Quote Unquote Love

There are two things our society seems to be absolutely obsessed with, a) falling in love and b) losing weight. Okay maybe it is too much to blame the entire society for something that seems to be a common phenomenon on my Facebook page. Yes people are obsessed with more than these two things, but I am not really interested in those at this moment. Now that I've refuted all your scholarly claims, I'd like to go on with this piece of brain fart. Thank you very much.

So falling in love. There are all these wonderful quotes on Facebook and elsewhere too I guess, telling me to fall in love with this one and not that one or sometimes no one. There's all the wisdom about loving right and left. Love oh my you must. For love is . 

I read all this beautiful advice. I even like (press a button and like, not just mere words) them sometimes, mostly when I'm PMSing or have just eaten a hearty meal. Then there are days like these when I am just horribly cynical and real about every thing. 

Anyhow so I read all these lovely quotes about fostering romance. I read one today, which said something like: Love someone who lets you act crazy and doesn't make you act normal. Excuse my unromantic paraphrasing. When I read this I was like okay I'll do as you say. Love the crazy one, the one on the left, the one who makes me laugh. Cool let's say I'm loving it. But hey genius, quote writer you forgot the part where that other person has to love you back. Maybe you can write a quote telling the other person to fall back in love with the one who acts crazy. Otherwise your lovely advice is crap.

Hah horribly real. Sorry (not) for breaking your quote bubble. 

Now let me unleash my cheesy cynicism. Love is a two way street. You love someone they don't, love cancelled, move on till you find a street which makes you say "fuck was I thinking?". If your traffic sense is as bad as mine then stick to the pavements. Walk along watching out for traffic on either side of the streets just in case you need to cross over to the pavement on other side.  

I know this won't stop cheesy quotes on Fb. Hopefully with this blog I've added a few terrible ones to the collection. 

And now before you conclude that I am in love and utterly sad. I'd be writing kickass poems if that were true. I'm writing this because I'm just tired of being to told to fall in love, like my entire existence depends on it. Exactly how I'm tired of being told to be thinner, smarter, richer etc. Somehow we've made everyone believe that something has to happen to them, when in real it might happen to a few people like almost every other thing in this world. 

Stop it. 

Library: a love note

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There are rows and rows of books as far as I can see. Economics, business and marketing are behind me, probably staring at my head as I type. In front of me lie shelves full of social science, ethnicity, migration and who knows what else. The librarian does or the person who walks by every now and then, arranging and rearranging books in these shelves. It’s hard to believe that this person knows the location of every book on this floor, or even the entire library. A remarkable, rather envious skill.

If a library could speak, it would have such wonderful things to say. But it waits to be read. Every now and then someone comes by with the capacity and motivation to absorb everything it has give. Otherwise the library just sits there for years, holds all that spectacular, often dark and mysterious knowledge within in itself.

Every now and then it watches a lost soul wander into its alleys and find itself by just looking at a part of one of the numerous shelves that wait to enlighten. It must feel great when some one comes back to the same shelf looking for more.

It’s a busy place, the library, bustling with students in the day time. More of them during exam time. As the night descends it becomes the solace of a few. Those who stay behind with it, because its peace embraces their lonely souls. The smell of books, and the silence of concentration inspires them to open up their minds and absorb the knowledge that drifts in its corridors.

Then there are those who have no where else to be. They find their little corner and think of it as their home. Outside they feel lost, isolated. Inside they have the company of thousands of books. Some books they look at, and some books look at the back of their head as they type their first ever love note to a new friend in a strange town.

Back From the Dead. More Like Undead

I'm trying to make a 'comeback' to blogging. Like most, much hyped comebacks in Bollywood, this one too seems to be like a disaster. My next attempt will be an item no. An attempt after that will have a to be a reality TV stint. I really don't want that so I'm going to make this a successful piece.

Where do I begin? Should I tell you about my trip to Kasol, in Himachal Pradesh? Oh how I yearn for that trip again.

Just wandering around hills and streams, eating delicious food, sitting on a huge rock in the middle of a stream and reading a book and falling asleep in comforting sunlight.

