What shall be the 11th art?

What shall be the 11th art?
(A translation of my French essay)
Note: In France, cinema is said to be the 7th art. I have no idea about the other nine. Our French professor asked us to imagine what shall be the 11th art and here’s what I wrote.

0630: Mr. X wakes up. He showers while listening to the radio. As always, two road accidents, a report on Paris Hilton in jail and a bomb-blast in Palestine.
0730: He breakfasts. Along with decaffeinated coffee (since he’s real careful about his health)
Then he walks towards the station from where he will take the metro to work. His work doesn’t interest him. But since it pays well, he hangs on. He will return to work at eight with a pain in the back. He will go to bed, the television on, without eating his dinner but after having taken some anti-depressants.
Life goes on in this way. Of course, he goes on vacations sometimes. He goes to the beach, he has fun. He returns to work, with a tan and a hangover.
Life flies him by. At sixty, he’s rich, a ‘success’. After a stroke that almost killed him, he asks himself, “What did I do with my life?” It’s too late…
No one would like to end up like Mr. X. Yet, we let life pass us by, burying our dreams and doing what the society wants us to do. We forget that life is short and so one must rejoice every moment of it.
Considering this is a huge problem of the twenty-first century, I think the 11th art should be “the art of living”. And we must study and perfect this art which is dying.
Indeed, life has become too demanding. Or maybe we demand too much of life. We are like Alexander who wants to conquer the world. Here’s a little dialogue between him and Diogenes, the great philosopher.
Diogenes: What do you desire the most, your majesty?
Alexander: I wish to conquer Greece.
D: And then?
A: And then I wish to conquer the whole world.
D: And then?
A: And then I shall rest and enjoy myself.
D: But that, your majesty, you can do even now!

The translation of my prize-winning poem :)

TO EACH HIS FAITH

Be it the religion of Buddha,
The cult of Jesus or Zarathustra,
All religions preach harmony,
Love, peace and respect of life.

Isn’t it strange that in the name of religion,
Men become violent,
The learned exploit the ignorant,
And spread superstition.

Fanaticism is the arm of the narrow-minded,
Who have locked hearts, closed eyes,
Misguided by ignorance and prejudice,
Unleash wars and atrocities.

One day, I am sure, this madness will stop,
The world shall be tolerant – a Utopia!
Everyone shall be able to follow his own way,
To each his own life, to each his own faith.

Man and Woman: Different and Equal?

Are women really different from men apart, of course, from the obvious physical differences? Are their brains wired differently? Do they think differently? Are they from Venus while the men are from Mars? Will the two sexes ever find a common footing? Will the battle of the sexes ever end?

There has always been a great deal of debate on these questions between the two schools of feminists. Some believe men and women are fundamentally the same and the differences we see are the results of their different socialising. Simone de Beauvoir for one, argued that the reason why a woman differed from man was her upbringing. A little girl is brought up to be a woman in the future – a wife, a mother, “the carer”. A little boy is brought up to be a man – a husband, a father, “the provider”. Isn’t it quite common to give the little girl a doll as if to prepare her for the future motherhood? The boy, on the other hand, will quite likely be given a car to play with, as if to imbibe on him the importance of wealth and success. Thus, ‘the maternal instinct’ becomes an essentially feminine attribute and ‘wealth’ and ‘success’, typically masculine attributes. If at birth we are fundamentally the same, a man should develop the ‘carer instinct’ if given dolls to play with in his childhood. There is no scientific data to prove this and we probably will never know if this were true…

Then coming to the other school of thought, the ones that believe that men and women are fundamentally different in all respects. It is nature, and not years of socialising, that has endowed men and women with heir different characteristics. They believe that the roles of men and women are essentially complementary and yet, equal. I may be wrong here, but might this stance drive us to stereotyping, something that feminists have tried to fight against over the years? If the roles of women were different but complementary then maybe it is up to women to look after the household and the children and up to the men to work and earn? Certainly, it is not so as women have proved by successfully making their mark in the public sphere. Some might even argue that the roles of men and women are not necessarily complementary since many of us find perfect happiness living alone or with a partner of the same sex.

Now let us assume that men and women are fundamentally different. The woman is endowed with characteristics (stereo)typically attributed to her (caring, loving, sensitive forgiving, etc.). Ditto for the man (in this case, he’s a fighter, the protector, the provider). The woman is thus naturally inclined toward the home and the hearth. She stays back home to care for the children and look after the household. The man goes out to work and to earn the livelihood. There is a clear division of labour here, the two roles being complementary to each other. But then why is it so that the man’s work acquires precedence and is superior to the eyes of the society and the woman is just a ‘homemaker’? The two roles are equally important, the society requiring child-bearers and rearers as much as rocket scientists and doctors.

Take another example. Traditionally, women have opted and still opt in large number for study of humanities and languages. Men have been more partial to the hard sciences like engineering. It is probably a result of gender-stereotyping so prevalent in our society (arts is for girls, sciences are for boys) or maybe it’s just that women have a certain knack for languages and social sciences because they are supposed to be better communicators. The important question here is then why are the male-dominated streams considered superior to the streams where women seem to excel? Once again, doesn’t the society require teachers and translators as much as engineers and architects?

