Friday, December 20, 2013

For all those creating, inventing, re-inventing anything under the sun, including themselves.


I was re-reading Booker prize-winning author Ben Okri's 'Astonishing the Gods' the other day and came across a section that seems appropriate for people brave and curious enough to blaze their own trail and yet human enough to experience moments of short-lived aloneness and apprehensions. The symbolism embedded in his words is as delicate as it is powerful that I feel compelled to share it:

... 
The bridge, completely suspended in the air, held up by nothing that he could see, was a dazzling construct, composed entirely of mist...made of light, of air, of feelings...
'What holds up the bridge?' he asked his guide.
'Only the person crossing it,' came the reply.
'You mean that if I am to cross the bridge I must at the same time hold it up, keep it suspended?'
'Yes.'
'But how can I do both at the same time?'
'If you want to cross over you must. There is no other way.'
...
'But if I am heavy will the bridge bear me?'
'If you can bear yourself, the bridge too can bear you.'
'And I must cross this bridge?'
'Yes, you must cross the bridge.'
'And if I do not cross?'
...
'I assure you, it is better to try to cross that bridge and fail, than not to try at all.'
...
When he did look back,...he found himself at the end of the most magnificent bridge...He thought of it as the bridge of self-discovery...When he looked back, he was astonished to find that the bridge had disappeared...[H]e had somehow managed to walk across emptiness... 
[T]ouched with a magical humility, he realised the nature of the small miracle he had enacted in his life.

-- Excerpted with awe and care from 'Astonishing the Gods' by Ben Okri and published by Little, Brown & Company (1995).

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Protest songs

Oh, where have the years flown?
 
I may not have any photographs with me to chronicle my journey, but my life in years just opened up as I unpacked a battered box full of tapes and CDs -- the earliest music tapes from about 30 years ago.  My first set of protest songs -- received as a gift from S for writing my first angry feminist poem (printed under Julie's name on the back cover of a major international women's conference proceedings and lost from my own files now) -- with songs of Donovan Leitch, Joan Baez, Pete Seeger, Bob Marley, John Lennon...There are a few sad-sounding songs in Spanish too (from Nicaragua? Ecuador?) How I cared for this tape and worried I would lose it or tape over it (yes, the two squares at the bottom are carefully broken to prevent that from happening). 


Then I did not know that 'Universal soldier' was written by Canadian Buffy Sainte-Marie.  Here is Donovan's rendition.


Catch the Wind by Donovan.

Pete Seeger singing 'What did you learn in school today?'


John Lennon singing 'If you had the luck of the Irish.'

Farewell Angelina by Baez. 

Baez at her saddest and best in "Cambodia" brings a flood of tears from such a long time ago for me.
  
If I ever have a chance to go back in time and do a PhD all over again, it will be in figuring out why protest songs move you in such a powerful way.  

Here is a page dedicated to protest songs in Russia.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

God

An old favorite of mine is Tori Amos' 'God'.

God sometimes you just don't come through
God sometimes you just don't come through
Do you need a woman to look after you?
God sometimes you just don't come through.
 And a friend commented that she supposes God is a man...

I wanted to respond that Tori's 1994 video for this song was shot inside a Karni Mata temple; that while her dad is a Reverend (United Methodist), she explored pantheistic religions through her paternal grandfather, and by the way, what leads my friend to assume that Tori's God is a patriarch (don't women with power need looking after too?).  

Instead I just offered John Lennon's response.   Nothing as powerful as Lennon's lyrics to herd all of us cats...

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Kid speak -- Part One



Divya: Rahul, you put water in my eye!

Rahul: Well, just spit it out of your eye!

Mom (fascinated): Spit it out?

Rahul (correcting self): Well, just drop it out of your eye, Divya!

****

Rahul had his hand on the window (glass) of the car and was pressing the power-window button up, down, up, down, with the other.

Mom: Whatcha doin', Rahul?

Rahul: Nothing. Just giving my hand a ride.

****

Rahul: Is a documentary a dictionary on TV?

****

Divya: Are people the best animals?

****

Rahul (at 6 years of age): You look too cool, Mommy. Like a rock star!

****

Dad (loading the dishwasher): Rahul, can you bring the glasses from the living room?

Rahul (cheekily) brings his eye glasses that he hates to wear.

****

Lekha: Do you want pepperoni?  Or pepper only?

****


Divya: If you eat yourself, will you be inside out?

****

Rahul (at 5&1/2 years of age; impatient for Mom's attention to turn to him): It is boring to hear about Lekha's and Divya's dreams. It is fun when you listen to my dreams.  

****

Rahul: Is that a thinking job or a doing job?

****

Rahul: What is that thing in the hotel room that you and Daddy kept your computer?

Mom: A safe?

Rahul: Yes, and I think my memory is in a safe.

****

       

Friday, November 1, 2013

The Ethics of Aesthetics


The caption says, "30 unique photographs from 1959. Christian Dior in Moscow."
 

And somehow these photographs make me sad, sad, sad. Audrey Hepburns strategically inserted into the pages of 'Soviet Woman' for the sole reason of breathing life into the Hepburns alone.  No give; just take.  

