Movies, Games, Society and Sex

Our movies are a good reflection of the society that we live in and vice versa. While Hollywood has been more forthcoming in the portraying of taboos and vices, Bollywood, though a late starter, has caught on well. The usual “You dog” or “You Scoundrel” has been replaced by “Mother Fucker” or “Son of a Bitch”. Till the late 80s, Bollywood movies showed two flowers swaying together or two birds playing with their beaks to portray love making with the final act being represented by the fire going out. The 90s and the twenty first century have been bolder in shooting steamy scenes. A smooch earlier used to be the talk of the town. It has now become so omnipresent. Sex on the silver screen is no longer a result of an untimely rainfall. And this does not come as a surprise…because Pulp Fiction sells.:-)

However, there has been a tectonic shift in the after effect of love making in the Bollywood movies of yester years and the Bollywood movies of today. Initially, any act of love making used to result invariably in the heroine conceiving. Incredible, isn’t it? On the contrary, how often do you hear about children being born out of wedlock or the actress conceiving? One of the reasons could be the fall in fertility rates among men and women (mind you that includes our alpha males and females portrayed in the movies too) alike owing to lifestyle changes and environmental issues. The other and equally important reason could be the warming up of our heroes and heroines to contraceptive measures. And I am happy about the latter. And I would be even happier if these things are discussed in more movies.

So much has been written and said about the Commonwealth Games (CWG). So, I will not write anything more. Other than India doing well in the games, there is one more thing that particularly caught my eye. Many toilets at the games village got clogged owing to condoms being disposed through these toilets in large numbers. This piece was written in continuation with the ‘difficult’ living conditions at the village. What some of the columnists ignored was that these toilets would have gotten blocked anywhere in the world, forget India. Now educating these international athletes on what’s biodegradable and what’s not is a different subject altogether. What’s important here is the use of condoms, which I am happy about.

Discussing social values may not be helpful here. I’d say “to each his own”. The number 6 billion, the world’s population, could be a mere piece of statistic for some. What’s important is that we would not have reached this number if we had been more judicious in our use of contraceptive measures. While I cheer for India and for a successful closure of the CWG, I will also cheer for those athletes who used those condoms. I am sure the world can do without some more unwanted babies. And I would be happy to see more Bollywood movies touching upon the issue of safe sex and I would be even happier to learn that someday the CWG athletes learned to be more careful while disposing off their used condoms. ;-)

I want...

Curious to know what’s cooking in the pot,
This is just the hint of the Mohit-O shot!

It’s funny to think the way I think,
But, what the heck and then I wink.

I wish I could go back to school ,
And be naughty and carefree and play it cool.

I wanna drive a Ferrari and a Lamborghini,
And then I wonder where I would get the money.

I wanna go sailing on a yacht,
In the Mediterranean is what I’ve thought.

I wanna sky dive and drift freely,
I wanna do a bike wheelie.

I wanna explore the African wilderness,
The frigid Siberia and the Amazon forests.

I wanna go flying in a hot air balloon,
With the twinkling stars and a full moon.

I wanna relax on a hammock, under a tree
And enjoy the cool breeze blowing from the sea.

I wanna steal a rock of the Parthenon
I sure could be crazy, but am not a con.

I wanna feature on the cover of the Time
And then I’d wonder if that photo were mine.

I wanna jive to music that is live,
And I wanna learn, ’coz Latin dances are fun.

I wanna be wicked and I wanna grin,
And I wanna do a Calvin.

You friends are gems and I wanna thank,
Without you, o boy, my life would be blank.

And my loving family that makes me sail
Through thick and thin, else I’d fail.

It’s not the money if that’s what you think
Though, I wouldn’t mind some-wink wink wink.

I wanna live with hope, I wanna die in peace
I wanna drift in my dreams, where I’m at ease.

It is easier to dream than to see it get done
But, who knows; I could be the chosen one.

This ain’t no bucket list, if that’s what you thought
’Coz I keep wondering as to next is what.

