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Monthly Archives: April 2009

AHEM- AHEN -yes, the “N” is on purpose

This is hardly enough, but hey, whatever helps.

I generally pride myself on very few things- my excellent views on organized religion, a few of my art work, and most importantly my ability to be a rather good friend and I actually love the latter, a lot. Vanity may come before a fall, but since I manage to have so many friends, at least I’ll bring down a few others along with me if I do fall. And hey, I have to have a few negative points in my characters. “Nobody wants a saint. Saints are boring.” Trust me, you don’t wanna give a shit where I referred that from.

Anyway, there is one aim alone for me writing this blog right now. I wronged a friend. Well, not so much as wronged her. In the great scheme of things, what with undisposed nuclear waste and global warming this really doesn’t matter, but it feels wrong, and that’s as good a reason as any to apologize.

I forgot Neha’s birthday and realized it the next day. Then I decided that maybe I can try and avoid that fact by not even mentioning it. Don’t ask me the logic behind that, I’m very mindfucked, and my usually rational brain has lost quite a few of its cells lately.

And I owe a lot to this girl. For those who know me now, and know that I’m commitment-phobic, yall should know, you’re seeing the best version of me as of now. This chick, Neha, was the one who finally was able to make me say the word “love” between the words “I” And “you”- only platonically used mind you, but hey, that was an achievement in my personal history of extreme fear and dislike of affections. And yall should be thankful to her, or I wouldn’t have uttered the words that caused much amusement among my batchmates recently šŸ˜€

So Neha, I love ya, and I think you know that- again, I only love ya platonically, should clarify šŸ˜› Really sorry about the goof -up. Repeat that a thousand times and you got how sorry I am.

*puppy-dog-face??

 
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Posted by on April 22, 2009 in Public statement, Reminiscing

 

Normal

One of the things that disturb me hugely about the way homosexuality is perceived, is the fact that gays and lesbians are called ā€œqueerā€. If you think about it, itā€™s rather an odd name to give to a group of people isnā€™t it? ā€œQueerā€- as if who they are make them strange. And from there, as if everyone else is not queer, and completely normal. And picking it up from there, what exactly is normal anyway?

Iā€™m not even going to start discussing the law here, since I have learnt that no matter what side youā€™re on, itā€™s a long, clichĆ© debate that refuses to end no matter what anyone says.

I don’t have a problem with gayness. In fact, being a girl, I have often wished I found the female form attractive, since quite obviously, there is not much to like in the male form (for further information on this, check out the part in that sucky movie ā€œGigliā€ with Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez in it where sheā€™s doing yoga and he asks her why she prefers women). I definitely find women more aesthetically appealing than men, but regretfully, I have yet to be attracted to one. Plus women are too whiny sometimes; I donā€™t think I want to deal with that.

However, my view on what gayness is all about, i.e. ā€œhow does it start?ā€, ā€œare you born with itā€, ā€œare you just imagining itā€, etc. is slightly different. As far as Iā€™m concerned, these questions donā€™t matter. And I don’t mean that in the ā€œthey donā€™t matter because they are humans too and weā€™re going to treat them just like one of usā€ way, although that would be great, if people thought that. What I mean is, these questions are of no consequence whatsoever even while looking at gayness in a supportive, scientific, rational manner.

I remember when I first thought of this. I was watching ā€œTransamericaā€ ā€“ brilliant movie btw ā€“ and something Tobyā€™ character struck me. He was a prostitute for both men and women, and he did not mind or like or dislike one more than the other. He had an aim, a sad one from most standards, but an aim nevertheless ā€“ he wanted to get to California, dye his hair blonde and star in gay porn. And the strange part was, he wasnā€™t gay, at least not by the definition we generally tend to give to gays. He had no problem with sleeping with guys, and no problem sleeping with girls. And he was definitely willing to try and sleep with Bree (don’t let me get into the goosies- the bad kind- the incest thing gives me) despite the fact that he knew she used to be and still sort of was, a man. And in the end, he does get a job as a gay porn star, and he doesnā€™t seem disgusted at all by kissing a guy (albeit a good looking one) even if he did have problems getting an erection despite a blue pill.

