Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Religion ...naah for Chris-sake !!

I met quite an irritating  guy on my recent travel to northern Kerala, kind of the ones we would call a 'bugger' and feel the word doesn't have enough in it to mean what we actually mean. I prefer being alone in my travel, lost with a book in hand and gazing out of the window every other time, than indulging with fellow humans. Some might want to call me an anti-social for that, like my Appa, who thinks I am confining to myself, never accepting the existence of society and people. But then the post is not about 'what I would like to do, when I travel', but about this guy who kept bumping into me, with his banter, which I kept ignoring.

My guy, Alex asks my name, for we share a seat and then gets introduced himself. A christian aged about mid thirties and I leave it at that. Then he goes on to ask about my community. I tell him mine. He goes to ask my family name,which I tell him. Then he starts with a silly Pope joke. I act not interested and opens my book and he doesn't leave his pursuit. He starts of about the dark ages of European history or maybe we call it the World history, for Europe was the world and Catholic Church the ruler. Not quite in the manner, I described above.

Politics and religion, two powerful human thoughts or institutions, which should be kept at a distance, wasn't during the middle ages of Europe or more precisely the 1000AD till the 1500. And a lot of bad did happen. I look at him and still says nothing. He tells me he is a Protestant and I wonder, if two believers in Christ had so much of disagreement with each other, no wonder religions fight over each other. Jews are always at the throat of Palestinian Islam in the strip near the Mediterranean sea and bombs keep blasting throughout India. 

He goes on about the anarchy in the Church today, the Catholic one for sure. I feel the urge to not be pulled into a talk and let this guy, mind his business after his brawl. I tell him, I know nothing about it. He goes silent and then hits the sleep button straight off. My upbringing made me want to defend the Church, or I would rather say, the belief that there is a bigger power, God, the name I have given to it. The way my initial days were molded makes me believe the bigger power, whom I just now named 'God' for the sake of the Post, more Unitary in form and also think about the after death stage more in a rational catholic sought of way. If that makes me religious, then probably I am. My heaven is different, that is just the name, I have given the stage after death, it has knowledge and wisdom about creation !

As I listened to Alex, I wanted to tell him, "I agree Church has erred. Church did darken quite a good share of European History, with the Pope being the de-facto sovereign and the throne, the De-jure ones,  in France and England and almost all of other Europe. But then an honest human and a good man with a vision, did kneel down and apologized to the world for all the mistakes of the period, I meant the late Pope, John Paul 2. The Church has erred, so has every human institution, for men are not the idealist of beings.  And I find the late Popes act an unprecedented, noble act. For isn't it all we could do for the mistakes done, apologize honestly and I felt the man did mean what he said. But then another part of me, wanted to remain calm and get back to the book.

I couldn't read, but sat looking out thinking about what the man actually did to me. He made my religious sub-conscious or maybe something similar to that, get provoked.  I normally don't get irritated on accord of blasphemy to the Church or the Christian concept of God; for religious chords are the last ones of mine which gets pulled.

Alex's uncanny invasion into my privacy, should have been another reason, why it irritated me. He kept prying into my personal affairs, which never actually mattered to him, even when I kept showing him the door at many a repeated line. If he had just asked me about what is making me travel, that would have been a decent conversation to start with, between fellow travelers. But, this was un-called for, without knowing a line about my beliefs, he kept raising questions, which were offensive to any catholic in general. I like intelligent conversation on God, and peoples beliefs about that God, why they believe God exist and what form they think the God would be, if their beliefs is yes. I have my own beliefs which I hold good and we could reason, which one makes more sense, rather than degrade another and stand tall at the cost of the other. Talks on religion doesn't excite me to that an extent, but then on an histories perspective, is a conversation, I like having. But both of it is to be done, more in a manner fitting gentlemen, and not in shady language, with complete strangers.

Any prudent man, learnt enough to know about the dark ages, should also have the basic sense of knowing that religion is not the area to fiddle around with. Religion or rather each ones discovery or maybe invention, of the concept of the bigger power is as private as having sex; for yourself, to ponder or think and to act without crossing over to another person's belief in the bigger power. For the believers ultimately believes only in the bigger power, and they have conveniently named it and shaped it, for their purposes. They are sensitive areas of human psyche, beliefs that humans hold dear and shouldn't be treadled on callously.

