Saturday, March 28, 2009

Horrid and his Girl

Walking back into his room, Horrid was a population of conflicted emotions. It had only been a couple of hours into leaving her home, but he decided to flush the last traces of the rendezvous - so leisurely in their nature - and focus on a subjective view instead that would ultimately lead to opinions. He could not help himself, for opinions were a natural culmination of all his experiences, however inconsequential.

Horrid impulsively knew that she won't be the one, and now came to infer upon it, even though it had been a memorable day for him in a good sense. This top-down approach was suitable for him, for he would always find time at a later day to work on it, and he was now adept to the extent that his inference mechanism could not beguile the original feeling. Today Horrid had to de-construct a favorable situation into the greatest of risks, he knew he would need some work, so he brought in a glass of cold water and set himself to the task. It was hot and musty outside - there had been clouds through the day but it hadn't rained. Horrid also felt uneasy in his shirt, so off it went, bringing to his notice his own ever-expanding potbelly. He knew that he he'd never been that attractive a person, so it was a wonder as to why she'd gone out with him today.

They had been friends for a long time now, stretching into years. They both had been in touch much throughout, and had assumed that they will start liking each other; it had been so, which is why they had been together today. Their families were vaguely acquainted, but more importantly, carried a good impression mutually. Horrid's father was in a position where he could even claim to be superior and hold a greater ego over the other family; and everybody knew how much ego meant to his father. So even the imbalance here served to keep the balance.
Horrid knew that she was a smoker, but that only led him to think erotic thoughts of whether she believed in piercings as well, and had any down there. Moreover, she was more qualified and more capable a person than Horrid was as things stood currently, living an independent life, so Horrid could not complain much.

All that he could complain about was his greater love for his homeland, and her obsession for America. He let this thought suck out all the merit he saw in her earlier. He well knew that it was luck on his side that had brought her closer, for such girls generally get taken by the more aggressive guys and much too fast.

After these minutes of profound pondering, Horrid called up a friend and asked, "I've got this girl, would you like to take her?"
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Can't Learn to love/live with it

It is absurd finding the most exciting of people around you high on injecting nothing but air. All the great promise they hold about life is based on the great promise that it happened the same with a billion others before them - a shady decision since it's made on empirical evidence. In their current framework of things, they see progress - slow, but stable, but unsatisfying - an inevitable consequence, and adds the label of 'realism' to it to finally keep on living with that conviction. The majority sees progression as a chemical reaction - when it isn't. What is a certain chemical reaction is that inside me which triggers my emotions of anxiety/sadness on listening to friends professing about the 'you have to come to terms with it' aspect of life, which obviously means that my selfish genes see that as counter-productive to their proliferation... I'm on the fringes of either being awesomely right or going into a mental disorder here - when considering the consequences of my observation at a greater length - but will accept the way it goes with a great gladness.

Things are such a pile of shit right now, that if you still feel sane, you have to be either a great artist who sees great expressions of art in that shit, or that very shit itself. I'll be frank that I'm distressed at lots of things which aren't the way I thought they'd be; and irritated because now I'm being taught to take in that they are so. I think that underlines the character of the ordinary - internalising even the wrong out there is and assuming it to be an inseparable part of their character and hence taking offence at anything that ever complains about it. I wonder if they can ever be patriotic in the right sense.

rightnow: going to be sleeping at a friend's place, possibly with my head inside the helmet since there are too many mosquitoes in the room; got back from some great food close to Humayun's Tomb, racing along the Noida toll road and hitting 1XX kmph in the process - no way of confirming since even my speedometer's broke now, coming across a prostitute applying makeup by the side of the road close to Delhi Zoo, riding past surreal landscape of construction workers steamrolling a stretch of road at night under the lights and smoke. forgot gems back at home.
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Wednesday, March 18, 2009

A Great Absurdity

In an essay titled "Curriculum Mortis" by a (anti)psychologist David Cooper in his book "The Grammar of Living" (1974):
"In early nineteenth-century England it (suicide) was regarded as a capital offense - one should be legally murdered for daring to try to kill oneself. For example, one man tried unsuccessfully to kill himself by cutting his throat and was sentenced to death by hanging - but before the hanging (in those days slow strangulation rather than death by rapid trauma to the central nervous system) his wound had to be carefully stitched up and bandaged so that it would not open and allow him to bleed to death from a self-inflicted wound. He could only die by the legally prescribed form of hanging."

Brilliant scheme for somebody committed to die!
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Warring for the Women

#1: Delhi seems safe (for women).
MIGHT BE BECAUSE
#2: I do not move about. AND
#3: When I do, its usually the safer locales; that is what the undeniable safety of the Delhi Metro does to you - now everything HAS to be within 20 minutes of reach.

OTHERWISE
#4: I'd have come across the common scenes of direct/indirect abuse of the women. AND
#5: I'd have had the chance to headbutt into some random repressed fucker(s) doing so. HM
#6: The last I felt like that was some morning of January, 2008, upon learning of the terrorists attacking some couple on the New Year's eve close to a 5-star hotel in Delhi.

This über campaign, and the amazing artwork that an associated art group created set me off to the fancy of physically assaulting those sad people.

Do I see a woman getting back even more strongly...the dainty slap taking shape of a punch? Yes.
Doing I see her knocking down those bikes/bikers that block her way and ask her to step out? Yes.
Do I see those bikers finding a new respect? No.
Do I see bystander stepping into the role of Heroes/Heroines? Maybe.
I just hope that such counter-reaction isn't met by counter-counter-reaction.
That rubbish party has already become a national face, henceforth holds more clout, and must be cashing in on more funds. The facade of culture is a great scheme for a business model.

