Is it a Girl? Is it a Woman? No, it’s a Prototype!

Sometimes I wonder what Eve, the first woman on earth looked like. Did Adam fall for her just because she was the only woman on planet earth, or did she have a specific look and bodily dimensions that lead to the ‘ideal women’ being condemned to have those specific attributes? I have very basic knowledge about Adam and Eve, however I would like to know what lead to everyone figuring out what a perfect woman should look like. What is all the hue and cry about size 0, and the 36-24-36 dimensions?

If you look back into history, in the 18^th century, the common belief was that if a woman was heavy and voluptuous, it meant that she was intelligent, and would bear healthy children. Well, we know how long that lasted! I wonder what it is like in the minds of all those women who put themselves through starvation and degradation, who deny themselves FOOD to look like a sack of bones. What is it, is it so that more and more men would tail you like a pack of wolves? Is that it? Or is it a self esteem issue? Like Sheldon Cooper would ask, “Is your bodily mass somehow connected to your self-worth?”

I myself am a UK size 18, and I will not deny that there have been times when I myself have wished that I was thinner, but not a sack of bones, NEVER a sack of bones. Then I give myself a good punch (I can do that now, with all the basic kickboxing training I have had) and remind myself that it doesn’t matter. Why do we want to be like every other ‘skinny chic’ we encounter? Society has fed us with this bullshit long enough, and now we feel like anything more than ‘skinny’ is just unacceptable. Its like creating robots, the next one is going to be just like the last one. Why do we let others decide what we must look and be like?

The most appalling thing that I find is that women themselves look down upon other women for the way they look. I mean come on bitches, don’t we have the male population to make us feel bad enough? Do we have to turn against each other too? Since time immemorial, we have asked the question, “Can men and women be ‘just friends’?” however, the real question is can women be friends without biting each other’s heads off! Okay, that’s a completely different train wreck of a thought process, and let’s leave the opening of that Pandora’s Box to another rainy day.

Coming back to the million dollar question, why do we want to be yet another prototype? I am by no means saying that you must simply forget about your health and indulge in complete gluttony, but why deny yourself the occasional pleasure of a delicious, soft, freshly baked chocolate cake for a dude who looks like something Thor coughed up and spat out? Here are two pictures below, which one would you choose?

Why Choose TV Shows Over People

Well, it is safe to say that my obsession over TV shows has reached its peak, since I think it is better to replace with people, and rightfully so. However, this is not some spur in the moment thought, it is something that has actually been playing on my mind for a while now. Here are a few reasons why I think this could be a good idea:

1.       You will know exactly when to expect from a TV show. Yes, they come once a year, and you know the duration for what it will last. There are no stupid tantrums like, “Where were you when I needed you?” and “You promised me so-and-so, but you failed to do so!” Nope, you know exactly what you are getting into, and what you will get out of it.

2.       There is so much to learn from them. All shows, no matter what the genre, have so much to teach you, if only you pay heed, unlike people who have the same old morals and lectures to give out. Booooorrrrriiinnnggggg!

3.       TV shows give you a kind of psychological release. Say for example, when you watch Dexter, and he says ‘I really need a kill tonight,’ in some corner of your mind you think ‘Yeah baby, go get it, I wish I could too, but I guess will have to live it through you.’ There is a place for your deepest and most brazen thoughts to fester, thoughts that if you say out loud, people may flee from your vicinity like you have sprouted an extra head on your shoulder!

4.       The feel of belonging to a community. Yes, I know, this sort of contradicts my own train of thoughts about TV shows being better than people and communities made of people, but when you obsess over a TV show, you join the hoards of other fans and become a part of a fandom that binds you together, and you feel less weird and awkward amongst ‘adorable ordinary people’ (Sherlock style).

I could go on and on, but these are the foremost reasons that I would pick TV shows over people any day of the week. Sure, you can argue all you like about companionship and blah and blah, but there is nothing better than personal experience, and my experience says that when you need people the most, they walk out, find a hundred other things to do and then some. TV shows have always been there, when everyone left, they walked in, and man, they have been worth every single extended download limit and more. My vote goes for them, anytime, any day. 

To The Brink of Insanity and Back

There are always times in your life when you wonder when was it that all the laughter died; when was it that your face began to display more frowns and blank expressions and less smiles. Its scary, really, when you come to think of it, when you are in your 20’s and yet you feel like an old hag who has lived the best years of her life.

You know you are losing it when Microsoft Word corrects your grammar, the basic singular and plural stuff. Like seriously? Microsoft Word? That thing has less of a grasp on grammar than a two year old. And yet, it is true. When did I turn into that person? That once sharp mind is now reduced to this muddled state.

Then again you are only made to bear what you give to the world, so it is safe to assume that all the suffering that you go through is actually something that you have made someone else suffer. Life is really a full circle, believe me on that.

One day you think that just because you haven’t thought about a person for a while, haven’t wished them on holidays and special occasions, you are finally free from their grasp, or rather from the grasp of their blasted memories. However, that is not true. Memories don’t really leave us. They are merely waiting in the dark abyss of your mind, waiting to spring like a volcano when you least expect it, to catch you unawares and pull you down into that same old pit of self doubt and insecurities. And all the things that you have done so hard to forget or shove in some unsuspecting corner of your mind suddenly are out there in the open. Its like an appendix really, dormant, until it erupts and then there is no stopping it. Wait, now I am resorting to metaphors from the medical world? See, this is what friggin memories do to you.