Without ever knowing these very private things of mine, Alex was invading my space without being invited and I truly did fight the urge to make him feel snubbed, with my digs on Protestantism. I felt responsible enough or maybe as the religion lover in me would like to say, the snubbing was not a Christian thing to do, and I restrained.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

the BIG lawyer in town !!

This last week in Court was quite interesting an adventure with practice. There were some really big guns down here in the south, the Kerala High Court; Adv FS Nariman being the biggest of them. In the legal world, he is a luminary and I strongly believe even the Bench would have felt proud in having this eminent jurist argue before them. Every time the Bench rose, I saw them looking at him with reverence and bowing and he bowing his weak old frame in acknowledgement. That was FS Nariman and his charm, while my charm in some courts have made me a special piece of fun for the judge.

I walked in when my number was called, bowed down and said, "lordship, extension of interim stay on investigation?" All I hear is "for what?", then I was asked some sections of statutes I haven't even heard of, a round of humiliation, with me being the center character and finally a long walk back not knowing what actually happened.

While I was up and the above was happening, the number of another one of my senior's case in a different court starts flashing on the tv. Item 9, I was supposed to attend it and the number stayed on screen for 30 second and then moved to 10. I walk out humiliated and then rushes to the item 9 Court and by the back door checks with the Court Officer, what happened and she sends a chit back "No representation, dismissed for default". And it was an Appeal from the decision of a lower court which was dismissed. My clients property depended on it and now I had to pay costs to get the appeal petition restored. The law and the procedure, I can't make sense at times.

I get to a third court and my number gets called, the Hon'ble Judge asks me, "what is the status of the inquiry report?" I know that the report is ready, but I didn't know whether it was finalized. The client hadn't got back to us about it. We would receive it in a day or two and sought an adjournment till then. He looks at me in disgust and says, "you are specializing in that". In the same court yet again my number was called twice, and twice I got humiliated. Unlike before, the Judge did mouth his dislike and asked me whether I have lost my sensibility after wearing the black robe? and eventually the question, 'why do i wear it?'!!

Now all that was day before yesterday. Yesterday I had a case in a small town, in northern Kerala and I walked into the Court Hall, with my three buttoned blazer and shining shoes, sat in the front. Briefed the case, when asked to and sought time for filing some objections to their petitions. And I had 8 cases and I did the same for all. At the end of the 8th, after my request being granted, I feel the other few lawyers there looking at me.I bow down, and then sit.

After the Court, couple of middle aged lady lawyers comes to me, asks my name and where am I from. I tell them Ernakulam, and they asks me whether I practice in the High Court. I say yes. They asks me some names, which I do not quite know, and I tell them so. Then one of them calls her husband, another lawyer and introduces me to him, saying "this is Joseph, a good lawyer from the High Court". Little does she know about the day I just had before!

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

chums and women

Forgive me, if I make you feel ssshhhh with the name of post, cause your beliefs make you feel so. Please read no further, for I am quite sure the things below wouldn't seem appetizing for you. A blog I read recently talked about premenstrual syndrome and how girls felt during the chums made me quite not agree with the author and prompted me to write one up myself, the way I saw it, from the little I have read and seen.

I am not a woman to fully comprehend how it feels to be bleeding 5 days a month, but then that doesn't stop me from writing this post, from the perspective of a man, who has read about it and talked about it with some of them who bleeds. The actual feeling of helplessness, that a woman undergoes the time her fertility clock is running is never talked about in the sanitary napkin adds that I see. It talks about wearing the wings and why let just men have all the fun.

I remember keeping tab of an ex girlfriends 28 day cycle, just to be sure, that she doesn't catch me when she was there. For she picked up quarrels for the silliest of matters and was too delicate to be dealt normal, without the pamper of care in my acts and words. She was the women with wings to the world, but only her boyfriend, the poor me, knew how terrible a person she was to live with during the stage. The fights we picked up before the initial days of the 5 day ritual, invariably got forgotten during the end, when her's heart gets filled with all the time I was made to devote on her. The first time it happened, we were new in the relation, and I quite didn't see it coming. She kept bugging about me not picking her phone the first time she called and boy that was a scene. A silly scene at the end of which she sought refuge under the umbrella of PMS and I was supposed to be chivalrous and forget it.

