Tuesday, July 22, 2014

No,I Shall Not Enjoy Raping You





“Why are women… so much more interesting to men than men are to women”? Wondered Virginia Woolf. 

That cannot be true, is not true. Indeed women are interesting to men like men are interesting to women. And the difference is only in the selection process of whom to be interested in. Women choose power and security, while men can be less discriminating. Perhaps they are not tethered to the attributes women get enamoured about.  Can you, a woman, deny that you are not interested in men and do not hallucinate about a Casanova, about the macho quintessential man – the Lawrence of Arabia? I can see your disapproving grimace, the moue. You are offended and outraged by what you may call my crudity. You do often see candour as outrageous. Don’t you?

But I resent your accusations and I ‘m also embarrassed and peeved by your comment that I’m lewd and that I disrobe you, rape you all the while without feeling your skin, your flesh. You say all men are hideous and licentious. You are right in feeling that I’m a rapist even if I have not violated your body by touch. Yes you are right I disrobe you; my eyes can scan the deepest secrets of your pulchritude, your body, the tantalizing beauty of your being that titillates me to no end.  I feel embarrassed when you notice my longing eyes, my skilful glances in the sly at the heave of your bosom, my eyes roving into the deep chasm in them; my gape at the fatal curve of your hip, the irresistibility of your rump; when the puckish gentleness of the breeze gently violates you- blowing aside the pallu of your sari, to feel the enchanting navel; the wheat tanned skin of your nape , and your back that you deftly display with the sartorial skill of your blouse; the low waist jean that clings at the partition of your rump, while you consciously expose the flesh below your navel and the naevus there about  ; the light weight skin thin short knitted top that enhances the contours of your torso, while you wantonly  gives me a peek to the straps of your bandeau and the wealth of your bosom; the contrived innocence in your lovely eyes that bewitches to no end and sometimes the lustful and ravishing glances that you throw at me.

Didn’t this confession satisfy you? Now tell me why wouldn’t I want you?
I was brought up to respect you, to not abuse you physically and by word of mouth. I have been truthful to my conditioning and what I believe in- not to violate women. Not to force a woman to yield to a wild amorous fantasy that may plow me. I fantasise you as you would me. Can you be honest here? 

I must say that your garb, your sex appeal is hard to resist. Often the empyrean beauty of your being is overshadowed by the voluptuousness of your robes that is aided by sartorial skill and the sparse use of the fig-leaf. Often you barely wear enough and flirtatiously expose. You hide behind the argument, it is your body and you have the sole right over it; you have the right to wear what your are comfortable in.Certainly!  You do that I know to impress, to attract me, to draw you to someone, potently and instantly.  I agree that you and I choose our robes, douse our flesh and skin with fragrances (that begrudges even the Gods) with skillful intent to impress, to appeal. You may be confident but your fig up that often is not in sync, is flirtatious and is universally aphrodisiacal.

I do not ask you to move about cocooned in black cloak, head to toe with tiny vents for your nostrils and your eyes, lest my amour becomes roguish and go berserk. I do not ask you to weave into   cocoon like a pupa. I assured you, I know not to violate a woman. But I refuse to be cowed by your statement that it is your body and you have the right to expose it as you wish. Yes you may. So do me. But when I’m what I’m there is always in the inappropriateness that you show that would make me want you, make me feel that you want to let out the beast in me. Choose your grab to suit the time and place. If you walk in the street square in a high hemmed negligee, that is very silky muslin like outlining your lingerie, sans buttons venting your voluptuous bosom you are only a temptress inviting any. Why do you tauntingly smile at me reclined in from the hoarding aloft the rise in the square tantalisngly  and wearing a casual tee that seems to be licentiously and purposefully pulled down at one shoulder revealing the ivory coloured straps of your brassiere?

You even walked about with in an  organised way as sluts in New Delhi. You called that a “Slut parade”. Didn’t you by using the term “slut” defile yourself and violate the many among you? There and then you told me, you confessed that you are aware that sluts and hussies are dressed in such way that would provoke the carnal beast in me.

You may brand me vile, satanic, and slobbering male chauvinistic squalor swine. Yes you may, but first make me convinced that my statements here are rubbish and are fulminations of a chauvinistic pig.

Believe me your beauty is given to you with unrestrained abundance by Nature and the many artificial gimmicks you borrow to enhance it, to take it to a level where you would succeed to entrance me, to provoke me- might stumble me , might unleash all restraint that I guarded with care. And that thinking you have is naïve, is perilous to you and me.

Believe me, I admire you, respect you but it is you who can make me crave lustfully and it is you who can make me behold you in awe,  in awe of Nature and her creation that is you.  

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Bigotry of Burqa


This is not a post of irrational suspicion or hatred of a particular group, race, or religion. In fact this is an earnest attempt to air some point of view as candidly and as succinctly as possible. This is a reply to a Blog commentator by the name Aziz who commented on a Blog post of Retired Justice Markandeya Katju  titled, “Do away with  Burqa” (http://justicekatju.blogspot.in/2014/06/do-away-with-burqa.html . Mr. Aziz was quite upset with my opinion endorsing the Justice’s view and more so to some of my observations and chose to be the jihadi against my views.
I have edited the exchanges (my comments) between me and this mysterious Mr. Aziz and have added more thought to it.


Comment-Anilkumar Kurup
“If a religion that is didactic and stifling with its bigotry decrees, yes Sari, Salwar etc. too may become dresses that will be banned by the clerics. And anyone questioning it will be stoned. Wouldn’t this be the case? Sati was evil and so is any form of practise thrust upon women/people and Burqa is one such. Are Muslim women given the choice? They are controlled, blinkered and choke collared and if they dare resist the Damocles sword of religion is used. Isn't this the real life story?                              
 And famously a clichéd phrase is used by the controlling forces and unfortunately even some women swear by it,'burqa is the expression of Muslim identity" .Identity- my foot.”

Reply -Aziz - June 2014 12:28
First of all there is no difference between burqa,sari and salwar in terms of freedom.                       Second, when you are talking about choice ask the same question to your self, are your women given the choice to follow western fashion? So please don't talk about choices, the only difference in choice is the limit, your limit is sari and salwar and our limit is burqa. And if you are taking about those tiny percentage in big cities and movie industry, Its because being educated they are not following Hinduism any more, after your scriptures have been proven wrong for 1000 times by modern science. But this is not the same with muslims because nor their scripture is incompatible with modern science neither their beliefs became weak.

