Conflict Between Luxury and Experience

I started my journey cursing the sun that never fails to suck the energy out of every Madrasi. When I could have taken the government transport (mind you, its air conditioned), I chose to travel by a private bus for the extra cushioned seats…little did I know.

On my arrival in Auroville, a peaceful hamlet tucked into the vast spaces around the violent sea, about 10 km before Pondicherry if you are travelling from Madras, all I wanted to do was crash in the spring bed of the hotel I had already booked. I decided I would do some cost cutting on comfort and spend more on experience. Therefore, I was welcomed to a non AC beautiful room. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon but my hands automatically went to fetch the non-existent AC remote in the room. Blame the humidity.

Having taken a long shower and eaten a Greek salad, which cost Rs 300, by the way (who cares about money when you have a hungry tummy?), I set out on my little bicycle expedition. My wish to visit the beach and get my feet wet in the sea water was shattered when I saw the garbage on the shores, making me ride back even without the feel of sand on my feet.

Riding on the slopes resulted in a wet t-shirt which was when I decided that it was impossible for me to spend the night in the hotel without air-conditioning. I spoke to the manager and paid extra for that one electric unit which we are so accustomed to, nowadays.

I realized then that amidst the thirst to travel, explore and be independent – the most overrated thing to do in any woman’s life, in my opinion – lies my inner struggle for comfort and luxury which I simply wasn’t ready to compromise on.

What can I possibly do to spend less on comfort and more on experience instead? I haven’t figured that out yet but hopefully before my next trip, I will. Because what is travelling without learning?

To give you my opinion on Auroville, it’s a place where you find those who are satisfied with very little they have and on the other hand those who are satisfied with all the pleasures that come with money.

Carry a book where ever you go, it never fails you

 

Can We All Be Journalists?

“…We believe that what journalists do, what they see as newsworthy, and what they take for granted as premises of their work are frequently well explained by the incentives, pressures, and constraints incorporated into such a structural analysis. These structural factors that dominate media operations are not all controlling and do not always produce simple and homogeneous results.” – Noam Chomskey, Manufacturing Consent

In this era of thinkers, analyzers and questioners, we have the power to be journalists – the power to question the law, the power to fight against unfairness in the system, the power to build a more democratic country. But why must we? Simply because we can’t remain spectators any longer, trying to question the loopholes in journalism and criticizing the media for doing what it does. It is time we realize that everything is going to remain the same – the media will be owned by those with big pockets, the journalists will do what is asked of them to do, nobody is going to risk their lives fighting for a larger community. As responsible citizens, maybe it is time we awaken the journalists within us.

Yes, it is unfair to generalize when there are a small number of journalists out there who stand up for responsible journalism. Responsible journalism is again a very subjective phrase because who dictates what is responsible? In a democracy, the freedom of speech is curbed even more for the journalists because the list of words/sentences that are “politically incorrect” becomes longer as the days go. We may assume that being journalists they are responsible to deliver information to us but what we need to think about is, are they in a position to do so? Even if they are, do they want to?

When I say information, I am not talking about the new projects that our state is undertaking, the foreign direct investment India is attracting – I am talking about investigative journalism; the truths, the facts and the information that is going to make us question the government. So if we are so dependent on journalists who are in turn dependent on others, there is noway we are going to see transparency in the system.

Can we become journalists ourselves? Do you think that could be a solution? Sometimes when I read the newspaper in the morning, I come across certain articles that raise a lot of questions in my head. I try to find answers to them by asking the opinion of others and of course, doing my own research on Google. I have never thought about trying to contact someone from the system itself, or maybe raise my doubts on a social media platform like Twitter where I can direct it at someone. But I have never done this because somewhere there is a fear of being criticized for voicing out rational thoughts.

Perhaps it is time now. Time for all of us to be responsible citizens and give some life to the term ‘citizen journalism’. In India, the power-distance index is low. Therefore, only when a larger educated community comes close together to raise questions and bring some change in what kind of information is transmitted to the common man and how, will we get closer to the government to be heard.

Of Chai and Much More

“You can’t get a cup of tea big enough or a book long enough to suit me”  -CW Lewis

He couldn’t have put it more perfectly. A cup of Chai is all you need to make your day. Especially when that Chai is freshly brewed the Iranian style. How did Irani Chai pave its way into the hearts of Indians?

