Rant against the economy

I have never done the routine visits to vegetable vendor for about one and a half year. As my Dad lay sick, I did have to go to get his staple fruit diets. I was horrified to see that the prices for essential groceries have more than doubled in one and a half year.

I remember having had an argument with a friend on the merits and demerits of fuel prize de-regulation.

‘It’s good for economy in the long run’

What fucking good is the economy, when it’s meant to reduce the living standard of the common man? Imagine he ending up sick or unable to go to work. Does the economy grant him prosperity and stability? Or do we consider some sort of social responsibility to feed him our left overs. The scope for all those who preach charity is going to increase as we have been successful in marginalizing more and more percentage of our population.

The great One

A verse I remember from childhood: ‘It’s the divine one who erases the prominent’. Mine is a rough translation. The original is very powerful and piercing. The cover of the ‘Frontline’ did enough to remind me of the verse. Interestingly most of the Indian weeklies who lose no time in doing sex surveys didn’t bother about the fall of the great man. But to limit Rupert Murdoch into the ‘great’ bracket would be too belittling.

Rupert Murdoch did capture most of our mindspace and destroyed our grey cells. This man is not just great, he is super great. The fall of such a man would be nothing less than a super fall. But I wouldn’t predict a total annihilation. The humankind wouldn’t be able to do without the likes of him. Today I look back into how much the toilet papers have captured my imagination.

Until a few months ago the first thing I did in the morning was browse through SUN. it had the real toilet paper quality to give you total pleasure. But I had to be careful that no others would take a sneek peak. The paper regularly carried surveys on how the British preferred bigger boobs together with images authenticating the claims. Then there were raunchy affairs and football news. The invariable tactic was thousands of rumors were manufactured of which two would succeed. After a good 15 minutes, I would close the screen exclaiming ‘How Gross’. The next day my fingers would automatically go into the SUN again.

The Indian papers weren’t far behind in toilet paper stuff. The best one being ToI. The most read online Indian paper. They had also the invariable quality in stroking communal passion by bigoted articles. This would set off angry and bigoted comments from ignorant fools, which would cross the Indian borders too. To make matters there were some of the most stinking bloggers.

Hindustan Times had a better area in ‘confession corner’ . There you would get thousands of miserable people who did it with in laws, uncles, aunts, parents. There were enough space to give your kind advices too. A few weeks ago there was a Hindu v/s HT spat that ran into the editorials. It was about a headline claim from HT saying there were sex change operations being done in newborns. Gross! Right?

There is an instance in the Mahabharatha famously named as Aswathama incident. I don’t see anything better today. The information I see on TV or paper are either misinformation or suppressed information. The greater accessibility to the public has resulted in even indirect policy formation through the media.

The social responsibility of the masses is much more greater today. To me the media is a non real entity that feeds on the fantasies and eroticisms of the general public. So bifurcating the two is not an easy thing. But then again the media moguls may not be innocent enough to wash off their hands.

Even though a tough thing to do, we have to check out an article with sources of conflicting interests. Greater discernment and discretion is required before reaching a conclusion. I have seen bloggers shooting off their mouths inorder to get the maximum hits. How would I demonize Murdoch when we have greater beasts in our midst.

Lady Gaga, Digvijay, Rakhi Sawant, Mallika Sherawat survive on the controversy they pick up. Paying tributes to them once in a while with ample coverage to the silicon valley is disgusting. And I am yet t understand even when women loudly detest them, it’s the female race who are more obsessed with the show piece materials. The greatest women magazines’ main attractive item is their raunchy stories and photos!

Bro

I haven’t seen him grow up for the first 5 years of his life. After a weekend with him, I realized how much he had grown up. Infact we siblings have been sharing a roof for some 20+ years, although we wanted to move out. It all had to start with me. 3 months ago I moved out and now it’s his turn.

This weekend was unbearable, as I had to bear in mind he will be moving out into a different city soon. There were tears fighting to come out. But then it would be too feminine to do so. I remember the decade old marriage video, when he was small as a cat and ran around creating mayhem. I wonder if the cassette would still function. I would someday fetch it from the attic.

He was better than me in every area- passion, character, academics. So when Dad asked me to advise him, I chose not to. I was not worth for it. I know it’s going to be difficult for him to adjust to the truth that he didn’t end up in the field he loved. But then the hard truth about life is we never end up being what we want to be. No one is too lucky or unlucky. It’s good that we finish up our unlucky part early in life.

More than me, it’s going to be our parents who are going to miss you. They are seeing their kids going away to the big wide world to make out a living. May be they will start feeling old and lonely. But then that’s life. We never were the perfect family. They had to struggle a lot to grow three kids with huge appetite. Like a majority of Kerala family of the ‘80s they migrated to the deserts to make a living out of hot desert. Thankfully, we kids didn’t have to struggle much.