Anilkumar Kurup12 June 2014 08:49
Firstly I comment not as a Hindu, though I have been born to parents who are Hindus. Mr. Aziz has commented like a typical ordained, indoctrinated Muslim. i.e.” all else and all things other than what Islam say and follow are wrong. All those who are not Muslims are khafirs. And that only Muslims bleed.” It’s a pity Mr. Aziz.
This reminds me of a fascinating anecdote. A Muslim preacher (Mullah) vociferously kept proclaiming that there are all things that pertain to Man and Universe in his holy book. And that every invention has been mentioned in it before it was invented or even thought of as a possibility. An enterprising boy stood up and asked either after becoming unable to tolerate his lopsided claims, "Mullah in your holy book is there something mentioned about Paracetamol and how it can be produced"?
Mr. Aziz until you guys learn to tolerate, respect and accept argumentation and inclusion , all that Islam can produce for posterity is nothing but suicide bombers and violence. You cannot for any reason claim that Burqa is not vile. It is t an archaic form of forced dress code not meant to cover skin but the soul and spirit of women.

Aziz12 June 2014 09:58
"You cannot for any reason claim that Burqa is not vile." Its so pathetic that when you have nothing valid to say in support of your argument, you start commanding it. And always alleged terrorism on muslims as a last resort, because thats the only way to escape for you....So pathetic.

Anilkumar Kurup12 June 2014 17:20
Ok friend, my apologise, I rephrase. "Burqa is evil and stiffing of the spirit". It is now a statement and you can refute it with reasons that are not masochist.
The unfortunate fact is, it is in societies where Muslims live that violence is unabated. Though we have problems in all societies Muslims think for them as a class apart. And the Wahhabi form of Islam wants the world for them and them alone.
It is a pity, Mr. Aziz. Why cannot you respect other religions? Why do you want to dominate other societies? There is considerable freedom for all faith in India but even a Muslim cannot breathe without fear in the barbaric country of Saudi Arabia where ironically every word is spoken sworn after your Prophet and God. There Wahhabi Islam is a threat to world order and inclusiveness. They export it through the power of petro-dollars.
The issue here is not just a burka or if a woman wears it of her volition or is forced to. But even educated Muslims such as presumably you, are living with blinkers and shows no mindset to be inclusive and tolerant.
And Mr. Aziz, if you are there please care to answer my two replies point by point. That is what discussion is about isn't it?

Aziz13 June 2014 15:09
“Well, First of all I don't know what you are calling violence, if you mean by wars in syria, egypt and other few countries, then it is because of transitional period as respected justice Katju said, it has happened to all the countries including America, Europe and US. And it has nothing to do with being muslim country.As far as the wahabiat is concern I don't know much about them but they are very few in numbers and almost negligible in India. It is just a perception that muslims cannot respect other religions. can you make clear where are you seeing muslim not respecting other religions. In fact you have problem with burqa,beef and 100 many more things of muslims which is no where violating any right of you. Have you seen any muslim protesting against your sati,cast system or rape and fraudulent acts of some Babas. These misconception are literally created by western media and millions of anti-muslim books written over the last century for their own gain and later on followed by the Indian media as always.Muslims, specially Indian muslims always respected the other religions but unfortunately they have not been treated equally and thats the problem. As far as the wahabiat is concern I don't know much about them but they are very few in numbers and almost negligible in India.”

Anilkumar Kurup15 June 2014 18:19
My friend you have got it wrong. The problems or the gory violent life that persists in the Arab world, in the Middle East is nothing related to transition. Transition can happen only in societies that have institutions that are democratic. The violent saga in the Arab world in the name of “Allah” and his Prophet has been on since the advent of Islam. It is rather ironical that the same God and his messenger could not put to order the perpetual warring Shiites and Sunnis. One can understand the tribal societies in a certain age in history that were perpetually killing and plundering but the same to happen in this era is quite an achievement of Islam or whatever people in the Muslim world makes out of it. Don’t you see? Why do Sunnis kill Shiites? Care to enlighten me? Give me a logical explanation. I say that it is because of intolerance of Sunnis and in equal measure the Shiites. These two folks will for another millennia and more kill and maim one another to determine who can be the legitimate successor to Mohammed. And still not find and answer. Reason – intolerance and disregard for another’s view point- the bane of Islam as we can see. However you can find consolation in the fact that the right wing Hindutva groups are now rivalling extreme Islamists to be the custodians of intolerance and bigotry
“As far as the wahabiat is concern I don't know much about them but they are very few in numbers and almost negligible in India.( Quote Mr.Aziz)”                                                               The above statement I’m afraid tells your ignorance. Wahhabism is the brand of Sunni Islam that Saudi Arabia is exporting. And the terror angle in India is funded by this Wahhabi money. What we see in the ideology of Al Qaeda and other terror wings like LET or Jaishe Mohamed and even in the ISISI , now in Iraq is another extreme form of Sunni Wahhabism. They want to create a Caliphate stretching from the Mediterranean to South Asia. Fantastic philosophy of inclusiveness and tolerance! Isn’t it?

“It is just a perception that muslims cannot respect other religions. can you make clear where are you seeing muslim not respecting other religions. .( Quote Mr.Aziz)”
My friend, are you feigning ignorance. Surely you cannot be naïve as you seem to confess through your statement here. Let us discuss examples from history and recent times. Tell me why was the Bahamian Buddha the 6 th century year monolith sculpture, the monumental statue of standing Buddha carved into the side of a cliff in the Bamwam valley in Afghanistan bombarded by the Taliban the neolith faithful’s of Islam? If that was not uncivilsed and abhorrent intolerance then certainly it was also a blatant form of intolerance propagated by Islam. Those criminal, the terrorist, and the thugs- the Taliban tore down the statue with heavy artillery in the name of Allah. Strange if the God of Islam demands disrespect and irreverence of other faith. Do you really believe that there is an Islamic God the only true God, that there is a Christian God a false one at that, and that there is a Hindu vile God and a Jewish God again a false one? Do you insist that people believe in this fairy tale and kill their own? Why is the Muslim foray into India splashed and soiled by blood and aided by sword? Why were the Hindu temples of ancient India deracinated, desecrated and Hindus put to sword? Why were there forced conversions? Look at the biographies of Mohammed of Ghori and Ghazanni for instance. What else were those excursions of terror if it was not intolerance? Rajiv Gandhi buckled and leaked through his trouser like a fool and amended the law under Muslim pressure to circumvent the court ruling favouring a destitute Muslim woman ‘Sha Bano’ who was denied maintenance by her husband sighting the ‘glorious’(sic) but God given Muslim personal law. What was that my friend if that was not intolerance and refusal to heed to civilised norms? My friend do you know which was the first Mosque in India? Do you have any idea? Can you guess? The ‘Cheraman Masjid’ is in Kodungalloor, near Kochin in Kerala is said to be the very first mosque in India, built in 629 AD by Malik lbn Dinar. The land was gifted by the local Hindu ruler.

