Guilty…

The other day, I was about to park my Scooty near a shop when a young man in his twenties almost blocked my way shouting, ‘Madam, madam!’ He was carrying a large handbag. An older woman (possibly his mother) stood near him, dressed in an old navwari sari. For a moment I was taken aback but I ignored them, parked my Scooty and walked into the shop. I wasn’t going to fall for this, I knew this trick. He’d say that he’d come to the city from some far-off village in search of work, hadn’t found any and had no money to go back home. Would I kindly help him? Fifty rupees? Twenty?

By the time I stepped out of the shop, the young man and his mother were gone. Almost relieved, I started off.

And then it crossed my mind; he was probably simply asking for directions… And I felt terribly guilty for not paying any attention to him.

L’oubli et les souvenirs de mon grand-père

Faut-il se méfier de l’oubli ? L’oubli qui nous arrache de notre passé et qui nous prive de nos souvenirs les plus beaux. Ou faut-il se réfugier là-dedans ? Dans l’oubli qui adouci les souvenirs les plus amers et qui guérit les blessures que laissent les séparations.

Aujourd’hui, il me reste très peu de souvenirs de mon grand-père. Il est mort il y a plus de dix ans. Pourtant, je l’ai beaucoup aimé. C’était mon meilleur ami. Il me reste très peu de souvenirs des après-midi que l’on a passé ensemble jouant je ne sais plus quoi. Je ne me souviens plus de la forme de ses mains. Je ne me souviens plus des airs qu’il jouait sur son harmonica. Je ne me souviens plus de l’histoire qu’il me racontait chaque nuit.

Certes, il me reste des photos. Grâce auxquelles je n’oublierai jamais son visage foncé et ses cheveux blancs comme la neige. Il me reste aussi ses clous, son tournevis et toutes ses affaires ; lui, qui aimait bricoler. Je n’ai pas encore oublié le timbre de sa voix. Je n’ai pas encore oublié les rêves que l’on a rêvés ensemble rentrant de l’école quand il venait me chercher.

Et puis, je n’ai pas oublié non plus le jour où on l’a trouvé allongé par terre dans sa chambre, des ronflements émanant de sa bouche. Il avait subit une crise cardiaque. Fatal. Pour la première fois, j’ai vu les adultes s’effondrer en larmes. Moi aussi, j’ai pleuré. J’ai pleuré toute la journée. Epuisée, je me suis dit « Ce n’est qu’un cauchemar. Ça va passer. » Mais c’était bien réel. Depuis, je n’ai pas revu mon grand-père.

J’ai peur qu’un jour l’oubli gagne sur les souvenirs de mon grand-père, qu’un jour, je perde un peu de ce qui me reste de mon enfance.

Resolutely Non-Resolutionary

We played this interesting game at the New Year’s party. Everyone has to write down their resolutions on a piece of paper without disclosing their identity. Somebody then reads out the resolutions one by one and the others have to guess to whom that particular resolution belongs. It’s quite hilarious especially if the resolutions are written with a touch of humour.

Since I was hosting the game, I didn’t have to write down any resolution. Good thing though since I don’t have any. To give a clichéd response, my resolution is not to make any resolution at all. Because, after all the resolutions are forgotten the very moment the New Year celebrations are over. In all of the documented human history nobody is known to have lasted for more that a week…

Well, but since we have already crossed the threshold of the New Year, one must make some resolutions if only to uphold an old tradition. In any case, it doesn’t matter how long you last.

So here goes –

1) I will cut down on eating outside.
2) I will cut down on unnecessary expenditure like CCD coffees and Pastry Corner’s rum balls.
3) I will go for walks and exercise every single day. (Ouch!)
4) I will study regularly. (Ouch! Ouch!)
5) I will attend college classes regularly. (Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Someone make me stop!)
6) I will work for world peace and bring an end to American hegemony. (Don’t snicker. This resolution is not any more improbable than the five above)
7) And here’s one for the benefit of my dear (non-existent (sniff! sniff!)) reader – I will stop making idiotic posts such as this one.

Now that I have seven resolutions in place, I can now go about forgetting them conveniently; at least until the next New Year’s…

Angry and disgusted...

