure, very unsure

How to aspire for nobility

of spirit & action

While also 'loving my incorrigible neighbor'

Am confused, beyond my ability

It's a choice, I know I know

Always have problems with those

More Rand-ish than Teresa

Still am conflicted, this conflict, my biggest woe

Intellectual khichdi

I came across an astounding theory recently.

Doing some research (for no apparent reason) into India's history of invasion, I was told that the famed Aryan race might never have existed and most probably wasn't an invading tribe from Central Asia/Europe.

Now we have all been through those early years of history at school, before the Mughals started their dominance, when we would make models of the Indus Valley civilization and feel pride at our ancestors for having the intelligence and wisdom to have designed perfectly working drainage, multi-storied brick buildings and a system of written language. In stark contrast, our drainage system now throws in its towel at the first few showers, like a fat-girl-at-the-sight-of-chocolate (self-slap), and some of our multi-storied buildings are probably from the time of the enterprising Harappans. In terms of language, things are coming a full circle, with more and more youngsters today choosing to convey their thoughts (?) and outbursts through pictures & symbols, what with all the hard work required to read & write full sentences that make sense.

Anyway, our history books told us that the Indus Valley civilization came to an end in around 1500 BC with the invasive arrival of the European/Iranian tribe, the Aryans. These guys were supposed to have come straight from Persia, a martial race as they were supposed to have tamed the horse and mastered how to make weapons of iron, coming to the sub-continent, assimilating and ruling most of it for over 700 years.

We learnt that the Aryans were tall, fair and martial. As opposed to the Dravidians who were apparently the original inhabitants of India. The Aryans spoke Sanskrit, early descendants of them went on to write the Vedas, and descendants even further down are what we call the North Indians today.

But now I learn that there is a lot of debate on this theory. There is a link between Indians & Europeans, which was established by the German scholar, Max Mueller, one of the most noted authorities on Vedic literature and Sanskrit. But this could mean one of two things: either ancient Indians traveled to Central Asia & Europe and resulted in the Indo-European race we have today, or the other way round. Historians such as Max Mueller seem to believe in the second theory. In the 20th century, an archaeologist, Sir Mortimer Wheeler took it even further, when he discovered some human fossils in the ruins of the Indus Valley and propagated the theory that the coming of the Aryan race led to the downfall of that ancient civilization.

All of this above is under question. In fact certain scholars debate whether the Aryan race/tribe even existed. The belief is that they definitely didn't in such terms, even if theoretically there could have been an early race of pure Indians/Persians/Europeans who then mixed and matched to become what forms our ancestry today. There is recent research by the CCMB (Center for Cellular & Molecular Biology) which suggests that it is in fact the Indian gene that traveled to various parts of Central Asia & Europe, resulting in the Indo-European descent.

Surprisingly I came to know that the Nazis believed in the same notion of the Aryan race originating in India or Persia, and then moving on to Europe. The other bits we all know - their belief in the superiority of this race in character and wisdom to all other allegedly mixed races (especially the Jewish who were believed to have elements of Eastern/Oriental ancestry) and their undertaking to establish its supremacy by engaging in ethnic cleansing.

If any of you have managed to reach this point, you may be wondering about my interest in the subject and the larger point behind writing this rambling piece. Well, difficult for me to put down exactly why all of this fascinates me, but some of the more easily decipherable thoughts swirling around in my mind are:

- Genealogy has always interested me. I was the kid who stood up in class in 5th standard and asked whether I was an Aryan or a Dravidian (only to be derided by the teacher for asking what she perceived to be a racist question). There is a reason behind why I am what I am today, and at least a part of it is due to some gene which has traveled long and far. On the other hand, consider it an extreme version of self-centered-ness.
- I have come to believe that our school text books introduce history to us in a warped biased fashion, based on the politics of the time. I am sick of the notion that children are to be sheltered from uncertainty and debate, even if the alternate is to present to them a version of events, which may not be true at all. How rich would our learning have been had we been told of this debate, opposing theories and then asked to form our own views? History during school largely represented memorizing dates and other irrelevant information, a disastrous strategy. A strategy which has resulted in a nation of clueless engineers and corporate slaves.