That movie made me think of homosexuality in a completely different way. Think of a marriage with one gay party. In general, this marriage would have issue, i.e. there would be kids in this little happy family. Now, if gay guys were attracted to guys only how on earth did he (to put it crudely) get it up enough times with his wife to produce at least three kids? And before yall start screaming and waving your arms about, let me clarify. Iā€™m not saying the guy is imagining it, and heā€™s actually straight. What Iā€™m saying is that the definition of homosexuality and gayness is very narrow. It canā€™t simply be understood as a situation wherein a person is attracted to a person of the same sex only. Not all gay people are disgusted by the thought of sleeping with someone of the opposite sex, although that may be the case with some.

In the same way, straightness is an over-rated condition as far as I can see. Quite simply, while Iā€™m not currently, nor in the past have been attracted to women, the thought of being with a woman is not disgusting. Itā€™s ok. I would prefer to be with a man as of now, but if I ever end up falling for a woman, I wonā€™t think itā€™s weird.

I have read several period novels and history books, with references to homosexuality. And the thing is, in most or some cases, homosexuality isnā€™t just that. Someone may be attracted to both men ad women, and may in society not talk about the part that makes them gay. While no-one talked about it, it was acceptable (btw, yes I know of the term bisexual and there is a reason Iā€™m not using it).

In fact, oneā€™s sexuality should ideally not even be of any bother to society. As long as youā€™re not forcing things on people, what you do in your own bedroom (or kitchen, or living room, or floor) is your own business. It is with religion that the question of sexuality even becomes an issue. I donā€™t know what most religions have got against sex, but as far as Christianity is concerned, sex and any pleasure you derive from it (you should try not to though) should have one primary aim- to produce kids. Thus, the anti-contraceptive policy of the Catholic Church. And if youā€™re gay, dear God, youā€™re canā€™t produce the little rascals even if you wanted to!

As far as I have learnt of Hindu Jurisprudence, progeny seems to be the primary aim of a marriage here as well. But other than the prejudice that exists in modern society against homosexuality, historically, I donā€™t think Hinduism minded homosexuality too much, at least judging by sculptures in various Hindu temples. Or sexuality at all for that matter, since we did come up with the worldā€™s best known sex-book. Relax, from this point onwards, I shall leave my organized-religion-bashing for another day.

Maybe weā€™re all just a little bit gay; and this next bit I can say with a bit more conviction- most of us who are straight, are probably straight because weā€™ve never wanted to try it with someone of the same sex, maybe weā€™ve never met some one who makes us want to try.

To sum up, my thoughts match quite accurately with this line from Trainspotting (I like the movie, btw. And definitely more than Slumdog Millionaire) ā€“ ā€œif you ask me, weā€™re heterosexual by default not by decision. Itā€™s just a question of who you fancy. Itā€™s all about aesthetics and its fuck all to do with morality.ā€

 
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Posted by on April 13, 2009 in Issue, Public statement

 

CURTAIN

No, this is not my last post (please, I don’t give up that easy). My intention is merely to talk about theater. Since I came to NALSAR, theater, which used to be a significant part of my life had ceased to be even part of my life until recently.

Itā€™s amazing, you would think that one would only have to start shriveling up inside (as far as I have seen, it seems to be a necessary qualification in order to be a responsible, mature adult) after you get a job. And by shriveling up I mean slowly and steadily giving up the things you loved, for more age-appropriate and career-appropriate hobbies and practices. You know what Iā€™m talking about- giving up beer for wine perhaps is a good example. Well, as I was saying, you would think you only have to start this gut-wrenching ritual after getting a job. However, having been a law student for the last 9 months or so, I have discovered that it starts much sooner than that.