A little part of every creative person’s mind is said to be insane. Maybe I got more than my fair share of insanity, I don’t know. Not that I am complaining, I would rather be slightly more insane than what is normally accepted than be an uptight 21^st century version of Cousin Violet from Downton Abbey (Although she is really awesome; she is the granny many wish for, but only few are lucky enough to have).

Anyway, where was I? Yeah, memories. Well, I think the best way to deal with it all is to accept it as it comes, to know that somewhere after all the pain and hurt you are never going to be the same, maybe your smile will have a little less of a curve than before and maybe some of that charming innocent spark will have gone out of your eyes, but again it’s fire that moulds the iron, not cotton candy.

Be grateful for pain, cos without true suffering there would be no true happiness. Does that make even the slightest bit of sense? Okay, fine, I need to replenish my stock of Old Monk cos now I am just rambling on like an old fool.

The Songs That Say It All

Whenever someone remarks over a TV show, more often than not its about the cast, or the plot; however, for me what clicks in a TV show is the theme song. Agreed, I do get obsessed with the cast or the intricate plot, but the theme song is where my real obsession lies. From listening to it for hours no end to setting it as my ringtone, I have done it all. Here is a little about the shows and a lot about the theme songs and where to find them.

Sherlock

Originally, Sherlock Holmes lived in the 1980’s and smoked a pipe for recreation, and the modern day Sherlock isn’t too far along. He does indulge in ‘recreational drugs’ and nicotine patches, besides that he is completely tech-savvy, going at it with the latest gadgets and scientific means of experimenting. The background score and the theme song are composed by David Arnold and Michael Price. Caution: Before you know it you will be hooked on and will be listening to the entire soundtrack back to back without a pause. You have been warned!

You can download the complete soundtrack on torrents from the link below:

http://thepiratebay.se/torrent/7036156/BBC_Sherlock__Season_One_Soundtrack_[OST]

Homeland

Phew! What can I say about this show that will do it justice? Merely mentioning its name gives me the chills (which has got nothing to do with the weather in Mumbai, which only alternates between hot and very hot). The plot is very simple, a Marine who was captured and held by the al-Qaeda as a prisoner of war in Afghanistan ‘turns’ against the US, threatening national security. On his trail is Carrie Mathison, the intense and bi-polar CIA officer, who seems to be the only one who can see right through him. Like my friend Prajakta says, “If nothing else, this show must come with a statutory warning stating ‘Not for persons suffering from a heart condition’”. The theme song is a jazz number. It seems like an odd choice for a psychological thriller, yet it brilliantly fits. Of course the song in the link below doesn’t have the vigilant Carrie Mathison saying in the background, “I am just trying to make sure that we don’t get hit again!” But then, you can’t have everything, can you?

You can download the song through this link

http://beemp3.com/download.php?file=20858720&song=Terminal+7

Dexter

Say what you may about how gory or disgusting the show gets at times, the idea of a vigilante serial killer who is also a blood-splatter analyst in his ‘fake life’ (or so he thinks) appeals to everyone at one point or another. This show is known for its season-long plots with breathtaking twists that blow your brains away. And of course the smolderingly hot Debra Morgan who can make a nun turn lesbian. The theme song of Dexter is a music piece composed by Daniel Licht. Although, the video simply relays Dexter’s early morning ritual of waking up, having breakfast, dressing up, trust me, it is creepier than a Psycho joining you in the shower.

You can download the song through this link

http://beemp3.com/download.php?file=6076235&song=dexter+theme

2 Broke Girls

The executive producers of Sex and the City have struck gold once again. Voted as the Best American Comedy of 2011, this show is back with a bang in season 2. Billionaire-princess-turned-broke Caroline finds brought-up-by-an-alcoholic-mom Max and thus begins the most hilarious roller coaster ride of all times. Caroline with her peppy and I-went-to-Wharton tag line along with Max’s stick it in your face attitude and a rack that could stop traffic, make for the most bizarre friends ever. The theme song ‘Second Chance’ also plays as a background score at various instances in the show.

You can download the song through this link

http://beemp3.com/download.php?file=9241342&song=Second+Chance

                        

Congratulations! We’re living in the 1920’s Britan. Not.

Recently I came across this TV show Downton Abbey, it a period drama set in the village of Yorkshire in the UK during the 1920’s. It struck me that the cultural beliefs that they held in the year 1920 are not too different from those that we hold in India currently. Here is how:

Thou shall not believe in something as foolish as ‘love marriages’. This is the most in-your-face similarity that I found. Agreed, back then there were Earls and Dukes and inheritances at stake and so marriages were ‘arranged’ so as to stick to their own kind. So what’s all the hue and cry against love marriages in India in this time and age? What are you afraid of; some cute North Indian gene spoiling the proportion of your Gujju Dhokla?