All is certainly not well!

A couple of weeks ago, before moving to Singapore, a friend invited me over for lunch. It was during this time when some parts of Hyderabad were experiencing communal tension. Just to refresh your memory, it was the same time when Sania Mirza’s marriage was ‘breaking news’ on all the TV Channels. And considering that communal violence is commonplace in India, this bit was not all that ‘breaking’ for the news channels.

Post lunch, my friend dropped me at a place from where I took an auto for my journey back home. Call it destiny or something else; I got into an auto whose driver stayed in the old city-the part of the city which was impacted by the turbulence the most. He looked visibly disturbed. I happened to ask him the reason. I guess he wanted to vent out his frustration and helplessness to someone.

Incidentally, that someone was me. I hail from an infamous place-Ayodhya. Hence, I am not new to words like curfew and communal tension. But, in 1992 I was in class IVth. As a kid, all I cared about was that our schools used to shut down, quite often indefinitely, and we used to have a gala time at home. The reality that had not hit me then, hit me 18 years later.

The auto-driver told me that he could manage to take out his auto after 4 days when the police relaxed the curfew for a few hours. He and his family were surviving on his paltry savings for the initial two days and for the last two days his neighbours were helping him by offering some leftover food. But as the curfew intensified, even his neighbours started feeling the pinch. But for his children, he could have managed without food for some more days was what he said. He told me that he was happy to earn some money but on his way back he got delayed and missed the curfew deadline by 10 minutes. He was not allowed to go to his place. Even though he had toiled hard, he wasn’t sure if he could reach his family. Agony and frustration were rife in his voice.

We are all selfish and I think that is the core of human existence. That makes politicians and therefore the politics they practice selfish too. But, when our selfishness transcends all boundaries and everything boils down to vote bank politics, it takes draconian proportions and gets manifested in acts of communal violence, pro and anti reservation protests and not to miss our (in)famous ‘rail roko’ (stopping trains) or ‘chakka jam’ (road blockades) revolutions. It is neither you, who is reading this, nor me, who is writing this suffers. It is people like these auto drivers and their families who suffer. Till date, I have failed to understand how a ‘Hyderabad bandh’ will help the common man and make him want Telengana more. I have failed to understand how burning of trains, buses and other public property can bolster a cause when it is hampering the cause of the common man.

These were exactly the thoughts that crossed my mind while I was listening to him. These thoughts made me cringe then, they make me pensive now and I guess they will just lie in one remote corner of my mind after some time.

At the end of the trip, I tipped the guy 50 rupees. I do not support socialism and this act of mine should not be construed as one that supports it either. I wanted him to have hope because I guess he needed every bit of it that day. And I guess I did that sub-consciously, because I wanted to get over the guilt of being helpless in those circumstances.

Did someone say ,“All is well”?

Anything for Women Empowerment

There are few temptations that are irresistible. Since the entire country seems to be talking about women’s reservation bill, I couldn’t resist adding my 2 cents. First things first, let me say that I am happy that the women’s reservation bill got passed in the Rajya Sabha. There is a buzz everywhere and all the ‘breaking news’ on all the TV channels was that history was created. Though, I am not sure if that’s going to change things on the ground.

Probably I am naïve. Or, I could be a cynic. According to me the hullabaloo is not only premature; it is a result of ignorance. The reservation for women exists at the village level for more than 15 years now. However, I have not seen anything change significantly. Or, probably we all believe in incremental change or live with the hope that ‘the day is not far when…’. I still hear honour killings happening in parts of Haryana and Punjab. Eve teasing and rapes are endemic. What I fail to understand is how 200 women MPs can change the fate of half a billion people and make them empowered. And I fail to understand what is it that women chief ministers have done differently or significantly for the upliftment of women. And I, therefore, fail to see the causality between having more women in legislature and women upliftment.

Someone said-“Precaution is better than cure.” 62 years after independence, we have still not been able to think of preventive measures. What is most unfortunate is that there is still no uniform civil code. And the only way, it seems, that the politicians of this country can bring about reform in the civil society is through corrective measures like reservation.

