Christian Whine....
It's that time of the year and apart from the simuated snowflakes and the x'mas lights on my desktop - i ain't feeling cheery at all. The irony is that it's my favourite part of the year and it's something i've longed to enjoy with abandon. But then God has other plans for me.
I'm at the brink of a very important phase in my life and no matter how difficult it could be for me, everyone seems to have a solution. Only this morning my colleague catches me while i was feeling really low and said a few things that people in low phases look upto as a divine spark that He sends you to make sure you know that there are bigger things in motion.
But then when you're the ost depressed the profoundest things make the most sense and seem the most beautiful. Sample this:
Let us pray for wisdom. let us pause from thinking and empty our mind. Let us stopthe noise. in the silence let us listen to out heart. the heart which is buried alive. let us be still and wait and listen carefully. A sound from the deep, from below. A faint cry. A weak tappling. Distant mufled feelings from within. The cry for help.
We shall rescue the entombed heart. We shall bring it to the surface, to the light and the air. We shall nurse it and listen respectfuloly to its story. the heart's story of pain and suffocation, of darkeness and yearning. We shall help our feelings to live in the sun. Together again we shall find relief and joy.
Amen.
Thursday, December 23, 2004
Monday, December 20, 2004
Gulabi Aaina
We've discussed these issues, television has afeild day with it and it doesn't look like it's going to stop just yet. As i rummaged through the papers this afternoon i happened to see a vivid photograph. Full of colour and two drag queens. It isn't your regular To Wong Foo... but then again it's stirred up the cinema cesor board quite a bit.
Gulabi Aaina, a film about two drag queens, a gay man and thir quest for love, won the jury award for best feature at the Annial Fire Island Film Vdieo Festival in New York, but fialed to make a dent pass the censor board. Director Sudhir Raghavan, couldn't care less - "They've termed the film 'full of vulgarity and obscenity'. Well, not that Sudhir biting thedust really, Gulabi Aaina is a first in the seven part series of Rainbow Stories, in which Raghavan covers the spectrum of the Indian gay community.
It's quite a toughie to think that homosexuality has existed for ions in time - right where we live. In some parts of history it was a elevated position that took you to the inner sanctums of the ladies quarters in opulent palaces. The eunuchs were the trusted confidantes of the lonely princesses. Playmates that provided the right dose of empathy and mirth and also doubling up as the right bunch to keep evil eye away - human's with heavy makeup and shimmer.
Come further down the timeline and you'll see a drastic change in the representation. Closet, secretive and very groupie, homosexuality in India isn't a very open vibrant celebration. Unless you're extra rich, got nothing to lose and in the art-farty business - being gay is a pretty secretive thing. Very few people come out in the open, and despite the openess society shows today, funnily enough it will always be a masked acceptance of the way the world turns. not everyone who is aware of homosexuality is comfortable with it.
And so as Gulabi Aaina carries the story of human's in their own element to the opening night of Venezuala's first gay and lesbian film festival - we all sink back into our comfortable cocoons and sigh with relief that we can continue to lead blinkered existances - it's feels great to be blind.
Doesn't it?
Gulabi Aaina, a film about two drag queens, a gay man and thir quest for love, won the jury award for best feature at the Annial Fire Island Film Vdieo Festival in New York, but fialed to make a dent pass the censor board. Director Sudhir Raghavan, couldn't care less - "They've termed the film 'full of vulgarity and obscenity'. Well, not that Sudhir biting thedust really, Gulabi Aaina is a first in the seven part series of Rainbow Stories, in which Raghavan covers the spectrum of the Indian gay community.
It's quite a toughie to think that homosexuality has existed for ions in time - right where we live. In some parts of history it was a elevated position that took you to the inner sanctums of the ladies quarters in opulent palaces. The eunuchs were the trusted confidantes of the lonely princesses. Playmates that provided the right dose of empathy and mirth and also doubling up as the right bunch to keep evil eye away - human's with heavy makeup and shimmer.
Come further down the timeline and you'll see a drastic change in the representation. Closet, secretive and very groupie, homosexuality in India isn't a very open vibrant celebration. Unless you're extra rich, got nothing to lose and in the art-farty business - being gay is a pretty secretive thing. Very few people come out in the open, and despite the openess society shows today, funnily enough it will always be a masked acceptance of the way the world turns. not everyone who is aware of homosexuality is comfortable with it.
And so as Gulabi Aaina carries the story of human's in their own element to the opening night of Venezuala's first gay and lesbian film festival - we all sink back into our comfortable cocoons and sigh with relief that we can continue to lead blinkered existances - it's feels great to be blind.
