Desicritics Category: Culture: The Writing Life

Poessay: Honesty and Trust

temporal — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 22:01:07 EDT

San's favourite phrase once used to be 'to be honest...' I would wince and say under the breadth "wohi tau" in the acerbic tone of the actor in the sit-com 'office office'.

Why must honesty precede with vocal reaffirmations? Are we less honest without such declarations?

Or are such 'warnings' part of some nefarious truth in advertising or packaging guideline revelations?

Truth has a way of penetrating armour. It does not need a preamble nor a warning. We can feel its piercing pain if it is unpleasant (which it mostly is).

Have you noticed when things do not affect us directly we can afford to be brutally truthful? I call it the BSS - Bitch-Slut Syndrome. (according to the narrator one who sleeps around is a bitch, but if she does not sleep with the narrator then she turns into a slut.)

And when there is a remote chance of it affecting us or a person dear to us than we embellish it with sugar coats. Like David Frum in that essay in the Newsweek where he wanted to bash Rush Limbaugh and blast him into space: but being Barbara's son he stepped around that ardent wish. Oh, he may be a drug addict, philanderer, has several failed marriages, jets in a private plane, is obnoxious, irrational, overweight, but he has a voice and we must respect it as one of the several voices in the republican fold.

We mention rationality, justification, weather, conditions, considerations doing the amazing tap dance on needle head to reveal the truth while trying not to upset ourselves or another person.

***

janay kaun dekhay ga
muskurati aankhion
kay chalakhtay aansoo

(who'd witness
the downpour
of smiling eyes)

Drop by drop, they fall, and morph into layers of disregard...mingling, partying, disappearing, re appearing, fading in euphemisms of memories labeled as past...distant or near...

I wrote reappearing...as in mujh se pehli si mohabbat m'ray mehboob na maang

Is the lover demanding it? Or is it the flutter of heartbeats ignited at a chance encounter with the past lover? A flicker of flame that was once a fire?

But as Faiz continues:

aur bhee dukh haiN zamaanay meiN muhabbat ke sivaa
raahateN aur bhi vas'l ki raahat ke sivaa
mujh se pehli si mohabbat meray mehbub na maaNg

There are heartaches aplenty (in the world) other than those of love
There is peace and joy aplenty other than the ecstacy of love
Don't ask me to rekindle that love, O Love

To be honest, agar maaNg bhee lay tou bura kiya hay. Dil ko achcha lagay ga. [tr: to be honest, even if the lover is reminiscing about lost love it has a nice feel about it.]

Trust me!

poetry: Coward, Coward, Burning Bright

temporal — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 10:17:17 EST

sorry dee, (and sorry W B)

Coward, coward, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame taliban symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of your idiocies?
On what wings dare you aspire?
What delusions dare seize the fire?

And what twisted and crazy thought
Could screw the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy loins began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the sickle? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the saints make thee?

Chuddi, chuddi, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame taliban symmetry?

BBB Inc. - With Bare Hands If Necessary

temporal — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 07:33:38 EST

Rehan Ansari's lament is passionately articulated. It exposes the growing sub-continental fault line. He writes about the subversive elements, the interest groups, the politicians, leaders and government honchos who may not be in collusion but who certainly appear to favour lack of detente:

Partition has resulted in nationalism, borders, and visa regimes that make sure that people know even less about each other. As a result, they are more likely to be taken for a ride by the agendas of lashkars , fascists, and the realpolitik of Islamabad and New Delhi. A United India – or even an India and Pakistan that were friendly states, much like contemporary France and Germany – would never have been vulnerable to an American agenda of jihad in Afghanistan and Pakistan against the Soviets. Better relations would also have negated this ‘problem’ of Kashmir.

On those (now increasingly rare) occasions, when individuals and groups from one country visit the other, they invariably follow up with glowing praises. They discover the commonness ignored by the government and media in their respective countries. They instinctively discover the common ground and find the warmth and friendliness in the other not revealed and expressed openly in their home country.

And this causes dismay and consternation in the groups and lobbies in both India and Pakistan who want the enmity, suspicion and hostility maintained. That such efforts are nudged and aided from other powers in the region and the world can be argued another time.

While the extremist fringes in India and Pakistan can be identified, there are many others that are harder to identify. But their maneuverings are easily discernible. It is good for business - their business. Hatred, intolerance and suspicion must be kept brewing. Peace and amity must be kept at bay.