A friend of mine tells me, she gets sexually excited just before her chums and yet she feels unclean to indulge in the act. The frustration breaks out into mood swings from the left to the right and the north to the south. Another friend once told me, the seclusion she is made to feel from everyday normalcy during her chums is what actually gets her mood-swing and feel irritated, just by the thought of the arriving discomfort. She understands the role she plays in propagation of the species with all the discomfort and the body cramps her physique is made to undergo and she finds it repulsive that her endurance of all that is not appreciated. That brings forth her PMS.

I aint advocating that PMS is all a notion in the head and nothing real, for I really don't know how stable my moods would be if I had to bleed some days every month. PMS could be real and the hormonal imbalances sure fluctuates the moods as well; but if women preach about equality, they shouldn't make themselves weak on accord of PMS. Every woman probably have a unique way of feeling while at it, but then she shouldn't let the swings before and during her chums spoil the chance of being an equal to the man.

a friend

I met a girl three years elder, while I was 15 attending a religious teenage retreat. I don't quite remember how I ended up there, but quite vividly remember that I was the youngest in the group of 200 odd teenagers, bursting with energy. I used to talk with her during the breaks about school and friends and she told me about her college and life in college. By the end of the week, we departed as friends, with a promise to write to each other.

She wrote to me from her college hostel, on an inland letter, which I still have in my box labelled letters. I wrote back to her, about some thoughts of mine, about people and about the things I was doing or maybe planned to do. She replied and the letters continued, making a lot of her friends familiar to me through her words.

I grew out of school and started living the life of a young college student, studying engineering as every other friend of mine was doing and the letters continued. She kept me updated with the incidents from her life, through her letters, to which I always replied back. I sometimes re-read the letters when alone and in one of her mails, she told me she does the same, at moments of gloom.

I was home after a fatal crash and being shown the exit doors of engineering, when I received a letter from her, describing to me the aroma of roasted coffee beans. I wrote to her that I would love filling my lungs with the aroma and not just with the thought of it through her words. On an impulse, I made the travel to her home and we spend a day talking, sitting in the family living room. Her folks, quite didn't grasp the relation we shared, but they thought it harmless, since I was younger to her by couple of years.

Time went sweeping and our letters got replaced by distant phone calls, when we tried update each other as to what all was happening.  Time was always short, but the care in the voice, the same. She knew about my girl friends, my habits and addictions, my interests and passions and the crazy thoughts on existence, which I always fancied.

She invited me for her marriage couple of years back, for which I characteristically never turned up. But she called me in a weeks time, to share with me the excitement of being newly married and never mentioned to me about my absence in her wedding. She kept calling me once in a while, to share a grief or a smile. I listened to her, but never had a word of comfort to soothe her griefs. She wanted to be a mother badly, but the 3 miscarriages and some sobs were all I got to hear for a long time.

I didn't hear from her for about an year and I never called her back. Three weeks back, I hear her voice over the phone, telling me, she gave birth to a baby girl the day before. I didn't know how to congratulate a new mother and I felt scrambling for words. I told her that I would turn up for the child's baptism and then we would meet. With a twitch in the voice, she hung up not letting me know, whether she believed me or not.

I woke up dreaming about her this Sunday while I was sleeping over at a friends place and I wanted to speak to her, badly. I rang her and she asked me, "when are you coming?" I didn't know when and I just said, "maybe today". She hung up saying, we will be waiting!

It was evening by the time I reached her home over the ghats and there she was waiting for me with the baby in her arms, when the auto-rickshaw stopped in the drive way of her parents home. She dialed up her husband and asked him to come in a jiffy and made me promise, I wouldn't leave today. She wanted to know the life I was leading, about which I have been silent with her for over an year. I told her bits and pieces and she tended to the baby listening to me.

After dinner, when everyone retired to bed, I kept prowling on the balcony, thinking about the strange relation we shared, we were never in romance nor related by blood. Our relation existed in knowing each others life to a good extend and that was all to it.

Her husband found me up and prowling on the balcony at 1am and he asked me "what happened?" I told him, "nothing, just not sleepy." He retired back to his room, with a smile on his face. Moments later, I find the shadow of a lady holding an infant and I turned back to see her, standing in the door way with the infant in her hand, held close to her bosom. I tell her, "you don't have to keep me company. I am good." She came closer and ran her fingers through my hair and said, "my dear, you existed way before I met my husband, way before I gave birth to the baby. You are my closest friend and my husband nor the baby can't take that away from you. Tell me about all the crazy stuffs you been doing recently"

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Mothers !

