Are our gods deaf?

I am hardly religious but at the same time neither I am an atheist. I believe in god – but the association of god with religion, traditions and superstitions is something I am really very wary of.

Okay, with this clarification out of the way now, let me proceed with what has been really pissing me off for some time now.

Blaring music on loud speakers at all odd hours of the day and night is very much a part of our being, in India. We consider it our birth right and our obligatory duty to broadcast our happiness, sorrow, loyalties, anything and everything at “high volume”. From the 'baraats' in the wedding season in the crowded residential streets to the DJ 'dandiya' nights in the neighborhood apartments, the first birthday celebration of the neighbor’s kid next door, and the 'jagaratas' and 'satsangs' in the community spaces – noise pollution is all pervasive. Cacophony has always been synonymous with celebration.

Most of us thanked god for small mercies when the Supreme Court of India passed the landmark judgment that took baby steps toward reducing or rather containing the clamor that the so called members of the various civilized and spiritual societies were creating. You can read the details here.

As any other rule, this too has not seen a complete and absolute implementation but at least in the National Capital territory and region, we have had some respite from the menace of “loud speakers”.

Cut to Chennai – T Nagar, to be precise – 5 in the morning - for more than a month now I continue to be rudely woken up by chants of 'sabiramalai' and 'aiyappa' coming from some small temple across the road.

Though I usually crib more than an average human being, I swear to god I really don’t mind the occasional ear-splitting music on a film star’s birthday, or a politician’s death anniversary or a festival - Silence can be deafening too – I need some din around to maintain my sanity levels (however low anybody might think those to be :p).

However, the last month and a half have been terrible and intolerable. In the name of God to disrupt an entire neighborhood is ostentatious.

Are our gods hard of hearing? Are they deaf? My god isn’t and I am sure yours is not too.

I would still make some concession had it been a 'kirtan' kind of a setup where people get together and recite prayers to their gods – you know at least they were devoted enough to do that – But no, here somebody is indecent enough to put recorded songs with tunes bordering on film music on a loud speaker before the sun even decides to rise – this is not a means to connect with god but a form of community entertainment.

As an obvious reaction, I asked my FIL to complain – register a formal police complaint – after all, this is an infringement of what is laid out in the rule book. Haa! Only if our judicial system was good enough - My FIL told me that they all have tried and given up – each time they get the same response – “Why do you want to get into all this, you are educated – why do you want to go against these fanatics who will do anything in the name of religion – your complaint will spark off a class and caste war (this will make a lot of sense to people who are aware of the caste politics in Tamil Nadu); just close your windows, put cotton in your ears and ignore – why should you get your hands dirty”.

And so we, the citizens of the largest democracy in the world, put cotton wool in our ears and shut our windows and eyes, lock our houses and tongues, and continue to live, seething inside … and blogging on cyber space in a vain attempt to compensate for the actions we never take and the compromises we make.

Of lives snuffed out at dawn…

Yet another 4th or 5th page newspaper story: “Ashamed of failure, 12-year old in Mumbai hangs himself”.

Sushant Patil is a perfect example of how today’s reality affects and victimizes children and teenagers in particular, denying them the blissful innocence, the carefree laughter, and the state of absolute happiness, which was once synonymous with childhood and youth. According to latest statistics, suicide is one of the three largest causes of death among the youth worldwide.

There are multiple reasons and sources that come together to form a complex network of issues surrounding the youngsters today.
The academic pressure, made worse by dad who wants you to get into IIT, by mom who dreams that you’ll a doctor, by the uncle who boasts about the salary his IIM son has been offered, by the aunt who is worried about what her daughter eats at MIT, and by the neighbor who is looking for an marriage alliance for his NRI son who by the way owns a “bungalow” in NYC.

Unfortunately, it is the bane of the middle class to uphold values of excellent educational background, financial stability, and social propriety coupled with the need to rise up the social ladder. So, in the name of doing the best for their children, your dad will take a bank loan, and your mom will pawn the family jewels so that you can study and finally achieve the dreams they once hoped for. And here is where the problem starts; the kids today have the burden of being successful come what may.