The last day when he was talking about a girl he met, I was stunned on how quickly had he matured into adulthood. The only advice would be ‘Bro, it’s a big bad, mad world. So take care’

From now on all the fights and shouting would be nothing but a sweet memory.

Visual Collaboration

I am no particular fan of Arundhathi Roy. The only time I got close to her work was when a few of friends brought the pirated copy of ‘God of small things’ from Bangalore. I put it away after a few pages, as I found it too complicated.

Then came her article in ‘Outlook’ demanding ‘Azadi’ for Kashmir, which set my blood pressure. Back then I was a core nationalist in thinking, proud to be a part of Shining India. Then as I started reading more of leftist literature, I trudged carefully from the comfortable thought process to sticky path. Even today I am not confident or clear about my political stance. But I have learnt to respect and listen to Ms. Roy.

I have to admit, I haven’t read much of her books or essays, basically due to my impatience. But a recent statement from her sent my personal opinion on her roaring.

On a recent visit to Kerala she commented that she wouldn’t be giving her famous book ‘God of small things’ to a film maker. The reason was pretty interesting- visual colonization of minds. Remember, the young writers bollywoodize a book even before it’s out.

The writer has the time and space to convey her feelings. The reader has the time and space to assimilate it. But a script writer has only a few seconds to push the idea through. So there is a good chance for distortion. I have seen most of the classics being reduced to a parody thanks to relative incompetence. ‘Man under the iron mask’ would be the best example.

I used the word ‘relative’ as the script writer needn’t be bad in his profession. He may not be able to rise to the heights of an epic. The example of ‘Godfather’ can be an exception when Cuppola provided us with a better version of the novel.

To me it’s best to make films out of ordinary books-where there is nothing much for a reader to assimilate- or the ones in which need of visuals over power the narrative (Harry Potter ).

The other statement from Ms. Roy was more interesting. ‘The book is not mine. It was a collaboration between me, nature, silence and creatures’. At a time when the so called writers bay for the smallest change credits, she is a trendsetter.

Hostel Life

At an age when most of the guys prefer to settle down with a girl, I was thrown into a place unknown into an unknown place and into a hostel. I had no many friends in the city and I put up with an old friend as a temporary set up. Soon I felt the welcome running cold and I didn’t have to think twice about getting into a hostel.

YMCA runs a chain of hostels along with other facilities all around the world. Down here they have pretty decent hostels which are quite affordable. But it took quite a lot to adjust to the life in a hostel, which I was soon to find out.

Initially I got into a room at the top most floor with bathrooms that are covered with tin sheds. The roomie was a pretty good guy, trying very hard to get into some job. So he sat silently in his chair preparing for his exams. He seemed to eat very little except drink a lot of water. I had a quite lot of privacy except for the mosquitoes.

The first day I came into the room, it was a baking furnce. ‘Dude how do you manage here?’

As if hurt by my intimidation, he opened up the windows the next day letting in a stream of mosquitoes. The nights turned a nightmare for me, as I woke up due to heat or the M-bites. I turned around to see my roomie sleeping peacefully. I wondered how he managed to do that.

As soon as I realized I was slipping into deterioration on loss of sleep, I got offer for another one downstairs. Although I had no much hope for beating the mosquitoes, I hoped I could beat the heat and the offer for an attached bathroom was hard to desist. The ones at the top were hard to open as soon as you were inside!

The old one was very sad to see me go. May be it reminded him of the pathetic room he was in. Besides there was no cupboards. So you had to absolutely trust your mate. But you have no chance to choose your room mate!

The new one was a typical computer geek. He ended up here thanks to some scrupulous guys who conned him into their new college. He had enough money from Dad’s side but never utilized it for anything except computers. He totally cut out his food rations. This guy was good at helping me with my laptops. Besides he never switched off his fan and mosquito repellant. So I had some respite from my two worst nightmares.

The tough part was sharing a toilet that was very dinghy with a total stranger. This guy had a habit of immersing his laundry in the soap powder solution for days, filling our room with detergent smell. We rarely talked with each other. I simply stopped trying when he even refused to acknowledge my greetings. But he was a pretty good guy who had no problem sharing resources. Space is the rarest resource and to share it needs a large heart. The bathroom had problems with the door. So you had to guess the presence inside from the running tap. Once I got in for a bath when the roomie was asleep. I finished my bath closed the tap and took my own time to dry when he pushed open the door to see me in all my glorious nudity. He was so embarrassed and went on repeatedly apologizing.

After two months I have had enough of the hostel. I moved into a two bedroom flat with only me in it. I can walk naked or watch porn or cook food, no one would mind! Now I fantasize getting a hot girl to share the rent.