Thou shall behave like a ‘virtuous lady’ at all times. This is a funny one, because despite living in a world where when you first move into a new city the first question out of your mouth is, “How is the night life around here?”, and yet we want the girls and women to behave like they have a golden halo behind their heads. Like seriously, what’s with the obsession of wanting to wed an angel when instead your married life would be more entertaining if she is an ex-stripper named Angel?

Thou shall be well versed with all household duties. There are actually finishing schools that offer courses in cooking, stitching, cleaning, home decorations and also child development. And honestly, they will never run out of business as long as we keep expecting women to be the one stop shop for all household needs. I would be surprised if the marketing logo of these schools doesn't resemble a Goddess, only instead if a spear and a chakra, she will be holding spoons and knitting needles.

All jokes apart, my intention is not to insult beliefs, or look down on someone who doesn't think or behave like I do. I simply feel that we live in a world of make-belief where we want to pretend that times haven’t changed, and where values and beliefs are thrust upon the younger generations, leaving no room for them to discover their own path. If the youth isn’t given to freedom to slip and learn, then we are simply taking one step forward towards progress and back two towards frustration and disappointment.

Better than the best

I am a huge fan of American and British television shows. I would go so far as to say that I am addicted to them. Two of my favourite shows of all times have been Dexter and Fringe. I used to swear on my life that those were two of the most intriguing shows I had ever laid eyes on. However, recently I came across a couple of shows that made both these favourite shows of mine seem lame and only mildly interesting at best.

I was stunned and it got me thinking that this happens more often than not in life; just when we think that this is it, it can’t get better than this, life proves us wrong by throwing at us something better than the best. All it requires out of us is some patience. Why can’t we wait? Why do we want what we want exactly when we want it? Why is it so hard to believe that life has bigger plans for us? Sometimes we put up with something that we think is the best thing that has ever happened to us, we feel like letting go of it would be worse than death itself. In the process we end up hurting ourselves, time and again, and yet we don’t instead choose to move on and wait for what awaits us in the future.

If there is anything that I have learnt it is that life always has something better to offer. Just before I had come to this city, I had had a bad falling out with one of my best friends. It was devastating. And just when I thought that the kind of friendship I had seen portrayed ‘Friends’ was a myth and too good to be true, I met this extraordinary person who restored my faith in friendship and in fate itself. Today we are almost like soul sisters and I shudder to think how barren life was before I had discovered this bond. All I had to do was wait, have patience, and I finally found the kind of BFF I had always been looking for.

Don’t go through unnecessary pain and tolerate cruelty and injustice at the hands of someone who doesn’t value you enough just cos you are afraid that you may miss out on the best thing that ever happened to you. If it was really that great or meant to be, would it be so difficult and painful? 

From ‘could be’ to ‘maybe’

We have all been sold the idea of a ‘Soul mate’, by books, or movies or TV shows. Since time immemorial, man has always been on a quest to find that one person who is the other half of his soul, the one true companion who understands and loves him like no other. Times have changed, the world has progressed tremendously, in various aspects, but what has always remained a constant is the search for that one true love (unless of course you are a Gujju chick born with the ‘$’ symbol imprinted on the your eyes and embedded in your genes; and are also the poster girl for “Gold-diggers Are Us”, in which case your true love is money, honey).

In our lives, if we are lucky, there comes a time, or a moment when we tend to get to know a person, a complete stranger, with whom we seem to form an unexplainable connection. The kind of connection where you have to merely think of that person and the next moment you receive a call or a text from that person; you get the drift. And you think to yourself, ‘Man! This is awesome; is it for real?’ Maybe it is. But them you are also scared as it is almost too good to be true. You probably think to yourself that maybe you are making too much of it, and that it isn’t really that spectacular.

Many of us have this image in our heads of ‘The Soul mate’. We have carried it around in our mind long enough to actually conjure up the person out of pure imagination. We think, ‘How difficult is it? The world is huge, surely there is one such person who matches the one I have in my mind?’ there is nothing wrong in thinking so, only that in the quest of something that is merely a figment of your imagination, you may tend to let go of the real, breathing person whom you have a strong bond with. You may tend to let go of that person just because that person may lack a few traits that you have always wanted in the love of your life. What is more pitiable is if these traits happen to be of the physical aspect. What, are you looking for a mannequin to put up in your shop, or for a life partner?

Everyone has their own fish to fry, and I am no one to judge or advice. All I can say is think, imagine yourself at the age of say 50, when you are at the top of the game, have a successful career, beautiful children; whom would you like to come home to? A gorgeous trophy-wife who is too busy attending a ‘kitty party’ or splurging your money on an impulsive shopping spree to give you a warm hug and a kiss when you return home from work; or a warm and cheerful person who would be all ears when you discuss your day, and be your rock when your boss gives you a tough day?

This doesn’t only apply to men; women can and are capable of being equally superficial, if not more. We want others to be envious of us for having the most good looking person by our side. Its how humans, irrespective of their gender, are programmed to be; we would rather be envied and approved of by the society than make ourselves happy by choosing someone who makes us happy. But are those people whose opinions and approval you give a damn about going to be there to warm your bed or lend you support when times get rough? No, its going to be the person you choose to be with. Don’t let go of what could be the most beautiful relationship of your life for something that may or may not be.

The Dream Embedded in Reality

The pent up emotions flowed in the form of words.

