Desicritics Section: Culture

Judgement on IPC Section 377: Counterpoints

Chandra — Sat, 4 Jul 2009 00:25:37 EDT

Liberals and Gay activists are jumping with joy, both in these pages and across the media. To the point that it is getting tremendously irritating and hence this article.

Firstly, it appears that nobody has done any research on Section 377. Nowhere does it talk about Homosexual or lesbian contact. It only talks about unnatural offences. No cases have been brought about in the courts since the last 20 years on consensual gay sex (Please correct me). Even before this judgement it was impossible to win a conviction on consensual gay sex. Secondly, the section itself does not clarify what unnatural sex is. In other words, the law itself was extremely vague and the only place it was used was in cases of non consensual sex (Minors and Animals).

So what is the hullabaloo about? Well, apparently it is about police harassment. I am sorry but police harassment has nothing to do with their knowledge of Section 377. Our police find multiple sections to harass ordinary people and the interpretation of 377 will not end that. Typically cruisers get into trouble with the police while waiting in Parks and similar public areas. But this can happen to heterosexual couples or prostitutes as well. Therefore, the judgement of the court is unlikely to have any impact in terms of the practical implementation of the law. Homosexuals and Heterosexuals alike will get harassed by Police should they find themselves in difficult positions in Public locations.

The second problem is with organisations like NACO and other NGOs who claim that HIV detection and treatment is being impacted by this law. Unfortunately there is little in terms of data that can prove this one way or the other. For example, high risk groups have typically been lower socio-economic groups like truck drivers, migrant labour etc. It is difficult to imagine this group knowing any sections, let alone Section 377. The most interesting data will be to observe change in reported cases of HIV (due to homosexual contact) now that this section does not apply for gay sex. It is highly unlikely that there will be a significant change in numbers.

Therefore, the big question is why then have NGOs pushed for a correct interpretation of the law? This is because they wish to push change down everybody's throats. They want to force the rest of society to start 'accepting' them as normal and to start having debates in our living rooms. The reality is that change can only happen with better education and understanding and not through change in law. For that to happen, these groups should have spent greater time in engaging with society in general rather than ramming it in.

My view is that it is ridiculous to be treating homosexuals as criminals or weird people to laught at. I agree that our society in many ways is quite primitive and does not treat this group of people (and many others by the way)properly. I also agree that section 377 must not apply to this group of people. However, I do not agree that the repeal of this law should be the first step in engaging in a conversation. It took me 3-4 years to learn and empathise with this group and I am sure others would start accepting too with a little education.

Revisiting the Pakistani Grand Narrative

Zia Ahmad — Fri, 3 Jul 2009 08:30:28 EDT

“Simplifying to the extreme, I define postmodern as incredulity towards metanarratives.” (Jean-François Lyotard)

Most of the cultures around the world have an innate tendency to view themselves at the center of the universe. As with individuals this may be owing to the inability for some to live outside one’s head. The centrist view is enforced by following a given set of codes and traditions that reaffirms the uniqueness and superiority of the given clan, tribe, culture or civilization over others. This view is further informed by a given sense of history that adds significant gravity to the culture’s place in this world – and in some cases even in the one after. This sense of history is communicated, over generations, through an esoteric mix of myths, historical retellings, sacrosanct parchments and possibly just about all that goes into making stories and fables.

In the second half of the twentieth century, certain scholars who helped to flesh out the post modern perspective culturally, the communication of history was seen as a story told on a larger scale for the benefit of a crowd significantly larger than your average theatre going audience. This sort of storytelling was appropriately called Metanarrative or a Grand narrative.

Meta/Grand narratives are said to simplify and condense historical experiences and knowledge under one convenient umbrella which may be attached to a singular ideology. In constructing a grand narrative, a highly objective position is assumed through which a conversely subjective and biased overall knowledge is communicated to the respective followers of the ideology. A number of factors are discounted while designing a grand narrative. The inherent randomness found in the natural fabric of the universe, of existence is grossly overlooked.

