Rewinding the reel....

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It was only yesterday. Or was it ? Memories came thick and fast. Some vivid, some hazy. Like smoke; only to fade away into thin air. Disappear and yet be present somewhere in the background. 

Boredom does strange things to people; it revived the nostalgia for us. In a fit of boredom and in the lap of an empty nest, my husband and I viewed our marriage videocassette after two decades. Even though it was converted into a CD by our son, we had restrained from viewing it. Why, I am not sure. Perhaps due to an unfortunate incident which followed our marriage. So when the husband said, "It will be an adventure, lets  hold hands and watch the CD together," I was game.

I prefer to close doors on bad memories or shove them under a veil of assumed amnesia. My husband however, believes that suffering and pain are healers. If they are dealt with effectively, they cleanse our subconscious and make us happy. No wonder he enjoys listening to ‘sad songs' by Rafi,. Yes, even when all is well and the sun is shining brightly. It makes him happy. How, I don’t know. I however, do not prescribe to his philosophy and avoid going down those painful lanes.

Even though I had viewed our marriage photographs taken with the Fuji camera several times, watching the  marriage proceedings  in action was an emotional roller coaster. It evoked countless memories. If you’re a woman, then the first thing you notice in your old picture is your appearance. Given a choice, I would never wear the same heavy dress which did nothing to accentuate the figure of a young bride. The next shocker was the make-up! It was hardly there. And whatever was there was 'puraane zamaane ka'. My two aunts had painstakingly festooned my forehead with multicolored dots. And the huge nose ring? I could have walked straight out of Jodha Akbar’s set. Arghh…it had hurt so much. Not to mention the crimson shade my nose had acquired. 

Immediately after the self-flagellation, I embarked on a self- admiration soiree. The kohl lined almonds with thick lashes sans mascara looked mesmerizing.  Why do eyes shrink with age? Damn, the wrinkles! Why do they have to show up uninvited? Why doesn’t the waist-line retain its slender glory? The ravages of time are unsparing. Not even if we are ‘worth it’.

It was amusing to watch my friends and cousins fussing around me, hovering like mother hens. Why the fuss? I was perfectly confident of holding my twenty kg lehnga on a forty five kg frame. Then I started recalling  old acquaintances,  “Did you see her? She was my college friend? Did you see that uncle? He was our neighbor.” I felt my throat tighten instinctively as I saw my grandmother sitting pristine in white, watching all the proceedings without a hint of tiredness. Also, I couldn’t help but ache as I noticed that in a matter of two decades my own mother has aged considerably. In the pictures she appeared gorgeous, nattily managing the guests in her stilettos. And only yesterday, she was complaining of knee pain. 

Then I saw my smiling dad welcoming the baaratis.  Promptly my eyes welled-up and a stab of pain went down the heart. Why do people leave never to return? Not even once! Just for that warm reassuring hug? Watching him on the television in that moment, I could almost picture him entering my living room and caressing my head.

From the corner of my moist eyes, I noticed that my husband was looking at his own father rather wistfully. “You are lucky”, he said. “You have your mother; I lost both of them.” In the pictures on television however, the groom dressed in a white achkan was laughing and jesting with his office colleagues. He appeared happy enough for the entire state of Delhi. Why doesn’t he laugh as often? But then, who am I to complain.  Even I don’t giggle anymore. 

We suddenly fell into silence. To lighten the mood the husband playfully remarked, “It was such an important event. Why wasn’t our son present at our wedding?’

“If he was there that day, perhaps you wouldn’t have agreed to marry me in the first place.”

And we both laughed. 
The adventure turned out to be a miracle.Why? Because that day I learned to overcome my grief of two decades.

Running in Circles

Have you noticed that the more things change, the more they remain the same? And the more we take the desperate way out to escape our lot in life, the more we learn that we are not better off. The thought takes me back to one of my old posts which had a story about two tear drops.

 Once, two tear drops were floating down the river of life. One teardrop asked, “Who are you?” The first one replied, “I was shed by a girl who loved a man but lost him. And who are you?” The other tear drop replied, “I was shed by the girl who got him.”

Come to think of it, we cry over what we lose and often cry over what we gain. Always in the pursuit of some more, it is this very pursuit which lays the foundation for discontentment. When I am about to fall in the trap of …. “I’ll feel good when I achieve a particular objective,” I keep reminding myself that my desired objective which I think will bring happiness can be lost again, and therefore it holds the potential to cause pain. Yet, more often than not, I keep falling in the same trap. 

Now that I am thinking about it, Paulo Coelho’s ‘The Alchemist’, ‘Veronica decides to die’ and ‘The Winner stands Alone’ were based on the similar premise. I recently read this story in ‘The Mail Today’ by Paulo.  I wanted to share it. Ignore it if you have read it before.

 Many years ago there was a young man named Mogo who earned his living by   breaking stones. Even though he was born with amazing strength, he was unhappy about his work and complained regularly. He blasphemed against God’s plan so much that one day an angel appeared. The angel said, “You are healthy and have a life ahead of you. All young people begin their lives with hard work as you have. Why are you complaining?’