I am just making it sound more romantic than it was. Memories afterall are stories we tell ourselves. John Slattery's words not mine. We blur the parts we don't like, enhance the brightness of particular portions and ignore everything else.

Coming back to the Kasol trip. It was life changing in many ways. Back from the beautiful hills I decided to quit my job and figure out life. This was followed by more trips to Pondicherry, Kodaikanal, Calcutta, Delhi, Jabalpur, Kota, Ladakh, Gokarna and now I've reached a new continent.

Though I still haven't figured out my life. Some more wandering and wondering will be necessary to get to the bottom of this. While I do that I'll try and write more, a lot more. The one thing I did figure out was that writing is the only thing that can keep me alive.

Keep an eye on this space for my next item number. It might just be a blink and miss cameo.

Oh and here's a picture from Kasol, year 2013. ©

Relax! It's a Human Right

From the long list of Human Rights there's one which always caught my attention. It's the right to rest from work and relax. Article 24 of the Universal Declaration probably says it a bit more formally, but the meaning does not change. As humans beings we have the right to leisure. 

Two other rights in the declaration make it clear that human rights are enjoyed by humans irrespective of their gender, race, caste, nationality, and all the other meaningless social classifications. It also says that these rights cannot be taken away from us. 

Keeping all this mind, it's safe to say that stress is actually a violation of Human Rights. Not taking a break and working like the world is coming to an end is an international level offence. 

Now that you know this, put-up the list of Human Rights in your work area for everyone to see. If you are feeling particularly inspired, highlight the right to rest and relax. That way more people will know their Human Rights and their right to take a break.  

For whoever is making you work without rest does not probably realise the implications of their act. An International Declaration has given you the right. The United Nations is protecting this right. Yet we toil endlessly. 

When we actually exercise this right, we come-up with multiple excuses to justify it. Some of us work even when we are on vacation. We either feel guilty about taking a break or worse made to feel guilty about taking a break. 

Well, we shouldn't because it's a basic human right listed in a Declaration ratified by the world. Next time someone tries to guilt-trip you into cancelling your leave, tell them that they are violating an international right. If they don't get it, show them the Universal Declaration of Human Rights pinned-up on your desk. 

Durga's Tale with a Twist

I was probably 4-5 years old when my father first narrated the story of the battle between Durga and Mahishasura. My father is a gifted and dramatic storyteller. He had to repeat this story every year and sometimes everyday during Navratri. He confesses to have fudged up the sequence to make it more interesting for me. The story I heard as a five year old, is the story I believe in till date. 

A demon named Mahishasura was causing havoc on Earth. Humans lived in constant terror of his atrocities. Each day they prayed for someone to come and save them from his destructive streak.

Unlike these days, Gods used respond to such calls of help. So they heard and saw all the trouble on Earth and decided that something had to be done soon. The big three of Indian mythology; Brahma, Vishnu and Mahesh met and sanctioned immediate action. Neither of them could handle this on their own so they called Mahesh or Shiva's consort Parvati to create a version of herself to fight this mighty demon.

So Durga was created. She had in her the power of all the Gods. Ten hands with ten weapons is how she's depicted in most images. But she had two hands with the power of ten and the ability to yield every weapon (it's my version). All set for combat, she calls for her lion and sets out to fight this monster.

She lands at Mahishasur's home and asks for him. His servant answers the door and asks her to wait. He tells his master demon that a beautiful woman, astride a lion is here to see him. "She wants you to stop these atrocities."

The demon laughs and says, "Oh really? Ask her what will she do if I don't?"

The servant runs back to Durga with this question. She says, "Then I will fight him and kill him." When Mahisasur hears this, he laughs even louder. He says, "Let's fight then."

He is so sure about winning that he does not even take his armour. He walks out in his chaddis (again, my version) to fight the all mighty Durga. Thus begins a single combat between Durga and Mahishasur. 

The demon is in for a shock when every move of his is returned by her and each time it's a deathly blow. He has lost his weapons and has no armour. To save his life he hides inside a buffalo.

