no shades of grey

The last couple of weeks have been really hectic for me. Things are just going as crazy as they can get. I suddenly feel that there is no need for me to plan my day as it seems to have a mind of its own anyway. Everyday I get up thinking of something but some or the other surpise always awaits me. Be it at work or be it with friends.

Which makes me think that while I do enjoy the whole process of rushing to work, working really hard (or sometimes hardly :)) and then running off to catch up with friends (and there are multiple groups mind you) is it really worth the adrenalin rush? Why do I seem to have no time to look at things around me, forget appreciating them. After a week of sunshine, the clouds have suddenly burst open. But I don’t even have the time to enjoy the last few days of monsoon.

I remember that as children, my friend and I would make it a point to visit all Ganpati pandals on our way home from school. The one factor that lured us was the free prasad, black grams and peppermints that were distributed. Cut to present and I haven’t visited any of my friends and relatives for the festive season leave alone any sarvajanik pandal.

Another incidence that has always stayed with me was the Mount Mary Fair. Every September, without fail, my mother would take my brother and me to the Fair. We had our own agendas obviously. She for her faith, we for the giant wheels and merry go rounds. But we used to wait one whole year for that one day in September where we would freak out. Its not that one didn’t play on giant wheels etc. but doing the same during Bandra Fair was something else. The different stalls selling a variety of toys, women waiting to tattoo the arms of believers seemed to send me to an Enid Blyton kind of world. However the foodie that I was (and still am), my favourite stalls were the ones selling roasted black grams and the various jaggery coated sweets. The sight of men roasting and piling the black grams in huge mounds never failed to amaze me and it is a sight that’s still vivid in my memory. My mother though kept a sharp lookout for the stalls selling canes being a firm believer of “spare the rod and spoil the child.” This was something I absolutely detested about Bandra Fair and thought it was very unfair that they sold weapons to beat children and vowed that when I grow up and become the Chief Minister (oh! my fancy dreams), I will ban these guys from selling canes, whips, etc. Alas! its been almost a decade since I have set foot at Bandra Fair. I not only hate the crowd but also find everything out there juvenile and would not be caught dead sitting on one of those swings. What has stayed with me though is my love from roasted black grams and I devour it every year when my mother gets it for me.

At some point in my life, devoid of any kind of pocket money, these were small joys that I indulged in. However I suddenly feel that with all my financial independence today and access to other things of enjoyment and luxury, I find myself more drained out than rejuvenated. As poet W.H. Davies said:  

“What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.”

How true. When I had all the time in the world for recreation and merriment, I didn’t have the means. And now when that has ceased to be a problem, I realise that I have no time. I have read authors and poets describing the flowers on the sidewalks, the dawn and the dusk. I have also read about the ever changing colours of nature from red to purple to green to brown. Maybe I am missing something. Maybe I am running too much and need to slow down. Maybe its time I tell myself to wake up and smell the coffee. 

On Sunday I attended my first ever Independence Rock (I-Rock) in Bombay. Must say it was a unique experience considering that I am not particularly a hard rock fan. It was indeed great to see hundreds of twenty-something youngsters sporting black t-shirts of their favourite rock bands like Metallica, Sepultura, Iron Maiden and others. Head banging with a fervour that only a true rock enthusiast would, gender no bar.

However what struck me the most (and literally) was the amount of hooliganism that went on in the name of rock. The ground echoed with profanities of all kinds. And the crowd was egged on by the different bands on stage. Abuses like f****r, m**********r and b*******d seemed like the ongoing chant. Not only this people seemed to derive some sadistic pleasure out of hurling empty Coca Cola and Kinley PET bottles. It increased to such an extent that even the innocent birds flying in the sky seemed like one of these plastic missiles cruising your way. Not to mention the fact that yours truly was also not spared. Though it was not yet night, I swear to seeing stars after one Coca Cola bottle landed on my head. This apart from a filled mineral water bottle landing on my unsuspecting friend and wetting his derriere in the process. It didn’t help that the lead singers innovatively weaved lines like “Stop throwing those bottles”, “Don’t do this” etc. in their lyrics. This just encouraged the crowd to hurl those bottles on the stage. Whether they wanted to boo them off stage or was it some new way of showing appreciation is anybody’s guess.

Which brings me to the million dollar question – have we misunderstood the meaning of ‘independence’? Freedom does not mean the right to do anything that will inconvenience others. It merely is an outlet for you to do something constructively or do things your way albeit without being a nuisance to those around you. If flinging bottles is your idea of fun, please do so but on your head and not on anybody else’s. Because what’s nectar to one is poison for the other.

Also another thing that I fail to understand is this fascination with profanities. How does abusing your mother and sister (or anybody else’s for that matter) give you any kind of relief? Why not create abuses for your father or brother, which women can also use? So the equation is right. It is sad that the womb that bears them or the hand that ties rakhi on their wrist is the one that is the least respected.

C’mon guys, grow up. We don’t live in hinterlands or notorious places to behave like the way those people do. For all your education, westernised outlook, hip culture and cool quotient, a mouth that spews toxins like a gutter does not do any justice to your personality. The Bible says, “do unto others as you would have them done unto you.”

It’s time we applied this saying to our daily lives and took responsibility for our actions apart from respecting others. Only then can we truly live the mosh mania of I-Rock…

Nourishes a self within herself

Never bothering of the sacrifice

Garnering a hope that someday

Life’s better side will show its face.

                                         Poisoned milk her diet forms

                                        Garbage dirt her mattress warm

                                        Clothed in soil the natural form

                                        “No more breath” is the norm.

Vultures flying high and low

Circling the prey, won’t let go

To keep her I’ll strive

Why oh why! In my womb she thrives.

                                    Flesh and blood of your loins

                                    Killed her ‘coz she’s got no groin

                                   Scalpels have many a voice stifled

                                  Between whispers hushed and muffled. 

Futures won’t have new lives

Husbands won’t have any wives

Brothers will have no sisters

‘Coz Fathers don’t want any daughters. 

                                   He is man and they are men

                                   Wrench my heart they easily can

                                   I am she and she is me

                                   Kill her I’ll let not thee. 

Nourishing a self within my self

Never wanting anybody’s help

Firming a resolve that one day

Life within me will see the light of the day.                          

well…well…finally the technologically impaired me has decided to give my fears a go by and opened my blog id.

I was first introduced to this term blog way back in 2002. But honestly could never figure out what its purpose was. Slowly this term grew like wild fire with everyone talking about it. Having your own website or webpage was passe, a blog id was the in thing. Everyone i knew was into blogging irrespective of whether they could write or not (so there went another misconception I held that to be a blogger one needs to have a way with words).

Well, finally egged by friends and colleagues I am venturing into hitherto unknown territory. My writings are my views of everything that happens in and around me. As my title suggests, I view things in black or white with no shades of grey in between. I will tell it exactly the way I feel it, which might include a whole spectrum of emotions straight from the heart.    

So if you like what you read…great…if not…then thanks for reading anyway 🙂

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