“In fact you have problem with burqa,beef and 100 many more things of muslims which is no where violating any right of you. Have you seen any muslim protesting against your sati,cast system or rape and fraudulent acts of some Babas. ( Quote Mr.Aziz)”
You got it wrong here using me in the first person. (‘…your Sati, your beef etc.”)Yes I was born to Hindu parents and that precisely helped me to respect and tolerate different faith. My friend do you really believe that there is a Muslim God, a Hindu God, Christian God, a Jewish God etc.? My friend I’m not a Hindu as you may believe, and perhaps I will agree if you say I’m a Hindu with no religious fervor and madness like some Hindus and many Muslims and Christians too. I do not believe or see any reason to claim that there is a Hindu God and he alone is great. I see only reasons to rubbish people who say so and Muslims too who claim that only Islam is true. If Muslims did not protest against Sati it shows how barbaric they thought. My friend, Sati was one evil aspect of Hinduism and thankfully done away. Casteism, child marriage, ban of widow marriage etc. are other forms of evil in Hinduism. Like stifling woman in Burqa, like stoning women, like your triple Talq helping men, like polygamy and subjugating women thereafter are vices in Islam. If you do not protest and raise voice against all these evils and  be it in any faith you are a bad Muslim and above all a worst kind of human being, an abominable one. That goes with me and everyone. Understand that. Even though I’m not religious I go to temples, Churches and have been to Mosques too. I find no God cursing me for that. Can you do that with free mind without your mullahs and fellow Muslims kicking you in your arse? My friend it is not Muslims alone who bleed. The colour of blood for you and me is red.

“These misconception are literally created by western media and millions of anti-muslim books written over the last century for their own gain and later on followed by the Indian media as always.(Quote Mr.Aziz)”
Why do you allow for misconception? Have you listened to this Islamic preacher Zakhir Naik? The invective he throws at Hinduism, Christianity and other religions? He proclaims that as I mentioned in my earlier reply to you that Koran has everything truthful. Not only implying but asserting vocally that all other Texts, texts of other faith is rubbish. The silence of the educated among Muslims in the face of the bigotry of Clerics and their perverted ideology is what helps the West talk nonsense of your faith. Come-on my friend Muslims has been allowed to migrate to France, to UK, to Spain and many Western countries. They are free to practice Islam there. They have equal citizenship rights. And you say that there is misconception in the West. This is ungratefulness and nonsense my friend. You will have more freedom and respect in the West if you go there than in the custodian country of Islam Saudi Arabia.

“Muslims, specially Indian muslims always respected the other religions but unfortunately they have not been treated equally and thats the problem.( quote Mr.Aziz)”
Wrong absolutely wrong and your contention is egregious. In fact Muslims in India are a pampered lot, by the Congress rule and their vote bank politics. I do not know what the BJP would do, if they will correct the lopsidedness or go to the opposite extreme. If Muslims in India have not developed they are themselves to be blamed. Their stifling laws, practices and clerics who hold fatwas like in medieval Arabia to silence progressive voices among Muslims are the reason for your backwardness. Why do Muslims in northern district of Kerala want the criminal law to be amended to free Muslim men to marry minor girls? My friend you go to Pakistan, go to Middle East you will then see what it means by freedom of expression and fundamental rights you have  here being an Indian. As for a country carved on theocratic mumbo jumbo look at Pakistan. You will then fall prostrate and thank your God for creating you as an Indian and being able to live in a free country like India. If the Jews were driven out of every land they went to, there must certainly be something unsavoury about their attitude as the guest in a foreign land. But remember they the Jews could find sanctuary, identity, peace and quiet in India and nowhere in the world where they safe-look back into history. Mr. Aziz if you cannot be happy still, I implore you- look within. For the Kingdom of heaven may be within you.
A few years ago the well-known writer, and novelist Kamal Das ( Madhavikutty), turned  Kamal  Suraya after her impetuous conversion to Islam was disillusioned with herself and her capriciousness  and expressed desire to be as she was before the conversion. She was threatened (in her own words as said in her memoir) by Muslim groups of dire consequence to her life if she chose to discard her Islamic conversion. Is this is the mark of Islamic tolerance that many Muslims swear is vouched in their scriptures?

These observations are not to vilify your faith, but to seek civilized responses and answers to my questions. Why, Mr. Aziz, do we not see even feeble voices of protest by learned Muslims against Islamic militancy, terror, injustices and atrocities perpetuated in the name of Islam?


Friday, June 13, 2014

In the Rain


The rains have  not just the romanticism about, they  can lend you a salubrious effect whether you walk in the rains or sit indoors and watch through the mullioned window the silver drops falling from the skies like arrows of avidity. I’m enjoying the monsoon, reveling in it, tactile about it after very many years. When was the last I was in the land “Where the rain is born”, in the monsoon?

Where is the dullness of spirit the occasional ennui that besotted?  The friendships that were faux serenading thus far in malarkey, wasting many a happy hour?  All washed away in the monsoon down pour like the calloused rubble and dust.

Last night it rained, waking me up like with the accompaniments of a Kathakali libretto and I pulled aside the sashes of the window and lay in bed melting in the cascading waters from the heavens. The glow of the lone light outside lend an aura of abstractness to the moment. It was sublime and longed that sleep doesn’t power over me.

Ironically power cuts come about in the land of rains, now even in the monsoon. But then this is a land of ironies, of contradictions, of eternal disagreements, of many gods and of men who fiercely are querulous and unilateral, of the ones despairing to make believe there is a halo about them. This is a land of opinions galore, of many News Papers and news makers, of bandhs and hartals protesting a cur crossing the street or a mongrel’s bark, of literates and lovers of Nature, of activists and patrons. Like squelch after the monsoon that usually stays for about ninety days life is akin to squelch in this diversity, incongruity and contradictions.