I wouldn’t blame parents alone – switch on the idiot box and every soap and advertisement talks about upward mobility. There’s a world out there to be bought - and there is no place for losers. The social pressure – the hottest pub in town and the coolest hang out zone, the newest car, the world class apartment, the funkiest gadget, the latest movie – all require you have your wallet loaded. Love is an expensive proposition too!

Failing an exam is hardly a failure, psychologists claim! Yes, but try explaining that to the kids and the parents of the kids who have not been able to “pass” the nursery admission interview at the best “international” school in the city!

My heart cringes in fear and hopelessness how problems of population, demand supply imbalance, inflation, media penetration, Internet boom, poverty, consumerism, the rat race to get at the top are compounding our lives. We all are spending our lives working towards a better tomorrow without realizing that tomorrow we will end up again sweating it out for a better day after!

I have met so many friends, colleagues, seniors, juniors, who identify with the following lyrics of a song from the Aamir Khan super hit – 3 Idiots. In the name of progress, we are manufacturing generations of people who are disgruntled, frustrated from within and very unhappy for the good times they lost on and the magical enchantment of childhood that they never experienced…

...

Give me some sunshine

Give me some rain

Give me another chance

I wanna grow up once again

…

Another year, another decade!

Welcome 2010!

Year beginnings are special – you have the opportunity (supposedly) to turn over a new leaf, start new ventures, and ofcourse make the infamous New Year resolutions.

It is miraculous how we human beings attach momentous significance to what could have been “just-another-day”, and is nothing but a fleeting moment in time.

No cynicism on the first day of the year, I rebuke myself. Apologies.

I start again; year beginnings are special. They offer you the much needed solace that there will be sunshine and hope and love, and things will change for the better, and if nothing works, this year will thankfully end soon :). I am guilty as most others of making resolutions, and breaking them. This time around my list remains largely similar to last year’s, which is available here, so not repeating myself. Controlling the temptations of the palate and tucking the tummy in remain priority. I would add being more regular at sketching to the list as well…and I am done.

What is really special about 2010 is that it also marks the end of a decade, which has been interestingly called 00’s (pronounced as oh oh’s) by an illustrious tweeter. And since all print and television media are overdoing the movies of the decade, the celebrities of the decade and the other blah-blah nonsense, I thought I’d put together my own list of Top 10 events, trends, milestones that have affected and moulded the person that happens to be me!

I remember making a diary entry on the eve of Jan 1st 2000, when the world was obsessed over the start of the millennium - I wish I had a snapshot of that, but this post is an ode to that!

And here I go (not necessarily in chronological order, most overlap);

I I grew up!
I know 10 years is a long time and you might just say high time; But sweet 16 sounded so much better. School and college years were fun. I miss the endless rides on my white Kinetic Honda with a helmet on (back then not only was I the only girl but the only person to wear a helmet in NCR – it was so embarrassing – thanks dad!), the DTC bus rides to college and everywhere else in the sweltering heat and the freezing temperatures, the endless giggles, and most importantly the friendships that last you your lifetime!

II I realized the double X chromosome makes me a potential victim.

Growing up also meant understanding the fact that in a place like Delhi you will be molested on public transport, ogled at by men your dad’s age, offered shady lifts by shadier strangers and faced with wearied parents concerned at the daily harassment and rape cases in the newspapers.

Thankfully, I also understood the need to fight back, to raise your voice, to hit them where it hurts the most, to be independent and mentally strong, and finally the need to realize you belong to the fairer sex and not the weaker one!

III Terrorism was not at the border – it had reached home.

9/11, 26/11, and the many bombings in Delhi, Hyderabad, and other cities over the past 10 years made terrorism a frightening recognizable reality that was not somewhere out there at the border, but closer home. The urgency to reach home after college as the borders were sealed post the parliament attack, the frantic calls to parents out on festive shopping after watching news on bomb blasts in Delhi on diwali eve, the list goes on.

We will never know what it is to live without fear.

IV Anytime, anywhere availability: Hello Cell Phones!

I need not write much on this. What started as a luxury status symbol, is now an every person’s necessity. I wonder how parents managed in earlier years without the option of keeping a tab of their kids’ whereabouts, or how friends found each other in a crowded mall, how lovers lived without smsing each other on the free plan and the million dollar question what did the now-telemarketers do for a living?

