The power of One

There are times when being a part of something really satisfies you.
Adds to your sense of self.
Makes that tiny lump in your throat feel large enough to choke the tears out of you.
For me one of those moments was last night when I realized that I was apart of one of the few mediums that wasn’t trying to propogate someone’s agenda, set moral high ground.. merely demanding answers..

Answers to questions, every one asked of themselves, especially nonmaharastrain mumbaikars…

Why do I need anyone’s permission to stay in any part of India?
Am I a North Indian before I am an Indian?
Is Mumbai not as mine as yours?
Why does culture of Mumbai feel diluted to some, if we add some of our colour in it?
Why does anyone have to answer for their philanthropy?

‘I am Indian first’ – that was the statement we made, and proudly too.
But listening closely to Arnab’s debate on Newshour made my skin crawl as I heard the ‘gentleman’ from Maharastra Navnirman Sena say, “If I am in Maharastra, I’ll first be a Maharastrian. Outside Maharastra, I’m an Indian first.”

Maybe it was impolite or just plain rude, but the first thought that came to mind was – Sir no matter what you say you are, to me, with these words, you just sound like an opportunist.

It’s what we ‘North- Indians’ call ‘Mauka’-tarians. You change the tag you identify yourself with to fit the situation, which seems most opportune.

Don’t get me wrong, I too am very much the Mauka-tarian. When in Maharastra, I try and speak in the broken Marathi I learnt in my college days. While in heartland of UP, the bhojpuri twang peppers my accent in Hindi. That’s just a way of making people feel comfortable, by mirroring them – pschycology.

Whereas what these so called ‘North Indian haters’ (and I use the term lightly) are trying to do is divide and rule. And I say lightly because it is the politics of convenience, without the courage of conviction, used to incite and create publicity meant to sustain till the next elections

The point is the Marathi Manush see through it?

Or have they too like Raj forgotten, one of the basic rules of the Indian etiquette –Atithi Devo Bhav. Especially since they do consider Amitabh Bachchan, who has lived in Mumbai for 50 odd years, an athithi , that is.

That reminds me of the discussion I had with a colleague who knows the ‘fire starter’ in question told me a couple of days ago. He said,“ At some function late last year, this man told me , watch me in action in 2008, I’ll be on every TV channel and every newspaper.”

Well, if that is indeed thru, then the year has just begun, and the elections are another year away, till then I guess Big B may need to employ an extra person to collect the debris from furtive, media savvy, political mileage gaining, half-heartedly thrown glass bottles. (As another guest on the Newshour mentioned - a news channel was tipped off about the incident that took place early Monday morning at the Bachchan residence.)

What gets my goat – is that I work in the business, have seen murky politics from the ringside and yet , this infuriates me. Perhaps my desensitisation is not complete but I am appalled how someone with no real credentials, can stand up, make jingoistic speech and get acknowledged for them. Raj Thackrey complains that Amitabh Bachchan has not set up a school in Mumbai instead has opted to do so in UP. Hmmm, so having uneducated girls in UP are alright – the state with least amount of literacy. Another insane Q then pops into my mind, if it incenses Raj so much why not set up another school and name it after Ash himself, now wouldn’t that be some tit-for–tat!

But of course, that entail hard work, money and getting out of his comfy armchair for Mr. Raj Thackrey. So, presumably he’ll continuing sitting in his kurshi, after another one of his mindless speeches and then let the politics and the goons for hire, play the drama out for him.

I know my tirade made me digress but coming back to the point, 04.02.08, will be a date that has left an imprint in my mind. It was the day we stood up, took a stand and tried, repeatedly so, to bridge the divide and bring two warring factions together, face- to face, get them to at least say (although a politician’s word is like the rabbit in the magician’s hat… no one can ever trace where it came from and where it went), that they will stop the politics of divide. And we came close, then a hair’s breadth away from , what would have been an ackward kiss and make up, the politicking got better of us as the politicians chose to continue nit-picking.

I’m writing this and posting it on a public forum. I may not have a high wall like big B’s to stop the brickbats or bottles from coming or as defenceless as the taxiwala, the glass of whose windscreen went not only through his taxi but also his livelihood. But there are moments when you say enough and after his actions and statements post Mumbai molestations... I chose to stand up and say ENOUGH!

I am mad. Am I mad? I want to be mad!

