So many unfinished drafts, unpublished completed drafts that no longer hold relevance, or are beyond my current interests, drafts that have been half-developed, or just some random words and thoughts thrown in. That’s the status of this blog. I am sure a few of you will feel the same about your own blogs and your own writings.
Every now and then, I visit this, just to look at the relics in time I have left. It feels good, it feels nostalgic, it feels so tedious sometimes even. I question if I had lot more free time in my hand than now, but I can’t honestly bring myself to agree to this. I still have my personal time, or time that I can spend on myself that isn’t being demanded by either my work or my family. However, my interests seem to be as different and varied as they were then. My interest in writing remains the same. So, then what’s different now than it was before that I am not devoting enough time to write or publish.
One of the reasons I feel I have become so reluctant to write anything is that I have become a bit jaded with the world I live in. I am enjoying my moments, but not the picture. It’s like that movie which has some brilliant moments, builds up pace to an exciting action, but I am moving here in slow motion.
This time around, I will publish, even if it is just garbage. I need to get things moving. I don’t want this hiatus in writing to be a permanent fixture.
Indian cinema and cuisine seem to be the two major exports to the international community, apart from the obvious tech-knowledge. I remember a colleague who narrated how on her visit to South America, she was bombarded with questions on the way the ladies dressed, the big bindis, maang ka sindoor, etc. Now it is true that what is popular on Television and Cinema is a representation of interest of only a section of the populace, but still is a representation of the whole as well. For example while a Tamil audience is open to tragic ends, Telugu audience prefer neatly tied happy endings.
So when you look at the recent trend of movies that have been popular, and if you are like me, you are left to wonder how it is filled with glitz and glamour, without a subject and necessity to tax your mind. However, when a movie sticks out amidst of this froth of sewer water, it catches your attention. The Queen was one such. I can’t bring out the statistics, but I would say that (hopefully) mainstream cinema is again accepting a female lead rather than them being just eye-candies.
However, to me, the movie touches the hems of greatness and falls back. Perhaps I am looking at it from a perspective very different from the writer/director. Here are the reasons why I feel this way.
- It doesn’t identify the root cause, the biggest culprit contributing to mistreatment of girl child, misogamist outlook pervading our society: our idea of feminism. We, as a society, through our parents have been brining up girl child as someone who needs support, a help, a hand, a crutch! Oh, you can’t go out alone, it is dangerous, always go out with your father, your brother, or your uncle or some male! All through the movie (as a reflection of the current thinking) the younger brother is sent along with her everywhere! We just can’t either trust our children, or the society!
- What causes a metamorphosis of a human being? Is it just the cultural shock that jolted her into complete independence? When she does become independent, is it out of reckless abandonment of boundaries or is it through reflection and self awareness? The change that she undergoes could not have just happened because of external factors, it needs to come from within. This, I believe, was not clearly depicted.
- For god’s sake why did she have to say “Thank you!” to the guy at the end!?!? It is not because of HIM that she changed, he was just an instrument! It is like thanking the tumbler for quenching your thirst, whereas it was the water. If you have water, the vessel doesn’t matter. He was just such a ‘tool’ (pun intended). By attributing her change, even to the minutest level, to him defeats the whole idea of the metamorphosis. SHE is independent, a fully functional social being, without the need of a male to bring about anything in her life, let along change.
Until we all can treat each person as a human being, independent of their race, creed, culture, sex and orientation, we won’t achieve the lofty aims of Human Charter.
Before email became the norm, hand written mails were the principal mode of written communication adopted equally by common man and royalty alike. Prominent people of the society not only conducted regular business through this way but also used it for matters of confidence. The published letters of quite a few leaders and scientists have caused much interest. The discovery of hitherto unpublished correspondence is nothing short of a sensation in itself.
If that’s the way public treats letters already written and sent to someone else, imagine what would happen if we were to discover the load of text that never got completed! Perhaps they were rough ideas, unfinished and incomplete thoughts. Imagine how many parchments would have been wasted on writing love letters from any of the real life counterparts of Romeo and Juliet? Imagine if we could lady our hands on letters from Scottish leaders to their English Lords asking them to shut it, but afraid to start off a new war, just wrote them to expend their frustrations and shelved it. Or imagine if a famous contemporary of Galileo wanted to defend his ideas but couldn’t finish it or thought better off it!
Now look at all the drafts saved in your emails and blogs and SMSes and think what will happen if the world comes to know of them all?
A lot has changed since the last time I posted. I’ve moved to another country and we welcomed a new family member into our fold, the latest bud of a leaf. While this doesn’t exonerate me from my responsibility to post, at least I’ve an alibi.
As always, I’ll try to make another fresh start.
Self Portrait of Curiosity
Self portrait by Curiosity
See that landscape? It looks like straight out of a sci-fi movie! Does it look any different from ours? Without knowing that this is from Mars, given only portions of this photo, it is so easy to mistake it for some desert landscape from our own planet.
See the sky? Looks a bit cloudy and as if it is going to rain. See that black streak under the small hilltop? Looks like an ancient river left its imprints there, the alluvial soil just waiting for the right conditions to sprout some plants. It seems as if just round the edge of this hilltop, you will find some plants and shrubs! Look at the sand at its feet! Imagine it running through your hands…. Martian sand!
Do you also see the sharp contrast in color between the two edges of the composite? It is of course obvious that these were taken at different times, but imagine living in such a contrasting environment!
It gives me the goosebumps just imagining these things, sitting here, that this image has been taken at least an average distance of 225 million km.
I keep losing them.
I was very careful the last time.
Looked hard at the place I was keeping them.
Even put a bit of background story for them.
But still I can’t find them.
The funny part is everyone else around me seems to remember!
They know what I was looking for!
They keep telling me but I just can’t place them.
They even show me pictures!
I keenly look at all of them.
But the problem is I don’t even know what I am looking for.
They’re all lost.
People keep telling me what they are.
It seems they’re called memories.
I don’t know what they are,
And where I’ve kept them.