V The Corporate whirligig beckoned.

Life institutionalizes each one of us. Mine is no different a story. Five and a half years and still going on – I don’t mind the green bucks after all!

VI My cutie younger brother grew up too!

The house was a sadder place, the TV remote the least attractive, the computer not half as inviting, and the phone chatter hardly exciting without the constant interruption– Priyank moved out of town to join a college, and I became a lonely sibling :(.

VII Love happened...and the big fat Indian wedding followed.

…and the rest, as they say is history :p. Love you, Vish!

VIII 25 year of togetherness…

Mom and dad make the most beautiful and ageless couple ever – many many more loving anniversaries to come, touch wood!

IX Of the travelling tales…

I really enjoy visiting new places and doing a lot of sightseeing (and shopping) – the last 10 years have seen me doing a lot of travels – the short family vacations at Goa, Mumbai, Bangalore, Mysore, Nainital, Almora; the loving getaways at Phuket, Bangkok, San Francisco, Michigan, Memphis; the long stints combining work and pleasure at LA and Chicago; it has undoubtedly been a wonderful decade and I hope to do a lot more travelling these coming years too!

X The Internet boom and Social Networking

My first email ID was iamyuvika@rediffmail.com (don’t ask me why), which I checked once a week at the local Internet café for 20 rupees an hour. Life’s changed since then. I check mail 150 times a day on broadband connection, I am on most social networking sites, I blog, and as Vish puts it “I have unnecessarily unleashed myself on the web.”

So be it, darling, I am loving it!

AVATAR – My Take

With all the hype that AVATAR 3D has created, it wasn’t surprising that Vish and I were more than eager to catch up with this latest James Cameroon offering.

AVATAR surpasses almost all sci-fi, apocalyptic and epic war movies of our times in its sheer cinematographic brilliance and technical excellence. The detailed landscaping of the fictional planet of Pandora and the panning of the camera as the avatar of Jake Sully explores the dangerously rich and marvelously magnificent flora and fauna of the world of the Na’vis, delivers a powerful impact, which is wonderfully enhanced with the 3-D effect, thus offering a rare and most-engaging visual experience, especially in a “decent-movie deprived” year that 2009 has been.

Having said all this, I would stop at a 3.75 on 5 for AVATAR. The movie remains wanting of a more original, never-seen-before storyline. The Na’vis and their traditions would remind most of us Indians of the folklore we have grown up on – the potent supremacy of the souls of our ancestors that continue to watch over us, guide us and bless us; the belief that every living object is connected to each other, almost in a supernatural kind of a way; the disassociation of the body with the soul or the spirit; the blind faith in rituals and the superstitions – an extended Star Trek version of our indigenous Jataka tales and stories from the Panchatantra.

The novelty of the phantasmal Pandorian world begins to wear off post the half-time popcorn break, and what resumes is a sluggishly paced war of epic proportions between the humans and the na’vis. This conflict between unabashed and selfish scientific technology and the ecological balance of nature serves as an apt allegory for what us human beings in general, and men in particular (pardon the sexist slur, I really mean it though :)), have been guilty of since times immemorial – futile wars, frightening carbon print, mutilation of our natural resources, nuclear pileup, the greed to control and the need to have it all!

The ending is quite prolonged (I genuinely feel the movie could have been cut short by atleast 30 minutes), and clichéd, and predictable. The obvious side that is good and right and utopian wins and the humans are packed to where they belong … and ultimately the true “AVATAR” is born.

World War III of Love

Just when I was thinking that TV watching was getting mundane, and reality shows becoming increasingly monotonous if not totally incongruous, MTV comes to my rescue with Splitsvilla 3, “where love is war”.

Well, for the uninitiated, this show is not about love; it is about a bunch of desperate youngsters craving for publicity on national TV in the vain hope that one day they will be transformed into a la Nikhil Chinappa or Purab Kohli, or get a breakthrough in one of the numerous saas-bahu sagas, or land up a modeling assignment, or, stretching imagination a little too far, even get to star in a bollywood flick.

Couples and singles in a villa bonding, rebonding, fighting, clawing, abusing and getting dumped – that in a nutshell, Ladies and Gentlemen, is Splitsvilla for you.