My mother tells me the other night, "we would want you to run the finance of the family. We will give you the bills we make and you manage the family." I had an instant reply to her, "Amma, I earn very little, and it would suffice only for a single mans needs and I can't permit myself to ask you for money to run the family." She stares at me for a long time, wonders whether I have more coming and she gets devoted with the preparations for the next day.

Just before she sleeps, she comes into my room and sees me engrossed in my computer and she looks over my shoulder and says, "you need to teach me this thing. I still can't make sense and thankfully my office is one of the rare ones, which is yet to be computerized." I tell her, "maa, we have tried thrice and still you can't figure the switches to be turned to get it on or to switch it off." She walks back from behind me to the door and I sensed her standing and staring at me from there, I didn't turn back.

I had a sense of being watched and I open my eyes, half living in the dream I had just left and I see my mother sitting at the foot of my bed. Not touching me, just staring, and then when she realizes that I am up, I see no change across her face. She tells me, "You are loving your freedom, but at the cost of a lot of things we hold sacred. We do not want our son to be just another me or your dad and feel the same things we felt or live the same life we lived or have the same dreams we had or believe in the same things we did and that is what is letting you have your way."

I was stunned, the most unlikely was happening, my mom and philosophical talks in the wee hours of morning, it can't be true. Maybe it was from the dream and she was only sitting there in real. My mind was yet to fathom the real and I mumble to her, "what..?" She tells me, "you should get married. Can we start doing something for that." I answer, "I have had my share of women and the longevity of a marriage doesn't excite me just for the act of sex and companion-ship."

She stands up and comes close, stares for some moments, smiles and tells me, "you indeed are loving your freedom, but at a cost of ours. We are growing old and maybe you should take over and let us live the dream we wanted to when we got close to sixty." There she was, just like before, reasoning and I knew, the philosophy earlier was real. She was appealing to my sense of respect for the individual and his dreams, with an emotional tinge. I gets back saying, "amma, what is stopping you from living your dream, quit your job and get doing with Appa, what ever your dream is. Don't bother about the three of us, we sure will live, and live in comfort. Your children are big and knows to take care of themselves"

She starts to leave, turns around and tells me, "My children, you are my dream!"

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Reminiscence of Valentines Day – an acceptance

Neetha lived for her dream, to spread her wings and soar high, into a considerable amount of wealth, which would buy her comforts and travel. She lived for her dream to a pile of green bills, way taller than her. A huge stack which would give her the little comforts she always required and for the travel she wanted to do till she stayed alive. But, it wasn't that she never bothered about the means, for she was as conscious of the mean as the end.

College was her first step to the dream, though nothing significant was to happen in the four years, it gave her the first step of freedom to start exploring her life. And as God send, beloved Ramu awaited her in College, with his innocent infatuation. "He was a good boy and not a man, maybe I shouldn't have held his hand and cuddled with him", she thought to herself. But then, she couldn't help noticing his efforts in the darkness of the movie hall, leaning close to the arm rest of her chair and the considerable discomfort he was in. She held his hand and leaned close to his chest and he being the gentleman never groped her and that became a habit, once inside a theater.

College initiated her venture into the world of understanding carnal emotions, a little up close and she swung both straight and cross. But then, it lacked the charm of her dream. No, mr Prince charming who came riding on a black stallion, was desired by her, for she loathed to share her dream. She lived wholly for the dream and by the end of college, she knew Ramu was crazily infatuated by her, posing a threat to her precious dream.

She knew deep inside that he wouldn't understand the dream, much less her desire to stay a spinster. He would beg and plead to make him a part, which she couldn't ever afford. Raising a family is his calling and not hers and one she never intended to make hers. The shortest month of the year was on and there was just another month left for her to put an end to all that the crazy block thought about her. He seemed crazy enough to live in her memories, if the infatuation wasn't stopped.

The valentines day was around the corner and she hinted about the surprise she had for him. She knew, this was the best day if there ever be one, for she wanted the day of romance to mend his heart for him. But little did she have a plan or even a clue as to what the surprise was to be. With a heavy clueless heart, she walked to college from the hostel on the morning of Valentines Day. She said a prayer in thanks for every hour, Ramu didn't make any stupid proclamations in the class, in the spirit of the occasion.

Gokul called her moments before the teacher walked in for the last hour, not to propose, but to ask for directions to the cafe near college. He knew it was some where around, but had never been there. He was jobless and no valentine awaited him, so thought better to see his friends perform in the cafe. She gave him the directions and told him to bring a bunch of red roses and propose to her, the time she got to the cafe. She didn't give him reasons, nor did he ask her why. She asked him, whether he could and she heard an affirmative growl from the other side.