On a tangential note, I have come to realize how racist and morally debilitating our ancient literature is. Why are the Gods, and noble kings always tall, fair, elegant-bodied, whereas the Asuras, and evil incarnates dark & stout?

Well, kudos to those who read through, tell me if you found it interesting? And please remember, I am a student, a beginner, no scholar and if you have more or opposing information, feel free to comment.

the inner-you

as the conscious-self fades away
and mr hyde starts holding sway
the mind travels into its own back streets
where memory meets desire, in discreet

secret furtive delicious little visions
play across the mind with hazy precision
sometimes fear pays a call
comes unannounced, imagine the gall

y're drowning into your own nebulous self
too unaware to ask for any help
it has a mind of its own you know, the inner-you
and maybe a plan, a destination too

it seems to have gone away by day
back to your rosy life, y're happy & gay
but like a sunless shadow it follows, mostly hidden
but reminding you of buried intents - some not-so-good, some forbidden

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

Dreams are wonderful things. The conscious-self relinquishes control, fades away and the sub-conscious, like the graveyard shift watchman, takes over. It is your driver into the bylanes of your own internal landscape comprising your memories, desires and those places from where they leap off together into your imagination. 

So many stories

It was a love affair
with tragedy
a confused longing
for unrequitedness

A sadness for sadness
or the lack thereof
un-shed tears bottled up
with no place to go

A wish to be misunderstood
..a desire for darkness
a self-fulfilling loop
if ever there was one

So it was, no more
the sadness still visits
but cautiously so
..as to not wake anyone up

And all because..
  I want the lines across my face
  to tell stories, so many stories
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to..

Rain Rain

Waiting for the rains to come
To wash the world clean
Then make it dirtier
With puddles in the streets

Waiting for the rains to come
To watch from inside
With a good book, some chai
And if lucky, a break from work

Waiting for the rains to come
This year especially
As I have made up my mind
To do something insane

Waiting for the rains to come..
..To come drench me from head to toe..
..Me without a care in the world
Or at least I could pretend for a while

Death

He prepared for a few seconds before making a gargantuan effort to get up from his seat. While his mind worked with the same precision and his eyes still had the omniscient gaze, his lower body strength left much to be desired.

He walked haltingly to the window and looked down upon the world.

At first glance, the sight took away his breath. The world below was buzzing with life, shimmering like a diamond with a billion different facets. He was relieved. But as he continued to look and began to make sense of the chaos, realization dawned, and he felt his heart beginning a downward journey to the soles of his feet. In other words, it sunk in that the decisions taken eons ago had not played out like he had intended them to..

******

..It was the beginning. When he was youthful and virile, could move as fast as mercury, and take decisions with the speed and rashness of a young God. Which he was.

He was immensely proud of his handiwork and the strategic bent of mind which had led to this undulating green ecosystem appearing out of nowhere.

He had thought of everything. The fundamental truth which his world would be based on was that all living beings were part of him and were ultimately to become one with him. But it would not do to make it easy for them to attain this salvation. It would have to be earned, in steps; through different births, in different avatars; one better than the previous or worse, depending on their deeds or misdeeds.

Death was inevitable. The food chain made pure economic sense.

He was a God who believed in balance and self-sustenance. Every day should have a night, and every flower a thorn or two. The river would lend itself back to the sky, and the sky in turn would squeeze those scuttling clouds like a sponge when the time was right.

He thought long and hard about man. By far his favorite, he had given man just enough to rule, but not enough to be truly happy. Maybe it was his ego, most likely his incompetence that man was the most imperfect of all his beings. Flawed and frightened, this man would be the only one to come close to solving the cosmic riddle, and yet never entirely there.

Man was his masterpiece. He made him over and over again, never satisfied. He wanted him to be strong, and beautiful; simple yet complex, capable of achieving happiness from the smallest of things yet yearning for more; generous yet selfish; humble yet grandiloquent.

He realized he would have to make two of them. Two parts of a whole he was attempting to create. On their own, each would be incomplete, too much of one thing or the other. Together they would achieve the balance he so longed for.

Man and Woman. One strong, the other beautiful. They would complement each other so well. And seek each other out. Woman, the life force, an enigma in herself, softer than snow, harder than ice. Man, the preserver, pliable yet solid, mountain of granite yet putty in her hands. He made her beautiful so he would come to her. He made him strong so she would go to him.