And so I donā€™t sketch often, I don’t really have anywhere (as in any occasion) to dance in, I basically donā€™t read books (at least not from an actual physical book as opposed to an e-book) for the four months I spend in NALSAR, I donā€™t clean my room every day (law school seems to make you get rid of your compulsive eccentricities as well), and I have only recently been affiliated to the small drama club that does exist in NALSAR.

What I used to love about theatre, and still love about it, is that itā€™s very simple. Itā€™s not easy, but itā€™s simple. You donā€™t have cinematography, you donā€™t have editing, you don’t have zooming in and zooming out. Instead, you have a stage, lighting, costumes, props, and you. And with these you can hold the attention of an audience for as long as you want. Your face can never be in detail a it would be with a camera, and ypu definitely canā€™t airbrush thing out but every character will be in the limelight, at some time or the other.

Remembering lines is another adventure. You have to do that, and you have to do that so many times that at first, it becomes mundane, and then it becomes so mundane that they become part of you, so much so that you start unconsciously quoting them in real life. And then you gain interest again, the kind of interest that is temporary (till you have performed), but is very similar to the kind of interest you develop in a classic movie- the kind that allows you to remember lines verbatim from it, and say it with feeling every time you want to.

One of the things I selfishly love about theatre is that when you are on stage and you can see lights, the audience and your co-workers, you know that life stands still for once, at least for you. You know that no matter how insignificant your role or anyoneā€™s role is, one glitch can make or break the day. Because there are no second chances, no retakes. Itā€™s you, your co-workers (who you end up trusting more than you trust most of your close friends) and the audience. And for every second you are on stage, you hold the play in your hands. Call it megalomaniacal, but I do believe I should be allowed one such tendency.

But most importantly, drama gives me a release that nothing else does, and I mean that in a strictly non-junkie way. When Iā€™m on stage, I donā€™t take on the role of someone else, I donā€™t become someone else, and I most definitely donā€™t act like the character Iā€™m playing. I just let out the part of me that is the personality of whatever character it is. That part of me which will either never resurface simply because I don’t function that way, or because I donā€™t know how to let it out, or that which I let out every now and then, particularly at certain times of the month. Once that is done, everything else pretty much comes on its own.

And all of it combines to form magic. To become a part of you, you generally don’t bother with; to hold time in your hands for a few seconds, and to be part of something that is bigger than you, but needs you. In some ways, being on stage is sort of similar to what my perception of what an ideal life would be, but probably never will be.

On that happy note, goodnight love. šŸ™‚

 
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Posted by on April 7, 2009 in Fluff, Reminiscing

 

Movies

W.N. – (1) I’m sorry Malvi, I’m technologically inept enough to not figure out how to increase the font size, although I somehow did just that in the last post. Anyone who has a wordpress blog, plea for help going into comic void…?

(2) I noticed in the last to last entry (Perversion) there are lots os spelling mistakes. The problem is, I have a very bad “S” key. It has a mind of it’s own so since I’m too lazy to edit it, you will have to manage by putting an “s” somewhere in any word that seems to not belong in a sentence. I was a little more careful this time. Anywho, sorry bout that…

Life is full of crap. Every day, something happens and this one fact gets reiterated again and again- To err, is human. Letā€™s not talk about the forgiveness part yet. Things are never perfect. NEVER. There is always a glitch in the machine, always a loose wheel, always an unanswered question and always doubt. Again and again as I said today, there are absolutely no guarantees in life.

There is one reason only for this lack of organizational skills in any deity who governs us. He/she/hermaphrodite deity can’t. No matter how religious some of us get, and how much we are willing to leave everything to said deity, the fact remains that we humans are fiercely independent. We refuse to conform. We refuse to become our perfect selves. We refuse to adhere to anybody’s ideas of what our destinies should be. The only manifestation of our need for possible perfection is the movies.

