Rozaana......

Rozaana..I like..do not particularly dig the start of the song (may be it's got to do with B's voice..was never a fan of neither his acting nor his voice and never really could understand the hype about him. No, seriously!)..but as it picks the pace...love the lyrics...it forms a great song for my runnin'...[which I have been royally ignoring...(sheepish grin)...] collection!

Rozaana - Nishabd ...

Big guys...

Gandhi, Tagore, Ambedkar argued..

"that it is our capacity to be moral that allows us to constitute ourselves as a people and nation.The purpose of democracy is to widen the scope of virtue in the public realm. A modern corporate, however ethical, is not a civilisation whose objective is to allow each person to elevate moral life."

But what the heck did they know....Narendra Modi is on the roll (& [in]sane peeps keep nagging him) and that is why we love him..and can never get enough of him.

Because after all, we don't like barbaric killing to soothe our conscience and it's too much on your face kind, you know but soft killing and sleek corporate cleaning of tribal and farmers is acceptable, since they constitute waste anyway and form stigmatic presence to our modernity. Yes, I love to be modern!

P.S.: Something terribly wrong with my blog formatting setting. Help is welcome or else hold your peace till I figure it out!

AIDS Sutra: Dark side of the night

Array of emotions race through piecing together vignettes of untold stories of nights filled with wretched desire, power, ostracized and suppressed emotions and a glimpse of fractures of alienated society. Some familiar, some eye-opening but mostly unacknowledged stealthy existence as we hear about AIDS epidemic, moving as swiftly as the speed we are diluting our value-system. Each voice in stories carries a resigned acceptance through broken spirit and sends a reminder of societal follies and failures we have chosen with arrogance of ignorance. AIDS Sutra, Untold Stories from India carries deadweight of all this and much more from isolated world of “India Shining” development.

Human dominance over nature, technological breakthroughs and other human beings has been a running theme over generations. Slavery is a direct consequence of it and so is thriving prostitution and coerced sex industry. With time, hierarchical power structure has exchanged role with monetary power. Hence Devdasis have been renamed as sex workers/prostitutes or something fancier I am not even aware of. I see AIDS epidemic as merely a consequence of something deep rooted in a pretentious model of precarious civilized society. Spread of HIV is directly linked to one of most persistent propensities (but widely undermined and lacking explicit acceptance) of repressed egos of human beings-sex.

Snippet from introduction of the book, “There were about a dozen women there, wearing their best saris, gold necklaces, flowers in their hair and bindis on their foreheads.” “This group of women had all been ostracized by their families and neighbors. One woman had hoped to keep her work a secret from her husband and children. But when word got out, her daughter was disowned by her friends. The girl was so distraught that she committed suicide.”

As I see from “society” perspective on flesh business, we cannot live without your existence but we cannot accept your presence of services you provide. Such is the dogmatic hypocrisy we have become comfortably numb with. Calling it shamelessness would be too harsh because after all, women are born to titillate the libido senses with good looks before they surrender their body.

Amartya Sen points out in his foreword of this anthology, “ since epistemology is so central to a well founded ethics- to informed reflections on the social and political commitments that the calamity inescapably demands. If we move from depiction to perception and from reflection to compassion and resolution, all this happens, as in good literature, without self-conscious effort. This is a huge achievement.”

Kamathipura (Mumbai), Sonagachhi (Kolkata), Peddapuram (Andhra Pradesh) are all different hues of the same pale shade of diseased poverty. And contemporary authors like Kiran Desai, Salman Rushdie, Sonia Faleiro, Siddharth Deb and many more have traveled, heard, experienced the dejected side of dark & small rooms and prettied/decorated faces to bring out pulsating and deeply moving stories.

Few snippets from the stories:

We are famous because we are the descendants of courtesans and royalty, so we have that poise, those fine looks,’ the Kalavanthalu women say. No special tricks? No Tricks. We are known for our good manners. We treat a man like a king. We’;; cook non veg, we’ll give oil massages and baths. We turn on the fan. The men bring the whiskey, the McDougal’s-but everything else we provide, and when they leave we beg, Don’t go, please don’t, oh, don’t go, oh..’ we do all of that play acting. We spoil them.

Night Claims the Godavari- Kiran Desai

It’s worth emphasizing the way prostitute was regarded at the time, and indeed in ancient India. If a woman was beautiful and talented; if she could sing, dance or converse intelligently, why should she waste her skills on one man alone? Why shouldn’t a number of men enjoy her company? That is why a prostitute was called barnari or barangana- meaning public woman.

Return to Sonagachhi- Sunil Gangopadhyay

Of course, there are times when there is pleasure,’ said Rani Bai. Who does not like to make love? A handsome young man, one is gentle..’ She paused for a moment, looking out over the lake, smiling to herself. Then her face clouded over: ‘But mostly it is horrible. The farmers here, they are not like the boys of Bombay.’ And eight of them every day,’ said her friend Kaveri. ‘Sometimes ten. Unknown people. What kind of life is that?’ ‘We have a song,’ said Rani. ‘Everyone sleeps with us, but no one marries us. Many embrace us, but no one protects.’

The Daughters of Yellamma- William Dalrymple

Allow me to shake your faith...

She says and she does if you happen to read Greater common good. Fight for justice, Narmada Bachao Andolan, which has made to become symbolically a solemn farce for decades in name of developmental jargon promises to millions who get affected. I will leave the rest but couple of things as Roy puts it, are worth reiterating ...

Misinformed Emotionalism is about our presumptuous paradigm for development that it's based on inherent morality. It would work perfectly, if only we were better human beings. If only we all wore khadi & suppressed our base urges- sex, shopping, dodging, spinning lessons & being unkind to the less fortunate.

Assumption of inherent morality is a very risky path, I realized it. I do not deny that few don't have it. But large numbers are driven otherwise.

Revolutionary Road ahead

She surprised love. All grand serene romance, she held closely....tucked in those warm moments...some spilled out of her hands...some contained tight. Sure she was...confident not.

Snow didn't seem so white...melancholy was pristine. She shrugged off those romantic gestures a few times or so she thought.

She dived deeper in those brown eyes looking for the man she had once, ecstatically fallen for. Surprise! Conviction was missing this time, convincing could do little. She did not know, time role-played in emotional erosion, covering with those layers of not so sanctimonious gestures.

She penetrated truth, raced ahead, ran away or did she? She is at the finish line, all by herself, though. She is afraid to turn her head...his warm, amber, sparkling, sand-grains filled smile she wants to hide from.
........
Saw this movie, y'day...
Echoing similar sentiments was Revolutionary Road...a couple once fell deeply in love in a quick glance. He (Frank) settled for less, is weaker, but winds up disappointing his wife, April, who is ambitious, emotionally trapped and struggling with a man whom she wants him to be but he is not. Sensational and dramatic turmoil of human emotions for wanting to love or be loved in their own way, where, neither are sure. Not sure, Whether they are running away from the perfection of suburbia life they have or from each other. Poignant desperation leads to void attempts of exploring..explore, they do. They were not made for each other, she could not salute the fact her man is not the best self and cannot be his best self, ever.