the general theory of racism

No one is new to racism in this world. Many must have experienced the ugly treatment, and it would not be politically correct for anyone to take sides with the racist. But the truth is that in India, we are fed daily doses of racism in the form of fairness cream ads on the TV. Going by an ad, a girl has to be fair to be playing tennis; how fair is that. If there are people raising ridiculous voices for calling a barber a barber, why has not anyone done so against money-making products exploiting the same gullible people.

But that's not all there is to it.

I call it racism for the absence of a more appropriate word, but it's nothing more than discrimination. Discrimination between two persons, two objects, two anything, when there's nothing really fundamental that rates one above the other. The two things are different, that's it. He is white, i am not. He grows a beard, i do not. How and why does one compare the two? And it's not just human beings that such things apply to. The number one victim of such a discrimination is i would say the night. All poets across all countries have likened the day to hope and good, while the night is sad and evil. (One could, but i would rather not, steer towards classifying things as good and bad, but instead would use the prevailing simple ideas.) Even amongst the nights, a new moon is supposed to be inauspicious, but a full moon is beautiful. Now you can see, where the bias in favour of the white skin comes from. Severely skewed sex ratio in several parts of our country is a testimony to the 'racism' being applied to not only colour of the skin but also to gender of the children. But is it obviously not fair. All the people, the day, the night, moonless or otherwise are created by the same entity, let's call it nature rather than God, then how could it be that one is better than the other. If one were really better than the other, won't nature be blamed of elitism, and then that would be a very hard thing to digest.

Again that's not all there is to it, and this one affects our lives more closely.

Say, someone likes apples, and someone else oranges. Even in such mundane matters, some people tend to become very opinionated, and then the person loving apples would say with a lot conviction that he does not like oranges at all. It's then funny yet sad to see the orange-lover get offended, and go on narrating the benefits of his favourite fruit. Why not let the other person love his apples peacefully, and go buy oranges for oneself. And where also is the need to deny people from liking their oranges? One could look around and see such stuff going on everywhere. Things grow to unruly levels, and with disturbing frequency, if one replaces the fruit one likes with the god one worships or the language one speaks or the clothes one wears or the music one listens to. It's not like i have an answer for all of the world's problems, but even on a much smaller scale, where your interaction is limited to a relatively smaller number of people, taking such things at face value would contribute towards reducing a bit of friction in our lives.

You can observe some commonalities across all the things in which such racism is prevalent. The fairer and bigger is in most of the cases supposed to be better than the darker and smaller. Maybe it's wired into our brains, because what makes the first impression on an interviewer's mind is the colour of the candidate's skin, so i was told before our campus placements. I think it's a notion that has carried itself -- and spilt over in other areas -- from the olden times. It was unwise then, and hence bad, to venture out after dark; when you couldn't take your survival for granted, you obviously had to be stronger than the others. Such things were on a very local level, and they changed drastically once you crossed an ocean or two. For in that foreign land survival might have required you to be on the shorter side. When the world was connected several centuries ago, when peoples came face to face with each other, they failed to shed those notions from their minds, and it gave rise to a feeling of superiority (and inferiority). But we humans as conscious beings, i believe, can certainly overcome the wired emotion. For example, they say, the basic aim of all the species is to increase its number. If again we were to follow that instict, the world would be a worse place (than it already is) to live in.

come, fall in love with a demon!

There are several people i know who adore Andaz Apna Apna as if it were there own child. I also have personal list of a few such movies (and a couple of books as well). You can start anywhere and end anywhere. There's nothing in the movie you don't know, rather every line and every twist is known to you. Yet on no occasion does the movie fail to entertain you to a degree that doesn't diminish with time. A few days ago, i watched such a movie, worhty to be included in the category above: The Exorcist.
(I don't know if this can be called a film review, but it does contain plenty of spoilers.)
There are mainly two things which make this movie stand out from the rest of the horror movies made. First is the manner in which the scary factor of this movie is presented. It does not involve some slithery slimy beast or a creepy zombie, who would attack the protagonist from behind when s/he would least expect. Instead it has a demon in the body of 12 year old girl who would deliver a hard smack right across the face. And the second one is the memorable conversations that the younger of the two priests has with the demon. At times what the demon says seems horrifying, as well as a bit amusing. Whoever thought of adding humour to a hardcore horror flick! The point where the demon imitates an answering-machine reply: 'Your mother's in here Karras. Would you like to leave a message? I'll see that she gets it.' is an astounding piece of dialogue. I would never think twice before voting for it to be included in a list of all-time favourite quotes., if there ever is such a poll. Also wonderful is the quote, 'What an excellent day for an exorcism.', again coming from the demon. This is at the time when Karras and the demon are having a chat, man-to-man.
What makes the movie a sucees is the superbly true demon. The demon should indeed be called the protagonist of the movie, but alas, civic sensibilities won't allow that. Due credit should to be given to Linda Blair who plays the possessed girl, and of course her make-up artist. The vastly numerous profanities alone wouldn't have been central to make the movie thoroughly enjoyable, but they positively add glamour to the movie.