Furthermore grand narratives are laid down and maintained by political structures that seek to sub-ordinate physical and natural laws to any given ideology. The history of things is chiseled accordingly. Concepts and opinions are presented as facts. The sheer diversity of the human experience is discarded in favor of one monolithic ideology.

A more obvious criticism of grand narratives can be leveled on the account of the impossibility of one singular doctrine to be embraced by a multitude of people (ideally the entire species) coming from radically divergent and varied backgrounds.

This “incredulity” or disbelief towards grand narrative was articulated by Jean-François Lyotard in his seminal document The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge (1979). He viewed the construction, existence and influence of grand narratives as limiting and reductive, the critique of which is definitive of the post modern discourse.

One of the chief tasks any grand narrative seeks to undertake is the defining and laying out “the truth.”

In a post modern discourse the validity of a singular generalizing truth is often contested. The idea of one ideology or theory to hold the ground for the entire species can be seen as both a naïve and simplified account of history or a manipulative attempt to keep the political structures empowered. Organized religion, established folklore, national histories, social experiments and myth of progress via science all fall under the auspices of grand narratives.

As in any other story, popular grand narratives have their share of heroes and villains engaged in a series of dramatic conflicts. The snake introduces temptation to Adam in the Garden of Eden, Moosa contends with the Pharaoh and parts a sea, Darwin battles religious dogma and the proletariats take it out on the street against the big, fat bourgeois. Indeed ideological themed histories are structured with mass appeal marketability in mind.

The Pakistani grand narrative, coupled with the grand Sunni narrative, is studiously inculcated into our collective psyche and stipulates Pakistan firmly placed at the center of the world serving as the fortress of Islam. It is further invoked that Pakistan translates into the first pillar of Islam – “Pakistan ka mutlab kya? lā ‘ilāha ‘illallāh”. The government sanctioned narrative of our country lavishes extravagant amount of importance on national unity, discipline and faith that are inscribed in paper but not in practice. The same narrative makes broad rudimentary lingual and ethnic divisions scattered over four provinces that have been supremely ineffectual. “Char suboon ki Pehchaan - Pakistan Pakistan” has served as a jingoistic call for some time now that criminally sidelines other prominent ethnicities and conveniently forgets the pre 1971 categorization of administrative units.

The national narrative is fused with a prescribed religious bent that, just like any other major grand ideology, insists on its own universality and absoluteness. To question the ideology amounts to heresy and is discouraged from an early stage. Brandishing dissenters in the Christian tradition has long been abandoned and to this day we are only too eager to label the fellow Muslim as kafir on the slightest pretext. In addition, echoing the propagation of the four province projection, other variants of Islam are marginalized and even ignored, as are the non-Muslim religious ilk, in building a monolithic religious identity of Pakistan that empowers a crude majority and alienate others.

The reductive critique leveled against grand narratives manifests itself in Islamic quiz shows so often played in Ramazan where the history of the world is marked as 8000 years old! A romantic history is weaved under the narrative that turns the existence of Pakistan complacent. Since the country was liberated on the 27th night of Ramazan it has Allah Almighty’s special eye on it and, rest assured, no harm shall come to our Pakistan. So we have been told over and over again for every calamity that is blamed on “foreign hands”. Our abidance to the Pakistani grand narrative absolves us of any wrongdoing and actively discourages self-evaluation.

In this light. our imposing and limiting national narrative has been less than successful in representing Pakistan in its entire complex, layered and multifaceted splendor. It has done no service to the country or its people. Having clearly outstayed its welcome time is high to argue for the existence of a, as Lyotard called it, “multiplicity of theoretical standpoints” that are divergent localized narratives that are contingent to the relevant culture’s history and environment.

Whatever way, the postmodern critique of grand, all-encompassing narratives, deserves to be applied to the Pakistani model. The need for a pluralistic Pakistan is paramount more than ever, before and whatever mix of myth and wish-fulfillment that worked in previous times has to be debunked. It has to be understood by Pakistanis that the beliefs held true and pure by us don’t hold the same for the rest of the world. To conduct a field test, next time you come across a non-Pakistani Muslim ask him if he agrees Pakistan is the fortress of Islam. Even better try asking him Pakistan ka mutlab kya?

