What Cheek!

I just started reading my first Saul Bellow novel "The
Adventures of Augie March". The very first page got me
hooked... and thinking:
"Everybody knows there is no fineness or accuracy of
suppression; If you hold down one thing you hold down the
adjoining."
This was it... this said it all ... in a weird way it answered
why India wasn't doing as well as it should... the cricket
team... the Indian writers... the actors... Something is
missing.. and I realized maybe.. just maybe this was it. If there is
no fineness and accuracy of suppression, I guess there is no
fineness or accuracy of repression either. Too many little dictators holding too many things down.

India became hugely famous for it's spicy food in the
twentieth century and in this century it is becoming dreadfully popular for it's moral policing! And why shouldn't the 'true' Indians be concerned? After all in their skewed dumb head , every white guy out there is crazed with the desire to rob India of her tradition and cultural heritage!

Take for example Richard Gere... what cheek! Kissing an Indian
woman.... on the cheek!!! Forget that he has been spreading
awareness about AIDS in the country... helping the Tibetans ...
promoting peace ... running charities... investing his time and
money... more than I can say for the people who are so quick to
judge him! When was the last time these self-appointed
guardians of Indian culture took any steps towards spreading
awareness about AIDS. Oh! how could I forget, AIDS is a 'phoren'
syndrome too... after all how can it exist in India, no one
ever heard of sex in India, children are gifts from the Gods, remember!
Here is this white guy... in India... loves Indian food,
converted to Buddhism... works hard to help the people... a
respected citizen in his country... a super achiever by any
standard...a good human being... kind enough to devote his time,
energy and money in our country and we thank him by dragging
him to court for kissing a woman (who loved it) on her
cheek. And did I mention that they were at a public function.It is not as if a scared defenseless damsel was being harassed in a crowded bus by an uncouth,uneducated, unconscionable goon. A humiliating experience every woman who has had to board a crowded bus has been through.

That reminds me of another recent incident involving Mandira Bedi,
the first Indian lady cricket commentator in a male dominated
profession. Recently, she had to apologize on national
television for being proud of her religion. Wanting to
show the world her feelings towards her religion she
got a religious symbol tattooed on her lovely shoulder. The
bigots were up in arms. After all they own the
religion. Whoever heard of such an absurd concept as "the freedom of expression!" Thousands of people have the same symbol tattooed on their hands, forearms and biceps. What was sacrilegious was that a beautiful, successful, confident woman
got it tattooed on her shoulder. The shoulder is impure, the hand is pure! How twisted!

Mandira, wanting to make amends and leave the whole tattoo
incident behind... wore a lovely sari ( a sari, surely no one's
sentiments could be hurt by her wearing a sari, in tune with
the Indian culture and tradition) for the Final Day of the
Cricket World Cup. Designed by a famous Indian
designer, it had flags of all the participating nations on
it. But the designer and Mandira both underestimated the 'Big Brother's
sensitivity (to successful, confident women?) "THE BIG
BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU".

How dare she wear Indian colors and disgrace the country.She should have known better. They made her apologize for being insensitive and unpatriotic.
Poor thing! She had to go and change her dress in the middle of the show.
The reason? The Indian flag was too close to her feet. (The feet are impure too).
And the poor soul.. apologized again... several times... on national television!

A lil too biased, are we?
A lil too proud?
A lil too fragile?
Looking for a lil ego massage are we?

Another incident making the news is about bookshops being ransacked and all copies of a certain book being torched after the Supreme Court lifted a ban on the book
'Shivaji : A Hindu King In Islamic India". Like the title suggests the book is
about Shivaji, an Indian ruler, written by James Laine. The ugly American, again. Who gave him the right to write about an Indian king. How dare he write something so sacrilegious even if he was translating an old Sanskrit book. What was he supposed to do if he has to translate a passage which
dealt with Shivaji's paternity? Lose the truth in translation to satisfy the
'moron police' ... Ooops... moral police?

But how dare he write about an Indian king is what 'the reverent ones' wanted to know . Why does he not stick to 'gora' kings. This American must be stopped lest he runs amuck and shakes the foundation of the mighty Indian culture.
What 'the prudes' are most upset about is that Laine brings
out a widely known fact about Shiva ji's paternity which the the 'restorers of history' want suppressed. The self appointed 'moral committee' came on TV to tell Laine to stay away from India and "not write 'such type of stuff ' ever again". Another ordered his disciples to "burn Laine's book."
What are they really scared of?