Having said everything i could in praise of the movie, i do harbour a serious complaint against the movie. Even though the possessed form calls itself the Devil, other characters say it is only the demon claiming to be the Devil itself. Why was the form shown to be content with calling itself a demon? Given the scale of the blasphemous content, in the movie, it is difficult to comprehend that portrayal of the Devil could have made things any worse. If you can show Jesus why not the Devil? Nothing would have changed, other than the identify of the form as the Devil proper. I know little about Christianity, but after watching this movie, i had a feeling -- and i may be entirely wrong -- that in a way the Devil is more sacred than the God.

the apt Gangaram

What all things can you think of when you hear Gangaram?
There are quite a few already who go by this name. One is a Marathi movie titled Ram Ram Gangaram, starring Dada Kondke et al. I haven't seen that one, but you can't miss getting some idea, regards the content of the movie, by just knowing the actor. Next comes a shoe shop by the same name in Udaipur. It is a crap place which i would recommend only if all other shoe shops in Udaipur and neighbouring cities are shut down. If you discount a break in the syllable, there's also a hospital in Delhi by the name Ganga Ram, and as far as i have heard about it, it's got the best the capital has to offer in terms of medical facilities; so what if it has to share its name with one of Dada Kondke's movies.
What else?
The occasion was a fair in the city, held every December, where you can choose from among a myriad of things to gift someone. You can see paintings, wall-hangings, furniture, leather goodies, thick carpets with prices running into five figures, and what not; and a plethora of diverse and dazzling performances coming from all corners of the country. At the same place there was an enclosure from which a microphone-equipped man was luring the passers-by into witnessing some outstanding powers of a donkey. And guess what was the name of the donkey; yup you guessed it right, it was Gangaram.
So i paid ten bucks to enter the enclosure, which was basically a simple tent. It's one good thing about roaming all alone, you don't need to consult anyone before changing your path abruptly (a one-line digression à la Chetan Bhagat). In the middle there was the host, and all the people who were tempted like me, formed a circle around him. First up, using his hands to close the donkey's eyes, the host asked for someon'e watch and told a girl to keep the watch. I was not impressed much when Gangaram went and stood next to exactly the same girl when asked to. That must be some regular girl, thought i. But as the show progressed, i could see there was indeed something. Like when the host asked Gangaram to point out a man wearing spectacles; lo and behold, that ass moved a full circle and stopped near me. I was so astounded, that i couldn't stop myself from fondling Gangaram, falling short of only a peck. I looked around to see if there were many men wearing spects, but there was only one: i. A few more of such Qs and As followed.
It's obvious that there was some terrifically imperceptible coding system in place between the host and his pal. Either that or the donkey is really an extraordinary animal, who not only understands the question but also is intelligent enough to answer those.
That's Gangaram for you, an apt one at that.

'gimme a break mate!'

Almost every other day, you can find someone or the other writing, either through newspapers or blogs or some online article, on the Australian cricket team's poor current performance. Now, there's one more to the list.
People are bashing these guys right, left and centre for their poor tactics with the the bat, the ball, and in the field. They are writing pages on how Australia should have planned better, given that the retirements of McGrath and Warne were round the corner, and how the selectors should have used some more of their discretionary powers.
I agree, everything that they say is fine. Australia are playing cricket at a level that is nowhere close to the what they played a few years ago. In the past 10 years' period, no one is used to seeing Australia fight despearately to save a Test on the last day, except on a few occasions, you know against whom; but in their own backyard -- naaah!
But come on, think of it! What else do you expect? Australia has been at the top almost for a decade now. I am not much into statistics myself, but you can put appropriate filters at cricinfo statsguru and check it for yourself. And now it's only natural that they are being replaced. How interesting would cricket be left if Australia does another hat-trick of World Cups? I, for sure, won't love it. But that does not imply that Australia has to take flak for that.
I daresay that there's little difference between being vicarious and bashing the Aussies for there current run. It can be, at times, equated with sadism. Australia is not used to attract any sympathy in recent times, but i don't want to be a sympathiser either, for i fear the i-told-you-so attitude.
So what's up for the Aussies now? Ponting for sure can't do anything better than keep his mouth shut. If he does otherwise, he's sure to receive more from the same people. But i would be very heartened to see him open his mouth and scream at the top of his voice, 'Gimme a break mate!'