BBB

These three have a common interest to ferment and instigate the chasm between India and Pakistan:

Big Business: They see profit big ticket defense expenditure. Peace is bad business. If only they realise that peace has its own dividends, and can add more to their bottom line than selling instruments of death and destruction.

Big Beards: The religious fringe do not want amity and friendship between people. Bad for their business - these Babas in green and saffron revel in hatred and enmity.

Bureaucratic Babus: The bureaucrats have lost their sheen and magic and are now in cahoots with big business and MNCs.

The irony is each one of these three think of the other two as their puppets.

Each time the two countries try to come close by, a force generated by the BBB Inc. pulls them away. The past sixty years are rife with such examples. Three generations have grown apart. The unstated goal of nourishing and maintaining a wall of suspicion, enmity and intolerance towards each other is growing taller, wider and deeper.

In India, amidst a plethora of cable TV channels available, there is no Pakistani channel available for subscribers. Likewise, in Pakistan there is a ban on Indian channels, naach-gaana channels are surreptitiously allowed though.

What is good for BBB Inc. is bad business for the majority of middle classes on both sides of the divide. And it is not only middle class that suffers as Rehan argues, but the common person is victimised too.

Barring past six decades, for centuries they drank the water from the same well, participated in each others religious and cultural celebrations, fought against the colonizers and invaders.

This wall is an artificial construct that needs to be brought down - with bare hands if necessary - one brick at a time.

Celebrating Love - The Desicritics Valentine's Day Contest Winners

Temple Stark — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 11:41:51 EST

Twenty-one entries discussing, attacking, welcoming love and Valentine's Day. The Desicritics Valentine's Day Contest was also a celebration of diverse writing.

What I found most surprising was this strong animosity toward Valentine's Day written about or felt by the authors.

My focus is quality writing and a good story told; whether that's fiction, opinion or news (AJ's Free Hugs: The Triumph of Love and Peace. As one of the judges, tasked with reading them all - most of them to read again - there were a few who stood out immediately.

Top 5

5. Happy Valentine's Day by Hardik Ruparel --- For deft use of sarcasm in asking, WTF to making people marry to protest India's "adoption" of Valentine's Day.

4. Valentine's Day 2006 --- Deep tension, slightly broken by those who knew she was married but still, a behind-the-curtain peek into what happened to cross the cultural divide - through her fiancé's parents.

3. Poornamadah Poornamidam - You Can't Give Love Away by Meenaksh / Blokesablogin --- Putting the St. Back into St. Valentine's. Ok, not quite, more the author puts a heavy dose of tradition about love and those infamous and famous as a result of how they handled and discussed love themselves. Extremely well written!

2. Valentine, Schmalentine by Deepa Krishnan --- This piece laid out in a very gentle way the discussion surrounding Valentine's Day and its role in India and Desi culture. We fall in the middle of a family conversation and the picture at the end, clearly shows, if we needed any evidence, that love exists without Valentine's Day.

1. My Funny Valentine - Sweet Comic Valentine by Aditi Nadkarni --- A pondering rumination through the river of great stories from her life, everything from a farting dad to, well a farting Valentine's Day card and friends staying up late unknowingly mourning fictional characters. Ms. Nadkarni wrote a piece of friends occupying the love space not yet filled by one person, with a great riff on Platonic Love.

And that was before I saw all the comments, which pulled off the rarest of rare feats; comments numbering above 10 without one being negative. Turns out we all have friends.

Note: Given Aditi's status as an editor, the first and second prizes will be awarded to Deepa Krishnan and Meenakshi/Blokesablogin. Thanks Aditi, we owe you six cents:)

Honorable mentions:

Joseph Thomas (Jo) for a song - yes a song!!! (Valentine Day's Song - Let Them Sleep - that he arranged and sung himself. Top effort. It's not quite my speed of music but inspiration clearly hit him right between the ventricles.

Deepti Lamba, for her volume of posts and for touching on so many different angles - humor, familial love, eternal, dark - of the unfathomable but irresistible.

All the entries for the Valentine's Day contest can be found here. Winners will be mailed their coupons. Congratulations and thanks for expressing your views.