All thanks to the Persians who settled in India years ago and brought the magic of Irani Chai with them. It’s not just the flavoured Chai they introduced but also the rich culture that has found its way into the Indian cities like Hyderabad and Mumbai.

Mumbai, the city of night life, the city of Marine Drive, the city of overflowing local trains and the city of Vada Pav has also been a city of the Parsi community. The Parsis are so intimately connected to Mumbai that they have established their presence in the lives of most Mumbaikars not just with their mouth-watering delicacies but also with their mad sense of humour.

Once again on my little explorations, I came across this Parsi restaurant in Bangalore and since then I have not just been telling myself that I need to go there someday but also been advertising about the place to all my friends.

When I finally did go there, was I overwhelmed! Should I tell you the story of my affair with the cup of perfect Irani Chai or the story of how my brain stopped functioning when I dug into the Maska Bun (which BTW you must try)?  No story will be good enough than the one you create yourself. But let me tell you one.

My relationship with food has always been a long lasting one and that will probably be the one relationship I will truly value. I wouldn’t say that the food I had in this vintage Parsi restaurant was the best food I’ve ever had. It was how the food was served, where I sat when I ate it, the kind of colours and lights I was surrounded by that made me feel like I should come back again and again.

While we enjoy the different types of food we get in our own country, we often fail to realize the larger aspect involved, which is Globalization. This Globalization led to the wide range of food items from all over the world being localized according to the taste buds of Indians. From the authentic English tea to Irani Chai, what do we not get here?

Thanks, not just to the Persians but to the Italian who makes the authentic pasta in a restaurant in Pondicherry, the French man who left his country to give us a taste of the French Toast, the German who devoted to teaching the Indian the art of selecting wine and thanks to the Indians who are introducing Roti and Dosa to the world.

 Signing off with a heart longing for a cup of tea.

Sea Talks

As the sun rises in the horizon and when the rays fall upon me, I glisten. Under that golden light, my waves blush and move forward to wash many a feet. I look up at the faces to see lost expressions.

There is an old man who stares blankly at me, the child with the tinkling laughter who throws shells at me, the lady who keeps coming closer, shedding drops of tears that merge with my salty water and the strong man who reveals the weakness within him. I am their keeper of secrets, the one they can trust. My waves take back the most cherished ones and bury them deep within me; so deep that I cannot find them myself.

As it gets darker in the evening, the feet disappear, one by one, leaving me alone once again, with the moon for company. She is very transient, the moon. I think that the moon and the people are all the same. They’re all ephemeral.

But still I open my wide arms for them whenever they desperately need me. After all, they are lost souls trying to find themselves in this chaotic world.

Expressions

Buddha, unaffected by external powers, in his tranquil state

I strongly believe that a person needs another medium through which they can express their thoughts and feelings. A medium other than just words. To me, music and painting are those mediums. I have often noticed that the colors I use while painting are influenced by my mood. My style is not to think about what to paint but rather, it is to go with the flow. It helps me determine my current state of mind, which in this case was tranquility.

An artist is not made up of talent or hard work. An artist is made up of the desire to be someone. An artist is made up of the spectrum of colors that passes the prism.

In my opinion, every person has to explore the depths of art. It not just lets you speculate but also clears your mind of unusual thoughts and lets you breathe. You get swallowed by a piece of painting once you start analyzing the details. That is what art does. If it doesn’t, then it is not art.

I wouldn’t ask you to go on and paint the world. But go on and splash some colors on a white canvas. Don’t give it so much thought because the artist in you might die.

“My Bookshelf says YES. My Wallet Says NO. “

What is it about books that lure us into the reading world?

Is it the words escaping out of the pages,

Or the way they are strung together?

A cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other

Is nothing less than the feeling of eternal love

For it is the one that lasts forever

Even when you grow weary and old

It is never in real world that you experience different worlds

But when you immerse yourself in reading,

You forget who you are and escape into your imagination

You’re among the dragons, flying with them

You’re swiftly racing with the wind

You’re stepping on fresh green grass and floating on the sea

You’re resting on the moon, watching the stars

You’re a fish, the sun, maybe a tree

You’re everything you can be and anything you want to be

However, there is one thing you do not know

Once you enter this world, there is no turning back

Feminism – the Distortion

I used to call myself a feminist for a short while and then decided to stick to ‘I believe in equality’. Some friends of mine told me that I should be proud to brand myself as a feminist but then in community where most people do not understand the real meaning of feminism, how does it matter what tag I hold?