Book Review: The Wish Maker by Ali Sethi

Vinod Joseph — Fri, 3 Jul 2009 07:34:40 EDT

I have just finished reading The Wish Maker and the sights, sounds and smells of upper-middle class Pakistan are still with me. Though I am nowhere near Pakistan, I can still see around me the crowded thoroughfares of Lahore. If twenty-four year old Ali Sethi’s main objective was to convey to his readers an idea of what life is like for Pakistanis of his class and ilk, he has succeeded admirably.

Having spent all his life in Pakistan, except for a brief holiday to Spain, Sethi’s protagonist Zaki Shirazi goes to the US for his higher studies. The novel starts with Zaki’s return to Lahore from the US for his cousin Samar Api’s wedding. Actually Samar Api is not his cousin, she’s his father’s first cousin and consequently his aunt. However, Samar is generous enough to treat him as a cousin most of the time, though occasionally she reminds him otherwise.

Zaki’s father was an airforce pilot who died in an accident when Samar was ‘minus two months old’. Zaki is brought up by his mother Zakia who is a journalist and a political activist. Surrounded by women, his mother, his paternal grandmother – Daadi, the domestic help Naseem and Samar Api, Zaki has an unusual childhood. For example, he gets to accompany his mother to a political protest and they end up spending the night in police custody. Zaki is sent to a posh school where he makes some friends and even tries to get picked (by his teachers) as a class monitor. There is a surprising amount of politicking, buttering up and back stabbing involved in getting picked as the class monitor. School politics almost mirrors the politics played by adults in the big, bad world outside. Zaki gets into trouble once in a while. What child doesn’t? Sethi does a very good job describing Zaki’s school life. I’ll leave it to you to read the book and find out more for yourself.

Zaki’s cousin Samar Api is an Amitabh Bachchan fan and when she has an affair, she is looking for her Amitabh. When Zaki returns to Pakistan for Samar’s wedding, he knows that the London educated lawyer she’s marrying is her Amitabh.

By way of flashbacks and otherwise, Sethi tells us the story of three generations of Pakistanis. We are shown Papu and Mabi, his maternal grandparents. Papu migrated to Pakistan from his ancestral home in India and he ends up as the General Manager of a posh hotel. Mabi is the hostess of a Chinese restaurant inside the hotel. We get to know how Zaki’s parents met. We are shown the (decadent?) lifestyles of some of Zaki’s cousins. As I have mentioned earlier, one gets to smell the real Pakistan, albeit from an upper class balcony.

Political events in Pakistan form the backdrop to this story. One gets bits of commentary on everything from the Partition, the various coups that took place in Pakistan, Zulfikar Bhutto’s execution, Benazir Bhutto’s election etc.

Sethi’s language is pretty straight forward and matter of fact, except when he makes a conscious effort to use poetic language. This happens only in a few paragraphs and they stand out. No, I’m not saying they don’t gel with the rest of the book, but they do stand out.

All in all, I would definitely recommend this book, though I am sure that Sethi’s best is yet to come.

SPOILERS AHEAD – DON’T READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU ARE PLANNING TO BUY THE BOOK BASED ON WHAT YOU HAVE READ SO FAR

I have a few grumbles about the book. My main crib is that Zaki’s relationship with Samar Api is not covered as well as it ought to be. After Zaki lands in Lahore for Samar Api’s wedding, he doesn’t go and meet her and the reader doesn’t meet her either, except when the wedding actually takes place. You are told that Zaki and Samar are very close, but you see Zaki going around town with his other cousins, and Samar doesn’t make an appearance for a while. In fact, the only time Zaki and Samar are shown to be close and talking and exchanging secrets is when they are both very young and they have a few mutual friends. After Zaki is moved to a posh school, Samar Api sort of disappears. Samar Api doesn’t have a presence in a large swathe of the book.