My itch that is, is that there have been much severe incidents in the past (being sprayed with acid, burnt, abused, raped, killed), but the collective conscience only wakes up when it almost became a personal thing to the people who know how to make websites and write artikels. The sudden flood of sympathy seems confusing, and the keyword 'sympathy' only reminds me of an Amartya Sen quote:
"It can be argued that behaviour based on sympathy is egoistic, for oneself is pleased at others' pleasure and pained at others' pain, and the pursuit of one's own utility may thus be helped by sympathetic action."

Now let's see: the victims were accessible enough, not deprived of the power to speak (physical restrictions that being sprayed with acid or being killed puts) and, most importantly, willing to speak (thank God for being progressive-minded!). So this has shades of ego-exercise about it. And no, I don't think such activism fueled by ego is wrong, but surely something that had been existing latently and would've been much better off had it come earlier.

Seeing it another way, this incident caught on as it involved large congregations over a large number of places and, more importantly, was reducible to a simple binary relationship - the abuser and the abused. What the latter means gets more clear if one recalls the twisted social nature (thanks to our nakedness to irrational arguments) that dowry deaths or family abuse assume in India, and only a few NGOs are left to fight over it for years at times. 'I personally believe' that we learn to have an immediate opinion in these smaller cases as well - without needing the necessary media to generate sympathy to decide of taking action.

If anybody truly feels humiliated at such an incident, then they will not be looking for such straightforward binary roles: because there aren't any. These people that did so are inflated balls of ego, and deflated icons of potency. They promulgate their ideologies in private circles, which often escapes notice right under our eyes; they live amongst us, and you see them doing small, irritating, cute, (assumedly) social things everyday to push in their ideology. We should work on showing them humans first rather than creatures from hell, and then work on a direction that shows their decline to that creature from hell.

rightnow: so happy at the thought of going Gail Wynand (junior years) at the goons for something I obsessively feel about. Such thoughts should not be restricted to 2AM in the morning.
As always, late by a month in reactions :(

[Hello David Cooper]
[Hello Ms. South Carolina]
[Hello WWE/F]
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Saturday, March 14, 2009

Wie Eine Blume

You are like a flower, so sweet, and pretty, and pure. I look at you, and sorrow steals into my heart.
I feel that I ought to lay my hands upon your head, praying that God should keep you so pure, and pretty, and sweet.
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Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Wherever you are or I am is here
Wherever here is
But wherever here is
Let us not let it be anywhere else.
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Monday, March 09, 2009

Go See Tso

Today was spent making up my mind to visit the Tso family - the bunch of (remnant) lakes in a close cluster, lying in the the region of Zanskar/Leh, not far from the course of River Indus: Tso Kar, Startsapuk Tso, Thandsangkaru Tso/Kiagar Tso, Tso Moriri and the Kyun Tso. So far it's only wishful thinking, but if plans go through, it will sprout a halo of transcendence about me. Right now I'm thinking of my possible accomplices: there are a couple of friends who are all set for Leh, maybe I can flex their plans; there's a friend who will want to run away from the world for a couple of weeks come May, I'm assuming; and then there are some new candidates on the horizon, with whom I'm not that familiar with, but well aware of their unwavering passion for adventure.

Can you digest that the Tso Moriri is 30,000 acres in surface area? 3,333 of my (former) college compounds can fit into that! But in the name of fauna, there is mainly the Wild Ass, which, though a disappointing animal for all the other wealth our jungles offer, has been a favorite of mine since class VII, when our geography teacher - that hag - would tell us about the abundance of wild asses in the state of Gujarat. Yes I was that degenerate.

All these lakes are within 60km of linear trajectory, but as one is aware, that it comes to a few hundred kilometers of winding roads. Alternately, I wish I could trek all that distance, in the spirit of a wanderer. And then to add to the mystical part I'll have visits from the tree fairies on the nights when I'm out camping, and they will feed me berries and roasted venison. I hope they would give me a return air ticket from Leh as well, for I won't be having any energy left by the time I've seen it all.

ps: that reminds me to explore the occult in these ranges
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Sunday, March 01, 2009

Real Fear

"It could've happened to anybody." And with that premises, I walk with fear on the roads of Delhi, just having been a witness to somebody in a miserable condition being pushed deeper into misery in broad daylight. Things aren't the same anymore. The paranoia will set in - not just me, everybody else - after all it's not everyday that you see such things happening right in front of your eyes...somebody being taken down from a distance. My friends have felt fearful walking through crowded lanes in Muslim-dominated areas, much because of the hype machine that has reduced "Islam" to another word for "senseless killing", prejudice. A similar fear is manifest to certainty these days, but not on Muslim, but Hindu/Sikh turf, and walking through those lanes is a dosage of paranoia: you are aware of what these people can do to you, and take every step expecting your doom; your eyes moving like a pinball, searching for their faces every direction; you start hating their kids - cute and innocent - because you know what menace lies inside them; you expect every distraction as a ploy, and walk with pacing steps in a straight line, fearful to look in the that direction only because you're too familiar as to what could be your fate; the roads hint of the few lucky ones who made it through, those hints being as frightful as much as comforting. You walk on, because there are no other options. You live in such a society, and you live with IT, year after year with the same recurrent fear.
But you are certain that it would pass away: those menacing kids sneaking up on you with water balloons a few days around Holi.
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