What other outlet did she have?

The dream she had witnessed a few nights ago was just that, a dream;

It could never be translated into reality.

It had been so beautiful,

Like everything in the world was so right.

He had come to her in her dreams.

Everything had been so perfect.

He had healed all her wounds,

Every touch of his felt like the healing balm that soothed her soul.

She felt renewed, revived, replenished.

They had looked at each other for hours to no end;

Each knowing exactly what the other was thinking.

It had always been that way between them,

Neither had needed words to express their deepest feelings.

They were in complete sync, fully attuned to each other’s minds.

In the dream that night, they were united in body and soul,

Both bare of all inhibitions,

Lost to the world,

Touching, feeling, kissing; two starved souls fulfilling one another.

With each stroke they inched closer to the ultimate release,

The perfect rhythm, in complete abandon,

Each wanting to please the other, pulling at no stops.

In the end the world shattered in the most heavenly way possible

It felt bittersweet; they lay besides each other.

Oh she remembered it so vividly, the dream searing into her conscious mind.

But like all good things the dream came to an end, she woke.

Reality struck like a cruel blow.

If only she could fall asleep again and be lost in his arms.

That was not to be.

A dream was all it was, and a dream was all it would ever be.

Blank

Many a times she felt the urge to write, but no words came to her. She kept staring at the blank sheet of paper waiting to be filled, but her mind mirrored the blankness of the paper. Writing helped her relieve the anger and pain she felt, kept it all at bay for a while; but how can you write when you don’t know what you wanna write about?

She wondered often what would make her feel better. Revenge was too easy; she knew a million ways in which she could avenge all that he had put her through. He would be finished by the time she was through with him; a mere shell of a man. But that would be too easy. Also, it was beneath her. She wanted closure, but seeking closure in the misery of the person who had hurt her wasn’t her style. She had tried talking sense into him, tried to make him understand the effect his words and actions had on her; but he had behaved like a man-boy, refusing to take responsibility, instead resorting to downright denial.

There was no point in dwelling on the past. It only brought about more pain, dragging her into the depths of darkness from where she found it impossible to escape. When the heart is ripped apart, it’s a death of its own kind, where the body is alive but the soul is long gone. How long would it last, this existence like that of a corpse?

It seemed futile sometimes, all this hurt for what? For someone who is long gone, for someone who didn’t deserve her? She knew her worth, yes, she did. Every time she had looked at him she had seen ‘perfect’ written all over him. What she had failed to see was the fine print: waste of time.

All it took…

All it took was one dialogue that she came across in a TV show; “The reason it fucked me up so much is because that was the one thing I was so sure and so wrong about at the same time.” And that was her undoing. Everything unraveled. Like a series of falling dominoes  Her calm, composure, all that she had attained so slowly fell away chip by chip, slowly at first, going faster, like a floodgate had opened, and she just couldn’t stop it.

She realized that that was the answer to all the questions that she had asked, that kept her awake at night in endless agony, what had gone wrong? It hadn’t been the first time that she had lost someone so near and dear to her, wouldn’t be the last. Then why had it affected her so much? It was because she has been so sure that he was the one person who would never hurt her in an irreversible manner, foolishly her trust ran that deep; only, fate and time proved her wrong in equal measure.

The tears came unbidden, retracing their favourite path down her cheeks. ‘Cry me a river’ was the phrase most lovers used, well, she had cried an ocean. She knew it was never going to be enough. When all it took was one random dialogue out of a TV show to unravel her, it was going to be a long time before she felt sane again. All she had were stolen moments of tranquility she found in the bottom of a glass of scotch or rum. She was anyway too broke to be a full-time alcoholic. 

One step forward, and back two

A distant memory crossed her mind, softly, like the whisper of a child; her breath stilled, she was instantly transported back into the past. The memories always came back without any warning; sometimes like a gentle breeze that soothes you on a summer night, and sometimes like a curse straight from hell. She couldn't remember what had caused the memory to strike so suddenly, or why it had come to haunt her, but it did.

Things had been much better lately. The smoldering rage that burned her very soul was abating; the tears didn’t come so frequently anymore. Inner peace was slowly being restored; the nights weren’t so much of an agony anymore. She had learnt that time doesn't really heal the wounds; it just diminishes the intensity of the response that the wounds once brought about. Time brings acceptance that a small part of you will always remain broken beyond repair; that that battered part of you will always belong to the person who caused the pain. Love comes with a price, oh and the price she had paid.

 The cracks in her soul were visible in the depths of her eyes. Some days weren't so bad, she felt fine, renewed even. And just when she thought she was getting better, that she could laugh a laugh that was reflected in her eyes, the memories erupted from the woodwork and proved her wrong. Then the tears would flow and her breath would come in gasps, as she tried to keep her world from crumbling yet again.

The damage had been done. She knew it was never going to be the same. She just hoped that someday she could lock up all that hurt into a corner in her heart and not let it affect her the way it did now; but she knew that today was not the day. The memories lurked in the distant abyss of her mind, like the dark clouds that warned you of a fast approaching storm. She managed to keep them at bay, but for how long could she continue to do so? Every day was an effort to get by. It was like taking one step forward into the future, and two steps back into the past. She kept walking. She had to. What was the alternative?