My only other point of dispute with Sethi, and I am nitpicking here, is the scene which takes place in the days just after the US started to help the Mujahhidin fight the Soviets in Afghanistan. Zaki’s mother, the political activist, is shown telling a retired Brigadier that the US and Pakistan were making a mistake by helping the Afghan fighters. Just before she does that, a visiting American intellectual and a friend of Zakia, declares that the blowback (from helping the Mujahhidin) would be costly. If Sethi didn’t have the benefit of hindsight, I doubt if he could have written anything of this sort. Just after the Soviet invasion, I don’t think there were any Americans or Pakistanis worrying about the “blowback” from helping the Mujahhidin. In those days, the only serious dangers the world faced came with a capital C – Capitalism and Communism, depending on whose side you were on. Religious fundamentalism was not a major problem. Many Arab nations such as Egypt were going through a phase of Arab nationalism and socialism. I’m sure we’ll get to read a lot more of Sethi in the days to come.

Nawab and I: Intercourse, Pa.

temporal — Thu, 2 Jul 2009 19:59:24 EDT

With towns named Bird in Hand, Paradise, and Intercourse, Lancaster County in Pennsylvania has acquired added attraction for tourism. What attracts people is not the name but the Pennsylvania Dutch. They are descendants of German Amish and Mennonite immigrants here. If you have seen Harrison Ford's Witness (1985) you would have a pretty good idea of how the Amish live.

It is off Route 30 [map link] and just celebrated its 255th Anniversary.

t: We don't have to be in DC till dinner time.
N: Why, you don't want to drop in on Potus?
t: He won't have the time of day for us.
N: You have become critical of him lately.
t: I tell like it is. It is his actions not mine.
N: CJ thinks you never really liked him.
t: I would have preferred a dog over W.
N: Don't insult dogs. Woof woof.
t: Sorry, I meant no insult to dogs. (Damn, should be careful with N too when choosing words.)
N: Fragile egos.
t: We used to call Ulloo stupid, but Owl is wise here.
N: You could continue on 30 then take 15 to 270 later.
t: You don't like Ms. Garmin do you?
N: I know more.
t: Modesty is a human trait, think we agreed on that.
N: So what will you do at Intercourse?
t: Don't know, never been at Intercourse, only....
N: Don't go there, minors may be reading this.

t: Name the three things famous around here.
N: Beer, pretzels and chocolate. Two are out for you.
t: Yes am driving. But why do dogs don't drink?
N: And what about your mullahs?
t: That is a personal choice. But have heard some do.
N: Amish, Mennonite, Hasidim, Mullahs...different feathers.
t: You are so intolerant for a wise one.
N: Stating the obvious is not being intolerant.
t: They pursue their beliefs peacefully.
N: hmmmmmm
t: [Each time Nawab is made to think is a small victory for me.)
N: Condoms!
t: HaiN, yeh condoms kahaaN se tapak paRa?
N: None of the four have use for condoms.
t: hmmmmmm... well it is their belief. Non interference in nature.
N: You do know they are not Dutch?
t: No?
N: Germans, originally.
t: There I learned another thing from you Nawab.
N: You are a miserable liar.
t: Tell me something new. Is Barak in town? Can I bump into him ordering a burger?
N: CJ and AJ have plans for barbecue dinner.
t: They do? Guess can plan bumping into Barak another time.

Delhi - Love Under The Rainbow

Deepti Lamba — Thu, 2 Jul 2009 11:19:05 EDT

Behind the happy homosexual smiles there generally are lost humans who have risen like a phoenix in the midst of pain and wretched soul searching. The gays who stepped out of the closet and took on great risks like rejection from their own blood and death at the hands of a brutal world.

In urban India where we are always looking over our shoulder, society self destructs. Whether it be protest against caste, religious restrictions, education, or choice of sexuality, these are the boundaries that if broken incur socio-familial wrath. Yet people rebel against the supposed morals, traditions and values that have led to discord, disharmony and many a times suicide by those unable to grapple the trauma caused by outdated conservatism.