Hence, I decided not to put a tag to myself. Ladies and gentlemen, feminism is believing in equality and not believing in more power to women. Feminism is when a woman opens the door for a man. It is not feminism when she frowns upon the act of a man opening the door for her.

I have always wondered why we complicate by giving two different terms when both mean one. Why does the term ‘feminism’ even exist when ‘equality’ is good enough? In the process of evolution, women have always been submissive and the rules laid down by those in ancient age have been strictly engraved in the minds of both genders that the possibility of ‘equality’ is deemed as probably the eighth wonder of this world. In such a world, it is obvious that ‘equality’ wouldn’t suffice and therefore came the concept of feminism which, over the years has received immense criticisms and interpretations.

I will start calling myself a feminist when the people I share this world with, understand clearly, that women are subjugated to the atrocities of domestic abuse and sexual assaults and it is perfectly alright for us to be feminists because it stands for equality. 

Kitchen Poems – A Treat to the Eyes and Ears

Since the day I moved to Bangalore, I always cribbed about how the theatre scenes are so much better in Madras when compared to Bangalore. Living in the outskirts for two years, I never got to witness the world of theatre.

Some of my friends mentioned Ranga Shankara quite often and it was only recently, when I moved to the centre of the city, did it strike me to go on my own explorations in this city – the city, that even after two years was still new to me. I booked my tickets for a performance by Padmavathy Rao called ‘Kitchen Poems’ written by Naushil Mehta. Ranga Shankara is a theatre facility located in JP Nagar, the heart of the city. When I entered the airy building that was buzzing with people in colourful clothes, I knew that I was going to keep coming back. With a bhel puri in one hand and chai in the other, I sat down at one of the corner tables to watch and hear everything around me.

From the second the performance began till it ended, I did not take my eyes off the stage. So beautiful was Padmavathy Rao in narrating how a woman’s life centres around a dingy kitchen of her house. The transition from an old woman to a little girl to a teenager and back to an old lady was wonderfully depicted.

It got me thinking that even in this modern age, somehow some people still believe that a woman belongs in the kitchen. In fact my mother still spends most of her time in the kitchen and neither have I wondered why nor have I bothered to help her out. She somehow likes it because it is her territory and she can do what she wants, make her own decisions, think whatever she wants, in her territory, with nobody to object, question or disturb.

Folks, while according to us, kitchen is just a place to cook and maybe munch on a few delicacies form the hidden boxes, it means much more to a woman who has the fire burning in her and in the gas stove for years now. 🙂

The New Phase

I felt like a star lost among the million stars in the sky.

It was the first day of my job and all that was going on in my mind was: Am I in the right place? So what if I wasn’t in the right place. The right place is what you make amidst all the difficulties you face. I have never understood the meaning of losing yourself and it came as a shock to me when I completely lost myself, not in work but in the ocean of talent that intimidated me. I forced myself to make an extra effort to be who I usually am but I was a whole new person  and I did not recognize myself.

I realized that everything doesn’t come easy especially when you are trying to make a successful career for yourself and are ambitious. You’re in a new city, in a new apartment, new faces, new job and you are dying to find familiarity around you. When you fail at that, you are shattered and you want to just go back to your cocoon and hide peacefully. Yes, that is exactly what I did. I wish I had an invisibility cloak so I could know what people were thinking about me. With multiple emotions floating in my head and tears rolling down my cheeks, I decided to embrace the new life because I am not meant to learn things the easy way.

I am sure we all go through this phase at some point where we feel lost and are trying to find ourselves in a hazy atmosphere. As difficult as it might be, remember to love the people who love you, remember to spend ample time with those who care for you, remember to tell your day’s stories to your mom or dad or sibling and most importantly remember that you are loved dearly and there’s a place for you in this world. It is really as simple as it sounds 🙂

Exit Through the Gift Shop – an Analysis

A summary of the documentary before you go on to read what my take is:

The story of how an eccentric French shop-keeper and amateur film-maker attempted to locate and befriend Banksy, only to have the artist turn the camera back on its owner. The film contains footage of Banksy, Shephard Fairey, Invader and many of the world’s most infamous graffiti artists at work. – Written by Sundance Film Festival