But, my criticism of the show ends right here. This reality show offers mega entertainment value. I could hands down give it a top slot in the most asinine yet highly amusing TV serials of all times. It’s a complete package encapsulating the gamut of human emotions – there is looove (supposedly, yes), hatred, anger, jealousy, cat fights, crocodile tears, failed attempts to woo the king and queen and pride and vanity, and the list goes on.

The highlights are ofcourse the RSRs (road side romeos) with the funny and unmistakable North-Indian accents who, had it not been for MTV, would most likely meet you down the road and propose to you “descent fraandship”; The “babes” with little clothes and lesser common sense – crude and crass, yet the fake British accent – even when they speak in Hindi or Punjabi. (To be fair, there are some exceptions, but not noteworthy :)).

What entertains me? All this.

A hectic work week, a lazy Saturday, boring soaps, movies with too many ads – who would mind unintelligent humor at the cost of desperadoes who are at their “real” best, with the channel extracting every idiosyncrasy (I swear I don’t blame them one bit) to create an hour of hysterically laughable moments.

There is still sometime for this show to reach the “dumping zone”!

Consolatory?

The state of sorrow is much complex;

Vivid, vibrant, and enigmatic,

Multi-layered, acute and profound;

If anything can be absolute,

It is anguish, distress and sadness.

Joy pales in comparison;

A superficial moment captured

With an agitated vulnerability;

Happiness is ephemeral, destructible.

Despair is eternal;

It enhances the charm

Of the subject it affects;

Adding strength to the character,

Are the tears held back

And not the smiles flashed.

No poet can do justice

To human emotion if he

Does not talk of

Aching hearts and bruised souls.

There is more to talk about

Dead winters and falling leaves

Than green summers and delightful springs.

What worth is the life that has not

Cried for love, nor lost a dear possession;

If you have not fallen off a swing,

Or been hurt by someone near;

If you have not failed a test that mattered

Nor cherished an unfulfilled dream

You still have miles to go…

In a perverse way, that joy does not,

Sorrow completes our existence.

It consummates the cycle of life -

Satiating the deep gorges

That beatitude leaves behind…

After a long long time...

The last 4 to 6 weeks have been maddening. A jam-packed work schedule left very little time to indulge in aspects of Life that interest me and are very dear to me - apart from ofcourse documenting applications that die out on you when you need to validate interface specifications, writing down boring UNIX based installation commands, sitting in endless planning and review meetings, and getting nightmares about packaging help instructions :p.

Well, thankfully, gears are shifting back to normal and I am in the process of catching up with myself - blissfully long hours of sleep, culinary gratification, retail therapy, a rejuvenating massage - yes, the order has been precisely this so far. And finally, today I did some sketching as well. (*clapping hands in glee*)

For details on how the artist bug bit me sometime mid of this year, see the following blog posts:

• Just to put on record...
• Recording progress...
• Some relics from the past...

And here's presenting to you, after a very very long time, some determined Saturday morning work. Yes, yes, I am getting scratchy again - Practice, darling, practice I shall...

Is it December already?

For the last 25 years of my life, year-end has always been coincidental with a sharp dip in the mercury, freezing temperatures, multiple layers of warm clothing, bonfires and binging sprees.

At the risk of making this blog appear more like a weather column (my last post being on the rains ;)), I want to put on record how sorely I miss the winter season.

For god’s sake, it’s December and I am in my cottons and sleeveless and pastels and all things that are summer. 365 days of summer (and that’s more boring than the flick – 500 days of summer). On this one account Delhi scores a brownie point over Chennai – always. I do not get the feeling of movement towards the closure of the year.

Though I have spent all my winters before this year in Delhi, my most memorable chill has been during my brief stint in Chicago – nothing beats the beauty of the snow - Here’s the post.