Why is it that most good Indian writers and artists prefer to live abroad? Is it
because creativity in India is killed before it blossoms. Is it because they feel stifled
here? Are we suffocating our Youth? Are we killing creativity?
How is it that youngsters of Indian origin outside India are doing so
much better? Are Indians in India not as smart?! That couldn't be it. Well, one thing I darn well know ... I better keep my head covered with a duppatta, not look anyone in the eye, make good grades, take up a job and never ever state what I feel about anything INDIAN and I'll do just fine in the largest democracy in the world.

Here something of what America is at least trying to teach it's citizens about America and freedom and democracy. This is what sums up democracy for me. In a powerful scene from the movie, "The American President"... where the President of the United States is making a speech after he has been targeted by the opposing party for dating a woman who was once seen in a protest rally burning the American flag sums up what freedom of expression means. he says, "You want free speech? Let's see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who's standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours. You want to claim this land as the land of the free? Then the symbol of your country can't just be a flag; the symbol also has to be one of its
citizens exercising his right to burn that flag in protest. Show me that, defend that, celebrate that in your classrooms. Then, you can stand up and sing about the "land of the free".

My Beautiful Green Eyed Friend

"How have you been?" said Tania, my beautiful green-eyed friend. She was just clearing up the table after breakfast. The kids were in school and the baby was napping. She had wanted to talk to me about something.
"Pretty good... and how are you... and that hot-shot husband of yours? " I said winking at her and helping her with the dishes. She looked tired.
"Hey... Why don't I do the dishes and you sit down over here and fill me in on all the gossip!" I said pulling out a dining chair for her.
She sat down with a sigh and poured herself the leftover orange juice from a sparkling crystal jug.
" I have no gossip... unless... 'Sammy pooped 20 times yesterday', accounts for gossip!" she said, her green-eyes twinkling... which reminded me of the time just seven years ago, when she had got selected as the 'new face' of the a cosmetic company. She had just got the news and had forgotten to brush her hair and at six in the morning was knocking on my door...excited, it seemed, more about the little adventure of waking me up at six than her contract. Disheveled, but eyes full of fun... hope... life ... excitement.

"Uhmm.... no it doesn't!", I said with a wry smile. "Tell me... how did your interview at the advertising firm go?" I asked her.

"Oh that! ... Samyra; Rajiv thinks this isn't probably the best time for me to take up a job... with his yearly evaluation coming up and with the kids being so young and all...."

"So we decided that I should start again in a few years time" she said studying the dining table closely.

"hmmm... " I said drying the dishes.

"Come and sit down, I didn't call you here to do my dishes!"

"How are things with you... I am very worried about you Samyra", she asked searching my face for answers. She could look at you like she was looking into your soul and whatever you said, didn't matter.

"I am fine... I'll be better!" I said smiling back at her.

"I think you are in denial...You need to grow up...Honey, life isn't like we thought it was... it's not so simple...why don't you try for that job in advertising... it is still open you know and it pays so well...and maybe you'll meet someone there... you know you aren't getting any younger... "

"Tania... I love what I do"

"Sure you do... but why don't you try out something else... it's a great job you know... great benefits... you could still act in your spare time...acting really isn't something you can bank on... it works out for very few people...."

"And it will work out for me Tania."... I said quietly.

"Why are you being so tough? Samyra, grow up! Look at me Samyra... I have three wonderful children...a husband...I know he isn't Richard Gere... but he is good man... Remember, I wanted to be a dancer... perform all over the world... those are great fun dreams to have as a teen... kept us busy... But I am finally settled in life.. and I wish you would just grow up a little...It was okay as a childhood dream to want to become a super star! ...To wait for Prince Charming... I can't believe you turned down that wonderful chartered accountant from Punjab... stop being so naive girl... life is no fairy tale!"

"And I refuse to let it become a nightmare Tania! "

"A nightmare?" Her lovely green eyes froze with some strange thought.

" I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I gave up on the one thing that I want to do and if I started treating it like my last priority ... and expecting to make it... I would be fooling myself."

"I think it is about time you started fixing your life, Samyra".

"Tania...But it ain't even broken!" I said... almost near tears... she just didn't get me anymore.

"Oh honey, don't cry... I am just trying to help you." said Tania lovingly.