Introducing corrective measures is still justified if the benefits pass on to the needy. I guess the governments over the years got tired of experimenting with the bottoms-up approach. Hence, this time they decided to follow the top-down approach. And now, I’m sure we’ll have a few more Mayawatis and Jayalalithas and Rabris and we’ll have a few more statues and parks built or someone else may hold the world record for owning the maximum number of slippers or someone may not only ruin the law and order of an entire state but the entire country. And who knows if we are unlucky and someone is really lucky, we may have all three ‘empowered scenarios’ being achieved by one person.

Anything for women empowerment…;-)

The Rickshaw, the road side chai, the roasted peanuts and the cool breeze…

Some people have been saying, off-late, that I am becoming very philosophical these days. I guess ‘becoming philosophical’ is the most abused word in social parlance. I wonder why people say so. According to me, our existence will come to an end if we stop being philosophical. Being philosophical is nothing but a way of life. Phew! That was heavy.

Let me continue with this ‘way of life’. 

The only thing that is constant is change. I think I was averse to change for quite some time. I guess it was sheer inertia, or, probably the lack of certain experiences that made me the way I am. I strongly feel that you cannot change your inherent nature. However, there can be a few tweaks to that inherent nature that can go a long way. And that is what I have been experiencing in the last 6 months or so. You, generally, need an incident or it may take more than one for you to realize that you have changed. I think everyone will agree with me that fog is a symbol of uncertainty. Well, not always. The fogginess of Jan 2010 helped me rediscover myself. Or, maybe, there is more to come. 

I had to make a hurricane trip to my home town, Faizabad. It is a small district in South East Uttar Pradesh. My ideal itinerary has been a flight to Delhi followed by an overnight train journey to Faizabad. This time my flight to Delhi was delayed. CAT III or no CAT III, the compliance needed for flights to fly during low visibility conditions, all the airlines were impacted. Cutting the long story short, I reached Delhi at 6 PM, instead of the scheduled 3:10 PM. And I had my connecting train at 7:20 PM. Someone who is aware of Delhi traffic would have guessd by now that by no stretch of imagination I would have been able to catch the train from the (in) famous Old Delhi Railway Station in one hour and twenty minutes. And if it sometime close to Jan 26th when most of the roads are blocked for routine rehearsals or for some ‘standard’ security reasons, then the odds become all the more. My cab driver suggested that instead of going to Old Delhi Railway I should try and take a Metro from Dwarka. I agreed. I did not have too many choices either. The first change was this. I have started accepting things, at least some of them, that are beyond my control-unlike old times when I would have cribbed and swore incessantly.

There is nothing worse than slow death- when you know that you are running against time and you know that you are not gonna win.. It would have been better if my flight had landed after 7. I would have checked my watch a hundred times in that 60 minutes run from Dwarka to Chandni Chowk. And then you hope against hope that a miracle will save you. But then I think I mentioned in my previous blogs that Murphy is my second name ;-)

I called a close friend of mine, Neeraj, so that he could check if the train had left. It was already 20 mins past the departure time. Neeraj told me that the train was cancelled. It did not come as a surprise. Or, I guess the realist was taking over the optimist in me. But hold on-not yet. Looking back, I think I was lucky to even reach Delhi under the prevailing circumstances. Neeraj checked online and told me that there were flight tickets available to Lucknow for the next day.

Here comes the part that I found most pleasing and under the circumstances most surprising too. Neeraj stays in Rohini and there is no direct Metro connection from Chandni Chowk. I had to go Kashmiri Gate to take the train. And that meant that I had to take a rickshaw or an auto to Kashmiri gate. It was a bit cold. So, before leaving Chandni Chowk, I decided to have a cup of road side ‘chai’ (tea). There is something about these road side ‘delicacies’ that continues to remain unparalleled. I am not a tea/ coffee addict. So, these rare caffeine moments are truly relished by me.