Gokul was a friend's friend she had met some weeks back, he seemed intelligent and fun. She sat behind Ramu, holding tight in her fear of not knowing what awaited in the cafe and prayed her loud heart beats weren't felt by him. Not to her surprise the red roses greeted her and a little to her surprise, the band kept playing a corny romantic number staring at her, the time she walked to sit. She turned pink in embarrassment, when she listened to the corny lines through the speakers, proclaiming Gokul's love. "The smart ass not only did everything I asked, but then did it to perfection, without even a question and he does deserve a little gift", she thought the time he walked to her and bowed. She let him kiss her hands and then stood tall and kissed his lips, like a woman deeply in love.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Reminiscence of Valentines Day – a proposal

Ramu’s was a love which made true the old wives tale about ‘love at first sight’, for on the very first day of college he had fallen head over heels over the feminine form, who sat right beside him. When the introductions were given and she introduced herself, he fell more in love, this time with her sound. By the time the first hour got over, he had made plans about their future and even named the first kid, if it was a girl in his mind. After the hour, when she spoke to him and extended her arm in friendship, he knew, he never wanted to let go of that hand again; for he felt a jolt the time she touched him and his entire 19 years of existence on earth took a new meaning.

The fours years of college for him revolved around her, in the course of which he attained the tag, ‘my special friend’. He couldn’t decipher the many tags that young women in their late teens and early adolescence conferred to the males around them; for all his understanding the status of ‘special friend’ earned him the access to her palm in the darkness of the movie halls and invariably found her cuddling on his chest in the limited space that movie theatres could afford.

The first time the honor was bestowed still ran fresh in his memories. It was after the first few months of class when they had bunked classes and sat in the last row of the movie hall to watch a romantic soap; she enthusiastic about the movie and he marveling in the feel of her presence by his side. The protagonist in the movie, held the lady love in his gaze and started singing about love, and that was the moment, her hands slowly traveled across space and lay snuggled to his palm on his lap. His palm was sweating even in the air-conditioned darkness and she comforted him, by holding his hands tight, rubbing his sweat on to hers. She leaned slowly and whispered softly in his ears, “you are my special friend, Ramu. My one and only special friend.” He never asked her what a special friend meant, for all his little understanding of women, the label gave him his right to hold her hand the moment lights were switched off in the cinema hall.

The days of college were getting over, each day a painful reminder of the very little time with her for him. He knew that things would change with the end of college and they would travel in pursuit of their dreams. But, all his dreams were about her and she was the only dream he prayed and craved for. She told him about the Valentines Day around the corner and mentioned that she is awaiting a surprise on that day. She never told him what the surprise was, but then deep in his heart he thought, he knew, the surprise she awaited; proclamation of his love for her on the grand stage of Valentines day.

The morning of Valentines Day was unusually warm for the month of February in the high lands. Small beads of perspiration ran down over his body in the heat or maybe cause of the excitement about the act he was to perform in the evening. He replayed the planned scenes again and again a hundred times, eliminating all possibilities of a screw up and he checked his watch many a time, wondering whether each second was taking thrice its normal pace.

Ramu had chosen the ring after many a laborious hour in the new jeweler’s shop close to the college. The search had made him feel not once, but many a time that the staff in the shop wished to see his back, but then the mantra ‘customer is god’ written across the front of their name tags prevented them from voicing the thought. Walking home with the ring pressed closely against his heart, he felt proud of himself. Pride in the knowledge that his beautiful girl awaited the ring and the ring had been paid for with his sweat and not his dad’s green bills.

The much awaited rendezvous at coffee was almost at the door and he drove with his head held high with Neetha sitting pillion behind him, with her arms around his chest. He prayed that she didn’t feel the excitement his heart was in, but then her palms were pressed close against the loud ‘lubb dhhubb’ his heart was making.

The doors of the café was surprisingly held open for them, and a bunch of red roses gifted the moment she set her foot in, as if their arrival was awaited by the café staff.. A table was kept reserved for them and they walked slowly towards the lit candle on the corner table, with their palms pressed together. A band played the romantic song of the season, all through out and the moment they sat, a sudden hush devolved on to the band, as if the band had forgotten the lines to be sung.