They are perfect. They start with an idea of what destiny is, and they end with the destiny being fulfilled. The bad boy becomes good after genuinely falling for the girl (She’s All That- trust me, I pride myself on not having watched that). The team which has the better person’s wins the game (Remember the Titans – although in all fairness that is based on a true story, like the credits say). The best friends fall in love (When Harry Met Sally, Juno). The world finally changes a bit because of one person (too many to count).

You only need to reach a certain age and live through a few classic experiences to understand that life is anything but a movie, that things are not always that perfect. That the bad boy mostly always remains bad, and the game is won by those who put in the most effort, and sometimes, by those whom luck favors (classic case- me getting into NALSAR); Friends remain friends or even stop being friends at all- not because they had a huge fight the root of which was unrequited love, but simply because they lose touch. And once you realize that, you hate movies for about a sum total of two weeks. After which, you run back to them.

And the answer is ā€“ Pandoraā€™s Box. Greek mythology is never clear. There is no version which is the exact same as another. Well, in the version I read, Pandora opened the box, with all the curiosity gifted to her by dear old Hera. And all the little monsters inside got out bringing sickness, despair, ill-luck, and stuff like that to all humankind. Pandora, as you can imagine was scared out of her wits, and you wouldnā€™t blame the dame for having no presence of mind- what with lizard-like creatures flying out of the pretty box. But surprisingly, she did have a bit of the said presence of mind and she shut the last of the little rascals inside and didnā€™t let him out. And so, humankind was never able to be perfect because of all the crap that was dumped on it. But we are not doomed. We are not doomed because the chick shut the last one in, and the last one was the one that brought hopelessness (yeah, sort of like Dementors), and humans can live without anything, but not without hope.

So, we go and watch the crap movies, and we hope, and strive and donā€™t give up. And we live through life which is this crazy, crappy wonderful thing out of none of us come out unscathed or even alive (footnote- P.S. I Love You). And there is something really surprising about the nature of our belief. No, it does not perform miracles, but it actually makes some things real.

Consider this. A long, long time ago, someone somewhere in the world felt something within them. It felt like nothing theyā€™ve ever felt before. They felt good and bad, ugly and beautiful at the same time, and it made them happy, and confused and it also made them suffer. But for the first time, someone who felt like this also ended up living happily for the rest of their lives. And whatever they felt, they felt about this other person. And so, since this feeling/emotion had been so great, this person decided it was time to name it, which hadnā€™t been recognized, so to speak as yet. For the record, it was not the result of a ā€œmagical herbā€ this s/he discovered. So anyway, s/he called this weird little feeling which had made him/her so happy, ā€œloveā€.

Yeah, I know what yall are thinking- could you BE more corny? But thatā€™s not the point. The point is, someone somewhere, a long time ago named something that was just an abstract concept. You canā€™t touch it, you canā€™t feel it, or hear it. You most definitely cannot describe it to people who have not felt it. And for all I know, it feels different to every person. But it was given a name. And surprisingly enough, every language seems to have a word for all kinds of emotions- love, jealousy, hatred, elation, happiness. So I can only conclude that people everywhere named abstract concepts. And today, just the name of these concepts can bring up about a thousand images and feelings in us.

THAT is what belief is. Somewhere, somehow, in the crazy world this, one iota of movie-like perfection exists – if you believe something enough, and if people believe in it, a part of it remains and becomes a fact instead of a belief.

And that is the beginning of all things that are human, and all thing that are so close to or far from perfection that we couldnā€™t possibly imagine an interesting life without them.

 
 

2 little poems about 2 people’s

Yeah, I don’t write poetry, I don’t even read it that often. these don’t have a scale and were written for one purpose only- fun. So yeah, šŸ˜›


This one about Ramesh- A turd if I ever saw one.

AN ODE TO WANNABE ASSHOLES

Thereā€™s nothing quite as shitty as Pol.Sci,

The teacher is a stinky piece of turd.

Heā€™s always trying to be so fucking pally,

It always ends up getting on our nerves.

He talks ā€˜bout stuff from many other countries,

But mostly he goes on about Isreal.

Someone should tell him to show us a little pity-

Why on earth didnā€™t he just remain there?