Those who stick on to archaic patriarchal practices are also inevitably homophobic in their outlook. The fact is now our fundamentalists have finally found a common cause to be united against - to beat up the faggot and the butch!! And as usual they make homosexuals the bogeymen out to prey on the children. Yes, it's always about the children. The last desperate straw when invoking the message of a homophobic god fails- think about the children!

In this brutal environment there are few straight people who stand by gay friends and wonder how they survived the brutal Indian environment where disdain and most of the times violence was committed against them. There are very few of us who in social occasions and even in the midst of family with sure voices say that we have no problems if our children are gay.

When homosexuals rise from the ashes and reach for the rainbows, how can heterosexuals sit back and not be part of the extraordinary unfolding? The triumph of the human spirit cannot be denied.

Only when the heterosexuals stand by them shoulder to shoulder and give them the courage to come out of the closet will they breathe easier in a country which they call their own and yet live in fear or suffer loneliness. When we are willing to take a brick meant for them will the country change.

This isn't a fight against the morals or values of the country. Gays love and live like us. They dream of happily ever afters; they dream of acceptance from family, sincere friendships, of having their own families, or simply the desire to be treated as human without being judged.

Today, I am proud of being from Delhi - the capital of India where to love under the rainbow is perfectly legal.

The Bandra-Worli Sealink Opening

IdeaSmith — Thu, 2 Jul 2009 03:38:08 EDT

The much awaited Bandra-Worli sealink opened yesterday. In the unlikely case that you don’t know what I’m talking about (in which case, what are you doing reading this post?), this is a bridge built across one of the bays between the islands that comprise Mumbai. It connects Bandra reclamation to Worli seaface and has been predicted as the solution to easing up the daily traffic snarls from the western suburbs to town.

The sealink has been a long time in the making, having faced some setbacks and delays as well. It has been a part of the grand plan for Mumbai for so long that it has almost made a mark in local lingo by now (Yeah, I’ll get a promotion by the time that damn sealink gets made, maybe then I’ll be able to afford a car too!).

Most Mumbaikers have seen its grow, inch by agonizing inch on the horizon, from each direction. Just last year, I looked out at the impressive seaview from the window of a friend whose Mahim flat faces the then under-construction sealink and said,

Whatever is taking them that long??!! There’s just another inch to go!

After much fanfare, the sealink was inaugurated by Sonia Gandhi last morning and thrown open to the general public at 7 a.m. There will be a Rs.50 toll to traverse the sealink but that becomes functional only as of next Monday. So for the next few days, you can expect most Mumbaikers to derive full paisa vasool rides, riding Mumbai’s first ever sealink.

Quite fortunately (for me) I had an appointment in town that same morning. Fortunate I say because I (like many suburbanites) detest the painful commute into town, even less by road. What a stroke of luck to have a reason to go into town on the very day the sealink was inaugurated!

So I nagged dad into turning off into Bandra reclamation, shushing his incessant doomsday prophesies that the sealink would only add to commute time and what was so great about that damn bridge anyway, it’s taken long enough to come up and blocked Mumbai’s strained resources as it is.

In a few minutes, I was ready to jump out of the car and dive for cover as we ran smack-dab into the middle of the kind of traffic that makes road-rage seem like a pardonable offense, not punishable by law. I think every Western suburbanite must have been on that road to Worli today, whether or not they wanted to go to town!!!

I actually saw a few cars take U-turns and head back out, presumably to get to their destinations, the old-fashioned Mumbai way.

But as we inched forward and the high beams of the sealink came into view, my spirits surged and even my father ceased his complaining and grudgingly took out his own phone to take a picture.

We passed an impressive-looking toll-naka. Oh okay, I know there’s nothing impressive about a toll-naka, I’ve seen the one at Mankhurd and what about that huge one leading out to Mumbai-Pune expressway that I passed, not three days ago?