Singing Telemarketers Away

Mike Ghouse — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 10:50:52 EST

On a Sunday afternoon, the phone rings as I was wrapping up with my usual routine; folding the clothes. It was a tele-marketer from India and she wanted to sell the long distance phone service to me. I thanked her for the call and said that I already have a service and will stick with it.

The Tele-marketer was not easy to get away from, and I wasn’t going to be rude to her, she is earning her living. She was determined to sell the service to me no matter what and later on her boss joins her. Now a team of them have decided to “get” me.

I insisted that the service is not for me and that they should take my number off their records.

She would not give up, so I decided to have fun, instead of getting frustrated.

The phone rang again and I picked up and without missing the beat, I started singing. Those who know me from my Radio days know what it means; some one has to pay me to stop it. If you are in the fifties and are a Desi (they-see), meaning people from the Subcontinent – i.e., India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal and Sri Lanka, you would enjoy the following scenarios. Heck you may smile any ways.

The kids on the other end were debating about the song, the singer and the like. I started out with “I yeiy ya, karoon my kya, sooku sooku”. I can hear the debate on the other end, “it’s got to be Jeetendra” and one actually said Shah Rukh Khan. I jumped in to their conversation, “it is Shammi Kapoor in Junglee singing Rafi and not Sonu”. Jeetendra was Oo, Ooo from Farz.

A “Thank you sir” in unison came from the other end. They could not be happier, they were courteous and hoping that at least at the end I would listen to their pitch. I wasn’t going to do that! They hung up, and called back to see if they were calling the right number.

I started “ O door ke musafir, hum ko bhi saath ley lay” .. there goes the debate again… They hung up and called back.

“ Ai mere dil kahin aur chal, gham ki duniyan say dil bhar gaya” This time the response was “What the hell was that?”. They did not know the song, nor could they figure out the singer, if it was Sunder Naidu singing, they could have guessed it, but meri tooti phooti awaz say o gana kaisay pehchanien ge? Even if it was "Yeh mera deewana pan hai" they would have recognized Prem Shah's awaaz. And of course, their parents would have just born in 1957 to recognize the movie Daag and the singer Talat. (yes, Lata also sang). They were saying in unison “thank you sir” hoping again to possibly get business.

You may be surprised at my attempt to do “Sunshine on my shoulder” I did not even complete the sentence they were gloating on the other end “John Denver” they knew the song even if it is an oldie, at that time most of the songs remained fresh in India for another decade or two. Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline is an evergreen, ever fresh number.

It went on for about 20 minutes… Finally they gave up.

By God, this is the first time in my life, that I sang the whole song to a captive audience, may be second time. I sang once celebrating Najma’s life a month after she passed away. Growing up, my sister did not want to hear me sing, she pointed out the mangled up words and then my late wife did not want to hear either. She told me to take voice lessons and then she would listen, and I had seriously considered learning from Renu Chandra or Nasreen Reza. Heck, my friends in India did listen to my songs, on Sundays, five of us used to go out on a farm or a lake and sit down and take turns and I lucked out being in the circle and took my turn gleefully.

Thanks to the tele-marketers, I sang to my heart's content, five songs in full! I have memorized 1000 Songs. I was ready to play their game and was going to go all night.

Then the phone rings and I start singing again… they called back, and I sang again… then when they called for the third time, I realized they were calling about a remodeling job I was doing for them. They enjoyed it though and they knew it was me.

Poessay: Rosary 25 - pink flamingos, yellow roses, dark clouds

temporal — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 01:15:32 EST

credit CSM

yeh din bhee achcha din hay

aankh khhuli tou dekha oosko

woh jaan leva muskurahat

labouN per khil ga’aee

gulabi jaRa, pink winter nahin

indian summer ka din

her din say mukhtalif

her sheh, pyar maiN ghar’q

***

in the once lush vale, the clouds

carry hate to the desert

of expectations

cowering children play

with expectant dogs and cats

it is a world of animals and

runny-nosed children, their parents

breathing, but long since dead/departed

in search of made to order gods

that can fight their demons

***

chandni chalakhty hay

m’gar in badliouN main

thandak nahiN, aag hay

ik ameer des maiN bani

aag, teesri duniya kay

baasiouN kay liyaye

(moonlight cascades

through the fiery clouds

the benevolent fury

made in the first world

for the third)

***

over morning brew

she brought with that smile

we read about pink flamingos

and undies

political ploys and plays

and move to sports

while listening

for the traffic report

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

Ten Things That Never Happen in Desi Erotic Stories

Aaman Lamba — Sun, 8 Feb 2009 12:32:01 EST

The Indian sexual instincts have not always been repressed, limited to the traditional perception of Indian morality, or avoided literary/artistic interpretation. Even today, in the midst of overt repression and social inhibition, it should probably come as no surprise that the baser instincts combine with literary and exhibitionistic outpourings to make certain Indian websites rank higher in terms of traffic than many others. These sites form a certain subculture of post-modern, post-Colonial Indian society (Yes Dorothy, we have left Oz), and deserve perhaps greater sociological analysis.