In the silence a male voice boomed from the loud-speakers, as if he was humming a song, “I love you. I loved you from the time I existed and I have always been looking for you, from the darkest alley to the crowded streets. You are the reason my heart ticks and the reason I want to wake up every day. My reason to smile in times of tears and my aspiration during my low. From balls to bones, I am truly madly deeply in love with you NEETHA”.

Ramu didn’t quite hear the last line, but knew something was wrong, the moment a shape started walking to them as soon as the hymn stopped and Neetha had tears in her eyes. A guy almost his age, smartly dressed in whites, floated to their table and held his palm out to her, with a bow. Ramu failed to understand the story unraveling, and didn’t quite know why she took the strangers extended hand and blushed. The stranger kissed her fingers and slipped on a ring, kneeling down. With tears swelling in her eyes she raised him and stood on her toes seeking his lips, engulfed in a passionate kiss, forgetting the world around.

Ramu sat in silence, his face pale like a ghost, fighting the desire to run. His hands were hidden inside the pocket, fiddling with the ring he had bought to proclaim his love. Neetha basking in the aftermath of the passionate kiss noticed him and said, “Ramu, remember the surprise I said about valentines day? This is the surprise. Gokul, my ‘one and only very special friend’.”

The world celebrates the day of romance tomorrow; a day devoted to all those in love to celebrate the romance in their lives. The notion that romance needs a special day to be celebrated is a much debated topic amongst the advocates of tradition and culture and on many a time in the immediate past led to incidents violating the right to human life of the citizens, caught in the wrong places. I do not stand to rebuke the contentions of the advocates of culture, nor do I stand in support of the hype brought to Valentines day, thanks to Archies and Hall Mark and other brethren of theirs. For I believe it is for the individual to decide, what he thinks about the Valentines day and his opine cannot be coerced in support of the traditionalist and the capitalist.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

a teacher, who knew her students

I was with my friends the other day, a few of them from college and some still in college talking about glorious old days of studying law. The fun we had and the characters we met. A thing that surprised me was what starling difference the concept of exams, are to us, now speaking couple of years after that. For me and quite a few I know, exams never happened without going through the shortest guide at least once and for a many other, it was indeed a battle, fought against the teachers or maybe more appropriately against the system of examinations. They devised means to defeat the system, exams were never fixed, but they mastered the art to beat it within itself by the oldest trick in the school, copying. All I have the permission to say is that it involved a University law relating to time of entry, the wonder called mobile phone, the micro-settings of xerox. I knew about it, but then didn't ever bother, for they weren't doing me any harm, and the matrix lover in me loved the thought of they beating the system. The blog ain't about my friends nor the tricks of the exam, but about a teacher, who knew her students, a true account of what my friends mr X and mr Y told me the other day.


It was University exams the next day and Mr X had no idea of where to start reading for exam, pun was the subject was huge and crazy and the text books voluminous, forget textbooks the guides too were not less than 200 pages. It was his second go at the subject. To top it, there were some personal commitments to the general cause which required his presence for the entire night. AAhh mr X was a social activist as well. A socially aware young man, with dreams in his eyes, but then maybe committed to the wrong cause, that is what the teacher saw in him. But he always felt she failed him the first time for his choice of cause.

The teacher sees mr X at his place of dharna in the evening, calls him to her side and asks him about the exam. He tells her his dilemma and she asks him to join her and she teaches him all through the evening and tells him the areas to study and not surprisingly to his luck it was the same teacher who had set the questions.

Mr Y was fresh from a shower after a party for the exams. There was surely a consistency in the exams, this one and the one he took for the subject the last time. The questions sure looked alien, he looked around and then up, cursing his stars. He was sweating and he thought about the scene unravel in his traditional house when the news of their son failing the exam crashed in. The first failure was never mentioned and now if the second one occur, he couldn't avoid the inevitable of his father dropping down at college and get a good grip of the other supplementarys and 'what not' an overly pissed teacher had to say.This was his last go and now seems his little efforts in holding his fort stands ruined.  He too had dreams, though like a kids. For his dreams the teacher liked him, she liked his innocence and the boy in him, which dominated. Though he was clueless.

