Oh Captain, my Captain!

Recently saw Captain America: The first Avenger. While the movie wasn't so great (even though am a sucker for superheroes), I rediscovered Chris Evans.

Is he a fine piece of eye candy or what? :)







Image courtesy: Google

Uttar Dakshin Purab Paschim

Well there's this major blog battle going on because a South Indian girl wrote some vitriolic stuff about Delhi boys here. The Madrasan, as she calls herself, has been lauded but has also been at the receiving end of major Delhiite outrage.

For my part, I think the girl is sharp but immature. Her post crossed the fine line between being humorously sarcastic and being genuinely nasty. And because generalisations are always crap. Just because she met an obnoxious Delhiite or two (or more) doesn't really mean that she can lambast the whole breed. Also I think that in this time and age, people would be more broadminded and judge (if they must) based on individuals not on communities or skin colour or gender.
Most reactionary posts that I read were not half as biting or offensive as hers was. Here's one which I particularly liked. Funny, witty and makes some good points. My only concession to the Madrasan would be that she has the 'right to write' what she wants to on her blog.

But her post shows that most people are still quite happy to play 'us vs. them' games. I guess its human nature to want divides. Being different is not always cool, sometimes its almost a crime. What else would explain all the communalism and regionalism that we still see these days. People want separate states (as if India didn't already have enough of them), people want to rename states to bring it closer to the regional name (a dumb idea if ever there was one!)...

I am a South Indian born and brought up in the Eastern part of the country and I speak fluent Bangla. Most people commend me for it and express their astonishment. By now, I have explained to several hundred Bengalis that the reason behind this is because I have been born and brought up in the East, because I have several close friends who are Bengali. Most don't seem quite convinced. In their eyes I'm still something of a rare bird. The other day a woman commented that "you people come from outside and learn to speak our language so well, I don't think I could do the same." I forebore to tell her that in today's age, when we have the freedom to travel and settle in any part of the world, to talk about 'coming from outside' is a moot point. I realised that telling her that my family had been settled in the East for a few generations had not made a difference to her. So I let her enjoy her blistering parochialism (or candour depending on which view you take). After all it takes all kinds.

I think its okay to be attached to a place, its historic grandeur, its warm people, its cute foibles and its appalling laziness. Its a bit like how one feels about friends - the funny one, the caring one, the full on masti one. One doesn't discriminate between friends basis community, religion or skin colour. I listen to generalizations but I react to individuals.
But sometimes I do feel that I am expected to align myself to a particular way of thinking and being. As if tying me down would give me more freedom. I resent this. I intend to set up a Non Aligned Movement of my own. And so I won't get into any discussion of Delhi boys and Southie gals...just tell me when you meet a nice PERSON.

Il Pensoroso

I find myself reliving the past more and more often these days. I think of the good times and the bad. I remember the simple pleasures and the complicated sorrows. I remember the heartwarming surprises, the lazy days in the winter sun, the chatter of familiar voices all around. I remember the trivial problems that seemed so huge. I remember the secret tears and unarticulated fears.

I don't know why but I feel quite a disconnect with the way of thinking these days. I am quite happily ensconced in the Chitrahaar era as far as my most of my beliefs go. I believe in the value of family, respecting elders, in true love, in wide-eyed innocence, in shyness as an acceptable virtue...in a simpler, less hedonistic way of living. I surf the net to connect to the world, I shop to feel good and I aim for a bigger house...but I remember a time during those long, familar power cuts when friends, family, neighbours sat around a communal aangan, drank endless cups of chai and chatted about everything under the sun to pass the time. Sometimes I participated, sometimes I just let their words wash over me like a river of warmth. Sometimes I read my storybooks by the light of a candle. Sometimes I made up poems and fairytales to tell the other kids.

I think of "multiverses" or alternate universes sometimes. It refers to the idea that there are multiple universes where maybe you also exist but your life has taken a different turn. You are not a mother of two kids settled in happy domesticity but a free-spirited adventurer. Or it could even be that time is not a contunuum as we perceive it, but an infinite series of parallel universes. This means that every moment that I have lived exists as a separate data point somewhere. I think that maybe, while I sit here typing out this post so full of yearning for days irretrievably gone by, there could be a world where that life still exists. Somewhwere in the vast mysteries of space and time.

After all think of how little we know about how the world was created. We run about our daily lives, one among the billions who inhabit a small rock suspended in what we call space. A space that has no beginning and no end. I find this incredibly awe-inspiring and scary. The idea that there is no beginning, no middle, no end to it all. How many other worlds are there? Is space really infinite? It boggles the mind to think of all these spheres spinning silently in eternity, sprouting life forms. Life forms who over aeons manage to complicate their life in incredible ways. We really forget or maybe we don't want to remember that at the end of it all, you are just an insignificant speck in the universe.

