!

I would usually avoid talking about a subject like this on a blog that was meant for... other things. But this is something I feel really strongly about, so I thought it would be worth mentioning here. This is a note I had written for a project started by my boss to get his employees to 'use their brains' (that's a direct quote).
Read on.

26th July 2009: On the same day that there were reports of three instances of rape of minors in the country, there were also reports of Samajwadi Party MP Kamal Akhtar’s statement that reality TV shows in India were attacking family values in India and promoting obscenity.

This is not the first time, nor will it be the last that the quality of media content in India has been questioned. The content on the Star Plus show ‘Sach ka Saamna’ was called ‘objectionable’, ‘indecent’ and ‘not in good taste’ by various politicians and social activists. Yet not one of these people will use their political clout to address a far greater problem than our media content.

Those fighting to preserve India’s moral code should consider the fact that the rape of one Indian woman every half an hour is an extremely ‘offensive’ statistic. On an international women’s website, it was called ‘India’s Rape Pandemic’. While the media content issue was immediately addressed with a meeting of the I&B Ministry and TV Broadcasters to discuss how best to solve the problem, the issue of crimes against women in India has become so commonplace that it has ceased to shock the public or even warrant much space in the media.

From an objective viewpoint, there is something clearly wrong with a country that cannot tackle such a widespread attack on its female population and dismisses it with comments from government representatives such as, “Women dress so indecently these days, they ask for trouble” (Shiv Sena comment through Saamna newspaper). In the most bizarre cases, women are made to marry their rapists in order to sanctify their union which subjects them to further sexual abuse.

Kamal Akhtar is worried that our family values and morals are being eroded by a TV show that forces participants to tell the truth, no matter how hurtful or painful it may be. Perhaps if we all were being honest, we would see that Indian society is already obscene, indecent and offensive. We've just been keeping it behind closed doors instead of talking about it on national television.

To all the ones they've loved before

From the time your friends start dating, it is expected that you make an effort to get to know their 'significant' others, even if the relationships live for a shorter time than goldfish do.

The first few times, you don't mind.
It's his first girlfriend, her first boyfriend, and you care enough to make everyone happy.

But somewhere along the way, the numbers add up. And when you consider that some people go through boyfriends/girlfriends like they would library books, the enthusiasm dies out.

I have met some really great people that figured in the friends' significant others category. I liked some of them well enough to hang out once in a while; I liked others enough to really appreciate them for who they were, rather than what they were to someone in my life; and there are two or three for whom I felt real regret when the relationships ended, and I lost a friend.

The rules of friendship, ethics and all that is cruel but true, demand that when the relationship ends, so does the association with the significant other.

I have broken this rule once, and never regretted it.
But to all the others that were just not worth the risk of breaking the rules again,
I miss you. It was great knowing you, and thanks for everything.

Basic Premise

If the truth of our lives is based not on the facts, but on what we feel and experience - then I have missed a million opportunities to catch a glimpse of honesty.

Rote Learning

I know that all good things do not end badly.
I know that all siblings do not fight over property after their parents die.
I know some friendships last forever and ever.
I know that all men don't cheat.
I know that you don't always get shit on by a bird on your way to somewhere important.
I know that bad dreams usually don't come true.
I know that all food that looks and smells great does not necessarily taste good too.
I know that just because someone made a mistake once, it does not definitively mean they will repeat it.
I know...

Now I just need to believe.

What's your name again?

There is a man who has the capacity to brighten up my day, no matter how absolutely dismal it has been.

And I don't know his name.

Since I was eight years old I have met him in the street and we've smiled at each other. At first it was just a 'oh yes, you're familiar' sort of smile. But somewhere along the way, it grew to the beaming 'you're familiar, and for some unfathomable reason you make me feel happy' kind.

I watched him walk hand in hand with his granddaughter, leading her first few tentative steps. I watched him take her to school, buy the groceries, or cautiously hold his wife's elbow to make sure she didn't trip on the ever treacherous 'just tarred' road.

When I met him last evening, we both stopped short in shock, and delight! We hadn't seen in each other in more than six months, and I had well and truly missed him. He had moved from the house a few blocks away from mine and was therefore no longer seen around the neighbourhood.

We had a conversation that lasted for a good ten minutes; both of us standing in the pouring rain under umbrellas that protected us from nothing. But we didn't cut short on catching up on each others lives.

I only realised when I overheard him tell his wife in Tamil that I was 'that Vieira-girl from the green house' that he didn't know my name. And even more surprising, I hadn't a clue what his was either!

But after so many years, it's not polite to bring up these minor details. So he continued on his way and I continued on mine. And I know that each of us was happier knowing that we had been missed, even if it was by a relative stranger.

Through the Looking Glass

They keep saying how brave I was. How courageous. How strong.

And I can always hear you laughing in the background

Because you were there, when it all fell apart.

To girls that have all the potential in the world to be kitty party-going, diamond buying, high-flying, shallow, men-obsessed, noisy, flighty airheads - but aren't.

Thank you for being one of life's pleasant surprises.

Keep it simple, stupid.

I like it when things are what they are.

When they're not masquerading as something else, or you need to spend five minutes thinking about intent, metaphor or hidden meaning.

I like plays that I can understand, and books that can make me laugh and think and cry without wondering what it is actually all about.

I like poems that have a point, not annoyingly rhyming ones - those are still stupid. But ones that lead somewhere, not wander off and leave you wondering if the poet died mid-sentence.

I like brevity and simplicity and I wish people would understand that sometimes it's harder to find than things that are 'deep'.

I like when people say what they think and are not waiting for you to figure out their implications.

And I refuse to apologise for it anymore.