Children of Men

I kept my commitment of the last 3 years of watching The Academy Awards, live! Now, if you are in India, you will realise that doing so isn't as simple as it sounds.... especially if you are one of those people who never bought into the "early to bed, early to rise... " deal.
Here, I sat in front of the TV all groggy-eyed in my Pajamas, with a cup of coffee abated breath as the live 'from the red carpet' coverage came on...and all the demi-gods and goddesses in their designers walked into the Kodak Studio.
I am always very struck by the class in Hollywood.
They were announcing the nominees for "Best Cinematography" , I think... and one of the movies nominated this year was "Children of Men".
The title just stuck in my head... my initial negative and not very witty comment was "Who else has children!??"
And then a small voice in my head told me to shut up. So shut up I did, but how does one become stop the stream of consciousness?!
"I can't be brain dead... can I? " Yes, I sometimes admonished the small voice.
Now, I haven't seen the movie and I have no idea what it's about. But here's what was going on in my head as the winner was trying to finish his acceptance speech before the music came on to shut him up.
It's probably about children whose parents were successful. Probably, they are talking about the kids of movie stars or presidents or big CEO's? And that got me thinking.
Who is successful? Who can we really say are Men of our generation?
Is it the person with the biggest car/house/jet/boat?
Is it the person with the maximum number of 'designers' in his closet?
Is it the person who has the maximum press coverage in a year?

Of course, all these actors are successful... they are wonderful, talented individuals who believe in what they do.
But then, do you have to be rich and famous and fabulous to be considered successful?

"Does that mean my Grandpa isn't successful in his life?" He is neither rich nor famous yet he is wonderful.

Now, my grandpa is 86 years old and he was an only child who lost his parents very early in life. He took up a job and retired from it forty two years later. Most of his education was on the job. he married one of the prettiest women I know.... had 3 lovely kids... equipped all three, with a good education... and retired many many many years ago.
I would call him a success... not in the way it's made out to be in the world ... He has no fancy cars and no Armani suits!
But here's what I know he has, he has tremendous faith in people and in God and in goodness.
He has this great sense of humour and a need to help everyone. He has decency and lives by a set of principles. He is contented.
And he has been able to pass all this onto his children.
This man with no money, no fame, no high tech gadgets, no so-called achievement (he never topped school or anything).... is he not a hero? A man if there was one!
So who are the real celebrities?

Everyone has children but it is the 'children of men' that really count.

Now, men to me would be people (not famous celebrity sorts) but yes,
extra-ordinary people, who had the courage to live their lives by their principles.
Men of character, men who dared to say " this is what I stand for"...
And who in their lifetime or after, could pass on some of this magic potion of integrity, honesty, decency to another.
People who helped shape another generation. People who showed their children through example how important being a decent, honest, helpful, genuine, god-fearing human being is.


Children who were lucky enough to have the sense to realise just how special these parents are.

It's not the money, it's not the gadgets, it's not about grades, it's not about a good job.... success is about shaping a new, brighter, more wonderful tomorrow in your own little way.

