My first film festival

Out of sheer thrill i might make attending a film festival sound like travelling to space. Truthfully speaking, i am very excited about the whole experience. The first of anything does leave an impact...(not necessarily positive).
I bought a pass to the Bangalore film festival and let myself in into a beautiful and colorful world throbbing with myriad emotions. Every day, for some days, I found myself in a new place... a Hungarian home, a French station, a Korean school or maybe a poor Iranian home... In bits and pieces I lived the lives of multiple people - an Iranian wife desperate to bear a child; a Russian teenager content with her simple and mundane life in a forlorn land; a depressed Turkish woman trying to find security and comfort in her psychologist, a Korean teacher fighting a losing battle for justice; an aging and fatally-ill French woman falling in love with a man one-third her age; a gritty East German woman fighting for her place in a politically-charged Germany; a timid and abused French wife running away from home to find herself; the priest living and dying his faith; a Korean woman enduring all forms of abuse in a male-worshipping society...and more...
And then, the spectacle was over and i got back to the black and white world of Prohance and Teamwork...

The boy and the tiger

Life throws certain moments at us that make us realize our weak stature.
A day ago, I read about a tiger attack in a zoo and clicked on the link out of curiosity. The image I saw sent shivers down my spine -- A helpless teenager cowering few inches from a tiger's face. That image has given me sleepless moments and sad thoughts. I have not had the courage to look at the video nor have I dared to read further about the incident. It arouses emotions similar to trying to understand death. After my dad passed away, for some years, I used to get frustrated at not being able to understand and accept death. Even now, the confusion persists but acceptance of the inevitable has seeped in. I feel I am that boy facing the tiger and my heart beats fast. I feel so angry that a young life was lost so horribly. No thoughts have the power to convince me about the ways of life.

What the heck is the media doing?

The morning after the historic result in election 2014 I eagerly opened the newspaper to lap up everything it had to offer. I was keen to see how the media had covered (or uncovered) the whole spectacle. What I saw left me disillusioned and angry. Our media is so blatantly communal. And to imagine that they allege some political parties to be communal is confounding. I see nothing substantial written about the issues that matter. Everywhere, there are articles, reports and quotes on what the election results mean to hindus... to muslims... to the minority... to the majority... How many muslim MPs won or how many lost; percent of muslim voters... so much stats about insignificant details. Not just insignificant, but disturbing details which are actually very communal. Politicians have for ages fed and fattened on communal and regional feelings and media is proving to be no better. Why give communal angle to everything? Why keep rubbing it in? 

The art of deception

Magic shows were such fun, till I grew older and got disenchanted... And now, weirdly, magic shows leave me irritated. I could not understand this strong irrational dislike for magic when I usually like anything that involves talent, creativity and skill. And I understand that magic has loads of all of these. So what was it?
After some pondering I found this explanation - maybe I had had enough of being fooled. Deception is such an indelible part of our lives. Do we really need a magic show to further that?

Is there a dearth of magicians in this world? Have they not been beguiling us, fooling us, deceiving us with their bag of tricks since centuries? We have always been vulnerable to dazzle. And tricksters have used this vulnerability to their advantage. They trick us with religions, institutions(social, economic, political...), morals, ethics...such a make-believe world they have created for us. And, we are so charmed...we go about following their dictats, dazed and hypnotized. Can we ever snap out of it? We have godmen bestowing us hope -- an end to all our miseries. We have politicians promising us peace and prosperity. We have social institutions like the family offering us love and security.
And the magic never wears off... 

The Secular Debate

It's election time! And most of us are not able to resist the temptation to indulge in a bit of political discussion. And a talk on Indian politics invariably ends up becoming a debate on secularism. 

I get a little perplexed when I hear only BJP being branded communal. Are the other so-called ‘secular’ parties less communal? in fact, they are more so. 
The policy of appeasement that is followed by most parties towards minorities has only led to increased communalism in the country. These parties exploit the minority communities as vote banks and use them by manipulating their emotions to meet their own ends. By overlooking certain grave issues, these parties dig the grave for India and mankind. Does secularism mean tolerating wrongs? 

A wrong cannot be overlooked just because you fear being labelled communal. In India, many suffer a pseudo-secular syndrome. 

When will our politicians, political parties,  media, other systems and the common man learn to treat everyone equal?

