I am born. I pledge my life. Live it for me.

The young Indian is usually stuck in the hypocritically infused, community conscious, religious meltdown. To further explain, it only means the kid is unsure what to do when it comes to making a decision as they are bound by innumerable abstract blackmails – emotional, religious, threatening consequences, monetary, vocal, muted, and irrational.

Starting at not wanting to eat a meal – “if you don’t eat it, the old man will carry you off “. Now I wonder what it would have been if I had said ok let him. The parents have learned and mastered the art of blackmails. It comes to teacher who says “if you don’t submit your homework by tomorrow, I will make sure you stand the whole day”. Out the fear of pain, we give in. What if I had then told my teacher if you don’t make sure I understood what you taught, I will ensure you stand for two days. Then it’s the guard at the school gate who says “do not stand below the tree”, should I have told him - "ok then I will sit". Wonder if he was retesting gravity under that tree. Or was being a nicer human and warned against sanity – his place to answer nature’s call every cold night. :O . The bully friend who said, “If you don’t give me 2 chocolates for your b’day, I will beat you up”. If only I had hit him and run away. Considering the bully is usually fat and will not bother to run..but then there is another corner all the time.

To the grown up life or so we think. To make choices to start professional courses. How many kids have said this “OK, if you insist”. These will be the ones who just want the sound of music from the parents off their ears. Or the more naïve would have said “so I can score more and be like Sam uncle” (btw, Sam uncle is the uncle in the family who is supposedly doing very well in the Nigeria. Oh yes Nigeria…it does happen). Or many more who are just told they have two choices, Engineering or Medical, later do we realize the world of opportunities. Then it’s the induction at home for those going away to hostels (and sometimes even if they don’t) about being good and ensuring its only about name and fame of the family (that probably does not exist), about promising not to even go close to non-vegetarian food, about not talking to girls/boys (the girls/boys who will be friends, but girls/boys who one can call sisters/brothers are totally ok). Then comes the threat from the chairman, lecturer, the guard, the peon (the influential one who sits outside the Principal’s chamber), the lady teacher’s husband, the girl’s brother and what not. Even the eagle at times roaming the low skies during lunch with that menacing 'I’ll get you' look. Not to mention the cycle stand guy and the photocopy shopwala. It’s a tough life to graduate with all the clauses.

Then comes the wide world. All threats to make one an educated kid, now in the world of professionals – the sound of music of another induction starts. If its about going abroad for higher studies it’s the same what happened when I started college but this time around there is more about shunning the non-Indian single people, the ills of alcohol and smoking (little do they realize the body is addicted already – in many cases). With the promise of coming back and letting the parents select a better half and few tears later, the kid sets sail. This is a similar situation if the kid stays back, only though it might be more real time. Let’s say you come late – then it goes like, where did you go? did you drink? (if yes is the answer it could result in a cannon ball of tears of self pity, or a list of abuses and a strong promise to end it.). The cajoling to eat, the screams if you don’t, the annoyance if you come late, the spying, the comparisons, the list is long and known.

The colors of parenting take a turn at marriage. If you have been bold enough to think you let your mind make a choice and not your ‘mamma-papa’ then it’s about reliving all that was said above. Good bye peace of mind, happiness, and what every state of mind you are in. Then comes the question of giving back all the time, effort spent on care giving, love and food and what not. What do we say “how much?” If its only about paying back to get a better half whom you are happy with, its worth a try. Because most of the time it’s accepted after a matter of time. I guess it’s a test of perseverance of the kid or it’s a display of the real parent. The parent I never knew existed. The parent who gave in after all the sounds of music – for my new bike, my laptop, my mobile and my long trips. How I don’t understand the calculation of life. Is it about the time spent + money spent + good food = listen to me? This is mostly the case in family which are influenced heavily by communities and their position in them. Then comes the religion, the demand for their happiness (which is usually only got if the kid agrees to marry someone of their choice), the questions on ethics, the social status, the mental health of the kid (hehe). To end it, it’s a test of what one wants – do you want to be happy? Or do you want them to be happy?

The sad part is the lost state of the kid. There is no religious belief the kid goes by strongly, there is no reason to ignore the want of life. There is only a reason to give into the sound of music, the blackmail of the abstract. If it’s about living the experience of the experienced, then what is life? Repayment? Finding a means to be happy in a journey that starts to end is about annoying many.

The kid then grows to be another parent. No religion was every conceived to create chaos for the living. It was only a means to enlighten or follow a belief. Not an epitaph of life. Another kid is born. The cycle goes on.