He felt his world complete. He breathed life into it and started dreaming.

*******

He woke up with a jolt. Sitting up, he felt acute disorientation and something akin to a headache.

As his bearings returned, he realized that he had gone to sleep for far longer than he had intended to. He felt thirsty and as he looked around for water, he suddenly remembered a vision, as if from a long forgotten dream, of great floods, water everywhere and his beloved earth drowning..

Pulling himself together, he prepared for a few seconds before making a gargantuan effort to get up from his seat. While his mind worked with the same precision and his eyes still had the omniscient gaze, he realized that his lower body strength left much to be desired.

He walked haltingly to the window and looked down upon the world, his world.

It was slick and red. It had the pink shimmer of a bloodied diamond. What had sounded like an energetic buzz at first was the resonance of a million screams. He looked far and wide and deep within its heart and all he could find was dismay and sorrow.

That fount of life, mother of all mankind, that beautiful creature, the woman, was getting flogged to within an inch of her life. Her once soft beauty had faded into pulp and her spirit itself had long been gone. The worst thing of all was that her slaughterer was none other than man.

Man, picking strength over nobility, lust over love, a hollow victory over all who were weaker than himself, never more flawed than when he pretended to be invincible. Over land, over destiny, over woman.

He averted his horrified gaze just as his knees threatened to give under him. He clutched at the window-sill to steady himself, reeking of desperation, the desperation of a tired old God looking at the last moments of a dying decaying world.

Steaming hot phulkas

Chetan Bhagat wrote an article a while ago on working women, expostulating the advantages of having one as your wife.

It was addressed to the Indian male and chided this man for always opting for 'garam phulkas' at the end of the day.

There was criticism from some quarters on this article. In fact, as I am scouring the web now for a link to the original article, I am amazed at the volume of criticism and the controversy it generated. I also cannot find the article anywhere. It seems to have disappeared into thin air like the steam from those garam phulkas.

Anyhow, the denunciation is mainly from well-educated young mothers, who have taken the call to stay at home and are deeply incensed by the insinuation that there is anything wrong with simply-making-the-phulka and not sharing in the bringing-home-of-the-atta.

While Chetan Bhagat is not my favorite author by any stretch of imagination, he has mass appeal. He has done, what we call in soap-n-shampoo universe - market development. He has compelled the non-reader to read.

What these women up-in-arms are missing is that they and their modern families constitute around 10% of India's population. The vast majority who live in towns like Amritsar, Jabalpur, Bhagalpur, Faridabad and even deeper down in smaller towns and villages, do still frown upon women working, having financial independence. And these families always opt to get their sons married to women who can make an excellent phulka and a mean paratha.

India today is in a state of flux. A vast country like this with such a fragmented demographic and lifestyle profile cannot change overnight and all together. That is why you find high income, well-educated families in the metros no different from those anywhere else in the world. The ones with less exposure in the same vicinity would be living vastly different lives based on a completely different set of principles. Just last month, I met some girls in Delhi, who spoke about how they wanted to ensure they have well-paying jobs - for the specific reason that their in-laws and husbands should think twice before asking them to stop working post-marriage.

Girls in Amritsar say in a matter-of-fact manner that in their families, going out and working is looked down upon. In fact, these girls are happy that things have progressed from a previous generation to the extent that they are allowed to study for as long as they want (but largely the Arts and not any vocational or application-oriented courses). There is an undercurrent of being constrained, as they are not absolutely cut-off from what is happening elsewhere in the world, but the tension doesn't go deep enough for them to defy these mores.

******
The point is that far too many young men, even as of today, feel that the place of a woman is at home. That she is first a wife, a mother and then anything else. And most importantly, that she does not or should not have the option to decide for herself.

Well, Chetan Bhagat speaks to this demographic and psychographic. Like no one else.

Except perhaps Salman Khan. In fact, I would say Salman's appeal goes even further down the income ladder if not deeper into the interiors of the country. So if ever the Indian government is looking for a poster-boy for creating awareness for women's rights and such in a soft, humorous, yet compelling manner, then it is Salman they should call. After all, with all this re-branding from his days of hits-and-runs, hitting women, poaching, and generally Being out-of-control to Being Human, he deserves more than Relaxo Chappal.