A few days back, she called from Mumbai to tell what she wanted to do about her future. The longing, exuberance and tenacity of youth, like Jonathan Livingston the Seagull learning about life and flight, and a about self-perfection! That is the import, she will know.


“Don’t believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation. Look with your understanding. Find out what you already know and you will see the way to fly.” Indeed, yes to fly, fly higher than any seagull and to be the architect of your own fate.

The power of monsoon rains!

Friday, June 6, 2014

"Hello Friend , Good Day"


We Indians, especially the Mallu lot have a predilection to snoop, stray and often intrude into another’s privacy; privacy of personal life, family, habits, professional activity and even his mundane routine. Some do it wantonly and some with manicured innocence. Though, I must admit that there have been in my experience a few civilsed exceptions to this.

It is in our temperament and tinctured social etiquette to ask a friend or an acquaintance who we meet  on the street, not how he or she is this morning or exclaim a pleasant day, but where he or she is going to. This I’m afraid may sound innocuous and even unpretentious but to me intrusive and an avoidable one at that.
Even if we ignore such enquiries as trivia and forgettable, there are the elements, the wiggles that hold us on the way, even way lay us, ambush us and literally cross examine us. I loathe such kind.

Long ago in my teens, I guess I was in the first or second year in college- it was the period when exploratory journeys were made with the taboo and banned practices say like smoking. Though I have never been a regular smoker, I have also been provoked by the charm of cigarettes. So most of the smoking adventures where in the College Hostel, canteen or in alleys. Cinemas where insecure as one could not tell who among the public would snitch back to the folks at home. One day after college I bought a cigarette at the pan shop next to the bust stop, lit it and luxuriously pulled in a lungful of tobacco smoke when I noticed the middle-aged man who lived in my neighbourhood walking towards where I was and I sneaked behind the pan shop. But I was actually provoked when I learnt that this impertinent fellow saw me light the cigarette and even before I noticed him and was headed towards where I was. He headed straight to me throwing perverted glances at my hand which hid the cigarette in the palm rather instinctively. In reality my reaction was borne out of a little respect for a person who was quite older to me and known to me as well. He came to me and asked facetiously as if it was the sole question that he was seeking an answer for the whole of his life thus far.” Why are you standing here?”  It was specious. I decided to confront him at his game.   I gathered the strength and impassively looked at him, my annoyance got the better of me that I put the cigarette to my lips and pulled in a lungful and threw it out sideways. I do not remember well what he did after. He vanished and since that day he would cross the street whenever he has seen me approaching his way. Audacity of teen and rebellious though, I could not understand even from then why some people choose to be intrusive and ask things that are impertinent and are best left to the privacy of another.  I would have honoured him had he ignored my standing there, walked past me unconcerned and then gone to my home and told folks that I had taken to smoking.

Besides the pleasure of seeing the discomfort of another, what ails many and make them ferret with their stinking noses is some have no subject matter or topic to discuss that they display impertinence.
At a recent social gathering where there were quite a few strangers’, I was introduced to some and I preferred to confine to exchange of pleasantries and handshakes. Some enquired where I lived and such innocuous questions. One fellow went further and in his sonorous voice asked me what I did for living and I told him I was retired from active work. He persisted. “That is alright, but what were you doing?”             

 “I was in business.” I said, smelling his inquisitiveness.                                                                        
 “That is strange I have not seen or known people retire from business.” He said rather pompously. I felt that like a question to which he demanded an answer.  I could see some other people milling around.                 
 “Well, now, you saw me! I guess that will make your evening.” I stated and moved on. Here the fellow was simply being inquisitive but I did not appreciate it much.

I have a distant relative who is an expat and he has been cooling his heels presumably assisted by the resources he may have saved during his working days.  That must be one of the reasons why he directs his unspent energy, time and mind on matters that are not his. He collects tit bits from sources sauté it and diffuses around. That, I’m certain invigorates him and makes him appear sanguine. Once, at a wedding reception he with artistic pureness asked a person who was estranged from his wife why he did not bring along his spouse. The miserable person was constantly avoiding such social functions since the estrangement as he was uncomfortable when people made such enquiries and few of us had persuaded him to attend. He did not stop at that and continued ferreting. Where she was? Why she could not get leave from her office? Why she is living and working in another city? Why he would not bring the children? And how sad he felt that he could not see all of them at that function! It was chagrin. The outrageous part was the fellow was aware that something was amiss in the miserable person’s family.

Isn't it bare decency that people confine to pleasantries invoking the sunny day or the cool evening or even the warm day after the torrential rains than ask awkward questions to a stranger or someone who is not a close friend? Could we tell if the other is not awkward towards our, perhaps even innocent ask or something we presume is a mundane matter that is generally discussed? Shouldn't we pause to watch what topic the other is comfortable to discuss with us? Shouldn't we accept an iota of privacy as a person’s birth right and inalienable?
“Privacy is not something that I'm merely entitled to, it's an absolute prerequisite.”  Someone said that.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

"Kerala Cafe"


The night was warm but it was about the humidity that we spoke about. The sky was cloudy and that shut out the stars. But more than the absence of a starry sky, the cloudy night was a matter of discomfort. The terraced balcony of the house was half shaded by a canopy roof, underneath which it was warmer than out in the open terrace.

What the nine of us who gathered up there did not acknowledge was that it was not an inconsiderate weather that was enhancing the humidifying feel, but the warmth of whiskey and Vodka that we were liberally ingesting. The spouses were down inside the house congregated presumably around the dining table fanned by the cool breeze of the ceiling fan.  The twenty-fifth wedding day anniversary dinner of a friend was what that brought us together at his house.

“Hey, by the way how about your father? Is he better now?  I asked B.
“Well how can it be better? It is getting worse.” B said.
Well, I remember when we last met you mentioned that he was not too bad and was back home from the hospital.”
“Yes, yes he is home. But then he has forgotten how to get out of his cot. You can see what would happen if we try to get up from bed only using our legs and that when an eighty five year old man does, it would be inviting agony for him and trouble for others.” I felt I noticed a glimpse of a tiny streak of irritation in B’s face and in the words. B continued. “I’m really worried for him if he has forgotten what a fall is .A fall, a broken bone can be very difficult in his age and in the mental state that he is.”
I nodded in agreement.