Doesn't it?
Friday, December 10, 2004
The Morning After...
I'm pissed.
It isn't something i'm surprised with really - i end up feeling sorry for myself when i'm pissed and no matter how heavy the hints are - no one bites.
I didn't fight or anything i was just looking for someone to express what i was feeling - i just realized that the people i know, aren't the kind that listen - to me that is. I don't get empathy. Really! i don't. Most of the time i end up listening - i end up understanding the person's problems and i end up just listening and making the person feel - yeah - here's my punching bag. I'd completely agree with you if you asked me, "then why the hell don't you stop listening?" the truth in that question could send me reeling. But the truth from my end is - i can't stop listening. You wanna know why? It's because i constantly put myself in other people's shoes. I feel what they feel and i know that if they don't get someone to talk to - they just might burst. And so...i listen.
It could be about the football game, why he chose the red shoes over the brown, or something way more serious like how they're tired of the people they love, or why she's cheating on him - or you know one of those things. i listen, i don't judge and frankly i think that's a big step for me. I come from a family of sociopaths - where everything is scrutinised and everything is mentally judged and very difficult verdicts are passed. It's funny - i didn't pick up the habit. I'm happy - the smallest of things make the biggest of differences.
I'd love for someone to listen to me - i have so much speil boiling inside - it would take a strong pair of ears to listen. I wouldn't want them to talk to me - just listen. And if i fell really quiet i'd love for them to prod me with a word or two - and i'd continue - i'd rave, rant, wonder, laugh, reminisce and so on. It would be so great.
The funny thing is - i kinda know i'll never find anyone who'd really like to listen to me. The one's who'd like to; have their hands full already. i fantasise about meeting that one person who'd sit across from me and say - 'talk and i'll listen'. And the morning after - i'd cry - a grateful sob - where i'd be liberated from everything i've felt inside but could never communicate.
Just writing about it - makes me feel so charged. you can only imagine how it would be feel if it really happened.
It isn't something i'm surprised with really - i end up feeling sorry for myself when i'm pissed and no matter how heavy the hints are - no one bites.
I didn't fight or anything i was just looking for someone to express what i was feeling - i just realized that the people i know, aren't the kind that listen - to me that is. I don't get empathy. Really! i don't. Most of the time i end up listening - i end up understanding the person's problems and i end up just listening and making the person feel - yeah - here's my punching bag. I'd completely agree with you if you asked me, "then why the hell don't you stop listening?" the truth in that question could send me reeling. But the truth from my end is - i can't stop listening. You wanna know why? It's because i constantly put myself in other people's shoes. I feel what they feel and i know that if they don't get someone to talk to - they just might burst. And so...i listen.
It could be about the football game, why he chose the red shoes over the brown, or something way more serious like how they're tired of the people they love, or why she's cheating on him - or you know one of those things. i listen, i don't judge and frankly i think that's a big step for me. I come from a family of sociopaths - where everything is scrutinised and everything is mentally judged and very difficult verdicts are passed. It's funny - i didn't pick up the habit. I'm happy - the smallest of things make the biggest of differences.
I'd love for someone to listen to me - i have so much speil boiling inside - it would take a strong pair of ears to listen. I wouldn't want them to talk to me - just listen. And if i fell really quiet i'd love for them to prod me with a word or two - and i'd continue - i'd rave, rant, wonder, laugh, reminisce and so on. It would be so great.
The funny thing is - i kinda know i'll never find anyone who'd really like to listen to me. The one's who'd like to; have their hands full already. i fantasise about meeting that one person who'd sit across from me and say - 'talk and i'll listen'. And the morning after - i'd cry - a grateful sob - where i'd be liberated from everything i've felt inside but could never communicate.
Just writing about it - makes me feel so charged. you can only imagine how it would be feel if it really happened.
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
The Bubblegum Machine
That's right - spit it out whether you like it or not.
I've been having the most difficult time these past two months. For most other - i'm sure their problems suffice. But then again, when it's you're problem - it's the biggest and no one elses can get in the way. Even if it's medical emergency. We still find a way to make our problems bigger and better.
Being an indian woman isn't simple - you're walking the tight rope the moment you decide to live your own life. Either both your parents freak out - they make your life miserable and you either walk out (it's called social suicide in these here parts) and just do what you have to do or you suck it up and decide to give up your individuality and live by their rules. For most people this is an alien concept.