The teacher sees mr Y covered in sweat and peeping into a neighbours answer sheet. She for one knew the neighbors answers were no good, for she was their teacher for some years now. She goes to mr Y and asks him in a stern short voice, "ain't you not ashamed? Whose answers are you peeping into?" then raises her voice a little more and says "Mr Y, go sit beside mr X." Mr Y walks cursing to the side of mr X and finds his answers sheets overflowing. Looks up and falls on the leg infront of the teacher in his mind, offering a prayer in silence, sets of  to his talent in borrowing information from the neighbours answer sheet.

Mr X and Y, both cleared the exam and surprisingly for them mr Y had more marks than X.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

porn in the HOUSE

I live in a democracy where legislative sessions are turning to be less political and more porn oriented for some elected representatives. Being fair, I shouldn't say some, but three. But then when I think about the act on a nations perspective, it could be called only as bad as the act of Mr H.D. Devegowda, the earlier prime minister of ours, who had this habit of sleeping on republic and independence days, while the nations flag was to be hoisted. A man couldn't be blamed if the mere thought about that Premier in the comforts of the Parliament hosue gave him spells of laughter and gave him butterflies thinking about the affairs of governance.

Watching porn while the house is in session and while an important talk is on, let us forget it for a moment and try think about them as Men; and the first line that comes to my mind is from the silly advertisement saying men will always be men. If the Minister and his friends were thought about as just men, I find not much wrong in what they were doing. I know a lot of us watch it or have watched it, sometime or the other. A lot many of us did carry disgusting, yet funny/perverse stuff in our phones or some mode of digital memory. He was watching porn. What is big in it? Not much, as long as he keeps his hands to himself, I find nothing wrong. For sure never on the morality side !

You tell me innocent females are kidnapped and trafficked for the growth of the industry, yes that is for sure a wrong committed on the fairer sex. If all of us who have ever watched it, for information or pleasure try remember all that we have seen, I think not many would remember actual rape videos or drugged videos. The people involved either try be good actors, or indifferent, but invariably in most of the fairer sex members were willing enough to be shot.

Yeah with the mobile phones coming and the hidden cams, there sure comes a new category of females who end up being cheated or violated, with the hidden cams and too loving boyfriends. But then taping a female without her consent or knowledge in itself is a different act from watching the porn, so watching porn can't be said to be a wrong on that account alone, when primarily both the acts are different.

Speaking like a man about porn, my heart would be true if I say, "Some people stop watching it, some do not". I guess about all the men, except I do not know who, has had a vigor in the loins when he watched or listened or saw porn at some stage in his life; some kick it, some do not! Watching porn by itself for one make the man a threat to female modesty, I do not for a moment believe. As a personal act, it is not worthy of the attention.

Thinking about the act on the perspective of time of a legislature of a State in a Socialist Secular Federal Democracy, it was a sin. A sin which has its roots in the idealistic thought that in a democracy the true will of the people is being expressed.  The so called expression of the power of the people, of the ignorant masses who is struggling to earn a meal and many dying in their efforts. The poor man is naive, he has other priorities and little is he bothered about how the State is run. He needs the subsidies, he needs the benefits from the government and he doesn't realize it is his right in truth to live his life like a man with human dignity. But instead he believes these as the grants he been allotted for casting his vote for a particular symbol. And he elects the one who promises more!

Political theories on the theory of existence of state, talks about man surrendering his will for the general will, and the general will becoming the sovereign. In exchange for the surrender of his will for the general will  he is offered primarily protection, then the food and comforts, as the sovereign progresses. But the naive man of the masses, doesn't know the theory of existence of state, much less Austin and his sovereignty and he is happy voting for his subsidies and grants. To represent his will he elects the Sleepers and the Porn Surfers! 

Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely - Lord Acton

NB:-  The fame seeker in me wishes for a civil war and getting a chance in riding the waves from the feet of the nation till its head and finally been anointed with nothing less than the title, "father of Modern India" in the history textbooks.
I was quite surprised catching the scroll on Times Now the other day; it read, "minister caught watching porn in assembly". Felt funny and thought would read about it in the weekend. Not-surprisingly, it doesn't share prime time any longer on the tube. News, worth two days and not longer !
Thanks to the archiving quality of internet, I read my share of men caught in a very embarrassing act. I searched for "pornography in karnataka assembly" and there was not one personal blog in the first four google search pages. Added, ", blog"  to the search term and there turned up Mr Naqvi and a Chatterjee with his Bengali blog. Even more surprised, no other blogger (hhhmm say web-logger) had nothing to say on it. The new privacy laws and some weird bans on social networking sites affecting blogger world or what? Or is my imagination running too wild? 
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