It still was a momentous occasion, for we were on the brink of breaking new ground. As we passed, I’m rather afraid to say that the insofar well-laned traffic just sort of melded into itself and became one sea of cars going helter-skelter. The road curves a bit before it touches the sealink and the lanes just sort of get lost in each other. The authorities are just going to have to do something about that if they don’t want to face choke-ups every morning just before the Bandra end of the sealink.

Very near the sea, I saw a flock of crows flying around frantically and wondered aloud,

Why are there so many birds around? What are they so agitated about?

Dad said that perhaps there was an colony of nests in that place which had so far been pretty secluded and undisturbed. Displacement was a sobering thought to start the trip on, but well needs must.

Once we actually got closer and closer to the sealink, I could feel the anticipation electric in the air. Cars slowing down, audible gasps, people zooming their camera lenses and phones, excitement was rife.

I can’t even begin to describe what the journey was like. I am sure, in a short few days I’ll become as accustomed to it as the regular train and road commute. But today, this first trip was special. It was the realization of the great Mumbai dream. We were riding over water. All my hitherto unvoiced fears that the bridge would give way were blown away in the cool breeze. The bridge is rock-solid (not at all like Lakshman Jhula, ma, you can stop worrying, it won’t sway in the wind) and it would otherwise feel just like riding on a concrete road, except there’s the sea on both sides.

What an odd feeling to turn to one’s left and see Mumbai, the city, the familiar buildings and roads on the horizon but on the wrong side and from so far away!

I saw a media van pass in the opposite direction on the clear Worli-to-Bandra lane, with a journalist standing out of one of the windows holding a mike, and a cameraman standing out of the opposite side shooting her. It was a funny sight and I'm only sorry I didn't have a chance to shoot it.

The image below shows the proud and cheering workers who were lined up to watch the first few travellers on the sealink. What a moment of glory it would have been for them!

The couple in the Qualis next to mine were carrying balloons and traversed the entire length of the sealink with their balloons held aloft and flying out of the windows. Viva, the spirit of Mumbai!

We touched terra firma again at the Worli seaface end. I’m rather afraid this means the end of those long, wonderful soujourns ending in masala milk and sandwich. With the incoming and outbound traffic to the sealink, the seaface is bound to become thoroughfare and lose the charm it has.

We’re losing a few lovely spots and the traffic problem may not really be solved. But the experience of riding over the sea is something every Mumbaiker should have. This link has been far too long in coming. In the larger picture, perhaps easier access will level out some of the differences of Mumbai’s very own caste system?

I can’t tell just yet. My head is still spinning with the adrenalin rush of yesterday morning. I really feel like I’ve been part of a grand day in Mumbai’s history, almost like the fall of the Berlin wall. It is a big thing for this city and as a Mumbaiker, I feel really proud.

Delhi High Court Legalizes Homosexuality In India

Sanjukta Basu — Thu, 2 Jul 2009 01:50:03 EDT

History has been created today in India, this morning Delhi High Court gave its judgment on the petition filed by Naz Foundation challenging the constitutionality of Section 377 of IPC which criminalizes all acts of oral and anal sex between individuals irrespective of age and consent.

High Court ruled in favour of the petition and said,

We declare that Section 377 IPC, insofar it criminalises consensual sexual acts of adults in private, is violative of Articles 21, 14 and 15 of the Constitution. The provisions of Section 377 IPC will continue to govern non-consensual penile non-vaginal sex and penile non-vaginal sex involving minors. By 'adult' we mean everyone who is 18 years of age and above. A person below 18 would be presumed not to be able to consent to a sexual act.

Read the full judgment here.

The religious groups have already started reacting negatively. They say this is a sad day for civilised people. May their God help them.

The politicians are quiet and the Law minister said he would react after reading the judgment.

The road ahead is still long, the next struggles would be about homosexuals couple's property rights, adoption rights, marriage rights, domestic violence in intimate relations etc.

I have written more about this case earlier here.

A more detailed report in the making.

Happy Canada Day

temporal — Wed, 1 Jul 2009 14:08:03 EDT

photo credit Toronto star

Canada day means late mornings for a change.

Unlike yesterday the sun is out. There are lots of barbecues and parties celebrating Canada Day.