50 Shades of ‘What the hell is wrong with people?’

Since the last 3 to 4 months there has been a lot of hue and cry over the 50 Shades trilogy. No matter which bookstore I went to, online or otherwise, these books were on the bestseller list at each and every one of them. I decided to read them for myself and be my own judge despite the positive reviews. All I knew before I began reading the books was that they were supposed to be a love story, also involving some steamy, kinky and not-so-conventional sex escapades.

However, all I experienced when I finished reading the trilogy was 50 Shades of painful disappointment. The trilogy claims to be a “romantic love story” but that’s as far from the truth as night is from the day.

Sure, the author has pretty much convinced every possible person on planet earth (considering the “glowing reviews” you will find online), but this isn’t the ‘make your soul cry’ kinda love story. Its merely a blown out of proportion version of a Mills and Boons novel, with a 20-something out of bounds billionaire with a shady past who falls in love with a naïve and oh-so-different college girl.  Somehow the author has managed to drag this concept over three big fat books. Sigh!

The characters are run of the mill; the male protagonist being drop dead gorgeous, with Greek God-like looks and a troubled childhood which he tries to deal with by engaging in kinky, abusive sex. Way to go, hot shot billionaire! Sigmund Freud would have a field day with this nut job! The female protagonist is portrayed to be a meek (not), innocent (not), different from regular college chicks (NOT) sort of girl. The story line is lacking of a story of any kind.

At various stages of reading this book you will be forced to question yourself that what makes them click as a couple? Is it love? You will doubt it as the only connection you will see between the two is lust. The repeated “Oh you are so beautiful” and “I love you so much” hold little or no convection, and won’t make your heart flutter.

Since the time I could read, I have been am adherent reader of romantic novels, classic, historical and modern. So trust me when I say that this book isn’t going to stir your heart or make you say, “Damn! Will I ever find this kinda love?” Read this trilogy if you are looking for some new tricks to implement in bed. If you are looking for a touching love story that will “Possess you and stay with you long after you have finished reading the books”, STAY AWAY! This book is not going to touch you deep inside, at least not your heart *wink*.

In journalism school we had been taught that nothing sells quicker than sex and scandal, and thus, this worthless waste of valuable pages is budding proof of this very fact.

Trust in tatters

She looks into her eyes the mirror and sees broken brown shards staring back at her. When did that happen? When had these laughing, twinkling eyes turn into bottomless pools of pain and regret? Was it the result of loving too much, or loving the wrong person?

She wanted to let it all out, but the words failed her. How do you four long years’ worth of emotions in words? How do you explain the bits of your torn soul seeping out of you? There were so many questions; only questions, but no answers.

She asked the questions over and over again, but to no avail. How do you become completely disposable to someone when that person swore that you were the best thing that ever happened to him? She had seen her friends tread down that path of broken hearts and shattered dreams, of emotions taken for granted; but she always said to herself’ “No, he is different, he would never hurt me that way; he would never knowingly take advantage of my vulnerability or break my trust.”

Alas, she was so very wrong. Trust was broken. Tears were spilt. Pain ripped through her soul in a way that it would probably never mend. Her spirit lay shattered. The smiles no longer reach the eyes. The laughs no longer emerge from the heart. Something froze within her, never to be thawed. She learnt a painful yet important lesson: When you love someone 100%, you give that person the power to destroy you 100%.

When you find that person whom your soul connects with, and that person wrongs you and leaves, it can take away your ability to ever trust someone again. It can take away your faith in the almighty force.

No amount of grieving, no amount of remorse can ever heal the wounds that lay embedded in her heart. Days pass, bringing no peace, no calm, no relief. She goes on with her life, her trust in tatters.

What is the point?

Soon the 26^th of November is gonna arrive yet again, and it will be three years since that fateful day that added another wound to the already crumbling “Spirit of Mumbai”.  Kasab is safely in prison, yes, but besides that what have we achieved in the last three years in the name of justice? Kasab is merely a pawn in the entire scenario, what about the perpetrators of the attacks?

Whenever there has been a terrorist attack post 26/11, there has been a huge hue and cry about the fact that Kasab’s sentence has not yet been carried out. However, we fail to concentrate on the fact that the conspirers of the attack have not yet been punished. Quoting Wikipedia “US officials believed that the Inter-Services Intelligence (I.S.I.) officers provided support to Lashkar-e-Taiba militants who carried out the attacks.” Then why has there not been much done about it? Alright, the Pakistani government claims that they have “Formally charged several accused, including LeT operations’ commander Zaki ur Rehman Lakhvi” but can we ever be sure about that?

What have we really done about it? Yeah, sure, we have held candle light vigils and all that, but besides that what? Every time there is a blast or an attack, we are shocked at first, quickly calling and texting our near and dear ones, making sure they are okay; the shock turns to relief that everyone we care for is fine; then the relief turns to sympathy for the victims; which the next morning turns to indifference as we continue to ogle at news channels tut-ing in the luxury of out homes. We think, “Yeah, that was unfortunate,” but what beyond that?

Sine the past few days Kasab has been “Trending” on Twitter. He has been the butt of countless jokes, snide remarks and angry comments, and that’s about that. We content ourselves with venting our anger on social networking sites or on the couch before the TV set and leave it at that.

