smoke and mirrors. lost and found.

what price, insight?

if a slowly ripening cynicism, recognizing that life has jagged edges and glossed over cracks in unexpected places is a sign of growing up, then i am yet to attain it. if the test of good writing is in its capacity to jolt one out of mental and moral complacence, then lisa moore's collection of ten short stories 'open' more than sufficiently does so.

i uncover each sentence like a secret bar of chocolate, to be savored till it melts away. i don't want the book to end. the sharpness and uncomfortable honesty of her prose threatens to distort the benign image of the adult world that i still defend. yet, all the cruelty and sadness and flashes of love and tenderness that she writes about with unsentimental detachment, is what makes this unforgettable. reminds me of a nell freudenberger story 'the tutor' that i had read in Granta-82 once and could not get out of my mind hence. an interview here.




from 'Craving':


i realise now, totally zonked that i have always believed the flaws of men are born of a stupidity for which they, men, can't be held accountable. i recognize in a flash that all my relations with men have been guided by this generous and condescending premise. i see now that the theory comes from the lack of courage required to face the truth, which is that men are pricks.
they're aware women like me exist, women who believe they have been shafted in terms of a moral spine, and these men welcome these women's low opinions of themselves, and capitalize on it.


and later;


i have forsaken the promises of our adolescence; hiding near the warm tires of parked cars while playing spotlight at dusk, holding still while curling irons burn our scalps, splashes of silver raining from the disco balls in the parish hall, mashed banana emollients, face scrubs with twigs and bits of apricot, ears pierced with an ice cube and sewing needle, and the disquieting loss of a belief in God. the saturated aura, a kinetic field of blue light, that surrounded a silent phone while we willed it to ring. our periods. dusk, all by itself, dusk, walking home from school after a volleyball game and the light withdrawing from the pavement. 
i look at my husband, i try to feel dissatisfied but i can't, he is a beautiful man.

what price, philosoppy?

turned over a new leaf. getting crinkly around the edges.

what price, TV?

what is wrong with national television?
if after a hard day's hard labour, an honest tax-paying citizen can't come home and watch some TV, what is the point of life? so very pointless.

i switch on the TV in the hopes of getting some suitably mind-numbing entertainment. something that would soothe my frayed nerves and make everything else seem less terrible by comparison, and what do i get? crime against humanity perpetrated without any shame or remorse. has PETA nothing to say about this? is no one willing to pose nude to highlight the plight of the imprisoned modern woman?

the first sight that greets mine tired eyes is a constipated looking tusshar kapoor serenading an even more constipated amrita arora (?or rao?) with a totally constipated song by some constipated lyricist about badals and pani and their respective colours.

my defense mechanism kicks in and delivers a shot of pure adrenalin to my fingers which in turn helps me switch channels before i die of disgust.

and what do i see?

that normally wholesome asin in a dangerously short skirt executing moves that threaten a wardrobe malfunction with the dabanng khan in a very prabhu deva song with very prabhu deva choreography.

the next panicked channel change does not bode well either. promo for some movie proclaiming itself ‘india’s first 3D film’. must serve chills of spine tingling proportions if the hero’s face is anything to go by. what could be more horrific than a man who looks like a badly shaved potato?only himmesh reshammiya. but that is another horror story.

the only saving grace was the promo for the kiddie movie ‘stanley ka dabba’ which shows some very real looking kids eating some very real looking food and a suitably pervy looking schoolmaster. I am buying a ticket.

what price, beauty?

god,

in case what these new-age religion guys are saying is true, and in case there is some chance of reincarnation at all, note this request - i want to be reincarnated as sade.

thank you.

clash of the titans

epic fight for the remote begins. the gorilla is home.

lawless

there are some upsides to being out of action.

what could be more comforting than to have many cups of strong coffee, nice things to eat and some quality low-brow entertainment? nothing. its been ages since i descended into debauchery of such magnitude, but how i loved it. a long string of cameron diaz movies courtesy the pest, and i was set for the day. of which were the disgusting 'there's something about mary' and the rather insightful 'in her shoes' and the unexpectedly fun 'the holiday'. the unexpected fun bit about it being a certain delightful mr.law.
 
in a sea of misguided metrosexuals, thank god for jude law's unshaven chest. any number of nanny-indiscretions are forgivable if one is so horribly hot.

romeo must die

prrft!!
phtoo!!
phooey!!