Bansi baby

It's been more than a year that i am in the land of camels, Rajasthan, yet i rode this animal for the first time only yesterday. I was with a friend roaming around a popular tourist centre in Udaipur, a place i must have passed by 50 times if not more, where you can emjoy a camel ride.
I had a strange feeling as i mounted the camel, thinking that i will be riding not my regular motorcycle, but an animal, a living animal. With both of us on top of the camel, for a moment it felt we would be landing straight on our noses from a 10 feet as the camel got up, first on its hind legs and then the front ones. We came to know that the camel was named Bansi, but i aint sure if that means a male or a female, it didn't strike me then to enquire more about it; must be a male though, not sure.
It indeed felt like the camel ride that they have at Essel World as Bansi strode leisurely. As i was adjusting myself to the bumpy ride, i felt, for only a few minutes, like walking in the shoes of those who have to travel miles together on a camel. I read somwhere recently that the Indian army near the Pakistan border maintains a fleet of 700 camels.
As we finished our ride, we had some small talk with the kid taking care of Bansi. I was curious to know if Bansi was able to tell this kid from others, and he said he could. It was a beautiful animal indeed, and i could see this kid liked him very much from the hug he gave to his dear pet. A camel need not be as handsome as a stallion or an Alsatian, but it is a good pet, nonetheless. In fact, i think any mammal, for that matter, would be a good candidate for a pet, but am not sure if an iguana can tell its master from a stranger.

speaking tree

It's the daily column on the edit page of ToI. Now to be really frank, ToI, i don't think, is a great newspaper. Especially this Ahmedabad edition, where everyday on the front page you will find a news where some Gujju has achieved something. It's a newspaper's duty to publish such events, but ToI, Ahmedabad, i feel is highly biased in such matters. The Speaking Tree, on the other hand, has no such regional issues; yet, i have borne a prejudice against this article, thinking that it always carries heavily loaded, un-understandable philosophical or moral stuff.
But today's article was quite entertaining to read. It has a thought in it that made me smile gently, instantly. The writer asks why don't we blame the fire if it spreads accidentally and causes damage. Or why don't we question a person who's admiring beauty of the Moon on a clear night. It's because, he says, it is natural; a fact about such things that we have understood very well, accepted fully, and learnt to live with. In what follows, the writer furthers the thought where he replaces fire and the Moon with people. He proposes that learning to accept people as they are, and by not having too many or over-ambitious expectations from them, will help us live our lives more happily. Now the thing about such arguments is that if put in sweet words, they look pretty convincing to me. So much so, that several times, both the the 'View' and the 'Counter-View' -- again from ToI's edit page -- seem equally appealing. But in the present case, one can immediately ask if that implies that we should mutely accept even the ill things around us, and not do anything about it? Well, he doesn't dwell on that, but giving him the benefit of doubt, i would say he implies no such thing.
But that's not the point at all i want to emphasize upon. I aint sure if it struck many to question fire as to why does it burn things down? You can put a thousand scientific fundaes explaining the properties of fire, but there can always be a final unanswerable 'why'.
It feels nice to read such things, gives me a reason to post regularly. Speaking Tree is, after all, not such a bore. As for ToI, it's somewhat like orkut, you know it's no good, stuff it has doesn't have great value, but still you go for it everyday.
Old habits, dude, ...

cool dude

Everyone must have enjoyed the recent thriller of a match between West Indies and Sri Lanka, if not the entire match, at least the highlights (like i did). Shivnarine Chanderpaul rose to the occasion, and the guy who is known to sitck to the wicket till the end of the innings in a Test, proved that he could as well do it in an ODI and snatch victory.
However, there was one more player who amazed me equally, if not to a greater extent. And that was West Indian captain Chris Gayle displaying a sedate demeanour during the final moments of the match. Towards the end of WI innings, as the hosts were getting closer and closer to the target with wickets falling in rapid succession, the camera frequently pointed at Gayle, and someone unaware of the state of the match, might have thought that he has just woken up from slumber. He was not biting his nails sitting on the edge of the chair like Ganguly used to do; neither was he chewing a gum and getting restless like Ponting does. Slouched in his seat, he was watching the proceedings carried out at the wicket with cold eyes. Didn't he want WI to win the match? Of course, he wanted to! As an opener he had scored 52 and played his part very well.
Was he indifferent to the result of the game?
Well, i can not say with surety anything about that, but it looked like he very much followed what a great guy had instructed his student about one's efforts and its fruits, on a battlefield a few thousand years ago.

the right way?

