A day in the bazaar: Handicraft shopping in Delhi

Dark Knight Rises Review: A conversation with my ten year old son

((Warning: Reveals the plot. So those who intend to watch the movies please do not read any further))

It was late in the night when I came out of the theater, having watched the latest Hollywood flick, The Dark Knight Rises, with my ten year old son Tintin. Both of us had had a whale of a  time – great action, superb story and some tasty popcorn.

Tintin: Awesome. (He gave his verdict.)

Me: Yes, great movie. Less humor than Spiderman, though.

Tintin: That Miranda Tate was a villain. I was so surprised. She was the kid in the well?

Me: Yes. And the Catwoman was not so bad after all.

Tintin: (With a scowl of disapproval) She was bad. She got Batman into the trap of Bane. Imagine if he had failed to escape. But why did Miranda hate Batman?

I explain the plot to him. That Miranda was a victim of the ‘system’ and hated it. Batman was the defender of the city of Gotham. She wanted to destroy Gotham and Batman was in her way. I also explain that Gotham city symbolized the World, but more specifically the Western Civilization, while Bane and Miranda can be equated with today’s terrorists and Maoists.

Tintin: (Confused) Why were the poor people being tortured and put into prisons?

I realized that I had opened a Pandora’s box. I decided to change the track to bang-bang.

Me: Did you notice that Batman rarely uses guns. Most of his fights are hand to hand.

Tintin: That’s why Catwoman said she did not believe in his no-guns policy, when she shot Bane?

Me: Batman wants to restore order with minimum of bloodshed. He normally wants to put criminals into jail, and not kill them.

Tintin: But they said jails were full. Why?

Me: (falling into the trap again) Jails are full because there are extremely rich and extremely poor people. When the poor are exploited, they resent. When they rebel violently, they are thrown in jails.

Tintin: (with conviction) That’s wrong.

Me: (trying for a quick course correction) That is what the movie says, but people cannot be allowed to kill innocent children. For example, even if our system is wrong, you are not responsible. Why should a terrorist kill you?

Tintin: (thoughtfully) The terrorists are wrong.

I sighed. No one really understands who is wrong and who is right any longer. Up till now such dilemmas were part of the vocabulary of the ‘bleeding heart liberal’ intellectuals. But now such questions are being posed in the popular culture by superheroes. Difficult times ahead for the next generation.

Me: Yes the terrorists are wrong. By the way, Alfred the butler was really happy to see Batman living a normal life as Wayne at the end of the movie. (I tried to draw his attention to the good ending.)

Tintin: Ye…es, but what will happen to the people who were in the prison?

I realized the movie had had a deep impact. I quickly changed the subject to the upcoming flick Superman, to avoid getting deeper into world politics and ruining the moment.

But I could not help but thinking that the movie had damned both the system and the challengers. The movie itself gave no answers – Batman could only just restore the fragile old order. It raised questions that probably the next generation will have to answer. For me, that was not a ‘good’ enough ending, but I guess, for the moment that is where we are. And in that sense it was an honest movie, definitely a cultural milestone.

***

No place for strangers

 

Wrong color, wrong size, wrong features

No, no, no!

This is no place for strangers, my friend.

 

 

Wrong thought, wrong word, wrong move

Can hurt!

Be careful whom you trust, my friend.

 

 

Wrong world, wrong time, wrong attitude

Adapt or leave!

We live in packs, in clans, my friend.

 

 

Wrong education, wrong books, wrong arguments

Do not work here!

We have all the knowledge we need, my friend.

 

 

Wrong painting, wrong cartoon, wrong song

You offend so!

Be sensitive to our sensibilities, my friend.

 

 

Wrong caste, wrong creed, wrong language

Remember your place!

We never cross our lines, my friend.

 

 

Wrong class, wrong job, wrong side of the city

Do not presume our goodwill!

We have rules for everyone, my friend.