Yeah...its an effing trippy post.

Where is the love?

A riot caused by consumerism. Teenagers in one of the most developed cities in the world resorting to petty thieving and violence just for the heck of it. Grabbing unlawfully what they haven't earned simply because they want it. Using social media to alert and coordinate with each other. A government that is supposedly ready to face riots but is unable to tackle youngsters in its own backyard. Anarchy due to avarice.

In another hitherto peaceful nation, a gunman mows down students at a youth summer camp and bombs the government building exposing a new form of terror - homegrown right-wing militants who oppose multiculturalism.

Even as the world grapples to solve old problems new ones seem to crop up. Wonder what kind of a future are moving towards if globalisation, greater disposable incomes, increased connectivity to all corners of the world do not result in increased tolerance and respect.

Raindrops

Gray

Rainy, rainy day. Gray skies overhead. Water trickling down the windowpanes. Finally its cool enough to feel comfortable in your skin. For me, the first real monsoon day in Calcutta. That familiar difficulty in getting out of bed and getting dressed for work on a day that seduces you with its promise of cloud cocoons and lightning heartbeats. That familiar difficulty in getting a cab, waiting under a dripping umbrella with a laptop on my back watching the world rush by and feeling strangely distanced. I feel like I might keep waiting there forever – the rain flirting with me, getting into my shoes, breezing across my face, splashing onto my hands as I try to hail yet another cab.

I wonder what’s the worst that can happen if I just go back home and get into bed. I muse about the unfairness of a life where I run in an endless circle and let a marvellous monsoon pass me by.

New beginnings

Nothing is constant except change.

I am currently trying to get myself in a frame of mind where I am able to learn new things, about a new business. Have changed jobs after 6 years. Trying to gear up for whatever challenges may lie ahead. Strangely while everyone else seems to be view it as an occasion for going into raptures, I am a little more circumspect. The way I see it, I just gave up the comfort and security of a place where 'everybody knows your name' and am now about to dive into uncharted waters. It is exciting of course, challenging for sure. That is why I did it - I was tired of being complacent, of doing the same things everyday. But if you are a worrier like me, you will understand how I feel. And I have had a pretty bad experience with my first job itself. It was a campus placement into a reputed bank. Now I am amazed at how vulnerable and naive I was then. We all were. Out of 13 recruits, only 4 were left in the bank at the end of a year. So anyways, I am still somewhat troubled by the thought of the 4 months (yep!) that I spent in the bank. My benchmark is now 4 months. Fingers crossed.

My time in between jobs was spent in visiting relatives and friends. I hadn't seen this branch of my family for almost 8 years. It was such a thrill reconnecting with all of them. My cousins who I remembered as babies were now ready to give their board exams. The time I spent playing games with them was one of the highlights of my trip. I think its great to have children in the house. They keep you young. With their unbridled enthusiasm for life and their innocence.

Our ancestral home is near a village so I reconnected with a simpler way of living also. At one point, there was actually no network reception on my cellphone. But the doors of the house were thrown wide open and people kept streaming in the whole day. Somebody's uncle, brother, aunt, neighbour - they all dropped in to say hello and be introduced to me. It makes one wonder about the islands that we have become with our city bred ways. The whole area was surrounded by rubber plantations and my dad showed me the various plants and trees where he had played as a child. the food that we ate was plucked from the trees on the property. Nature at its purest. I remember standing near the front door putting my hand out to feel the rain splash on it while the trees whispered a melody all around me. Cool, fresh, green.

I went to stay with some friends after this in Bangalore. It was a short trip but one of the best I've had so far. We managed to pack in loads of adda sessions, lazing, shopping, sightseeing and of course, partying. The best memory would have to be when we were on this rooftop open air lounge called 13th Floor. The lights of UB city looming large amid the surrounding darkness, the cool breeze ready to whisk you away, the heady music, the soft chatter of the crowds and the company of good friends. Some moments are enough to last you for a long while.

We were having this discussion one day about what our vocation is, what is it that we want to 'do' in life. People who know what they are passionate about, what they want to become, are lucky - musicians, designers, even doctors or teachers. I think my calling in life possibly is to just chill with friends! That's the only thing I seem to be passionate about doing. And reading. Or rather having books to read. I returned home with 10 books after a 6 day trip.

And so, I sit here thinking about how soon time flies. I was just a fresher the other day and now I am a veteran, I was just the youngest in my family and now am an aunt, there I was waiting to vote when I turned 18 and here I am into my third decade. So cheers to new beginnings - the only way to live!