Having subjected myself to a wide array of desi literary frottage and worse, all in the name of science, I can now reveal, only partly tongue-in-cheek, ten things that never happen in desi erotic stories. My sources are impeccable and diverse, and can only be revealed in private messages so as to avoid undue publicity and their further going underground, more power to them.

Warning: The following is definitely NSFW, and politically incorrect

1. Not all Indian women are Savita Bhabhi

2. She does bankers or lawyers, never techies or salesmen.

3. He has a small wiener. He is not always god's gift to women

4. She does it even though her husband gives it to her every night, and has no guilt afterward.

5. She does the dentist, not the doctor or the nurse.

6. Your colleague's wife comes on to your wife, not to you.

7. Both of you crash out on your Suhaag Raat because you're too tired from all the functions.

8. The young hot star gives your wife his autograph, and nothing more.

9. The tailor has a long ruler, but he uses it to measure a form-fitting blouse, which you try on at home.

10. The neighborhood aunty has a great kitchen, and she cooks in it.

The desi equivalent of Arthus Miller is still to arrive on the scene, although there are many claimants, so one is hopeful.

Poetry: does it matter

temporal — Sun, 8 Feb 2009 07:45:50 EST

does it matter?
will it matter?
if the legs are crossed
or left bare
swift's eggs broken from which end?
wrapped in traditional garb?
it does matter, perhaps
for legs that hold high office
and think with knee-caps?

pondering such
is the nadir
of thinking
(with the lower half)

and speaking of halves
we are not the other half
of halves lost in celestial orbits
though admittedly we are not whole

forgive me dear
last night...
forgive me last night
when in heat
yes, yes that happens
i said things
not meant to be aired

and while deliberating, we ponder
and muse unlike desani's hatter from
above the navel
which is where the sages think from

most deeds
resulting from the foresaken thinking
emanates not from above neck
nor from the heart below

and
drawing from our collective past
so many innocent sweet ones
have reminded us (all)
not to think from below (the waist)

which brings us to global warming
abusing resources of the dharti mata
non renewable ...
runaway population no one talks about
deficit in comprehension
worse than trade deficit
tolerance and un-valentinish love

worse than...
don't dare go there t
this is not the week nor the season
ha!
is there a season for madness?
who'd answer this?
desani? modi? kahane? goebbels? the son of son of ...?
and why not the daughter of daughter of ...?
(binte-binte for the un-initiated)

how could i mention desani
with the exalted ones?
does it matter?
will it matter?
when the abuses
emanate from above
and below

image credit zahra david

Book Review: Down Memory Lane by Ravi Govender

Amitabh Mitra — Sat, 7 Feb 2009 00:49:37 EST

My friend Ravi Naicker is a poet and a teacher in Umzinto, Kwa Zulu Natal. I told him about my desire to publish a book of South African poets that would focus on the politics of New South Africa.He immediately asked me to contact his friend Ravi Govender in Durban.

I called him up and requested him to introduce me to South African poets from Natal who were affected during the apartheid regime. He was enthusiastic and promised me to do the same. The same afternoon I chanced upon Ravi’s book, Down Memory Lane at a used book shop in East London. Definitely, this is the same Ravi Govender I had been talking that morning.

Quoting from Radio Lotus FM website –
Govender.....Ravi Govender was born in Victoria Street, Durban just two blocks from the Indian Market on October 17th not too long ago.

He writes two popular columns for POST newspaper - of which he is also on the editing team. He is a public speaker, entrepreneur, serves on the board of a Durban Hospital and also a successful author. His hobbies are rugby, reading and watching movies and he is a Hollywood film buff as well as a James Bond nut. Ravi’s favourite actors are Anthony Hopkins and Al Pacino and his favourite movies are The Wild Geese and any 007 movie. His take on Bollywood is that "Priyanka Chopra is the cutest thing on two legs" and he rates Veer Zara as his best Eastern movie.