I was a tad disappointed seeing that i hadn't got a window seat in the bus even after asking the ticket vendor to get me one. It was a pretty comfortable bus, one in which you wouldn't mind taking a five hour long journey. The man sitting next to me looked like he had skipped the daily bath. It was only when the conductor came asking for tickets, that i came to know that this person didn't have a ticket with him. He had a letter from some acquaintance which he had assumed was enough to give him a free journey on the bus. The TC suggested that he should buy a ticket, but he was not exactly insisting him to do so. In reply, this guy mildly offered the TC about two thirds the ticket price as a bribe, which he declined softly.
Later as the number of passengers dwindled, this guy changed his seat, and sat somewhere at the back of the bus; and i got the seat i wanted. It was a pleasant journey with slightly overcast skies accompanied by a small drizzle. Moreover, with nice songs to keep company, one couldn't ask for more.
All of a sudden the driver slowed down the bus. I looked out of the window, only to see a man walking with unsteady steps towards the front of the bus with a big piece of rock in his hand. It was not difficult to guess that he was heavily drunk. The driver as well as the conductor got down immediately and tried to hold him down. Sensing trouble, this guy who was sitting next to me, and who now occupied a seat somewhere at the back of the bus, got to the scene promptly. Without a second's hesitation he slapped the drunkard hard across his face. He tried getting him in the bus to hand him over at the next police station for raising such a situation. Mind you, it was a national highway and it was broad daylight. Another hard slap across the face. Finally, the drunk was saved as a friend of his somehow managed to stop these fellows from taking him into the bus.
Alright, so what's the point?
Nothing as such, but there's quite a lot to observe from this incident.

om shanti om

I am just back from watching this movie, and i tell you, i enjoyed it. Enjoyed it for reasons that beg to be brought out.
There's this song wherein Farah Khan has managed to rope in like half the Hindi film industry. Every time a hero or a heroine makes an entry, there are shrill shouts you hear in the song, even i hooted on a couple of occasions. You could see those familiar steps from oldies like Jeetendra, Dharmendra and Mithun; things which make you change the channel if you see them while surfing, things which they themselves, i guess, must be ashamed to have performed and lured the audiences with once upon a time. Then there were the heroines, whom you could count to be well beyond their prime, Juhi Chawla, Urmila Matondkar, Tabu, Karishma Kapoor. No sooner do you try recalling is there someone important from the same age that's missing, one who's been a very 'lucky' part in all of SRK's movies in the last few years, than you see Kajol. They go through the K2H2 things once again, and it all seems pretty. Then there's the big three Khans: Sallu, Saif and Shar Rukh. With OSO, SRK also has joined the bandwagon of the other two who are only too happy to shed their shirts. And if you are talking about muscles, how can you forget Sanju Baba. The four of them get on top of the bar counter, all in a mood to do a striptease. There must be something like 50 of such characters in the song.
Otherwise the movie is crap, i admit; but i also admit that what one sees in a Hindi movie is what one can really count as our own. In spite of all the English movies that i enjoy watching, i aint sure if i would enjoy one with all Hollywood actors coming together for a similar song sequence. The song is like what you feel when you attend a close wedding -- the wedding is just a reason, what you care for is having a great time with your loved ones.
I feel if somebody has to teach the alphabet to a toddler it would be a good thing to start with: A for Amitabh, B for Bollywood ...

hurtful convenience

It was one of my early days at my workplace when i had an urge to address the call of nature. On such an occasion one feels relieved, literally and otherwise, on finding a decent loo, but imagine my bliss on finding one with an attachment to wash your ass clean once you are done with your job, with just the turn of a knob. It's no great deal, i admit, but then you won't find it every place.
After having finished doing the thing i turned the knob and had a strong jet of water directed straight at my sensitive rear end. I turned the knob to weaken the force -- fine -- but as fate would have it, i turned it the wrong way, and in response to the increased force i turned it further, again the wrong way. It took me some time to compose myself after what i thought was like a pointy steel rod shoved up my rear end.
That was one feeling of pain i have experienced. It must have lasted for a time interval no greater than one fourth of a second, but i cringe everytime i relive that one fourth second. It's like what you feel on the way down a joy ride making a 70 degree angle with the horizontal. The descent lasts only a few seconds, but you feel as though you have lived an eternity.
I guess it was the price of convenience, or perhaps of my foolishness.