Exit through the Gift Shop, a thought-provoking documentary, shows how Thierry Guetta becomes an artist overnight; how he becomes a brand himself. I find a lot of similarities between Thierry as the owner of a vintage clothing store and Thierry as Mr.Brainwash. He buys clothes at a cheap rate, gives them a brand name and sells it to his customers at high rates. The customers buy the clothes just for the name tag it carries. Similarly, people appreciate and accept his art just for the brand name and not for what the art contains in its depths. Advertising culture can be associated with this. People are compelled to buy what advertisers offer although they see through the products. This is because of the culture that is built in them; the culture to buy a product for its name and not the value.

This documentary is a strong representation of hegemony and counter hegemony in our society. By trying to follow the footsteps of Banksy, Thierry is reflecting a hegemonic culture. Banksy has tried to influence people, who are not artists, to love art, where Thierry is just one example. Many other people stop and stare that the graffiti made by Banksy, thereby taking in graffiti as part of their culture. What Banksy has done is make people in his city aware of graffiti and ultimately appreciate it; he made graffiti a ‘natural’ and common culture, widely accepted by everyone else. Although people accepted the culture, they were not sure if everyone can be another Banksy. It remained an accepted culture, but not a practiced one. Even those who did not love art, started to see graffiti as a creative art form because in the culture industry, the only way to survive is by fitting in.

Thierry, by starting to love the graffiti culture, promotes himself as Banksy’s huge admirer and as a person appreciated by Banksy himself. He promotes himself as a normal person who began loving this form of art, thereby ‘countering’ the culture promoted by Banksy. Thierry makes people feel like anybody can become a graffiti artist; you don’t have to ‘know’ art for that. The people, who initially thought that graffiti are only made by those who are rebellious and disagreeing, came to think of this form of art as one in which anybody can be a part of.

Thierry developed into a brand so quickly that his successes or failures couldn’t even be consumed by him. He sold himself overnight to the people who believed him to be the one among them; a person who does something for the love of it. But looking closely, it seems like Thierry doesn’t actually know where he is going or what he is doing. From a man who sold clothes in a boutique, he became a highly acclaimed graffiti artist. Clearly he is not as artistic as Bansky or as thoughtful as Space Invader. Yet, he became so popular in no time. How?

First of all, the street art culture was imprinted in the minds of the people as a symbol of protest and power. The people thought that graffiti artists were people who were strong enough to voice out what they thought was wrong. In the public’s opinion, the street artists were quite mysterious because most for them did not reveal their identities, such as Bansky.  Thierry took advantage of the cultural phenomenon that is graffiti and of the fact that the public believe street artists to be mysterious, and revealed his identity to them. Bansky’s insecurity towards Thierry’s art was showcased by the media and people obviously bought it. The media made the public think that if there was someone who made the renowned Bansky insecure through his art, then that person must be of some significance. This is again with reference to the first paragraph where I have mentioned that people buy something not for the value but for the name it has. The media did the same; it sold to the public what it knew they would buy. The media sold the public an idea that Thierry is an upcoming graffiti artist who is as good as or even better than Banksy. The entire population who bought that idea was filtered by an existing culture and was branded by a seller which is the media here.

Thierry did not become a brand all by himself. In spite of all his efforts of getting the attention of the public, it was Bansky and the media that made Thierry into brand. It was Banksy’s comments which triggered the thoughts of people. To come to think of it, it looks like Banksy was in fact a part of this whole counter hegemony movement which Thierry intentionally or unintentionally activated. From what I saw, Banksy knew all along that Thierry would not do well as an artist but he still made him a key to change the existing cultural hegemony, to bring attention to graffiti as an art form, as a whole. To put it plainly, Thierry was a part of an extravagant play but without a script. In this entire process neither did Thierry know that he was becoming a brand/an image nor did the public realize that they were all players in this whole hegemony-counter hegemony act.

This brings us to think that although Thierry might have thought that he was a self-made brand, he failed to understand all the external factors that made him into a brand. These external factors are the cultures that are embedded in the society. Also, it hints us that anybody can become a brand if they want to, because in this world, we all need somebody to look up to and it doesn’t matter who that somebody is.  Whether this strange idea is a culture or what we believe is culture, is unknown.

Watch the documentary here: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1587707/