What a wonderful starting to the New Year! Two women were molested outside J W Marriott where they had attended the New Year bash, by a mob of forty to fifty people. Thankfully (and quite surprisingly, considering how apathetic we Indians are in public) someone called the police but by the time they arrived the women had been trapped in crowd of those lousy perverts for about 10-15 minutes! No complaint was lodged until today when a tabloid published pictures of the horrendous incident.

Mind you, this is not the first incident of its kind. Last year, on the New Year’s Eve, a girl was molested by a mob near the Gateway of India. A few boys were later arrested, but that’s about it.

What is this country coming to? Can’t women and girls walk on the roads without the fear of being groped by sick men?

The police has conveniently washed off its hands saying they did all that they could and this was just an isolated event. I wonder how many women were molested and hurt that night but went unnoticed by cameramen.

The moral brigade will probably shout from the rooftops about how the New Year’s celebrations are a part of the ‘western culture’ (and thus necessarily evil) and how it is corrupting our young generation. And, by the way, shouldn’t respectable women be at home at 1.30 pm?

Women’s associations will cry hoarse.

Women will have to think twice before going on a night out.

The papers and the news channels will hash the issue until we’re bored.

And finally, it will be forgotten. At least until the next New Year’s.

What can we do to stop such events? Who is to blame?

Is it the girl herself? Does she invite all the bad attention by dressing ‘skimpily’? I personally do think that one needs to dress carefully to avoid getting into negative situations. But then, one cannot justify a rape or molestation by putting the blame on the girl by saying that she was dressed provocatively or that she was present at the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing can ever and I repeat, ever give a guy the right to invade a girl’s personal space.

Is it then the influence of the ‘western’ culture? It’s time we got out of the self-congratulatory mode and stopped proclaiming that ours is the greatest culture on the planet. Instead of playing the blame game, we need to identify the problems in our society and do something about it.

Or is it the guy? It’s tempting to say yes. But I think it is the upbringing that is responsible for such behaviour. I mean, if a guy has seen his father beating his mother and friends teasing girls passing by on the road, it is very unlikely that he shall develop respect for women when he grows up. So I think the only solution is to teach little boys to respect women and girls. Not to put them on the pedestal and worship them but, to recognise them as fellow human-beings and their equals. This might sound a little naïve, but sometimes the solutions to big problems are really quite simple. Or are they?

Adieu 2007!

You have been good to me…

You taught me that it’s ok to be confused and scared about where your life is going; eventually you do find the right way.

You showed me that nothing is impossible; no dream is too big, no goal is unachievable.

You taught me to be brave and to follow my heart; you risk nothing and you gain nothing.

You helped me understand that my family is my biggest strength; without their support and love, I wouldn’t have the courage to carry on.

You taught me not to take things for granted; hard work and perseverance are the only keys to success.

You have been really good to me… But it’s time to move on now. I only hope 2008 is as good to me as you were!


Welcome 2008!!!

Utterly Insignificant

Gauri Nawathe is Utterly insignificant, a complete waste of matter.
The Universe does not register your existence in any way. Your life or death does not, and will not have any significance whatsoever, but take heart... you are not alone…

That’s what a personality test on Facebook called me… Utterly insignificant… Hmm…

I guess we need to be reminded of this from time to time, so that we stop taking ourselves seriously and remember that there are much more important things in the world…

Monkeys and Traditions

A thought-provoking story I recently read:

An anthropologist was doing research on some monkeys in a zoo. The monkeys were kept in a cage. A bunch of bananas were hung to the ceiling and a ladder was placed next to it. Every time a monkey tried to climb up and eat the bananas, the anthropologist would shower cold water on him. After a while, the monkeys ceased trying to reach up to the bananas. Even when someone did try, he was promptly beaten up and pulled down by the other monkeys. Cold water showers were no longer needed to dissuade them.

A few days later, the anthropologist removed a monkey from the cage and sent in a new simian. This new resident, unaware of ‘the rule’, would try to climb the ladder. The other monkeys would beat him up until ‘the rule’ was clear to him. Some days later, the anthropologist introduced a new monkey into the cage after removing one from the original group. This new monkey too would be beaten until he submitted to ‘the rule’.

