Interdependence: an alienating yet comforting concept

                          As a part of a new city, I have recently met a number of new people. I came to the city without any friends, without any acquaintance for the matter. In a period of a two weeks I have seen and experienced a number of, what I will politely call, interactions (although farce would be a better word) between individuals in social groups. Mumbai as a city has left a mark on me, I would love to explore parts of it in details but the one thing that struck me hard is the fact that there is a certain amount of interdependence between people in a city full of strangers.
Yet, even though interdependence is common to all, there is a lack of communication, of building a relationship based on trust. What I wonder is how much of this interdependence is real and to what extent can one bend to be a part of this human need for some form of support?
                  I am today a part of this well-known college, (which I shall not name for obvious reasons) and in the two weeks that I have attended classes, I have seen groups, people who bitch about each other, students who refuse to make use of opportunities provided, a place where the need to be social overcomes the need to be real and true to oneself and at times even to be rational!

             Outside college I have made some friends, although using the word friends is somewhat of a stretch. Being an outsider and a newbie (pardon my free English), I was surprised that everyone in the group, had over the period of a week, confided in me against someone or the other member of the group. I must confess that when I had first met the collective lot, I had been surprised by the unity that was portrayed, and believed that this was not one of those dysfunctional groups. What's that saying about counting the chickens? In class the other day, a teacher said, be more hopeful, less cynical, and have faith that realism and idealism can  coexist. But with each day, a little of my pink tinted glasses darken.
                   I am fast starting to believe that human nature requires the fulfillment of certain desires and needs. In a lonely city with lonely people, being together is easy, being a part of a group is safer than being alone. The diabolism of human nature does not allow one to be completely silent on what one perceives as wrong, yet one cannot make do alone, so the need for interdependence has to be satisfied, and is; through crazy mixes, through formal smiles, through little sounds, which hide yet reflect the silent plea of a resigned yet hopeful spirit!  

Mumbai: A new shattered beginning?

                      I have never been a morning person, in fact before coming to the city that is refereed to the city of dreams in India, I rarely saw the morning light before 9 or at times even 10 am. But, as any person living in Mumbai will tell you, its a city that never sleeps, and a place where people who sleep too much get no where...quite literally, as the travelling in the locals is a novelty that requires years of practice and dedication. In fact the first thing that I learnt when I came to the city was just this, travelling in the local. It is the best way to avoid the morning traffic, and the incessant rain (yes, I am one of the unlucky [or maybe lucky few[] who shifted to the city during its infamous monsoon season) and reach places which one is far removed from. I am sure that there are thousands of articles stating their experiences in the city, the local travelling, the food, the beach, marine drive, and all of that....

                 But for me, its different. For me the city is the bustling bubble of energy with a backdrop of natural beauty, that takes my breath away even when I am squashed between lord knows how many other women fighting for space to stand! Its the fact that neither the rain, nor the relentless attack of the underworld or the terrorists or a crazy drop in the stock market has been able to take away from its pulse, which beats faster and stronger with every attack, becoming a life force of its own. I love the way a person can just be themselves, in a city where numbers will never be a problem, where space to live is as hard to find as pearls in the increasing polluted sea bed.

                 As a person who has always survived in her own head even while co-existing with the world around her, I wonder just how much of the city was in me before I came here, and how much of it will always remind me of myself, the contrasts, the harsh realities, the demands, the strength to just be. The city has a beauty that comes from the merging of the old and the new, where one can see an Esplanade House standing next to a 115 storey building and still being able to charm with its grace, something that reminds me of my hometown, my beloved Calcutta. So here is my tribute (for what its worth) to one of the few cities which has made me feel so much in such a short time (5 days!!!), the industrial heart of the country with a special heart of its own... Mumbai

Fiction: A strange Reality

     Recently I have had a lot of time on my hands, as I am not nothing much to do, waiting for classes to begin. I am not going out much, coz I am feeling highly anti social, and the people I talk to have started bugging me also, all except my bff of course, who somehow can make me smile right in the middle of my tears... its a gift I swear. Anyways, all this free time has allowed me to catch up on all the stuff that I have been missing, mainly movies, music and my lovely books.