Perhaps not as obviously stark and troubling as malnourished, bow-legged, rheumy-eyed children in remote villages serving as backdrop extras, but the ultimate effect belongs in the category of deprived people serving as props to sell a lifestyle that they could not attain at that time and in that space.  

The cringe-worthiness is made worse when I wonder, 'Did they know exactly what they were doing? Or did they not?'  

Which is more troubling? 
  

Monday, October 28, 2013

Mounds


By Lekha, age 11.

Halloween. Scary costumes and candy.  There are tons of candy choices at the store that it's a chore to pick.  What will you buy? I'll make it easy for you: Mounds.

I won't go on an on about the obvious, how Mounds are the best candy in the world, but I'll tell you why.  Mounds are the most delicious, mouth-filling, sweet, chocolaty candy in the universe!  Everyone loves Mounds.  There are different flavors like: milk chocolate and white chocolate, but I personally think the dark chocolate ones are the best.  Dark chocolate is very healthy, and these types of Mounds are filled with coconut which adds a sweetly unique touch of flavor. 

If you are an adult, go ahead and treat yourself to the rich, creamy chocolate!  If you are a kid, go to your parents right now and beg them for Mounds or money to buy them.  They make the best snacks.

Again, everyone enjoys Mounds.  Although I would recommend them to children mostly. Mounds are the perfect Halloween candy to give out.  The moment you drop the lovable treats into their bags, their impatient faces will melt into smiles at the deliciously tempting candy.

So in my opinion, as you already know, Mounds are the most fabulous, mouth-watering, tasty, craving pick. If you don't believe me, go ahead!  I know this very well.  That Mounds are the ultimate Halloween treat!

Saturday, August 31, 2013

Speaking in silences


Ketaki Chowkhani reflects on her experiences teaching caste in an upper caste school on Round Table India.   An 18-year old, 12th grade student approached her to help him out with a project on caste.  According to Chowkhani, the student, who was from an upper caste community, went to a school with only upper caste, and mostly middle class, students and teachers. Chowkhani was familiar with the school and its politics since she had studied there herself. "No one ever talked to us about caste there," she says.  "There was a resounding silence around it."  Chowkhani explained to the student that no one talked about caste in the school spaces because everyone was upper caste.

"This was of course, because caste was believed to be ascribed to only lower castes and Dalits and not upper castes, and that they seemed strangely absolved of any caste identity. The middle class, upper caste idea of castelessness was the prevalent norm there."
While I like how she explains the upper castes' version of castelessness, I disagree that no one talks about caste in places where upper caste privilege dominates. I have a slightly different take, hearing as I do, unintended, ubiquitous caste talk on all sides. Such conversations, seemingly innocent, involve foods, culture, festivals, bhajans, favorite singers, beloved music genres, party invitations, temple matters, gods and goddesses, thread ceremonies, mantras, planet positions, auspicious days, saints, holy books, scriptures, modern pilgrimages, who's who, favorite colleges, cool schools, professorial uncles' experiences, mannerisms, dialects, writings, readings, love stories, marriage ceremonies, naming ceremonies, thread ceremonies, death ceremonies, ideas of humor, preferences in silk, taste in jewellery, concept of beauty, cousins with US visas, nieces with IIM degrees, aunts bringing marriage proposals, grandfathers earning PHDs -- all topics that simultaneously exclude me, my kind and many more.

So I assert that people engage in caste talk all the time without being aware that they engage in caste talk all the time.  "How?," you may ask.

I can explain but you have to promise to experience my world, to carry my baggage, whole-heartedly, in order to understand.

Let me put it this way:

Have you ever fasted?  When you are fasting, especially in the beginning when you are learning how to fast effectively, have you ever thought to yourself that there are too many references to foods, beverages, aromas, food rituals, eating practices and routines in a normal day? Have you ever wondered how it is that you did not pay attention earlier to how often food innocently confronts you in your everyday life?

Likewise,
If you are a vegan who obsessively tries to avoid animal products, do you not find animal-based ingredients in every food label, restaurant offering, and meat-eating culture's norms?

Caste is like that. 

Just as,
Atheists can tell that our societies rely on too many God-based cultural references;
People struggling economically can understand that middle-class lives are full of activities that are money-based and consumption-based; that middle-class worries revolve around issues that matter only for those with some money;
Orphans can see that too many stories are rooted in mother's love and father's care;
Rationalists notice the extent to which superstitions rule all our lives;
Girls recognize exactly when boys have it easy;
The homeless in the city see buildings galore and yet know which doorways are off-limits to them and which benches in which parks are safe to sleep in;
Street children of the perpetually hungry can find perfectly edible foods thrown into garbage bins, 
Only a person born not into upper caste can tell you how many cultural norms and expectations are unavailable to him or her.  

When you are lower caste but move in upper caste circles, caste tends to be talked about under the umbrella of culture.  Rarely do we seem to notice or pay attention to it, at least not until major life events such as college admissions, marriage, babies, in-law visits take over lives.  In fact, people seem to not even be aware of this social capital that they have been given, without asking. Yet caste culture is omnipresent to those on the outside, living in the margins, looking in from the fringes through walls that let you see, watch, observe. But not touch, mingle, blend.

Walls. Glass walls. Fragile glass walls.  Yet, walls.