I love waking up to the cold nip in the air, the frosted windows and breaths, the foggy mornings, the smoggy afternoons, the almost zero visibility on the roads, the all-day twilight, and then the dense darkness, the groundnuts sold on the roadside along with a halo of luminous gas lamps, the excuse to indulge in gastronomical treats such as gajar ka halwa, gulab jamuns, dry fruits, chikki, and what not so that you are warm, the comfort of the thick quilts, yet the instant dismissal of the sweaters and coats at a wedding even though it’s freakin’ cold coz you want to look your best (weather notwithstanding), the frost bites on your toes that force you to wear two layers of socks (I have the record of wearing three!!!), the once-in-a-while sunshine that brings a snug feeling only because it is winter…Winter is priceless…

Most people I have met prefer other seasons instead, and I in the true spirit of being me, always beg to disagree … the following quote is dedicated to them,

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.”

Wishing you all a happy and chilly year end…

Raindrops on roses...

The local headlines in Chennai, a city am still learning to get accustomed to and growing attached to, maybe bordering on even falling in love with, inspite of all the idiosyncrasies, read something like this:

"Heavy rains batter Chennai"; "Torrential rains flood the city"

My FIL had sounded high alert this Wednesday itself. Frankly, I hadn't been giving second thought to his warnings and words of caution simply because I was being chaperoned everyday to work and it didn't really matter how the weather was, second work pressure has been a little over the top!

However, our driver gave us the royal ditch by not turning up on both the days with the so called "torrential rains" - yesterday and today. On Friday, I was furious - I hated the auto ride, the flooded streets, the dirty wetness in the feet, the dripping umbrella, the messed up hair...

But today morning, when I got up to the sound of the turbulent downpour from the menacingly dark clouds above - spatting on us mortal with a venomous vengeance - I smiled and opened my bedroom window wide.

I lingered my gaze out for quite a long time - in that seemingly thunderous outburst was tranquility that is sometimes missing in the most silent of places, in the blurred scene there was clarity of thought.

I had to go to work but I couldn't bring myself to complain. I recalled the wonderful times when all us kids in the neighborhood used to get together and play frisbee in the rains; the joy of splashing in water is unmatched - believe me.

Anyways, I put on some good loud bollywood music (for those interested: Love aaj kal, New York and that stupid chiggy wiggy song ;)), and geared up for work. I had to take a rick, pick this colleague, who's more a friend, R, from her place and then travel to office.

When I reached the street next to my place, my first reaction was Oh my gawd!! There was almost knee-deep water on the roads, that were now transformed to rivers and u bet, I was so excited.

Water flooding our auto, R wading through the river to reach us, cars splashing water to right uptil your face - there was mayhem in the city and I was in the middle of it! I was mightily kicked - I mean c'mon, am I in a metro city or what? Though, this time I did not feel like cribbing about the infrastructure or rather the lack of it.

I always miss Kodak moments and was able to capture only one or two low resolution pics on my mobile camera. Posting one here.

The situation was much worse in the evening - it took us almost an hour to reach home and when I got off the auto I just didn't feel like opening up the umbrella - I hopped and skipped in the rain, savoring the wonderful feeling of the water drops falling on my cheeks and tiptoed home! It sounds crazy, but I feel like doing the frisbee thing or the aimless splashing around once again - there are only very few things that can salvage your soul from the chaotic depressing misery of everyday reality, and getting wet in the rain is one of them.

I love the person who wrote:

“Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain”

Happy rain dancing, everyone!

Mélange...

For as long as I can remember, when it comes to anything new - a new school, a new job, a new challenge, a new assignment, I have always been super excited. I love the charged electricity in the air around me, the anxious enthusiasm to get things done in the best possible manner, the emotional connection with the task at hand, the euphoric success at the end of it...

And one such rather small but nevertheless a mission in itself was the creation and release of the first organization-wide newsletter. A month of running across the entire floor, after-5 meetings in chilly conference rooms (only colleagues would understand this :)), fervent discussions on name, content, design, and every small detail, clash of ideas and preferences, consensus building and compromised choices - whoa - we, the team, are one determined lot and we sailed through...

November 6th saw a few of us suffering minor cardiac arrests and panic attacks as we hurdled across some last few hitches - but all's well that ends well - Mélange was on time, and yes everybody finds their baby perfect - so did we!

However, this is just the start of what will command continuous dedicated effort - maintaining the content, quality, and interest in a monthly newsletter is a daunting task.

Well begun is half done they say. Touch wood.