what i really can do with is the invisibility cloak. it would have been so much more convenient if we could choose who paid attention to us, when and how much.
if i were truly honest, and if i were truly brave, and if i had half the deadpanning ability of sue townsend, my diaries would be a much better chronicle of a career loser's miserable days. but, like most of the species, i have near-perfected the survival tactic of self-evasion. i'm now so adept at the art of whitewashing unseemly blemishes of character and glossing over stains of self-loathing that i would make a very competent self-help guru. i should probably write the tome 'stay delusional, stay happy'. 

how to win friends and influence people

responses to an essay prompt '__ has just started out at a new school where he knows noone. the children here are not as friendly as at his old school and he had to have lunch all by himself in the first week. during his second week, however, another child who seemed nice sat with him. later, in PT class, __ noticed a lot of the other kids making fun of his new friend for being overweight and calling him unkind names. __ wants to fit in and make friends, but he also does not want to hurt his new friend. what should __ do? what would you do? have you ever been in a situation where somebody was laughing at a person you care about? what would you do?'

 .....................................................................

• for getting new friends, you needs to earn respect by getting 1st in class in studies and sports. 
• you should throw little parties, give people presents and help them out in studies, homework and classwork. maintain your physique and become smart.
• have proper manners and become sophisticated. 
• do not break into fights, tease people or call them names.
• for getting respect from teachers, you need to be polite, good-looking (hair combed, nails cut and in discipline) 
• remember that 'first impression is the last impression'.

please don't take it personally. after all, it is only my opinion based.

....................................................................

if i were him, i would not try to make friends so fast. i would do it slowly, so that it happens properly. if i were a new boy, i would feel very happy if old students would have sat next to me, as that would mean that people are starting to get comfortable with me around them.
if the children of my school make fun of my friend, i would not mind them at this time, as they are not making fun of me. 
later on, i would spend more time in making friends one at a time, as this would easier, and i would automatically be friends with the person i had previously befriended. this process will take some time.

....................................................................

if anyone is teasing my new friend, i would go to him and tell him don't lose courage, everything will be o.k. i would try to make him happy by telling a joke or something and say something to distract him from the teasing. when he has gathered enough courage to resist the teasing, i would tell him to just ignore them.


well, from my real life experience, i am sure that they would stop teasing him, but still some people might not stop. so, the next step is to try and make friends with them and then to tell them that what they are doing is not right. the difficult part is to make friends with them but still not make my friend feel that i am teaming up with the others and that he will be left out.

....................................................................

when they were making fun of his new friend, he felt stuck in the middle of the 'making friends scale'. he wants to make new friends, but he also wants to stay friends with the persons who first came to shake hands.
if you want to know what i would do, here it is-
1) i would try to talk to a few people who seem nice and explain to them that you cannot make friends seeing how fat or skinny people are.


after they understand, it is time for number 2.
2) i would tell the people who understood to tell their friends. and soon, everyone will be friends with each other.
3) if they still don't understand, i would take charge, and tell people that it is not nice to be mean to people.


if people still don't understand, then i don't have any other plans. if people don't agree, they are heartless and very bitter. people who understand are sensitive to things.

....................................................................

i experienced this when my father was learning to drive. he had to park his car, taking a reverse. his car touched the bumper of a rickshaw. the rickshaw driver started shouting at my father and he said that you and your father are fools. if you don't know how to drive a car why are you driving? other people started laughing and the rickshaw man shouted at my father to pay me, pay me.


when they were shouting and laughing at my father i felt that i should tell them how bad it feels when people laugh at you when you make a mistake. but i could not, because they are adults who are stronger than me, and it could be injurious to me.

....................................................................

the complex, cruel labyrinth that childhoods are lived in. 

only adults can think with fond, selective amnesia about the innocence of childhood. the intrigues, rivalries, griefs and betrayals of childhood are that much fiercer because it is in many ways the hurts of a community that is voiceless in the midst of all the love.

god let me never lose sight of this.

not(e) perfect

where do the memories of music dwell?
when are wherefore they choose to come calling again are so unbidden and so welcome.

this entire evening spent listening to Sade's smoky, grainy yet smooth voice singing Smooth Operator, over and over again.

the possibilities of such a voice and endless. one could smoulder one's way out of practically anything, with such a voice.

profound platitude to placate peeved people

how wonderful is the world. god sure is very clever.
there is always a saturday after a friday and a sunday after a saturday. perfect world.

perfect, that is, till sunday, which is hatefully followed by a monday.