Ravi has a regular programme ‘Off the Shelf’ on Lotus FM which has gained immense popularity over the years.

Down Memory Lane is a book of historic value as it documents events through the eyes of a small boy growing in an apartheid era. This book had me engrossed as pages unfolded the Indian culture that blossomed even in severely restricted conditions of that time.

Aziz Hassim, Award winning Author of the Lotus People writes in his Forward, ‘There is a saying that if you forget your past you will be condemned to repeat it. When I read Ravi Govender’s essays and his reminiscences about our somewhat chequered history, I marvel at his ability to recall Durban’s bitter sweet past with touching finesse and a depth of perception’

Regarding the ‘bhais’ (gangsters) that prowled the Durban streets during that time, Ravi has aptly named this chapter as ‘Bada Bing, Bada Boom’. He writes, ‘Some of the cadres that ruled the streets were as follows: Victoria Street where I was sired boasted The Victorians, The Queens Brigade reigned in Queen Street. The Salots which consisted primarily of brothers operated taxis near Kapitan’s Balcony Hotel in the Grey Street area. The Dutchins laagered in Old Dutch Road and The Young Americans were united in Bond Street.

They were mostly ‘toothless tigers’ trying to live off their former reputations. You know the type: one guy initiates an argument and then edges backward into his mate, declaring “hold me back, hold me back, before I kill him”

Ram Gopal Verma can actually make a film based on such a story in Durban involving such characters.

In his column ‘ Proudly Indian – Our contribution to a better world’ Ravi recounts, ‘November 16 1860,the first vessel, the SS Truro, left Madras, sailed to South Africa and was borne along more through sheer human spirit than spook and diesel.
Another factor attests to our success. Foremost in the life of our forebears was the need for a place of worship and a place for education. Parents still sacrifice their own comfort and luxuries to ensure they give their children a good education and go on to further studies, to enable them to have good careers and be productive citizens. It also serves to preserve the hard earned reputation that Indians have as valuable contributors to this country'.

Not bad for people who arrived here to be cane cutters and who have gone on to produce doctors, educators and captains of industry.

Cato Manor is synonymous with the apartheid in South Africa. During1949 and 1950 when the Group Areas Act was passed on by the government, people were forced to move from the place to townships like KwaMashu and the Indians moved to places like Chatsworth and Phoenix. Cato Manor became an international symbol of resistance to apartheid by Indians.

Ravi has written about forced removals of Indians from a place called Magazine Barracks. He writes ’the murder weapon was the diabolic Group Areas Act and the misery and turmoil caused by its death blow is unpardonable. The action of its perpetrator was unconscionable.’

Ravi Govender’s book, Down Memory Lane is an unforgettable narration of the Indian community’s resistance to alien laws, their sacrifices and finally their victory over all odds. The present generation of youth in India and overseas have a lot to learn from reading this book, his words continue to inspire us all.

The Desicritics Valentine's Day Contest - Celebrating Love

Deepti Lamba — Fri, 6 Feb 2009 12:37:46 EST

We have our conservative brethren to thank. Never has Valentine's Day been as important to us Indians as when we were told love was a Western imposition. This week till the sixteenth of February, Desicritics will celebrate the spirit of St. Valentine who gave his life to protect the right to love. We will celebrate love in all its shades.

We invite authors to take part in the Valentine's Day Celebration Contest.

There are a few basic rules:

1. All authors are welcome to participate - if you're not yet an author, mail us to sign up.

2. You may enter the challenge at any time before midnight, Eastern Time Zone (UTC-5:00), on 16th February, 2009. Your post should be in pending by then.

3. Posts should be about or relate to love in its many forms - so get creative.

4. Your articles can be of any type - fiction, opinion, memoirs, photo-essays, reviews, recipes, etc. Posts must be new and original, of course, and first published to Desicritics.

5. You are allowed any number of entries, but only one will be eligible for the prize - i.e. you can't get both prizes.

Editors and other members of Desicritics management are welcome to participate on a non-competitive basis.

Prizes: Online book coupons for Rs. 1000/- and Rs. 500/-, or equivalent to the two winning entries, as decided by a panel of judges to be announced shortly.