In the evening the sky would be lit with fireworks display. The biggest and the best would be at the Ashbridges Bay.

In Ottawa, the traditional march past was held today with the GG's Guards in attendance and thousands in attendance.

The first Canada Day party was in Bakersville, BC in 1868.

The citizens of the newly formed Dominion of Canada heard that the Americans plan to celebrate July 4 in a big way. So they got together to steal the show. Read it here about it.

Here are two quizzes from the Star today:

19. In 2007, the nation sending Canada the highest percentage of our 236,760 immigrants that year was:
a. Jamaica
b. Great Britain
c. People's Republic of China
d. India

21. Toronto and Vancouver, tied at 37 per cent of total population that is foreign-born, leave only seven Canadian cities in double-digits of foreign-born residents. The three highest of these are
a. Calgary
b. Winnipeg
c. Edmonton
d. Ottawa
e. Montreal

Answers? Follow the link.

Other than barbecues and fireworks, it has become traditional for new Canadians to take oath of citizenship this day.

This country is where I have my roots. I have lived here for more than half my life. Our children are born here. With its multi-culturism policy and respect for law and equality I feel this is my home.

Like any big country Canada also has its share of problems and issues - the economic downturn, treatment of its Indian aboriginals, minority rights, its pathological following of the US foreign policy, its unpopular incursion into Afghanistan. This is something that would never have happened under the philosopher-king Pierre Elliott Trudeau.

But all that is overshadowed by its people and their sense of decency, its institutions, its democratic governance, and its yearning for world peace.

In the words of Lester b Pearson, the winner of 1957 Nobel for Peace:

Of all our dreams today there is none more important - or so hard to realise - than that of peace in the world. May we never lose our faith in it or our resolve to do everything that can be done to convert it one day into reality.

Happy 142nd Canada Day to you.

[ED: It's also Pamela Anderson's 42nd birthday]

Poessay: Rosary 29 - uncalm times: sukoon say shikayat

temporal — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:48:32 EDT

credit cuttlefish

nightfall blackness
blankets evenly
but why do desert days
spread white lava
over every one?

the existential strive
yearning, foreboding

misgiving, unrelated
stabbing heartaches
all are covered
under squinting whiteness
invisible,
bereft of motion
and emotion

mind's intense rays
love's dyspnea
poverty's glare
injustice's dissonance
will eradicate
this petrifying mirage
(hopefully)

my sometimes wrenching
oft times perturbing
oddly comforting and
mostly wonderful
world

would then return
one hopes

sukoon say shikayat

kyuN aaj meri dunya
din ki tareeeki maiN
sufaidi dhuli hay

gham e gardish hO
gham e janaaN hO
koi khalish koi kar'b hO
sub per aaj ik chader
sufaid chaa gaee hay

suraj ki tamazat
ish'q ki garmi say
chadar ghayab ho gi
aur
m'ri yeh paraishaan kun
hangama khez, pur lutf
dunya phir lOt aa'aye gi

Earlier:
Poessay: Rosary 1 - Pink Sand Beach
Poessay: Rosary 2 - Fishing
Poessay: Rosary 3 - Adam and Eve Limited - I
Poessay: Rosary 4 - Adam and Eve Limited - II
Poessay: Rosary 5 - Descending
Poessay: Rosary 6 - Dinner In The Park
Poessay: Rosary 7 - Under the Jamun Tree
Poessay: Rosary 8 - Voices In The Air
Poessay: Rosary 9 - Life Rosary I
Poessay: Rosary 10 - Life Rosary II
Poessay: Rosary 11 - Creating In Isolation
Poessay: Rosary 12 - Kohled Eyes
Poessay: Rosary 13 - By the Lake
Poessay: Rosary 14 - Snow Flakes
Poessay: Rosary 15 - The Drop
Poessay: Rosary 16 - Ageless Quest - tishnagi
Poessay: Rosary 17 - Hemashree
Poessay: Rosary 18 - burning blazing fire rages
Poessay: Rosary 19 - Word Whirlpool - BhaNwur LafzouN Ka
Poessay: Rosary 20 - Thanksgiving I
Poessay: Rosary 21 - KhamOshi - Wordless
Poessay: Rosary 22 - A Simple Poem
Poessay: Rosary 23 - Musings
Poessay: Rosary 24 - Monologue
Poessay: Rosary 25 - pink flamingos, yellow roses, dark clouds
Poessay: Rosary 26 - Trancing Segues
Poessay: Rosary 27 - Perceptions
Poessay: Rosary 28 - Waves-Upon-Waves - mauj der mauj