Eventually, the anthropologist replaced all the monkeys from the original group. But ‘the rule’ prevailed. The new monkeys had never experienced the cold showers; they were just imitating the others. And thus, a tradition was passed on and followed even though the monkeys had not a clue why…

(Isn’t it time we stopped acting like the monkeys? After all, we are in a much more advanced stage of evolution. Or are we?)

Cultural Relativism and Human Rights

Cultural relativism is defined as ‘understanding another culture in its own terms sympathetically enough so that the culture appears a coherent and meaningful design for living.’ Note the use of the word “sympathetic”.
Cultural relativism encourages us to understand another culture with an open mind free of any prejudices. It makes us realise that there are more than one ways of living because culture is basically a way of life. It prevents us from jumping to conclusions on what is right and what is wrong.
Sometime ago, I listened to a programme on Radio France where they were discussing women’s rights in the North African countries with predominantly Muslim populations (Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria). Eventually, the issue of polygamy came up. The speakers immediately voiced their outrage over this practice. But one of them (a woman) explained that women in these countries are only happy to welcome the second or the third wife because it helps to ease the burden of household chores and farm work.
So the point I’m trying to make here is that what might seem wrong to me, might work well for someone else.
But can cultural relativism justify horrible “cultural” practices like female circumcision, honour killings, stoning an adulterer to death, etc.? Think of the British teacher who was arrested in Sudan for allowing her students to name the class teddy-bear ‘Mohammed’. Unlike others and without doubt because she was a foreigner, she was lucky to have received a full pardon. I firmly believe that anything that violates human rights should be condemned.
I do not recall the exact details of the case but a Spanish judge acquitted a man for beating his wife because (the judge said) it was quite a common thing to do among his kind of people (his culture). This is nothing but patronising behaviour; if one of us does it, it’s condemnable but if one of them does it, it’s ok, because it’s their culture!
Protection of human rights should be our main concern, rather than avoiding hurting somebody’s cultural (or religious) sensibilities.

The Dream Diary

Last night I dreamt of a snowfall. It started with little wisps of snow and then turned into a shower. It looked so pretty against the grey skies. Thankfully I was dressed for the occasion. I ran out into the snowfall, my hands stretched out to catch the snow. And I distinctly remember that it all happened in slow motion. A result of watching too many movies, I guess!

I also dreamt of beating the hell out of a man. I’d never seen the man before and I don’t even remember why I beat him. Wonder what this dream means… Does it mean that I feel threatened by them? Or is it the other way around? Or is there too much aggression bottled up in me?

Battle against the extra kilos

Hunting for a good pair of jeans that fits well can be traumatising. First of all, you realise that you are never going to fit in those incredibly stylish skinny jeans. Then, with great horror, you realise that your waist-line has expanded since you last went jeans-hunting. You silently curse all those moments you gave in to the temptation of those gigantic ice-cream sundaes, those extra helpings of pav bhaji and those sugar-loaded Diwali mithais. You silently curse yourself for not sticking to the morning walk routine just for a few more hours of sleep. And then you make resolutions to exercise more and eat healthy. Only to break them a few hours later when mom cooks up some delicious biryani.

Post-Diwali and post-vacations-in-Gujarat (where every meal has at least two sweets soaked in ghee), I’m contemplating starting the battle against the extra kilos. My plans include –
1) Going for walks twice a day
2) Eating less
3) Eating healthy
4) Stop munching on chocolate-coated almonds as I write this

To put this plan into action and to ensure that I stick to eat… oops, it, I have decided to take some very strict measures –
1) Setting the alarm clock night after night even if I ignore it day after day (One should never give up hope)
2) Not stocking the fridge with snacks (That means not visiting the neighbourhood supermarkets, because they have a way of enticing you to buy stuff you shouldn’t)
3) Not raiding the fridge every two minutes (As if, miraculously, a chocolate cake or something delicious would appear in it)
4) Posting stupid entries on the blog such as this one to take mind off food.