Let’s look beyond Kasab for a while, at one of our criminal celebrities (we have way too many of them anyway) Manu Sharma. Our outstanding courts allow a lifer to have fun at his brother’s wedding! Brilliant na? However it doesn’t stop there. The courts give him a minor warning, asking him to keep away from discotheques. This is how the judge spoke (in my head) “Come on Manu, please don’t visit discotheques this time. Don’t make it so easy for us, choose a more creative location for murder. Maybe someone at the wedding?” Now I am relieved that if some day if I get a lifer, I may still be entitled to attend my grandchild’s wedding (I will be pretty influential by then, don’t worry). Phew!

Back to Kasab, don’t worry guys, this dude is not going to the gallows, not really. Yep, he is sentenced and everything, but its not going to be carried out. At least not anytime soon. That is because he is now a different kinda pawn. Now every time we have a tiff with the Pakistani government, we are just going to wave Kasab before their eyes like a placard saying, “You did agree that this is your man, right?” It’s a filthy political game, and who knows when that is gonna end.

My point is that don’t sweat it, if on the 26^th of November this year you turn on your TV and watch interviews on news channels where the high and mighty of the nation are debating about how soon Kasab is going to be (or should be) hung, then just switch the channel. Because there is no point. 

Proud to be an Indian? You kidding me?

Indians are perceived to be one of the most God-fearing, cultured, and harmless race on planet earth. We boast of having gained independence through dedicated non-violence. India is obviously a diverse nation, with a variety of residents living in ‘mutual tolerance’. However, this notion of a cultured, God-fearing, and relatively non-violent race is limited to what the world thinks of us. What we Indians really are is something entirely different. Let me cite a few examples.

Once when I was crossing a one way lane on foot, a man on his scooty entered the lane from the no entry side of the lane, almost ran over me, and instead apologizing he instead had the audacity to yell at me for having stood in his way!

A few days ago when the elevator of the building where I stay was left open on the 3^rd floor, and when I complained about it to the third floor, instead of accepting their negligence, they gave me a “I don’t give four fucks about that elevator or the rest of the residents” look.

These instances don’t even begin to impress upon the fact that this nation is going to the dogs. These are just trivial everyday crap that most of us deal with all the time. Let’s instead talk about the shocking and heart wrenching murder of Keenan Santos and Ruben Fernandes that happened in plain view of a number a bystanders. This incident is a blatant proof of how the proverb ‘Each man for himself’ has become the mantra of every Indian. How can a couple of rowdies stab two men on a street within plain site of a large group of people who are merely watching and not even remotely responding to the scenario unfolding before their eyes? Please explain to me, how that is possible?

I was brought up in Bahrain and have only spent 4 years in India. I had studied Indian history back in school, and trust me I was in love with my country and its glorious past, don’t get me wrong, I still am. Its just the people whom I cannot stand anymore. Most of the time we are bothered with what’s happening in another person’s life, looking for something to gossip or laugh about, instead of paying attention to what we are doing with our own life.

Is there any hope for improvement? Hell yeah, provided we get their heads out of their asses and think in the direction of collective good for a change. If we think of collective good, and give up on the ‘I, me, mine’ mentality, then maybe things can change. However honestly, right now, i am on the verge of saying, "My Indian nationality is up for sale, any takers?" #Seriously.

Are we the ‘Bloodhounds’?

We are all well aware of the recent unrest in the Arab world. We are aware because the media from various nations fearlessly strove to report the happenings and the proceedings from those countries. Journalists from top-notch news channels and newspapers were present there for the same. However, the question that arises is: were they fair? Or have we been lead to believe that the situation was worst than what was actually happening there?

In the Gulf Daily News (GDN), a local English daily from Bahrain, there was an article on how the international media was blowing the issue out of proportion, referring to them as ‘media bloodhounds.’ Here is an extract from that very article, “Turn on the TV and you would think we were in the middle of a civil war! I have news for you - we are not. The only thing I see and hear coming out of the international Press are one-sided reports, authored by self-centered journalists being spoon-fed a diatribe of anti-government propaganda from those seeking to profit from instability and chaos.”

It has always been accepted as a universal fact that the media does exaggerate, to make the news more interesting. What is the role of the media? To provide blatant facts, or to add ‘masala’ to the news item so that the viewership is enhanced?

During the 26/11 attack, the media had thoughtlessly broadcasted the positioning of the terrorists, which in turn did more harm than good. Was it necessary for the viewers to know where exactly the terrorists are bunking at the Taj hotel? Wasn’t this done just to hook people to their TV sets? 

We as the media need to be more responsible. We need to think of the repercussions of our actions, instead of just concentrating on the ratings our channels and papers receive. Only then can we strive to achieve a balance in what is actually happening and how we report it.

Maa Exchange!

Had a free evening at my hands yesterday, as classes were cancelled and so got home early. Grabbed my dinner and settled before my TV set surfing channels, when the latest reality show caught my eye! Maa Exchange aired on Sony TV. For those who have missed the promos, Maa Exchange is the Indianised version of the foreign reality show 'Wife Swap', where the home makers of two different homes are interchanged. The show started off well with sweet goodbyes from family members to their respective mommies, and then the drama began.