B said. “I fear he is fast losing all mental faculties. And besides that he is reasonably fine for a person of his age. That in fact is compounding the problem for him and for others.”
“In a way he is fortunate B. There are people to take care of him, I mean his children. Didn’t we hear the story on TV the other day when five children forsake their old mother- casting her away at a temple town? Then when the district administration and police traced them, they refused to accept the mother back. They were even not deterred by the threat from the District Collector to slap criminal charges against them.” BJ who was a professor said.

“Yes, that was raw negligence and ungratefulness. Wasn't it?” said I. “Remember TC.” I said referring to our host. “He had to bear with his mother for five long years. She was bedridden and was struck by dementia. Lucky for her he and his wife took good care of her. It was not the money alone that matters in such cases. It is the goodness of heart, whether children or stranger.”

“I have no hope for these words and deeds such as of gratefulness and gracious. They are luxurious nouns and adjectives meant for eulogies and sycophancy. They are all defunct in today’s world. And I have decided that I will have nothing to do with my son when I’m old and if I live long. I will sign my savings to a hospice or an old age care and be comfortable. One has to be stupid to tag on to their children hoping they will take care of us when we are old. One has to be practical and feel no anguish about. They, the young too have a life to live. Don’t they? And if the old outlive and become encumbrance, do we still blame the young and their attitude?” P said aboveboard. He in fact had signed and legalised a document consigning his cadaver to the medical school and also donated his organs that could be harvested.

B was completely in agreement with P. He said.  “We cannot be judgmental. To slur those people who left their old mother will be unfair. They were being as P said practical. Perhaps they ran out of options. Didn’t you see the movie “Kerala Café” where a scene shows this man who had to cast away his mother who was afflicted by Alzheimer’s? The agony and raw torment he faced was well copied. What could he do? Abject poverty and no way he could feed or take care of the old woman; a cantankerous wife but to blame her was unfair. She was beyond her tether of her patience and forbearance; little children to take care and above all he were the only person to bring home bread.”

Now it was P who said. “Now listen, Man as a species was meant to live and procreate. Nothing more and nothing less. Nature have never intended Man to live beyond say forty or fifty years life span. It is the so called progress, inventions, discoveries, science etc. that has given man longevity, well beyond what was sustainable from Natures’ point of view. Come on yar our productive procreative life begins to ebb after forty. The prime is over in the forties. And what else are we here for. All this sociological commitments, the notion that “Man”, with a big Capital “M” is more  advanced, developed intellectually than beast, we cannot compare us to beasts etc. are bunkum.  They are off shoot of our conceited inflated self, our false feeling, and our silly belief in our prominence.”

We were going through a very interesting discussion.

“But why then do we have faculties of cognition, contemplation, and reasoning? Aren’t we differently evolved than beasts, though we are not in any way superior? Certainly each species is superior in its own ways learning to survive. Isn't it so?” I wanted to say but by then the call from downstairs for dinner was relayed to us  and we had to leave the matter and move down.

Monday, May 12, 2014

A Conversation



“It is the easiest of all acts to display being offended and you must understand that, see through that act. One doesn’t always  have to be coached at a school of acting to display expressions to cover ones underbelly.  Ha, don’t you see that being offended is our national pastime and sport? ” I said, the last sentence in lighter vein.

Though we have been discussing the topic for a while, the protagonist was not agreeing with me completely and seemed to be in déjà vu. “It may be true; perhaps you have been right in your judgment. Perhaps! But his conduct and the utter demeaning way he speaks, he rubbishes make one feel having done something gravely offensive.  In fact he makes you feel guilty of having wronged him.”

“Now look.” I said. “That is exactly the point I want to make. Alas! He has seen through you like he may have seen through some others, who may have had the same failings as you- who may have had timorously swallowed his acts of prudishness and preferred to see his idiosyncrasies as harmless and passable. You must ignore his malarkey, his acts. His sophistry, his imperious self-obsessed self-righteousness did not allow him understand you and acknowledge your honest feelings about him.  He may have had his way with people who were timid and passive; he loves their company because he can brusquely lord over them and revel. He may have noticed that strategy worked well for him and he has continued to practice it as an art and craft that gives him pleasure. He thus acquired the audacity to expect, to demand the same unquestioned pliantness form all. Hence his arrogance, his tantrums of being offended. That is only a decoy to sustain him.” 

“I guess so.” She replied.

“And doesn't he get wretchedly personal when he has this grandiose feeling of annoyance of being offended?  When he has nothing else to elevate his ego and his imperious righteousness to levels where others cannot rubbish it?” I said.

She said.“Of course he does. I have heard him often and seen him too; he has now directed his ire towards
me like he has done to others in the past. He has the bloated egoistic feeling of having been offended. Yes, he does. Sometimes when he displays his dictatorial annoyance, he makes people feel that he is “Napoleon” the rather fierce-looking big boar, the character in Orwell’s Animal Farm; not much of a speaker, but with a fearful reputation for getting his own way. He brooks no critique and dissent. Once at a friendly gathering, he threw up tantrums that were sour and behoved people who have not been through proper education and it was gauche. It was his reaction that was offensive and peeved me and others to much extent. All because a gentleman was expressive with his opinion that he resented.His opinionated statement about the gentleman whose only fault was that he spoke his mind and conviction, even to this day is derisory. Yet we brushed  it off as a tiny dark streak on the moon. ”

“Precisely the point. Brushing it aside may have been the mistake. But we do that because each one of us has characteristics and idiosyncrasies’ that are both good and not bad. Long at last, you seem to have finally after these many years understood the emptiness in the person. Such folks are selfish, unsure of themselves, they fear their weaknesses.  They aspire but are non achievers because they revolt within than be honest to themselves. They cannot be gregarious. They are double-entendre. If you trusted him it was your error of judgment. Your limitation! They think they can get even with others if they indulge in personal diatribe. Thus they expect to plow you down. You know? Ignore him, such lot. Move on. There is much brightness elsewhere in this world than to be tethered into a dark alley that can only be lit by an artificial source.” I said.

We spoke about other matters in general, a bit of politics and what could be in store with the general election results on May 16. Orwellian possibility! We agreed upon that without ado.