He tried to get a gult girl to stay with him.

She wasnā€™t dumb enough to agree.

Heā€™s sucha dirty tharki little prick,

Tank God that sight we didnā€™t have to see.

He comes to class in figure-hugging shirts.

A better sight than the one thatā€™s translucent.

Heā€™s quite obviously trying to be a stud,

He shows off undie-straps that are fake branded.

He constantly keeps talking ā€˜bout JNU,

ā€˜Bout all the traumatized girls he apparently had.

Wonder how they ever took in a man whoā€™s such a choot?

I do believe JNU must have been going through days very bad.

And now heā€™s torturing us in Nalsurr,

What ever made him think he will be welcome?

Cause no matter how hard he hides that heā€™s a fucker,

We know heā€™ll always be a butthead.

And this one is about Das- brilliant friend, but a huge bastard *brit accent please*, ain’t you?

AN ODE TO DAS-NESS

My last name is Das

I really like to quiz.

1st name is Anjaneya

I think chakka varathiyada is fried in mallu piss.

I love myself much

But I can be a sweetheart.

I like to get drunk,

But I just don’t put on body mass.

I have a lovely girlfriend,

And I think sheā€™s brilliant and great.

But sometimes I think my ways I must mend,

Since I can be such a pain

Iā€™m mean to people I donā€™t like

And there are quite a lot of them.

Sometimes in people I find so much to mind,

People wonder how I ever got friends.

So thatā€™s me, my name is Das

I donā€™t care if you think Iā€™m Cocky

I beat ****** ****** in class,

And thatā€™s what really matters to me.

*Grinch/ Mr. Burns Smile*

FYI- many people have told me I have been very accurate, thank you very much. *my very own smirk* šŸ™‚

 
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Posted by on April 2, 2009 in Fun!, NALSAR

 

perversion

Well, I was going to write about the carpe diem but it seems pointless. It was brilliant! Despite the fact that we lot we managed to have an awesome time and next year weā€™ll know its much more than just this little event we all thought it was.

But now, down to more important things, like the topic of todayā€™s pearl. For the record, I don’t think Iā€™m a pervert. Not much anyway. Quite distinctly I would simply like to say that Iā€™m not even half as perverted as most of the guys I know.

My perversion is to this extent- I know what I like in a man. I know from quite a few accounts, from friends as well as the published kind, that sex can be pretty damn good thing and Iā€™m not disgusted by the thought of doing it with someone I like or love or whatever the situation may be. Mostly, I don’t try and hide these fact and openly admit them- among girl and guys.

Of course, wherever yall bring up my perversion, it generally is about when I talk about anything graphic. But the fact is bitches, that yall are not averse to talking about it are you? You quite openly do so in front of everyone. And yes, I am directing this to the guys. So to get this straight, when a chick express her non-disgust, in any way at all, towards sex and all its various forms and implications, itā€™s not all right. So there. I like the thought of sex, and Iā€™m not at all disgusted by almost anything that surround sex, except for overtly sado-masochistic sex. And although this is the World Wide Web, and I canā€™t really deny it like I would like to (having a reputation as a pervert is fun if nothing else), the fact is the only way the thought of sex would disgust me would be if I really didnā€™t like the guy or wasnā€™t attracted to him. Then sex would be disgusting.

Which is why I was always of the opinion that the best way to lose your virginity is with someone whoā€™s already lost theirs. Love is all good and well, but the kind of love that would translate into great sex without any experience is extremely rare, and frankly, I cannot wait for something that will probably never happen (for the record, I believe in love, just not for myself, but more on that later). So when you don’t love the other person, but really do want to sleep with him, then wouldnā€™t it be better, since youā€™re not in love anyway to have this person be someone who knows what theyā€™re doing? Fumbling around the first time in bed is not really something I look forward to.

I think next time Iā€™ll talk about statutory rape- as in doing it before 16. Spoiler alert ā€“ not something I approve of.