I'm in the middle of a small revolution, you know. I've just waged war with my mother - who believes she has sole control over my mind and body until i get married (that's another long story i don't even want to get into!). My father has been an angel in comparison. I could thank God for my father's early experiences in life and his ability to exercise his cognitive rights and own mind - which has helped me immensely in maintaining a sense of sane. I am who i am primarily because he let me - otherwise i would have been a mindless mother of two plotting out their future marriages to non-existent rich families. Eyuck!
Right, so now that's out of the way...
Welcome to the bubblegum machine - where everyone is a gumball - stuck in a deliciously crowded globe. Where colours jostle with each other for the exit ---- waiting for that one coin that will spit them out into freedom. That's the catch.
It's a gamble for a gumball! And it's gamble for the man with the coin - he always wants the red one. he doesn't know which one's goiing ot make it out of there and none of the gumballs know which one of them gets sucked into the open air and into a generous masticating mouth.
And so your soar - out of the globe and into another trap - where much to your shock and disdain - you're crushed - the colour sucked out of you, your sweetness liberated unto someone elses tongue. you morph - metapmorphise into a shapeless, sticky piece of gum, gray and rubber bandy - splayed out, stretched, chewed, pulled and then - SPLAT.
That's life, that's the beauty - that's the way the gum is chewed.
Now who wants to stay inside?
I've been having the most difficult time these past two months. For most other - i'm sure their problems suffice. But then again, when it's you're problem - it's the biggest and no one elses can get in the way. Even if it's medical emergency. We still find a way to make our problems bigger and better.
Being an indian woman isn't simple - you're walking the tight rope the moment you decide to live your own life. Either both your parents freak out - they make your life miserable and you either walk out (it's called social suicide in these here parts) and just do what you have to do or you suck it up and decide to give up your individuality and live by their rules. For most people this is an alien concept.
I'm in the middle of a small revolution, you know. I've just waged war with my mother - who believes she has sole control over my mind and body until i get married (that's another long story i don't even want to get into!). My father has been an angel in comparison. I could thank God for my father's early experiences in life and his ability to exercise his cognitive rights and own mind - which has helped me immensely in maintaining a sense of sane. I am who i am primarily because he let me - otherwise i would have been a mindless mother of two plotting out their future marriages to non-existent rich families. Eyuck!
Right, so now that's out of the way...
Welcome to the bubblegum machine - where everyone is a gumball - stuck in a deliciously crowded globe. Where colours jostle with each other for the exit ---- waiting for that one coin that will spit them out into freedom. That's the catch.
It's a gamble for a gumball! And it's gamble for the man with the coin - he always wants the red one. he doesn't know which one's goiing ot make it out of there and none of the gumballs know which one of them gets sucked into the open air and into a generous masticating mouth.
And so your soar - out of the globe and into another trap - where much to your shock and disdain - you're crushed - the colour sucked out of you, your sweetness liberated unto someone elses tongue. you morph - metapmorphise into a shapeless, sticky piece of gum, gray and rubber bandy - splayed out, stretched, chewed, pulled and then - SPLAT.
That's life, that's the beauty - that's the way the gum is chewed.
Now who wants to stay inside?
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Work the Blues
It's funny how you think you'd like to be young again. You go through life wondering when you'd beat the height and maturity levels that kept you from doing the things you want to do and then BAM! it happens - and you're not so kicked about being where you are and what you're doing. True, you do come to terms with your so called success - everyone's measring it for you - diligently, i might add - and it's hard to miss the analysis. It's constantly being thrown in your face.
You read everything - it's about you and you're fine print and well...you realize - and it's late mind you - that you're out of it from the start. You've never been in control and most of the time - it's just someone else pronging you in the behind and making you make a run for it. Yup -that's pretty much it. There are a few people you manage to see through your blinkers - and they do inspire some awe. They're happy where they are, making the moolah and chewing at a steeady pace that makes you drool.
So, you turn your tortured neck trying to get a bit of the sunshine and if God sees your pain - on his coffee break - the yoke snaps and you're free. It doesn't happen usually - it's the rare dream that yanks you back to your plodding.
It's not that i'm such a wet blanket to life you know - one never gives up hope. And however old school, cliche, and how 'oh nevermind' it may sound - that's the only thing that keeps anyone going.
Yeah, i've got hopes! Right now i'm 2 and half years out of a masters degree in Media and Communication and you think when you get your leather bound degree that, 'YES, this is it. I'm going to change the world and my world and your world and...' The stupidity of it all sinks in then. Here i am in a system that writhes inside another one. And the only time it's going to change is when someone who owns one these gazillion systems decides that he or she's bored and it's time for a change. Those who welcome it are pioneers - group founders who get their portraits hung up in the most prestigious locations of their own mind.