Thursday, April 24, 2014

The Helmsman


A few weeks ago an unpretentious, diminutive man in his early seventies, a French and born to Jewish parents passed away in his adopted city, New Delhi, India. I understand that the obituary was in the Times of India and the Hindustan Times. A memorial was held in New Delhi and a requiem performed by the Opera that he co-founded, which is co- managed by his daughter.

“The Neemrana Music Foundation is a registered, national nonprofit, nonpartisan educational organisation in the field of classical music and they believe in the mandate to build bridges of understanding between different cultures. We have been pioneers in introducing the genre of Opera in India. We started with the production of the Indo-French Opera "The Fakir of Benares" in 2002 (Delhi) and 2003 (Mumbai).” (Quote)

Now the idea behind this post is not culture integrating art, Opera or for that matter the innovative hospitality Industry branded the Neemrana Heritage Hotels & Resorts or the highly reliable and professional fashion apparel sourcing business he founded since landing in Indian shores as a French diplomat and deciding to settle down in Mumbai in the 1970s.

Having had the privilege to briefly speak and chit chat with him on a few occasions, having had the opportunity to associate with a segment of his business empire and having been privy to many good words spoken about him, what struck me the most was the faith he reposed in people he picked to work with him and entrust his business empire. That uncanny knack of finding and trusting the right person has paid rich dividends and even after his passing the enterprises he developed, are I believe, in genuine and worthy hands. What probably prompted him to trust must be his unselfish attitude and the willingness to share the dividends of labour. He certainly gave a sense, a feeling of ownership to his top lieutenants and they may have probably percolated the notion down the pyramid.

Why do I mention this story? It is because I have been trying to compare human relationships and how they can prosper into equitable and strong ways and how avarice, grift and selfishness coupled with mediocrity, substandard education and fostering can threaten to pulverise and deracinate relationships, family and businesses.

Once, I asked a gentleman what was the secret story of the success behind their fairly big business which was well into through the second generation. He said. “It was the ability of the helmsman to carry every one along .He would not mind much if one oarsman is a tad slow, his effort will be substituted by the rest and that, seldom is an effort.” Certainly he did not refer to acquiescing inefficiency , remember it was a figure of speech. 

A stark contrast to these two let me call them allegories and the metaphor of the helmsman is a study in human greed, selfishness and absence of values- a concoction that is caustic and erodes the foundation itself. Sand Castles how so ever high are nevertheless buildings of sand build on sand.



Wednesday, April 9, 2014

The Right to Read


It is always a pleasure and often a sense of having done the right and in no uncertain terms of having asserted your right when you jump a fence that in the first place no one had any business or right to put up.
I today received by courier from AMAZON the Wendy Doniger’s book, “The Hindus an Alternative History”. It cost me Rs 1250 and took two weeks to reach me from its international publisher (not the pliable Penguin India).

This book as many know was found offensive by Dinanath Batra and his group of self-acclaimed Hindus and custodians of Hindu culture ( yes caste, untouchability, dowry, bride burning, marital rape,honour killing , khap panchayats and gang rape of women too are part of the culture they laud about). This group of drumbeaters and bigots filed a civil and criminal suit against the publication and sale of the book in India and simultaneously arm twisted the pliable and  pusillanimous  Penguin India to withdraw the book and pulp it. Interestingly this very same Dinanath Batra took on the Educational Board and has actively opposed and subsequently stopped the introduction of sex education in Indian schools, saying it was against Hindu culture and religion.

Shobha Narayan writes in her post titled “The real reason Wendy Danger’s book on Hindus was banned in India: It’s not boring enough.” She goes on to say, “Doniger is clever and playful; she shines the light into the dark crevasses of a religion that was formulated at a time when feminism as a concept didn’t exist. Doniger knows her Sanskrit and her Vedas, but she looks Hindu rituals and traditions from the point of view of women and minorities. …… .”             
  “……..is blasphemy, as far as he is concerned, never mind that Doniger knows her Sanskrit and Upanishads better than he does; never mind that she understands the glories of ancient India in a way that he cannot begin to fathom; never mind that she knows that the Manu Smriti that he often quotes uses animals to define humans.”
Now in these days when I finally begun to read to hearts content, now that I have a few good books that are tempting me on my table in their own forcible way to be read first, I guess Wendy Doniger has come and the rest will have to wait a while until I read through her tome.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

The author herself had this to say on the pulping of her book in India. “And I am deeply troubled by what it foretells for free speech in India in the present, and steadily worsening, political climate,”                                                                            

 As for me it is not the question of free speech or literary freedom. It is not the widely misused word blasphemy or offending sentiments and hurting religious feelings. It is the question of my fundamental right, my birth right to read what I want. The courts in India have ruled before proscribing books but they have not banned reading them. These impostors and custodians of Hindutva or of Semitic religions, faiths, culture race or region cannot and shall not usurp my right to read and accept or reject what I want.


How about you?

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Musings on a Tuesday Morning


         "It is Dark only till you open your eyes"

Perhaps one of the most, if not the most captivating artistry with words and imagination I have come across has been in the writings of Salman Rushdie. People use varied words and phrases to describe his genre and style of writing; magical realism, abstract, fantasy and dreamland imagination, master class illusion, paronomasia, Houdini of literature and also mediocre, besides ‘absolute bullshit’.

He may be considered less in standing when put up with some of the Latin American exponents of magical realism. Well, then Nobel Prize is the sine qu a non of literary radiance.

When compared to the terrene writings, construction of sentences, choice of words and the plot itself for someone who have been breast fed on the writings of Blyton, Somerset Maugham, Hemmingway, Maurice Procter, RK.Narayan from the old to name a striking few, it was trifle difficult to imbibe the writings of men like Salman Rushdie.

I just finished reading three of Salman Rushdie’s books in the order, “Satanic Verses”, “The Enchantress of Florence” and “Joseph Anton”. While the latter is a memoir of his reclusive days- incognito and hounded by the blood thirsty cannibals of the Khomeini era Iran, the others are typical Rushdie class, the former ( The Satanic Verse) the controversial tome and took quite a while to read and use reference sites in the bargain for understanding, (I can only blame my limited comprehension for that).I must confess I have now begun, rather gained time (by default and by chance) and the appetite to enjoy the oeuvres of good writers.