           When I used to read as a child and just hang around, there was so much that I was missing that I kind of catch now, the leetil messages in each song, the story being told by each expression...I mean ya, some movies just make you wanna hurl, but there are others that allow you to grow. Some stories that have a clear message, while there are others that just let you be, leaving the messages in many folds, allowing you to turn a blind eye if you want to. Yet the question that one needs to ask is, does it all go away?
             I believe that in the movies that I watch, the books that I read, the music that I hear I see part of the world that I couldn't before, allowing me greater perspective of the world, allowing me to realize the various threats that are present in society, without ever coming face to face with them. In a way it helps me prepare for if and when the instances come into my life. Today, I am learning to adapt in way I never thought I would have to,  due to a simple enough reason, that of need. On the screen I have seen life forces make people take new paths, adapt and rise as the phoenix does from the ashes of their own destinies. Its something that I myself am going through, relocating to foreign city, where I don't know the popular culture, the lifestyle, not even the local name for something as essential as onion and potato!

            There are days when I retreat into the fiction world, a world made up of wisps of fog in my own head,  a world of my own creation to escape the real world, there are days when they both merge leaving me a leetil dazed but surprisingly happy. I hope that everyone is able to enjoy this form of living once, of simplicity, of the unknown, of living in a simple world of someone's creation and imagination....I hope everyone can loose themselves and find themselves, in a manner similar to mine.
                   

                            

change: coz i love single worded headings :P

               All the world around me is talking about change, the change in the government being one, the change in lifestyle, the change of the economy. Talk to your grandparents, and they tell you about the yonder years about how beautiful it was in its simplicity, how it has all changed. But isn't it weird that although all of us change, some even advocate it to others, no one essentially wants to? I look at my friends, look at my parents, look at human being as a whole, and everyone wants to return to a time in the past. It actually got me wondering, do we all remember the past because we can relive it, or can it be that the fast moving society, the evolving individuals just want and seek the simple joy of life itself and nothing more? Even the best seller in the world changed, from the old testament to the new.

                 Lets look at the change that has come about in my state. As a resident of West Bengal, I have been a witness to something that is being called a new history by some, the media going crazy trying to predict the effects of the change, people just talking about the change that the state has undergone and the achievement. But when we look at it closely, is it really a change? The green taking over, the red dying out, but after 34 years, has any one stopped to ask, what exactly is the change? Is it the transformation of the CPI (M) from a communist party to one more based in accommodative politics and turning towards the corporate world for support, in other words changing into its original enemy? Or is it the state helping a lady come to power with overwhelming support, who voices the ideas, the belief that was once upheld so high by her biggest nemesis CPI (M) at its initial years? I wonder if in 34 years we will witness another change, where the green will be supportive of the capitalist belief. Today, the green symbolizes the left more strongly than any other party, which then makes one question, is one voting for change or are we just supporting an ideology so lost in the history of the state, that it needs a new voice, a new colour to come back?

                        In my personal life too, the concept of change seems to disturb me. The first ofcourse that the past always seems better than the present, and that when the present becomes the past, we feel nostalgic bout that too! But more importantly, it is the fact that one expects the person around to never change, although we ourselves keep changing. I don't even know when I go crazy myself. The other day I screamed at my mom, telling her that she has become so different, and her reaction was nothing, just a silent stare, that made me pause and think. She was different of course, but nothing better could be said of me, in fact I was much worse than she can ever get, which freaked me out. I mean I didn't even notice the change, but there it was, staring me in the face. We want our parents to still pamper us, bear with us, while also expecting them to treat us like adults, and to top it all of, we blame them for the change! And we do it with everyone, which is why I wonder, is change all that its made out to be? Aren't we all just looking to be the same, for the simpler days when the world wasn't scary?
                   I dont think we are, I believe we just like to remember those days to make ourselves realize what we were. where we came from, and hope what we will be. Because no matter how much we change, we all remain the same, same name, same thoughts, same beliefs and if we are very very lucky, the same loved ones!

Control: A weird reality

              I remember a time, when the biggest thing in life was sleeping till 7 am and being able to read without any interruptions. As a grown up, life isn't easy; in fact it gets more difficult with each passing moment. As far as I can remember I have hoped that I would be allowed to think for myself, which is the basic Liberty in one's life. But since a child is born, it is controlled by various elements, social, political, financial, family ties and others. Looking back over my life over the past 20 odd years, I have to ask- Is control an invisible force that surrounds us all and cannot be avoided, or is it possible to take the reins of one's existence? How much control does one have when one looks at one's life?