Maa exchange seems like the extension of the re-known Big Boss, where the contestants have to reside with a set of people whom they have probably never met before. I personally found it very brash and meaningless. I mean, why force a family to the rules of a new Mommy for four days when as soon the old Mommy returns things are going to go back to what they had been before? It seems like a family counselling programme, but with a catch: the psychiatrist has to live with her patients for a period of 8 days.

Lets see how far things go for this kind of a reality show!

To let go and to reach out

Every now and then in our life, we meet people who turn out to be very important to us, so much so that we feel like life would be impossible to live any further without their continuous presence in it. This person can be a best friend, or someone a little more special than that. This person begins to feel like the whole and sole of our existence. We tend to feel, “This is it! This is going to last forever! How lucky I am!”. This does last for a while, and if we are truly lucky, maybe forever. However, more often than not, that person feels the need to leave. “Things seem to be moving too fast”, “I can’t handle it”, “I need space”, “we need to take a break”, these are the few standard parting lines.

All of the above had happened to me. The person whom I cared for more than myself had left. That person might return, might not. The questions that arose in my mind were typical: “Why me? Did I do something wrong? How did I not see this coming? Did I ignore the signs? What will I do now?”. My life was in dumps. Every day, I would wake up in the hope of that person making a contact with me. I would plaster a happy-go-lucky smile on my face, slowly dying from within. I resorted to the only anti-depressant I had at hand- my books.

This mode of self-pity and despair lasted for a while until I had this epiphany: The reason a person leaves is because the role that person was suppose to play in your life is over. You do not need that person in your life anymore. God has made that decision for you. Every person who enters your life has a role, a very specific one at that, to play in your life. And once that is done, that person ahs to leave. Nothing you do can prevent that. Because it has already been decided by a larger Force.

The old has to go to make way for the new. Things have to change for a person to evolve. But we are so caught up in our comfort-zone that we become too much of a coward at the thought of leaving it. So we keep clinging to what we know as familiar, no matter how much of a fool we make out of ourselves by doing so. In the end, the more we cling, the more we are delaying the process of change, the farther we are pushing ourselves from what awaits us in the future.

As the old saying goes, “The reason we lose something wonderful is because something even better awaits us in the future”. It is upto us to let go of the past and reach out to the future. It will hurt, a lot, but when we find that “Something Better” it will all be worth it in the end!

Book review

The Zahir

Author: Paulo Coelho

Genre: Novel

Publisher: Harper Perennial (Eng. Trans.)

Publication year: 2005

Pages: 336 (Paperback)

Available at: Crossword

Rating: ***** (5/5)

What is obsession? What is love? Are they two sides of the same coin? Or, are they so different that the mention of the former may seem like an insult to the latter? This is the dilemma addressed in this book by Paulo Coelho.

Zahir, in Arabic, means visible, present, or incapable of going unnoticed. It is someone or something, which once we have come into contact with them or it, gradually occupies our every thought, until we can think of nothing else. This can be considered either a state of holiness, or of madness.

The Zahir revolves around the narrator, a bestselling novelist. He enjoys all the privileges that money and celebrity bring. His wife of ten years, Esther, is a war correspondent who, despite of her professional success, and freedom from the conventional constrains of marriage, is facing an existential crisis. When she disappears with a friend, Mikhail, who may or may not be her lover, the police question the narrator.  He is suspected of foul play by the authorities and the press of having a role to play in the inexplicable disappearance of his wife from their Paris home. Was Esther kidnapped, killed or did she simply abandon a marriage that left her unfulfilled? 

The narrator does not have any answers, but he has many questions of his own.

He continues to try to keep the same life as when his wife was still around. But becomes preoccupied with finding out why she left. The insanity continues and becomes an obsession making even the most lighthearted tasks unfathomable. He reminds himself, of her support, which he at the time took for granted. She became the reason why he was now, a famous writer. In time he finds himself a girlfriend, whom loves him and hopes that perhaps one day, he will love her too. They become partners, supporting each other’s careers, but his fixation with The Zahir, becomes ever more intolerable.

Then one day Mikhail, the man with whom Esther was last seen, finds the narrator, and promises to take him to his wife. In his attempt to find a love lost, the narrator discovers something unexpected about himself.

A haunting and redemptive tale of love and marriage, The Zahir deals with the dark side of obsession and explores its potential of both fulfilling and destroying our dreams. It is a thoughtful meditation on faith, celebrity, marriage, love, and their relationship to freedom and creativity.

The Zahir teaches us that each of us without an exception has a Zahir. It is up to us what we make of it. It’s our choice whether to get obsessed and destroy our Zahir, or to live our life with our Zahir in the backdrop as something that we know belongs to us forever, and not to need a reassurance all the time.

A contemporary, all encompassing story that leads us through an inner and outer encounter with our worst enemy, ourselves.

Paulo Coelho is widely known as the master of human emotions. His books have affected a million people all over the world and changed their lives forever. His words have the power to get you thinking, make you laugh and cry in a span of moments. Love, loss, life, inspiration, dreams are the major themes of his books. They make you believe in the power of love, make you believe in yourself.