Going back to the memorable beginning of a novel, “The Enchantress of Florence”, is unequaled.                                       “In the day’s last light the glowing lake below the palace city looked like a sea of molten gold. A traveler coming this way at sunset-this traveler, coming this way, now, along the lake shore road-might believe himself to be approaching the throne of a monarch so fabulously wealthy that he would allow a portion of his treasure to be poured into a giant hollow in the earth to dazzle and awe his guests………..”  
“But the sun fell below the horizon, the gold sank beneath the water’s surface and was lost. Mermaids and serpents would guard it until the return of daylight. Until then, water itself would be the only treasure on offer, a gift the thirsty traveller gratefully accepted.”                                                                                           

The Enchantress of Florence is set in the Mughal reign of Akbar, with occasional forays into the sixteenth century Florentine Italy and pulsating with life that the magical touch of Rushdie’s imagination could lend.
It was yesterday evening, when watching the “News Hour” on TimesNow channel that I began to wonder more and be quite afraid of what is in store for India should a bigoted, perverted and fanatic ideology in the guise of faith and religion were to come to power and with an absolute majority. The mindless frenzy, mobbishness and insane response to the literary creation “The Satanic Verses” and then “Shame” a novella of Tasleema Nasrin helped by mute, acquiescing and pliable governments in India and in some European countries, I find reflects the underlying venom and malaise in human psyche. The danger!

An antisocial called Pramod Muthalik the founder and lord of a fringe rightwing fanatic unit called “Sriramsean” vending his anger and wrath through menacing gesticulations and diatribe to the TV anchor and the civilised world as a whole when cornered by straight questions about his conduct and his self-proclaimed avatar as the custodian of Hindu Dharma and Hinduism was shocking, abhorring, bizarre and foreboding. Outrageously a man, a local head of his vile tribe who is a software engineer endorsed in equally frenzied manner the pathological ideology of Pramod Muthalik and that was far more distressing. They swore that they will hound and moral police any man or woman who to them are conducting against Hindu faith and Hindu dharma, because they have a right to safe guard Hinduism perse.

Mercifully in this age of live video telecast and information explosion such vile and perverted thinking elements are quickly exposed.  Though in some cases there are men who are roaming free even after a decade after approving and acquiescing social cleansing.
But what is amplified by the continuing ban in India on the book “Satanic Verses” and of late the meek withdrawal of Wendy Doniger’s scholarly work on Hinduism is that individual freedom, freedom of thought and learning are continuously threatened in all religions and all faiths have demented men and women, cannibals preying upon a just and peaceful  society where individual rights and tolerance is helped to flourish through argumentation and civilized conduct than recourse to banning of unpleasant facts and resort to mayhem.

Ironically the book Satanic Verses is not banned in Turkey a secular country with a Muslim majority but is proscribed in India which claims to be the custodian of secular values.
As for men like Pramod Muthalik and others who have thrived raking up communal and religious divide and murder under the guise of saving Hinduism, the fact is such people are like locusts out to devour and deracinate Hinduism that for many millennia flourished without  abetting bloodshed or by slaughtering  non-believers, but mostly on free thought, free speech, argumentation and tolerance.

If men like Muthalik and his more famously infamous  brethren are concerned, distressed and incensed by the repeated denigration of Hinduism and what they call Indian ethos and culture, they should be voicing and acting against social evils like caste,discrimination based on one's caste and  un-touchability that plagues Hinduism even to this day.

Certainly we do not need the aid of a Rumpelstiltskin who is the creation of marketing mavericks to lord over us and tell us about Hinduism or a brother in arms of an Ayatollah Khomeini or a mediaeval Catholic inquisitor to play the divisive card, be a moral police or bludgeon people with their outlandish ideologies.

Why these people are frightened of books, of words is because they contain far more potent matters of reason, ideas and truth that can threaten and unveil the cannibalistic and satanic ideas that they purvey as heaven-sent. In fact they may even want to rewrite history erasing what they do not like even if it were true historical facts.




Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Waking from the Dead


The smart phone thrust inside the breast pocket of my shirt ruffled me when its ring tone- music, together with the accompanying vibration woke me from the dead .Usually I stuff the phone in the pocket of my trouser, lest the electromagnetic radiation interfered with the smooth functioning of the heart and enhanced the chances if any of its naughty petulance. Frankly I was not worried about the radiation messing up with other functional organs. Well I could not recall what, if it was not the alleged malevolence of radiation that eventually interfered and annoyed the heart and put me down -dead. That is a different story which needs to be probed separately and is not in context here.

Well then, as I mentioned, the smart phone rang and that startled me and also interrupted the eulogy one bloke was engaging in with little restraint. Though I managed to maintain the perfect cadavers pose, folks standing around were attracted to the origin of the ring tone as it always does when the surly ring of mobile phones defiles and irritates, intruding into many places and occasions where it has no bloody business to be . “I see trees of green........ red roses too ; I see em bloom..... for me and for you ; and I think to myself.... what a wonderful world……”  Louis Armstrong’s immortal masculine voice played on through the Smart phone. I wondered if the irony of the song was missed.

 I must have been dead for quite a few hours, I guess less than a day or there about and I noticed that folks who promised me to consign my cadaver to the medical school forgot about the matter. Else I had no business to be laying there a silent, mute spectator in torpor clubbed by the ennui of the eulogies’. I ought to have been by then lying spread-eagle on some dissection table, rib cage sawed open, entrails left out, surrounded by curious youthful faces and a sophisticated professor- all equally amazed how the fellow’s liver stayed intact after years of tangoing with spirits.

Coming back to the interrupted eulogy, I was certain that these pleasant hearted souls would not want to speak ill about the deceased and that must be the sole provocation for this pretty long but certainly boring ritual of lavishing encomiums on the dead . I surveyed the scene from a distance and saw some of the elders annoyed at the sudden and irreverent (sic) intrusion of the Smart phone. I was laying recumbent, supine- decked with a few flowers and a couple of wreaths – laurel wreaths (!) (Sic).