And why does Uncle Sam have an issue to allow us Indians to work there?

In-depth analysis has unearthed the following 3 issues.

The g’s of dressing

The ghastly, gaudy, garish dressing of people from the sub-continent. This has created an eye-sore for the native Americans. They have increasingly tried to get themselves medicated and stop the eye-sore epidemic. This has taken a violent turn in the recent days. People have taken the law in their own hands to curb this epidemic. They have resulted in shooting the sore point. Law makers are unable to come to consensus in drafting a policy about gun licenses when users are trying to use this for their own security. This has a twin impact. Gun laws and medical treatment condition in the US is deteriorating.

The anglicized English speaking

It has been stated that it is not wrong in picking up an accent to fulfill a task. But picking up an accent to sound ‘cool’ without the need? In a bid to sound American, the accented folks have managed to confuse the already confused American so much that it has slowed down the economy. This has now become a national issue. The bulldog will be set loose to chase the accent out of every Indian who picked up the accent en route to the Amrica.

The education market

Indian seem to export the not so cream of the intelligent layer to the US; and this s in hordes. GRE and GMAT are no match for the street smart Indians. The Indians use their genetically gained intelligence to get into the US universities and get out too. Hook or crook is the mantra to finish the thesis and find a job. This has changed the American education. Now, this erodes the chance of another American to be college educated. The issue: the govt of America is investing heavily on education, but the rate of uneducated people in America is not decreasing. 

Mr. President, there is no reason to worry. All that has to be done is just let it be. As a complacent lot we generally don't do much. No conquering or hurting anyone. 

Long live the King. The King is dead.

I still remember my analyzing speeches session in a theory class. Everyone picked speeches to analyze the structure. Abe Lincoln, Washington, Luther King, Clinton, and host of personalities made their way. I was stuck for a lack of finding a speech from a long list of speeches from speakers hosted on a website. I wandered around only to think why a politician and why not a technology person, and then found ‘Stay hungry, Stay foolish’. The all time famous commencement speech. I realized how he followed no structure, no taught theory and thus I failed to impress my professor. But analyzing the speech made me a richer person.

THe sheer honesty of being and the simplicity of life amazed me. The honesty was evident, the passion to make it happen, make Jobs use the opportunity to encourage to live. THe need to remain foolish never seemed more respectful. The feeling of hunger was only a thought to succeed. Cheers. The glass is half full!

I might not own Apple products, but that does not keep me from being a fan of the man, who lived his passion, his life. From the finding a name Apple (the most important part of his diet those days), to finding dressing up for a occasion ridiculous, to working towards his dream and getting people to live his dream. I might not be brave, as brave as you are to live a dream but am delighted and honoured I have lived on with a legend. Same era as the Jobs. Long live the king. The king is dead.

My Chennai notes..

The inverted cone shaped dosa with lots of ghee never seemed to stop rolling. People ignored went about eating idli’s, dosas and pongal on one everyday morning. Then went on to the counter to get their morning dose of filter ‘kapi’. The coffee was dark brown, slightly bitter with just the right amount of sugar to not make it sweet. This was 7.30 am. To a regular job going Bangalorean like me, it was just past mid night.

Walking out of the small café, there are auto rickshaws, the drivers of which on noticing a person with a bag just go on ‘madam auto’, ‘sollungha madam’, ‘yenghe madam?’. It dosen’t matter to them if you know the local language or not, I’d rather want to say national language ;). They just make sure with their insistant noise for sometime would make you turn around and shoo them or ask them how much. I am quite amused, as to how a tamilian makes you understand their language rather than try to speak your language. Same scenario in Bangalore would sound like: ‘Madam auto?’, ‘English madam?’, ‘want madam? Auto madam?’, ‘yellighe madam?’, ‘cheppu madam’ and more blah blah blah. The same question of do you want to hire a rickshaw in many different language, assuming the possible native by gauging a person’s look.The heights of localization in terms of language is what surprises me. The look on a person’s face when one speaks Hindi, the boards on shops which are in pure chaste Tamil, the road names are in Tamil as well.

The temples are still cynosure for the people in the traditional Tamil land. The early birds catch a song and smell the fresh air and hear the sound of chants in the temple. The cows, priests and the flower vendors are a common sight. Priests are a clan that, as a Bangalorean, I get to see only when I visit a temple. But here you see them around temples, stores, airport, on bikes, in cars, shopping, walking and pretty much everywhere. The names of temples, the number of deities, the number of customized prayers, the type of offering for each deity, the permutation is unnerving.