People cannot forget Gujarat riots but they conveniently forget the Godhra train massacre. Why do people have selective amnesia? It’s true that an act of violence has to be condemned but why is this condemnation selective? Why are certain things never spoken about? Why is it that many Indians prefer to act blind and refuse to call a spade a spade? 

All do wrong -- irrespective of the community. What we need is a uniform policy to deal with these. Appeasement has to stop. Justice has to prevail. 

Is being blind and mute the only way to be secular?

Who do I vote for?

I do not seek miracles. Is access to good food, quality education, and hygienic living conditions for all a Utopian desire? Isn't basic respect for human rights and individual dignity a necessity? Shouldn't every person, irrespective of gender, religion, caste, or class, have equal access to rights and opportunities? And all this need not necessarily come with ‘development’. In other words, more skyscrapers, IT parks, or malls are not the solution. Development entails access to a certain way of life for all – good education, healthcare, and equal opportunities, among other basic human necessities. In a truly developed state every human life is valued and gets the required support to live as a free human being. 
Now, how can I play a part in ensuring this? Who do I bring to power? Which party can promise me a state of equality and growth for all?
Unfortunately, this question can only lead to disappointment. What do you hope or expect for a nation of people which prioritizes construction of temples, churches or mosques over toilets, schools and homes. What do you do when you are only given options that do not meet your requirements; get disillusioned and shy away from the system?
There are stereotyped perceptions created by the media and the so-called ‘thinking’ interpreters of everything. If you are secular you can’t like BJP. If you are against corruption, you are with AAP. If you are so-called secular and think AAP is ineffective, you go with Congress. The rest of the parties are mostly region-based (in other words caste-based). These are the choices a regular Indian has.
I do not worry about the consequences of the choice I make. I worry about the lack of consequences of any choice I make. After all, aren't all choices exactly the same; only disguised as different entities to fool us, yet again?

The little birdies

Under a tree
Lay a blown away nest
With its treasure chest
Of little birdies three

The three little orphans
The three uninvited guests
Filled up the gaps
In our hearts and nest

To give them their right to fly
To give them their tiny space in sky
We fought against nature
We forgot our little stature

They were fed; they were christened
They were told about our mission
Our chests filled with pride
They were ready for their maiden flight

The flight never took off

A few proud young feathers remained

Duke the dog was satisfied

Looked grateful for the meal supplied

To put us at our place

Nature showed her ugly face

We lost the fight

She proved her might

Floating down memories

I float like a dry leaf downwards through my memories 
There...my dad waits for me in his large army raincoat. I stretch my hand for those coins that would get me my favorite chikki. 
...He is on his armchair on a lazy Sunday smoking endlessly. 
...I feign sleep so that Dad carries me to bed. 
...Angry dad breaks bro's volleyball, TT rackets, cricket bat and wickets
...Dad in uniform comes home with litchis
...Dad and mom argue 
...Dad beats bro
...Dad takes out even the last paisa to buy me the purple dress i want
...Dad is playing cards with his friends...he is so loud and happy
...Dad is ice cold in the ambulance 

...My brother is crying over his lost stamp collection( torn to shreds by a very angry dad)
...Bro is teaching me to catch a cork ball
...Bro & I are playing marbles, french cricket, carrom and cards 
...Bro is winning prizes at school
...Bro looks so innocent with a tikka on his forhead
...Bro & I share whispered secrets in the dark inside mosquito-nets
...Bro and I  play in the water tank in our bathroom
...Bro tells me fascinating stories about science, nature and everything he holds dear 
...Bro looks sad and helpless
...Bro gets me chandni dress
...Bro can't breathe...
...Bro is hurt...bro is angry...
...Lost childhood ...lost togetherness...