Now, since I have been dead for long, how do I account for the time I spent from the moment of dying till now? I have not been to a nether world; I did not see paradise or the abominable hell. No fairies in pristine white chiffon gowns and silver wings sprouting from their backs, no sandalwood  and rose scented , perfumed sparsely clad celestial damsels  with provocative bosoms and rump, no forbidding looking men eager to haul me over rough thorny terrains. Then it struck me pleasantly, man there is no hell and mercifully there is no heaven too. The stories of rotting hell and bright paradise with rivers of honey and oceans of unadulterated milk have been pretty fables used by the sophist, grifters and nitwit men and women to scare the gullible , the meek hearted, the guilt ridden selfish of people and they were in plenty. I was immensely relieved, pleased and happy that there was no hell and heaven in the after-world- there was no after-world to worry about. In hindsight, I ought to have, when alive, enjoyed living with more exuberance than I managed to. Only because there was no hell and heaven to hitch hike to in the afterlife.

Thankfully there was no sniveling around. The eulogy continued by another bloke. I sensed that the folks were eager to get done with it and some were petulantly checking their wrist watches.

I surveyed. One bloke wearing dark aviator glasses, with greyish white hair and beard  was massaging his beard with his fingers, while leaving his other hand thrust in his trouser pocket and occasionally glancing at his reflection in the glass pane of the window. He refuses to be displeased with his appearance. The lovable narcissist that he is! I saw another fellow standing in the far corner, impatient and with deep frown announcing probably his belief that the world around is conspiring against him. Bludgeoned by that belief which constantly shadowed him, he flounced out flummoxed, in anguish and annoyance, pulled his moped from the parking stand and steamed away-all the idiosyncratic qualities intact and  trailing after him. Seeing him go, another tall lean guy, in faded Levis jeans decided that enough is enough with the eulogies, jumped into his car and sped towards the club for his evening quota of spirit.

I moved out to the verandah of the building when I heard some muffled laughter. There were some business friends and acquaintances of old in restrained conversation, broke by intermittent muffled laughter. One fat guy who I always admired for his witty retorts and stories asked another, the short bald guy who resembled an elf, the one who runs away to the wash rooms, or bends down to untie and tie back his shoelace when it was time to throw in his share for the restaurant bill and was one of the least fascinating beings I met when I was alive. “Look, Seethu, do you also not want to go away with such fanfare and respected treatment like our A did? We all will assure you, most of all I will, that we will not lessen the gaiety and splendour of the sendoff we give you when you are gone.”

Typical of the man his jest may sound rude and taunting for those who do not possess taste for spirit, of fun and banter and who are incorrigibly vacuous to appreciate jocularities. I saw Seethu’s face turn pale, paler like, paler than the most pallid among the pale skinned Americans.I impulsively began shaking with laughter and soon put the back of my palm to the mouth to muffle the laugh, though no one would have noticed my laughter in the sudden burst of feet pounding , clapping and laughing out there, triggered by Antony’s assurance to the now distrait Seethu, unconscious of the dead man lying inside and the panegyric ritual.

Louis Armstrong’s sonorous voice persisted and the wake up alarm ring tone on my mobile finally woke me. It was early morning and another beautiful day in this Wonderful world-

“I see trees of green........ red roses too ;I see em bloom..... for me and for you ;And I think to myself.... what a wonderful world.
I see skies of blue..... clouds of white ;Bright blessed days....dark sacred nights ;And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world.
The colors of a rainbow.....so pretty ..in the sky ;Are also on the faces.....of people ..going by ;I see friends shaking hands.....sayin.. how do you do ;They're really sayin......i love you.
I hear babies cry...... I watch them grow ;They'll learn much more.....than I'll never know ;And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world

The person mentioned here, his moniker - Seethu, passed away some six months ago and the news were relayed to me a few days back by a distant colleague.


Sunday, February 2, 2014

Antilla Weddings


There was this little conversation that became a discussion, an argument with raised voices and even then it was difficult to hear over the snarling sound of traffic and the tuk tuk of the auto rickshaw engine.  The shouting that was more partially out of disagreement with the other, annoyance and partly because of the din and noise on the busy road ceased abruptly when the destination was reached. I and R (my daughter) have not taken up the argument from where we left it lurching that late evening.

However the point which I presume she was arguing about was one’s freedom to spend as much money in any which way as one wants one one’s wedding and that it is one’s prerogative. I wonder if she disagreed with the vulgarity and inappropriateness of that vanity in the context. Though she dismissed the possibility of her aping in her life such profligate flaunting and that sounded remarkable!

What prompts me to bring up this subject in the Post is that it is disheartening to see at close quarter young women and young men disinclined to even think of avoiding ostentation and vanity. Certainly the major guilt has to be apportioned upon the parents. Upon the miserable argument of upholding tradition and convention they wittingly or unwittingly assign women as an instrument and the solemnness of wedding as a spectacle.
I mentioned to an elder person about a recent commendable instance where a promising young actress in the Malayalam film industry wed her colleague without such jaundiced display of wealth. In fact the young couple went to the Cancer Center & hospital in Kochi and donated fifteen lakhs of Rupees by cheque. I also told her that people want to be like the Jones next doors and even be one up on the other by displaying and flaunting. She disapproved my statement and said that we must respect the opinion of the general public and cannot be singularly revolutionary. She exclaimed that if Sonia Gandhi does something that may be lauded but if we were to do the same people may ridicule.

So the onus is volleyed around.

I do not disagree that wedding day is in our midst still once in a life time pleasance. People would want to be special and be doing something extraordinary on the day. But decking the bride head to toe in gold and precious stones, hosting sumptuous multiple course dinner for folks already ploughed under by their over indulgence and gluttony is something that must be recommended forcibly for eternal rotting in hell if there is an afterlife.

Looking at the gatherings at a couple of wedding recently (one in the family) I mused if we Indians tend to have a wide spread of relatives, friends and acquaintance than the average family in the West.
R, after the wedding in the family expressed her incense and anguish at the bride being decked up like a marionette over burdened with heavy silk sari and loads of gold all over her besides having to change her robes a few times, while the fella was walking about as if on a stroll by the beach. It is difficult to ignore the empathy and the virtual feeling that she expressed. Would she change her opinion that there need be unrestrained display and spending of money on weddings? Would she agree it cannot necessarily be one’s prerogative to hurl around ones wealth even if it is earned?

She may not disagree, I’m sure that it is still a masculine world however and as much the emancipators (sic) want to liberate the female sex. However and as much the haute couture damsels on prime TV channels discuss and debate the liberated Indian women.


In comparison there is no difference between the Ambani’s obscene eye sore, his mansion the “Antilla” overlooking the slums of Mumbai  and the average wedding in Mallu land.