            Since I was a kid, i have been told what to do, who not to talk to, what to believe, what is right, what is wrong, so on and so forth. Some believe that this is the only method through which one can live n effective lifestyle, including philosophers I look up to, like my closet gay Plato, but I wonder what would happen if we were all made free of control. Would one see lovers kissing in public? And if they were would it be so bad? Would we see people coming out and voicing their opinion free of any thoughts of retribution? Wouldn't that be the establishment of a true democracy?

                I get the whole aid thing, the helping the poor, the need for the state, but what about those who are controlled, whose voices are strangled  by their loved ones? Who have to give up themselves, their thoughts, their beliefs just becoz they are a part of this system? and when one breaks free why is that it leaves one even more distraught? 

Denial: that bad or is it?

                        Watching the tv, as I flipped through channels, I saw this piece that echoed something that my mother has been going on for years. The power of thought process and the effect it has on environment. I am not exactly a big believer of all that I hear and see, but I do believe in the essence of Karma. Thus, it got me thinking, if all of us are a part of some giant design, where all is interconnected, why is it that one is able to feel so much, while there are others who do not feel at all? Being a optimistic skeptic is an interesting life to lead, it allows me to feel hopeful, while also helping me face the harsh short comings of the world around when they abruptly cross my path. Many of my friends believe that I live in denial, where I close my eyes, and pretend that no one can see me.

                       But what I like to wonder about is the fact that most of the people do live in some form of denial or the other. In fact it is my personal belief that it is imperative for one to survive. Living in the country as young as India, I believe that the presence of denial can be felt in each section of ones life; I see people deny that their relationships are job-like than connections, so that they don't have to be alone, I see people live in denial about their aspirations becoz someone else has already dreamt for them (be a parent, a partner, a mentor!), I see my friend (who is closer than anyone else) deny herself her natural sexual inclination for the happiness of others, and struggle to convince herself that it is just a phase. All of this and more makes me wonder, is denial a bad thing or is it a necessity to survive in society?

                     I like to believe that I know where I apply it, and am unconsciously ensuring that I am prepared. but in the light of the recent events of my life, I have to admit denial, is a shield that protects in the most comfortable manner. It helps one remain warm on a cold night, it helps one keep moving when something important is lost, it helps us cope when we cant face the truth. In my case, I was denial about the fact that I will not change, but it was with the coming of something beautiful, that I realized how much I wanted to, and how much of denial I was in. 

                  Today, I am past it (or at least I like to think that I am past it), and living without it, but it is my belief that denial is a source of strength or power for one who is lost. I know I know, a number of people will disagree, but this is me voicing my thoughts, one is welcome to clear thoughts, but for me Denial will always be a source of happiness, a place to just be me, far from all the hassle.
For me denial will always be a haven!!         

livin with masks

                 With time, I have started to change, to comprehend concepts that were once beyond my understanding. As a child, I was always of the belief that my parents know the best, all strangers are kind, and the only meaning behind a smile is that of care and happiness. Today, I look back at myself and wonder, how was I so naive? Yet at the same time I feel a sense of relief that I was able to hold on to my pink-tinted glasses for so long. Working with the children in the field today makes me realize, how lucky I was to hold on to that part of carefree existence for so long , only today am slowly facing the masks that the world wears.

                     I am no great messiah, I do my little share to keep my from turning cynical, an escape route one may call it. But I was under the impression (weird and delusional that I am) that I would be able to escape my disappointing discovery of the world, and retain some of my ideals if I work with the kids, who would lend me their strength to believe in the fairy and the nymph. The help was there, but their strength is what surprised me.

                 I walked into a clean room, with bright color, and it reminded me of my nursery days. But it only took me one breather and a detailed glance to realize the difference and the (although I suppose this would not be the appropriate word for the feeling that overtook me then, because the essence can't be captured in words) ironical hope of the space. In the small clean room, there were similar posters of animals, flowers, fruits, accompanied by the proud display of the skilful art of yellowish suns, crooked houses and smiling objects from flowers to faces. But what the glance revealed was the peeling paint that they valiantly covered. The smiles of the children were bright, making me smile, but the dust covered feet, the tattered ribbons in the hair reflected the strength that they own, one which only children can boast.

                 As I started talking, telling them stories, I heard their excitement, I saw their joy at little words. Sitting there, surrounded by simple innocence, I realized that is the mask that I want to wear, one which is not fake, not unreal, but reflects the inner strength, they wear their life on their face, mask it with the smile that reflects life, hope, care, a sense of belonging, a fight, an unbroken spirit....A mask that is real, the mask of life!