Mogo said, “God was unfair to me. He did not give me the opportunity to grow.” Worried the angel went to the Lord who said “Whatever Mogo wants, give it to him.”

The next day when Mogo was breaking stones, he saw a carriage pass by which had a noble inside it. Mogo said with bitterness, “Why can’t I be a noble person too?”

Soon Mogo was transformed into a master of sprawling castle, with servants and plenty of land. He walked outside his palace with his entourage and enjoyed watching his old friends lining the streets, staring up at him with respect.

One of these days, the heat was inescapable and even under his gold umbrella Mogo was sweating; more than he would during his stone breaking days. He realized that he wasn’t as important, as above him there were the king, and the sun; who did not bow to anyone. Mogo grumbled, “Why can’t I be the sun? That should have been my destiny.”

And thus Mogo became the sun. While   Mogo was sparkling as the sun, admiring his powers to grow or destroy the crops depending on his whims, a cloud covered his view. As the cloud encompassed Mogo, he got furious and said, “My destiny should have been that of a cloud.”

And soon Mogo was transformed in a cloud. Mogo was now delighted as he blocked the sun and followed the waves shouting loudly, “I am invincible.”

Along the seashore stood a rock, as old as the world itself. Mogo thought that the rock was defying him and so he unleashed an enormous storm. A storm that the world had not seen before. But the rock stood firm and impassable, almost mocking Mogo.

Now Mogo wanted to become the rock. The angel transformed him into a rock and Mogo thought, “I am the most powerful in the world.”

And this is how he spent several years, until one morning Mogo felt a sharp stab of pain deep inside his gut. He felt several thuds and immense pain. Mogo cried, “Angel, someone powerful is trying to kill me. I want to be like him.”

Soon Mogo returned to his previous life of cutting stones.

Often we keep running in circles. This is not to say that ambition is unwarranted. Ambition is good; but hopeless infatuation with all the good that’s happening in the lives of others is not. Contentment at some level paves the way for that much desired and elusive emotion – happiness.

Let Me Break Some Wind Please

It is said that if a person breaks wind on social media, a whole bunch of people queue outside the loo! The medium is that viral!

The final arbiter of what is permissible on social media, the cherubic Satyawadi Kapilchandra who displayed brilliant mathematical abilities when he arrived at the famous zero sum loss, in all his wisdom has scored a self- goal. Well, allegedly his goddess was ridiculed in a cartoon which depicted her as the puppeteer. No points for guessing who the puppet was. Hence the minister in typical Inspector Clouseau clumsiness is all set to introduce new set of rules to monitor internet content. This hasty move has the whole world searching for his goddess on Facebook, to see what offends him. He of all the people should know that  if one needs to popularize something, the best way is to ban it.

There are three main questions to moot. Firstly, it is imperative to gauge the intent of the government. What has upset most netizens is the way they have  gone about it - summoning Face book officials in a clandestine manner.

Second question remains, who decides what is objectionable? For China statements from Dalai Lama could be objectionable and for Pakistan statements from the Shiv Sena. All sane netizens however, will support some sort of regulation or screening of morphed pictures which are in bad taste and unwarranted. Also, no one is denying the fact that content which offends religious sensibilities and threatens national security should be screened and monitored. I guess, it is already being done. Even in Thailand, Google restricted access to 90% of 225 You Tube videos for allegedly insulting the monarchy, which is against the Thai laws. However, in India Google mainly received requests to remove blogs and videos that were critical of ministers and government officials.

Having said that, Kapil Muni should have been upfront and said, “My leader has been insulted and slanderous content about her should be removed.” Instead, in all his sanctimonious wisdom he said, “We will not allow our cultural ethos to suffer….we have to take care of the sensibilities of the people.”  Why is the cherubic telecom angel wielding the moral danda? Wasn’t moral policing the job of the BJP? Why bring religion in the debate?

And finally, it is humanly impossible to pre-screen content coming from 2.5 million Indian users on Facebook. Ankit Fadia, the computer hacker says that there is no technology which can detect sarcasm or monitor cartoons. Also, anyone sitting in a remote island can still use the internet for dubious purposes. 

Social media is one big adda, like the erstwhile paan ki dukaan, where people air opinions and vent frustration. It is not to be taken seriously by powerful egos. Offensive comments are to be ignored. If they still persist, people can block them and report abuse. Finally the IT act of 2000 is in place for filing police complaints against the tormentor. Any complaint under the  act should be  strictly dealt with. It will act as a deterrent for anonymous abuse and hate groups. Here is another thing about internet; it is a hydra headed monster. You cut one of its arms; it grows another. So it is imperative to learn to manage it.  To your advantage. If you suppress it, it emerges with double the vengeance.

It was Obama who said that suppressing ideas never succeeds in making them go away. Yet I feel ‘freedom’ is so much easier to preach than practice. Obama learnt it the hard way, after the Wiki leaks episode.So my humble request to the venerable minister is to allow me to break some wind on my status and blog. It is cathartic. It cures flatulence brewing against corruption and mis-governance. In fact he should try it. Achha lagega. 

 (I hope the Dabang minister does not say , " Hum tumahare mein itne ched kar denge......)