Eager to finish this task Durga starts looking for the demon who is now disguised as a buffalo. That's when her lion catches the buffalo by its neck and rips open its stomach. Mahishasura makes a last attempt to attack Durga, but she finishes him by thrusting her spear into his heart.

People were happy and celebrated their liberation at the hand of this powerful goddess for nine days. Mahishasura must have been a good demon for his death is being celebrated till today. People dance, sing, shop, eat and a close to bankrupt State spends crores to celebrate this nine-day war.  

There are different interpretations of this celebration. For some Navratri is a celebration of Durga's homecoming after she defeats Mahishasur. There are others who celebrate to remind themselves that good always wins over evil. Some celebrate all of it and some don't really need a reason to celebrate anything. None of these are reasons for my celebration.

The tale I heard as a child was slightly twisted, unintentionally. The moral I derived from it wasn't the usual either. I knew Mahishasur was in for trouble when he laughed at the peace proposal offered by a beautiful woman. He made it worse by going out to fight her unarmed. She was dead serious, as he found out later.

That man lost his head for thinking he could get away easily with a woman. He assumed that being a man and a demon made him superior. That's the defeat I celebrate.

After all these years, there a humans who still swear by Mahishsura's assumption. They celebrate his death without realising that their beliefs are not too different from the demon's.  For even while worshipping the great diety, Durga, they continue with their demeaning ways with women.

Experts in mythological story telling will find a zillion mistakes with my story. I've heard the so called accurate version too, but I stand by my version of the story. 

This is the version I'll pass on to my children. I suggest you do the same. Tell your children how a man's assumption of superiority to a woman cost him his head.

Happy Navratri!

Take a break, smell the coffee and head to Coorg

City dwellers have this strange obsession of finding a new place to spend their holiday. Our day-to-day life is so full of hollow, seemingly busy activities that we panic when there’s nothing to do. Yet we know that at times not doing anything is what we need to do. 

If you’ve figured this out, then you should be packing your bags for your first trip to somewhere in Coorg or the Kodagu district in Karnataka. As a bit of online research will tell you, Coorg is the land of coffee, pepper, honey and unending green cover. It’s called the Scotland of India. I’ve not seen Scotland, so I’m not sure about the aptness of this comparison. If it holds true, then Scotland must be a very beautiful place. 

You could go to Madikeri and look at the usual tourist sites and shop from the specialities of the district. If you are a fan of non-touristy destinations like me, then head towards Virajpet and then go deeper into the unexplored areas of Kodagu. 

Getting to Virajpet is easy. Local buses, including air conditioned Volvos run from Bangalore and Mysore. I took a local non-ac bus the first time I visited Virajpet. It took long, around 10 hours, but the sights from my un tinted, open window made-up for it. 

From the window seat of my rickety bus, I first saw Coorg and eventually started feeling it. You can’t recover from that kind of beauty. It’s the kind of beauty that made Wordsworth worship nature. You can’t be sure if it is for real. You’ve seen it in paintings and postcards somewhere.

The flat, brown landscape starts giving way to treacherous slopes guarded by coffee and pepper as you get closer to Kodagu district. The heat of the dusty cities gives way to fresh, coffee-smelling air. If you are lucky a few raindrops might drop-by as well. Then come the beautiful cottages, a welcome break from the never ending skyscrapers of the city. 

Once you conquer the awe of seeing Coorg, you start feeling it. All that quaint beauty tugs at you, pulls you in and heals you. It eases the weary mind, the tired body and the broken soul. It takes over, soothes you and nourishes you till you become a part of it. 

The warmth and hospitality of the people in Coorg will make you want to stay forever. Meat lovers won’t be disappointed as tradition Kodava cuisine favours the carnivores. Pig or pandi being the most popular delicacy. Vegetarians don’t despair. There’s the raw mango curry and a local variety of French beans to satiate your hunger. Of course there’s enough coffee and honey for everyone.

As you spend more time in this beautiful land, you realize that doing nothing is the greatest occupation. You can’t really come back from Coorg, some part of your mind will always wander off to the cloud covered hill-tops and the numerous coffee estates. As work consumes you, you’ll smell the coffee and take yourself back to the land that heals.