I decided to go for a rickshaw. And I am glad that I did that. It’s fun to ride a rickshaw once in a while. I had not had roasted peanuts in sometime. So, I decided to take some peanuts before getting on to the rickshaw. The manual labour aside, it was a fun ride. There was a nip in the air. I was savoring the peanuts. I wasn’t sure where to dispose off the peelings. The immediate second thought was “What the fuck”. And Delhi roads became a bit dirtier that they already were. I know I am writing at the cost of drawing wrath from some of my closest friends. But, I guess it’s good to be savage at times. 

You will definitely invite looks from the bystanders if you are even slightly out of place. I guess wearing a nice blazer and sitting on a rickshaw do not go hand in hand. And this was made every evident by almost everyone who saw me. The reason of those looks could be something else also-but I seriously doubt that. Again, being oblivious to such things is the mantra. We end up brooding about what the society will think…the list is endless. I think nobody gives a hoot and I think we should not give a damn either.

A simple road side chai on a cold winter morning, or the road side chaat in the evening, or an occasional beer with a close friend, or a long drive on a breezy evening, or reading a book over a cup of coffee, or the occasional rants of an idle mind in the blog, or the dhan-te-nan in a pub can make so much of a difference to our mundane lives.

I guess we look for that big happiness in life and in the process tend to miss out on those small pleasures. What we forget is that the total is the sum of its parts. 

Kite Flying leading to mental chumming

It was the day of Makar Sankranti. It is the harvest festival for South India. Honestly, I do know much about it beyond that. As a kid, Makar Sankranti was all about flying kites. One of my office friends, Vikram, invited us to his place for dine, wine and kite flying. 5 of us turned up. The weather was ideal for kite flying. A gentle and cool breeze, overcast conditions without any rain, loud peppy music on the roof top and Vikram and his family’s hospitality-could not have asked for more.

I do not remember when it was the last time I flew a kite. But, I do remember that it was never a lavish affair. The spool that I had as a kid (almost 15 years ago) was a result of many investments that I made with my pocket money back then. I remember the ‘manjha’-the thread that is used in front and used for cutting others’ kite, used to be bought for Rs.1 or 2. Unlike old days, Satish Anna (another colleague) and Vikram had made elaborate arrangements this time. Initially, I was not sure whether I should fly any kites. But, Satish Anna’s enthusiasm rubbed on to all of us. Though he was kept busy by his cute little 3 year-old daughter, Aarushi, and he could not take many turns at professional kite flying.

By the way, it was interesting for me to notice that even the manjha was ‘Made in China’. Dragonization I say. :-)

While we were busy flying kites, Niranjan, another friend, made an observation. He does not know how to fly a kite. He was busy doing what he enjoys most-sip his beer. I guess beer does this to you. You start mentally chumming and you tend to see the obvious, which otherwise had been overlooked or ignored for being so obvious. We started talking about society in India. And how some of the social norms get manifested in the way we fly kites. In India, kite flying is all about cutting others’ kites and ensuring that your kite is the only one that’s up there.

I do not know whether this emanates from the feudal culture of the society which is still seen in many parts of the country. Or, the spirit of competition is so ingrained in us that we can’t enjoy a simple fun activity by not being competitive. Or, is it the result of being highly territorial-trying to create a space for you among a billion others. Or, we simply derive pleasure from jeering at others. And what is most interesting is that even if you want to fly your kite ‘peacefully’, you will not be allowed to do so. It is really a jungle out there. We have to prove to ourselves and to others that we are omnipotent.

Of course there is a counter argument to this thought. People may feel otherwise-where there is no competition there is no fun. I think otherwise. There are still few things that can be done without any competition. It’s like playing a musical instrument where you often do not compete with others in a professional capacity. You just do it for unadulterated fun and at times for your peace.

I know that these are things that you learn in your childhood. They are strongly ingrained in all of us. How much ever we grow, after all, “Dil to Bacha Hai Jhi”

Whatever it is, it did make Niranjan and me think.