The family is still the most visible group in Chennai. Appa, amma, and the kids are what you will see often on the visitor spots. Not to miss the paati and thatha. Another common sight, is the ratio of old people to young. The sight of the older people in Chennai is much higher. Either, the old people are very healthy and active or there are just too many of them.

The range of colours is predominantly bright. Rather, I’d say bright is a color used commonly in Chennai. You would not miss the bright yellow mangoes or the bright red flesh of a cut watermelon on a Bangalore road. But in Madras, it blends with the colors around. Either the vendor has a brighter color on or the customer, or the movie poster on the wall behind. It could be all at one go too. Now you know why our Quick Gun Murugan has shades on.

The traffic is smooth flowing, not many jammed spots. But the swaying turns on a road is amusing. You have to take a right turn after a nasty lane change and then quickly move to the left to make get to a signal to take a right turn. Note: All these are traffic rules. Nothing beats the maneuvering skill required at a T-nagar junction at the shopping place. People don’t care about vehicles, so do the vehicles – they don’t care about vehicles or people on the road. It’s a milieu of shopping stores, people, the humidity and heat, vehicles – include autos, rickshaws, autos, bikes, cars, autos, cycles, vans, cabs. Yes, autos is repeated, that is how they appear in that area. Simply multiplied.

Fried food is a surprise element in Chennai. People relish it at 11 am and 11pm, on a crowded Ranganathan Street and twilight filled Marina beach. Sweaty hot 11am? Beats me. We Bangaloreans crib to go out for a 36 C and drink plenty of TCs (Tender Coconuts) to keep cool. Chennai on a warm 40C has the tamizha walking around the crowded street and munching on a hot bajji.

The heat, the most obvious thing in Madras is something that is round the clock and year. All you do is sweat on a nice morning, sweat on the hot day, sweat at lunch, sweat during a bath, sweat at night, sweat, sweat, sweat. This is like the omnipresent thing for anything in Chennai. The beach, I must admit is the best of it all. Even with the crowd and the day’s heat, a night on the beach is a chill pill. But hey, here I am…the hot warm air that engulfs you as you move away from the shore. Phew.

Chennai, for all the glory of the beach and the wonderful everything. Vanakam.

Expression of an emotion

How could I be an emoticon? One, that could be used based on the required emotional criteria. It often beats me when it comes to sounding sad or sympathetic or even happy or angry. Or even looking sad or looking very happy. These degrees of change on the human face are something that I was not manufactured with.
So, how does one learn the act of sadness and happiness? Have I missed out on that universal language? No, I don’t get excited and exude happiness and joy during sad hour or am I remorse at the time of excitement. But then I don’t express it with all my might or rather don’t pretend to be something that everyone around is faking. I am me.

It’s all about the Genes..

he said. THis thought provoking statement by a friend made me think, not only twice but surely twice as much. Now, sometimes I wonder is it the genes that are dictating my life. Is it this inherited factor the cause of many a things I do? Or all the things I do?

Am I writing for the love of writing or my genes are making me do it? Am I or am I because of my genes? Do I have a wicked sense of humor? Or do you think am a spoil sport? Or I have fear for heights?Do I just blame it on my genes?

So, genes not only control the character but the human being as well. The selfish gene was the one behind all this – the this thing called life. This factor called gene is what is making me sleep so much? Making me the sloppy dancer that I am?

So, they say it’s the genology. Does it mean that the curly locks of my great grandfather, mixed with the luscious hair of my grandmother, together with the brown tan of my paternal grandfather with the straight hair of my maternal grandmother’s hair and the money and care from my parents .. I am bald. Oh genes.

Playboy

The essence of a word is in the way we use it. The said word or the pictorial representation of it greatly adds sheen and attaches importance to a word. India, and its hypocritical social environment is so openly secretive about the taboo topics of physical intimacy and its acts. The state’s dictatorial demeanor of entertainment viewship is in no way inversely proportional to the related crime. Forcing a social façade by heralding ethical morality is not creating any ancient generation. The façade only satiates a generation and the self proclaimed moral policing fanatics.

Getting back to the word….Am amused by the abuse of the word, image and use of ‘Playboy’ in India. Yes, in India. As I make my way through the traffic ridden Bangalore lanes, there goes no day without the playboy bunny image. Be it stickers on vehicles, clothes, jackets ..they are there everywhere. Call it ignorance or the intentional use in the land of kamasutra, Mr. Heffner your orgasmic entity has lost its flutter. No one would twitch or raise an eyebrow in India on seeing the bunny. We have moved on. We are more worried about Big Boss house and Rakhi Sawanth.