I'd like to be a system owner - that way my portrait gets a piece of the pie too, i'd really like that. Like, WOW. And so to my whims and fancies i would sit and change the system as and when i please, applause and glory for the slight change is all mine - while below me a percentage roar in approval and the others with nothing but compliance as their option plod along with it.
It's pretty slow at the office today - no one's in. It's pretty quiet. Mom's having some of her shrieky friends over for lunch - so i can't even go home for a nap to forget this drudge. No i don't live with my parents, but they do come over once in a couple of years and yes they take over my house and life and pretty much everything else. Hence the lunch - and hence me at work - blogging.
I tried blogging a couple of times before this - i thought it was a cool way to let people know my insanely intelligent thoughts and take on life. Hmph - who was i kidding - the entire world thought about the same thing (imagine that!). And before i knew it there were thousands of people who had stolen all my favourite blog names, addresses, and what do you know - my thoughts as well. So much for my claim to fame.
I'm stuck in a rut right now, i've just come out fresh from an abusive argument with my mother and i've just about dampened whatever zest i had left for the rest of the month. This happens to be my favourite - December. We don't get snow, and the streets don't light up with Christmas deco - but it's the feeling - and that's great. And oh! i shouldn't forget cable television from the rest of world that beams in lovely pictures of the season on my telly.
Why am i here today with a brand new page and template? Well, i thought why the hell not? Let me share my insipid thinker tape with the rest of the who and be done with it. Who knows if there is someone out there, who has a solution? And hey i may be really cheerful in one of my next posts. Like i said - one never gives up hope...
You read everything - it's about you and you're fine print and well...you realize - and it's late mind you - that you're out of it from the start. You've never been in control and most of the time - it's just someone else pronging you in the behind and making you make a run for it. Yup -that's pretty much it. There are a few people you manage to see through your blinkers - and they do inspire some awe. They're happy where they are, making the moolah and chewing at a steeady pace that makes you drool.
So, you turn your tortured neck trying to get a bit of the sunshine and if God sees your pain - on his coffee break - the yoke snaps and you're free. It doesn't happen usually - it's the rare dream that yanks you back to your plodding.
It's not that i'm such a wet blanket to life you know - one never gives up hope. And however old school, cliche, and how 'oh nevermind' it may sound - that's the only thing that keeps anyone going.
Yeah, i've got hopes! Right now i'm 2 and half years out of a masters degree in Media and Communication and you think when you get your leather bound degree that, 'YES, this is it. I'm going to change the world and my world and your world and...' The stupidity of it all sinks in then. Here i am in a system that writhes inside another one. And the only time it's going to change is when someone who owns one these gazillion systems decides that he or she's bored and it's time for a change. Those who welcome it are pioneers - group founders who get their portraits hung up in the most prestigious locations of their own mind.
I'd like to be a system owner - that way my portrait gets a piece of the pie too, i'd really like that. Like, WOW. And so to my whims and fancies i would sit and change the system as and when i please, applause and glory for the slight change is all mine - while below me a percentage roar in approval and the others with nothing but compliance as their option plod along with it.
It's pretty slow at the office today - no one's in. It's pretty quiet. Mom's having some of her shrieky friends over for lunch - so i can't even go home for a nap to forget this drudge. No i don't live with my parents, but they do come over once in a couple of years and yes they take over my house and life and pretty much everything else. Hence the lunch - and hence me at work - blogging.
I tried blogging a couple of times before this - i thought it was a cool way to let people know my insanely intelligent thoughts and take on life. Hmph - who was i kidding - the entire world thought about the same thing (imagine that!). And before i knew it there were thousands of people who had stolen all my favourite blog names, addresses, and what do you know - my thoughts as well. So much for my claim to fame.
I'm stuck in a rut right now, i've just come out fresh from an abusive argument with my mother and i've just about dampened whatever zest i had left for the rest of the month. This happens to be my favourite - December. We don't get snow, and the streets don't light up with Christmas deco - but it's the feeling - and that's great. And oh! i shouldn't forget cable television from the rest of world that beams in lovely pictures of the season on my telly.
Why am i here today with a brand new page and template? Well, i thought why the hell not? Let me share my insipid thinker tape with the rest of the who and be done with it. Who knows if there is someone out there, who has a solution? And hey i may be really cheerful in one of my next posts. Like i said - one never gives up hope...
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