Some of my favorite extracts from The Zahir are stated bellow:

The day man allows true love to appear, those things that are well made will fall into confusion and will overturn everything we believe to br right and true. The world will become real when man learns how to love; until then we will live in the belief that we know what  love is, but will lack the courage to face it as it truly is.

It is so important to let things go. To release them. To cut lose. People need to understand that no one is playing with marked cards; sometimes we win, sometimes we lose. Don’t expect to get anything back, don’t expect any recognition for your efforts, don’t expect your genius to be discovered, or your love to be understood. Complete the circle. Not out of pride, inability, or arrogance, but simply because whatever it is no longer fits into your life. Close the door, change the record, clean the house, get rid of the dust. Stop being who you were and become who you are.

 

Rating: *Awful **Best avoided ***Average ****Good *****Speechless

Paid News: Myth or Reality?

The concept of paid news has been a hot controversial topic for the past decade. This practice has seeped into out media houses slowly and steadily, eating away at the basic principles of journalism. Before we get any further, let us understand what paid news is. Paid news can simply be stated as “The act of paying money to representatives of media companies, print or electronic, to gain favourable coverage so as to satisfy an ulterior motive”.

Now the million-dollar question remains: “Is paid news a myth or reality?”. Is it a myth, that has been fabricated to defame the sacred (wink!) media houses, or is it a fact as blatant as that of the sun rising from the east every morning? The concept of paid news has gone beyond the corruption of individual journalists and media houses. The duty of the press, which is to provide accurate information to the public, has been sidelined to make way for money thirsty journalists. By the end of this discussion, it will be proved beyond a shred of reasonable doubt that paid news is indeed a reality that the media houses have brought upon themselves.

 Earlier, it was a general error to think that the practice of paid news is merely confined to the Bollywood sections of the media. It was common knowledge that stars pay the media houses to gain publicity. It happens even today. Stars pay a mighty price to appear on the “Entertainment” section of the publication or news channel. What is pushed under the carpet is the fact that there is yet another class of “professionals” that resort to the phenomenon of paid news as a quick ladder to success. They are none other than our beloved Netas. They have undermined the very idea of free and fair elections, by paying their way into the media to display the kind of portrait they want to put forth to the public. It is a safe and fail-proof means of campaigning before the elections. This method of publicizing ensures the fact that they can show what they want to show the public. Slick!

The right to information has become yet another decoration on the Constitution of our nation. We have reached a state where we are informed of only what the elite class wants us to be informed. The duty of the press, which is to keep us up-to-date of the actual happenings in the nation, is up for grabs. So whom do we trust? What is the guarantee that the next piece of news item will be unbiased and not guided by commercial motivation? Whom do we look up to? Who is responsible for the rectification of this issue?

Oh yes, we have the Press council of India! But oops! That organization is nothing more than a tooth less tiger! All they are authorized to do is send letters to the concerned media houses which can be chucked into the waste bin before even the seal is torn opened.

Another interesting question arising from this issue is that, “Is monetary gain the only vested interest of the media houses in accepting paid news?” Can it not be that the media houses are feeding some underlying motive by indulging in this unscrupulous activity?

Let us take into account the latest greatest event hosted by out nation: the Common Wealth Games. It was a sensation that had gripped the nation like never before, not because it was an international event of a superior caliber, but because the endless juicy controversies that surrounded it. The controversies had been showcased in the last two months, much later than they actually took shape.  It has been reveal that a majority of the news channels, newspapers and magazines blatantly refused to carry anti-CWG stories before July 2010 because of the advertising carrot that CWG was offering to the media houses. The media was warming up to this racket until the CWG fell flat on its face.

Sometime in November last year, Mr Kalmadi received a proposal from a leading English newspaper (with the largest circulation in India) for positive coverage of the CWG. The entire deal was worth 12.19 crore. The newspaper wanted an “Official Newspaper” status.

As a part of its extensive coverage, the newspaper promised special features, seminars, CWG quiz, marathon in major cities and towns, etc. the proposal also subtly stated that the coverage will have “the potential to form public opinions at large”.

And then comes the catch. It says: “It is also expected that with the influence that the “Response” department has over the editorial, the OC can get neutral or positive coverage from now to the games”.

The only question that arises is: “Had Mr Kalmadi agreed to this proposal, would they still have gone ahead with the negative coverage that they did?”.

The Press Council on India submitted a pathetic report on paid news stating that self-regulation within the media houses is the best option to curb this problem. Well, reading the facts mentioned above and the document given bellow, we can figure by ourselves how much of “Self-regulation” had actually taken place or is going to take place. The media is playing the role of the brand ambassador to the politicians, film stars and anyone else, as long as a few “Paties” and “Khokhas” are willing to change hands.

 At any J School students are taught certain Principles that underlay the foundation of journalism. They play the role of guidelines to a journalist. These days though the trend seems to be something like this: “Study the Principles of Journalism at J School, mug them up, puke them into your answer sheets, but if some of it still remains in your system, then chuck it in the first bin you find on your way out of the J School”. Is the future of India media bound in the shackles of Paid News? Let’s wait and watch.

(PS: Bellow is the Proposal that Mr Kalmadi received from the leading news paper regarding the CWG)