Window Shopping

One of the best designers in town had just unveiled the Christmas-New Year window display. And there it was, the most beautiful, perfect dress in the world. Oh, I want that one! she thought. I could wear it for New Years Eve and I'd look soooo good! I wish, oh God please, let it not be more than Rs. 1500. But if I spend all my money on the dress, what shoes will I wear with it. Nothing I own matches with this beauty! And what about my hair. I need to get a hair cut and a facial done too! So, lets say, I don't get a hair-cut, that would save me some. But then ... would it be such a good idea to buy this beautiful dress and wear it with my shabby, frizzy, unmanageable hair?! And if I wear boots with it... nah.. that wont do! You cant wear boots with this evening gown kinda dress! Oh, my life is so tough...I miss the days I didn't have to think twice before spending... "may be that's why you have no money now!" Whats the deal with this voice in my head! I mean do u not like me? For once lemme stop being conscientious and just spend.. I am going to be bankrupt anyway... so why not live it up one more time?" Oh stop being such a pessimist, you talk like this is going to be your last day and then you are going to live like the dead! "You'll bounce back, you've done it before, remember when you had no money and no skills and no real useful education? From that, you went to 2 cars, the best cell-phone, designer clothes, perfumes, lingerie, exorbitant chocolates, lavish parties. Why wont you do it now? It's just a matter of time and putting in the hard work. You'll be back with a bang...!" So should I not buy this dress? But what will everyone think? I can actually hear the women whispering to each other,
"Whats with her? How can people wear the same dress as last year. I always knew, she knew nothing about fashion! Look how last year that is! That 'look' was out ages ago!"
Should I really care what those dumb, fashion victims say? I always dressed for my self...also for the society, actually... I know I will still be the best dressed. But then I guess everyone feels that way about themselves. But isn't what you think and know about yourself the most important thing? Or is it?
" Don't let what people say affect you", she said out loud.
But how can I not! Isn't it important for me to keep up my social image? should I let them know that I have no idea where the money for my next months rent will come from?... and should they know that I don't even have enough money to wrap up my business and move! But if I let people know ... what about my credibility... Who will extend credit to me if they know...I know for a fact that people want their money back!
So does that mean I should go in and buy this dress and put up that act of being rich and happy and secure? I know I wont really be happy if I buy it. The guilt will set in as soon as I pay the money. I have bills to pay...then again... I have a party to go to!
Who says money doesn't help? Is surely helps make decisions simpler! saves time! brings some happiness too.. maybe not deep satisfying happiness, the kind you get from creating something from nothing, but surely the superficial, materialistic kind of happiness... and who says that they don't want that kind of happiness? The kind you feel, when you walk back home with loads and loads of shopping bags with those huge designer labels on them? The kind of happiness you get (maybe, not right) but when you see all the women looking at your dress enviously... the kind of happiness you get when you sign your name on the debit card slip with a Cartier pen?
And just then, her cell- phone rang and she slowly moved away from that show window , promising herself that dress soon.... very soon.

Right or Wrong? Yes or No? Black or White?
Is everything as simple as that?
She woke up to the sound of her mother's groaning. "Ma, what's wrong" , she said, turning on the night light. On the bed lay a shrivelled woman; she looked up at her daughter and smiled. She still has the most dazzling smile, she thought. Even as she lay there, covered by blankets, her left side completely paralysed, there was a grace about her. A light still shone in her eyes. "Is that hope I detect in her eyes?" , thought Palak.
"Here Ma, this will help relieve you of the pain", handing her a white tablet and a glass of luke warm water from the thermos which lay permantly on her mother's right bed-side table along with an assortment of medicines and syrups.
"Lie down now and try and sleep, it's good for you", and palak settled down on a chair, her legs propped up on her mother's bed and a copy of the latest Reader's Digest. She could see herself in the mirror on the opposite wall.
She quite liked what she saw. A little bit of concealor would hide those dark circles perfectly! she thought and a sigh escaped her. She remebered back in college, her lovely long, thick black hair, which she would keep tied loosely with a clip. She had been "Miss Fresher" in college and also " The Most Likely to Succeed" when she left college armed with a degree in Public Relations.
Her first job had been with a car-sales agency and that is where she had met Raj. He was her boss there, his dad owned the showroom. He was charming, polite and not bad looking. He had helped Palak understand the policies and the procedures of the agency. He really did help me in those days, when papa had that accident, and ma was at home alone, he stayed with pa in the hospital and also donated blood, she thought. I guess he too wasnt strong enough to marry a girl with no dowry, a sick mother and a brother who just wouldnt accept any responsibiity. She knew she should get married. She wanted to. But then who will take care of ma? There was a time, she had been naive enough to believe that when she married, her husband would insist that they stayed at her place and with her mother. She knew better now. Her friends thought she should get married. "You need to think about your future. What are you going to do? You are 32 years old, with no career. Being good is one thing and being foolish another. You brother has enough money, he's married and settled, he should look after her, she's his mother too, you know!",they had said. It wasnt so simple. Her bhabhi didnt want an old woman in her house. It didnt matter to her that this old woman had brought up the father of her two beautiful children. The kids didnt want an old woman in the house to tell them what to do. It didnt matter to them that this old woman, their grandma had so lovingly every year knitted pullovers for them. Back then she could. Nothing had gone the way she had planned ... she sighed and a tear rolled down her cheek.
Palak could hear the birds outside, the sun would be out soon. She looked at her reflection in the mirror carefully "Nothing had gone the way she had planned." and she smiled.
With this thought, she got up and went to make herself a cup of coffee.
A brand new day.. with it's gorgeous shades of gray was here.