'Madness is the inability to communicate your ideas. It's as if you were in a foreign country , able to see and understand everything around you but incapable of explaining what you need to knpw or of being held, because you dont understand the language that they speak there. we've all felt thatway at one time or another and therefore in one way or another we are all mad.' Paulo Coelho - Veronika wants to die.If you look at it sanely from the intelligence you have gathered over the numerous years of your existance any one you has said soem thing slightly non conformist in this conformist society is considered mad. Plato, Aristotle, Galileo.. to some degree, Einstein, even Jesus Christ , in their day and age were all heretics or mad. Only because they looked at things differently, thought differently, however, today we encourage herd mentality.Today life is filled with so many amenities, comforts and the race to attain these that we dont have time to free think. Either we are stuck in attaining the luxurious nirvana, paid for salvation or making ends meet. We dont have time to paint, create or even think. The renaissance period had it's share of Picasso, Leonardo and Rembrandt and we have our share of trojan and the love worm . the hackers and virus creators are perhaps the painters of today. They are in their own way artists - are they not?

This Fish needs a Bicycle!

I think the theory that, all you need to get a date is another date, as theorized by the eminent Carrie Bradshaw in sex in the city is right. No sooner have I had a healthy flirty session with one man do four others pop up. Flirting in itself, as an art, is getting more and more obscure by the day. And others are taking its place.It is common place today, even in the work place, to see some women tearing their hair out when one of their ‘friends with benefits’ find the one. In fact, just last week, I watched in amazement when a colleague (lets just call her A ) announced her presence in our room by exclaiming, “he’s taken now, and he was my plan B, where am I going to get another Fuck Buddy now.” Before my eyes could pop out of their sockets, do the customary Indian eye rolling, she had vamoosed.One of the less tartier elements of my work place commented that she not only knew the guy in question but also knew his better half. What the poor unsatisfied soul did not know was that he had a floozy on the side as well. “I think it’s hypocritical!” exclaimed the one with a bad case of sour grapes. Dearest SJ she’d had the hots for A’s so called fuck buddy for the longest time and now couldn’t digest the fact.But before I digress any further coming back to the point – every fish needs a bicycle, sometimes not only to ride on but also be ridden with complete a-reverence.What our problem these days is the fact that we can’t seem to find the right bicycle. Some have physical problems – too tall, too short and mind you I am not just talking about their height. Some have the Oedipus complex while others are content to hide behind the workaholic charade. On the other hand, the more increasingly common phenomenon is that the fish in question cant seem to settle for one bicycle. When you have one there are prospects of others in the pipeline. This is when things become messy, when you decide you want to take one to work, one to the parties and yet another one home as a Scooby snacks.

I think the theory that, all you need to get a date is another date, as theorized by the eminent Carrie Bradshaw in sex in the city is right. No sooner have I had a healthy flirty session with one man do four others pop up. Flirting in itself, as an art, is getting more and more obscure by the day. And others are taking its place.It is common place today, even in the work place, to see some women tearing their hair out when one of their ‘friends with benefits’ find the one. In fact, just last week, I watched in amazement when a colleague (lets just call her A ) announced her presence in our room by exclaiming, “he’s taken now, and he was my plan B, where am I going to get another Fuck Buddy now.” Before my eyes could pop out of their sockets, do the customary Indian eye rolling, she had vamoosed.One of the less tartier elements of my work place commented that she not only knew the guy in question but also knew his better half. What the poor unsatisfied soul did not know was that he had a floozy on the side as well. “I think it’s hypocritical!” exclaimed the one with a bad case of sour grapes. Dearest SJ she’d had the hots for A’s so called fuck buddy for the longest time and now couldn’t digest the fact.But before I digress any further coming back to the point – every fish needs a bicycle, sometimes not only to ride on but also be ridden with complete a-reverence.What our problem these days is the fact that we can’t seem to find the right bicycle. Some have physical problems – too tall, too short and mind you I am not just talking about their height. Some have the Oedipus complex while others are content to hide behind the workaholic charade. On the other hand, the more increasingly common phenomenon is that the fish in question cant seem to settle for one bicycle. When you have one there are prospects of others in the pipeline. This is when things become messy, when you decide you want to take one to work, one to the parties and yet another one home as a Scooby snacks.

Write or Right?

BUKOWSKI ON WRITING
if it doesn't come bursting out of you in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of yourheart and your mind and your mouth and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours staring at your computer screenor hunched over your typewriter searching for words,
don't do it.if you're doing it for money or fame,don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want women in your bed,don't do it.
if you have to sit there and rewrite it again and again,don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody else,forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of you,
then wait patiently.if it never does roar out of you,do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife or your girlfriend or your boyfriend or your parents or to anybody at all,you're not ready.
don't be like so many writers,don't be like so many thousands of people who call themselves writers,don't be dull and boring and pretentious,don't be consumed with self-love.
the libraries of the world have yawned themselves to sleep over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket,unless being still would drive you to madness or suicide or murder, don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is burning your gut,don't do it.
when it is truly time,and if you have been chosen,it will do it by itself and it will keep on doing it until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.

The above words were penned by Charles Bukowski