I see huge Ashoka trees in Barrackpore and the gomanga mango tree in our ancestral home...
I see my mom...why is she so angry ...I taste her mysore pak, ice cream and fish curry... 
...Those scooter rides, and little and big fights...
I see my achchachan and ammamma waiting for my dad, mom, bro and my arrival on a dew-soaked dark early morning. My achchachan's stories and ammamma's hugs...
And all our dogs and cats. I can see Chigo's tail bobbing out of the paddy field. I  run and play with him and then feel the stillness in his lifeless body. 
Lucy, rosy and pussy -- our cats in chennai
Dad and mom talking about us...why are they so unhappy with us...
I float down and rest buried under earth

Back to Bangalore

I have been asking myself what did I bring back from the faraway land of freedom -- Goa. What did those 60 hours of moving away from home to the land of fun do for me? I know there's always something to gain but the ability to feel it, experience it, gauge it, and narrate it is getting blunted.
Maybe, making a list of the impressions the trip to Goa, the place and the journey back home had on my mind could help me come out of this blank state:

• Long overnight journeys in small cramped vehicles can be very uncomfortable
• The happiness friends' company gives is the most unadulterated form of joy
• High expectations always precede a journey
• The value of banter is highly underestimated
• The search for clean washrooms in India is a futile endeavor
• I love having access to black tea
• You can neither get away from nor get rid of the corrupt Indian systems like police, RTO
• Money owns beauty
• Sea impresses, whether near or far
• My lungs are close to retirement
• Prawns are the best
• A good host can leave a lasting impression
• Ostracizing can be a justified punishment
• There are people who appreciate wine more than me
• Is Goa a part of India?
• Women today are really bold and beautiful
• Good times = drinking and smoking = not true
• Good life can be good
• There are moments of disconnect with everyone and everything
• Europeans are beautiful
• Sea instills excitement and awe
• My inherent fear screws my life
• Sea can make you its slave
• Clumsy dancing and self-conscious attempts are ok
• Daring is often born out of necessity
• Shacks lure you with their simple sophistication and promise of liberation
• Lights (glowing candles and lamps on the seashore) and sounds (music, the beat of the waves) are forever parts of my life
• The ubiquitous Whites leave you craving for their carefree lives
• The flow of booze and money is never-ending
• A short visit is like an appetizer; it leaves you hungry for more
• Leaving a place is easier than leaving friends
• Going home can be sad
• All good things end too soon
• The mindset changes with the place
• Attitude makes Goa; Any place can be Goa

Why did he jump into the sea?

Why did he jump into the sea? I would never know. Was it a very normal and simple act for him? Again, I would never know.

Eleven of us were on a yacht miles off the coast of Goa high on the heady mix of sea, wind, beer, music and exhilaration. We were lapping up the beauty and the might of the vastness all around us. There was much merriment on the deck with everyone letting one's hair down in the unbound atmosphere. Amidst all the singing and dancing, suddenly the captain's cap flew off and fell in the ocean. All went oh! the cap! and before we knew, one of the crew members on the yacht jumped into the sea. He had no life jacket on; there were no lifeguards on the yacht and he didn't look like a trained guy too. Yet he jumped.
Was it part of his job? I don't think any job role entails that. It looked more like an act of desperation -- putting one's life at risk to survive. If your boss' cap falls, you pick it up irrespective of the given situation. Maybe I am hyping it up. Maybe it's just as simple as we stopping a vehicle on the road to pick something that fell off. Maybe for him sea is no more than land.
However, I will never forget the incident nor the look on that man's face when he was in the water and when he got back on the yacht. He looked shaken and I don't know why, but I felt that this was not something he had ever done before.
Sometimes, in fact many a time, a man's life can be worth much less than a cap.

Stocktaking

We know that a new year is not the beginning of anything new but the continuation of the old with a new awareness. Yet this consciousness about the passing of time is a necessary action - a short pause to take stock. It's vital to acknowledge and salute our biggest enemy – Time.

Twelve months, seven days, 24 hours are our ways of checking time. But the reins are always with time. No number of checks or scales can let us control time. Time is the ultimate winner and the winner takes it all...

My dear countrymen

A guy stops his bike in the middle of the road, walks to the car behind him and uses the foulest expletives at the guy behind the wheel. People look on, no one tries to stop this guy and actually, they seem to enjoy the whole scene.
On another occasion, a guy blocks the road with his auto on the pretext of some religious event. A motorist who questions this auto guy, is abused orally and physically, and as expected, no one comes to his rescue.
My fellow countrymen choose to be non-interfering and non-judgmental on selective occasions. The same people are so opinionated and judgmental when it comes to issues related to individuality and personal choices. These are the same people who decide who should wear what, who should love whom, who has the right to be happy.....

My reflection

When the reflection scares you, the war with the self begins...
Is that me?Is that you? Do you own  me or do I own you?
Do I even know you?