A Postmodern Wedding

Zia Ahmad — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 10:35:12 EDT

"Hope is a dangerous word" - just like any other pearls of wisdom that I am only too eager to pass on to the next available ear, this too has been derived from the ever-wise and reflective dream factory that is Hollywood. Do we ever pause to consider how drastically films have affected our humdrum lives, and how in moments of joy and sorrow some of us look up to movies as templates that our real-life actions and words should subscribe by? No other art form in human history has provided us with as many pertinent points of comparison in our lives as films (or for that matter TV shows) have.

How many people would you expect to quote a line from Shakespeare (with the exception of to be or not to be...)? If you're a testosterone-pumped dude with delusions of machismo, The Godfather and Scarface lend an almost scripture like importance to govern your make-believe life by. You even pick up the mannerisms and gestures of movie people (Robert De Niro and Al Pacino being the oft-employed culprits to any number of Bollywood actors). You name your children after your favorite movie/TV characters (ever wondered why so many Sanas that you know were incidentally born in the early 80s in the wake of Ankahi?). You revere your favorite movie and TV heroes more than real life heroes. No matter how joyous and ecstatic your happiest moment is or how harrowingly gloom-ridden your saddest, it always pales in comparison to the highs and lows of the lives that you see on screen. There is no appropriate music to play in the background when she breaks your heart; the mise'en'scene isn't quite appropriate for the struggle within you which demands more drama.

Therefore, our passions are not strong enough; our anger lacks the correct amount of resentment; our grief is not heartbreaking enough; all our emotional outbursts come out too strong or too weak - never quite spectacular enough to fit the definition of a cinematic emotional outburst. We are not filmy enough. We will never win any Oscars.

When we want to drive a point across, our diction and body fails us. Either the body language is not right, or we're forced to think up the right word in an increasingly claustrophobic moment of heated, unabated passion, or worse - we get stuck on a word and have to put considerable amount of effort to get past that debilitating fix. Unlike, actors on screen who do it flawlessly and with conviction, our faces and bodies are not trained and we are never given a strong script. It is upon us, and only us, to get by through this life that we desperately want to measure up to the films that we feed on.

However, occasionally our cultural climate doles out opportunities to compensate for the cinematic inadequacy of our lives. This prospect is delivered in the form of the greatest festival in one's life - his or her wedding. This is the one day you get to be the star of your film. During the circus show that is our desi wedding, you as the hero/heroine get center stage (literally) and the culmination of your love story (even if the wedding is arranged) is captured on video. Professional cameramen are sought to shoot these "films", and get professional editing and mixing jobs done on them. However, the finished product is by no means a proper three-hour film. Replete with a title sequence where the cast of the wedding is introduced. The bride, the groom, the parents, the in-laws, the siblings, the cute wretched Babbloos, Tinkus, Munnis... the lot.

The plot of the film may be predictable: the ultimate genre film, and most likely will have no dialogue, the ultimate genre film being the ultimate musical, and lacks seriously in the character development department, no mention of the wooden acting all around, but the film according to its budget may boast of decent production value: make up, costumes, sets and etc. It even has fancy dissolves to make it look slick. Elaborate song and dance sequences are choreographed for weeks and executed on the confetti laden pre-show that is mehndi. The emotional culmination comes at rukhsati which marks the teary eyed conclusion of the festive proceedings. And after two, three weeks of nauseating reruns of the film, real world awaits the stars of the film to go on with their tick tock lives.