Now let’s keep the much-controversial question “Are men and women fundamentally different?” aside. Let’s just accept that gender-differences will continue to exist at least in the near future. And let’s celebrate the differences. And above all, let’s respect women for the choices that they make – be it to be a career-woman or a homemaker. Meanwhile, let’s leave it to the sociologists, the scientists and the feminists to find out if men and women are really different… Till then, here’s raising a toast to the differences which make life more rich and interesting!

One hundred years of Solitude

"My most important problem was destroying the lines of demarcation that separates what seems real from what seems fantastic." - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Hesitantly, I picked up and bought Marquez’s “One hundred years of Solitude”. Magical realism was a genre new to me. But once I’d begun reading, I was, to use a terrible cliché, hooked…
It is a book where the real and the surreal crisscross paths, where daguerreotypes and flying carpets co-exist, where a young girl rises into the heavens never to return and the steam-engine is brought into a village amidst jubilance. A village falls victim to an epidemic of insomnia but, like every other village has its share of jealousies, enmities and love-stories.
Marquez intertwines magic and realism effortlessly, and at a certain point, the reader can no longer differentiate between the two. He narrates the story of the village of Macondo, of the Buendia family whose fortunes rise and fall with that of the village. There is a story within the story, several sub-plots and a narrative that moves backwards and forwards. It is can become difficult to follow sometimes, with confusing relations between the Buendia family members and the recurring names. The family tree at the beginning of the book sure does help.
I absolutely loved this book for two reasons – its capacity to transport you into another world and of course, the delightful blend of fantasy and realism.
Another book that succeeds in doing this is Salman Rushdie’s “Shalimar, the Clown”, and I’ll review it later. For now, if you haven’t read “One hundred years of solitude”, get down to it ASAP…

À CHACUN SA FOI... (This is a French poem I wrote for a competition. I won!)

Que ce soit la religion de Bouddha,
Le culte de Jésus ou de Zarathoustra,
Toutes les religions prêchent l’harmonie,
L’amour, la paix, le respect de la vie.


N’est-il pas étrange qu’au nom de religion,
Les hommes deviennent violents,
Les savants exploitent les ignorants,
Répandant malédiction et superstition.


Le fanatisme est une arme des bornés,
Qui ont des cœurs serrés, des yeux fermés,
Trompés par l’ignorance et des préjugés,
Déclenchent des guerres, des atrocités.


Un jour, je suis sûr, s’arrêtera la folie,
Le monde sera tolérant – une Utopie !
Chacun pourra suivre sa propre voie,
À chacun sa vie, à chacun sa foi.

Quel sera le 11e art ? (This is an essay I wrote for my French class)

0630 : M. X se réveille. Il prend la douche écoutant la radio. Comme toujours deux accidents routiers, un reportage sur Paris Hilton en prison et un attentat en Palestine.
0730 : Il prend son petit-déjeuner. Avec du café décaféiné (comme il fait très attention à sa santé)
Puis il se lance vers la gare d’où il prendra le métro pour aller travailler. Son travail lui désintéresse. Mais comme il est bien payé, il semble content. Il rentrera chez lui à 20h avec un mal au dos. Il se couchera, la télé allumée, sans avoir dîné, mais après avoir pris des antidépresseurs.
La vie continue dans cette manière. Bien sûr, il prend des vacances parfois. Il va à la plage, il s’amuse. Et il revient au travail, bronzé et avec une gueule de bois.
La vie coule sans qu’il sache. À 60 ans, il est riche, « une réussite » Lors d’une apoplexie qui l’a faillit tué, il se demande, « Qu’est-ce que j’ai fait de ma vie ? » Trop tard…
Personne ne voudrait être comme M. X. Pourtant nous laissons passer la vie, enterrant nos rêves et faisant ce que la société veut de nous. Nous oublions que la vie est courte et donc il faut profiter de chaque moment. Tenant en compte ce grand problème de 21e siècle, je pense que le 11e art doit être « l’art de vivre » Et il faut étudier et parfaire cet art qui est en train de mourir.
Certes, la vie est devenue plus exigeante. Ou peut-être, nous exigeons trop de la vie. Nous sommes comme Alexandre qui veut conquérir le monde. Voici un dialogue entre lui et Diogène, un philosophe.
D : Que voulez-vous le plus, votre majesté ?
A : Je veux vaincre la Grèce.
D : Et puis ?
A : Je veux vaincre le monde entier.
D : Et puis ?
A : Et puis, je vais me reposer et m’amuser.
D : Mais ceci, votre majesté, vous pouvez le faire maintenant !

"As your writing becomes more and more personal, it becomes more and more universal”

This blog is about me, my thoughts and my opinions. But I hope you’ll find in my writings a part of you. Do not hesitate to tell me about it…