 

 

Wrong tribe, wrong gang, wrong loyalties

You are marked!

We have to protect our own, my friend.

 

 

Wrong border, wrong picket, wrong barricade

Say the password!

Sorry, we have our orders, my friend.

 

***

Rule of law

The law is clear –

There is a clear direction

In the country: the law –

(One of the great

Traditions given to us

By the colonial rulers,

And observed since

As an honored convention)

Says- ‘The more powerful

Can loot

The less powerful.’

 

Nothing can be simpler

To understand;

One wonders why

There is so much

Confusion.

In all places

Where there is rule of law

This law is observed

Faithfully.

 

It is in the jungles

Or where the civilization has collapsed

That you find

The obnoxious spectacle

Of the poor looting the rich,

Of the exploited

Picking up the guns, and hiding

Dastardly behind the bushes,

To shoot at the powerful.

 

By undermining

The law of the land;

 

By questioning

The rightful authority;

 

By grabbing

What is not mandated to you

By those who decide;

 

By obstructing

The march of civilization –

When you are expected to side step

And let it march ahead

To wherever it is going;

 

By creating doubts

With your silly arguments

And fake stories

Of hunger and exploitation

 

And by your incessant whining

 

And by your not following

The simple law

That determines

Who exploits whom

And who is permitted

To loot whom –

 

By all these acts of deliberate defiance

Of the law of the land,

You lose our sympathy,

And justify

Whatever action

Is mandated for you

By those who decide.

 

Please remember-

It is in all our interests

To uphold the laws

Given to us

And adopted

Or created

By those who are mandated

To decide on these things

By us.

 

***

 

Top ten (and more) psychological advantages of being an Indian

Mind boggles at the sheer advantage that one gets from being an Indian. It is a pretty comfortable culture to be a part of, provided you can tolerate all the other crack-pots around you, like they tolerate you. Consider this randomly thought-of list of psychological advantages:

(Warning: Ultra-nationalist, ultra-patriotic, ultra-sensitive Indians need not waste their time reading the list, for you guys already know everything.)

1. You will never feel lonely or an alien, anywhere in the world – nay, even on Mars. (When you get down from your rocket, there will be an Indian taxi to welcome you.)
2. Even if you are dumb, wherever you go people, by default, will think you are an IIT-an, and a geek. An early advantage always helps.
3. You can always be on a high moral ground, being from the world’s largest democracy, though you may never have cared to vote in your life.
4. You are not bound to follow laws and rules. Traffic rules or traffic lights are an example – here you are the master of the road. Another benefit is the thrill that you get on reaching home in one piece, for it is always a gamble.
5. You can lecture the world on the greatness of Hinduism, of family values, of spirituality, of Gandhian thought etc etc….while being ignorant and intolerant at the same time.
6. You can be proud of things people did thousands of years ago, as if it was you (or your grandfather) who was directly responsible.
7. You can be a full-grade male chauvinist but still flaunt your Goddess-worshipping culture and claim to be the most liberated-advanced-enlightened race.
8. You can give a few rupees to the nearest beggar, have a dip in holy Ganga or recite a holy mantra, and all your guilt (for your cheating, lying, exploiting, corruption, thieving etc) gets erased, as if by magic. Great therapy is available for free.
9. You can always flaunt being a part of a multi-cultural, multi-religious, multi-race, multi-linguistic society – though you may never have learned any of the other languages of your own country, and may even be bad-mouthing other  communities on the internet social sites.
10. You can lecture the world on the half-baked ideas on Vedanta that you have read from English text-books. It is pretty satisfying to know that all what the scientists of the Western world are slogging to discover was already known to YOU.
11. Pray to a God of your choice (from an assorted set of thousands of them) or even remain atheist or agnostic (for those are also valid religious streams in Hinduism), fanatically follow from any of the ideologies ever propounded (all have popular pockets of influence in India), do nothing in life except argue and criticize (Amartya Sen approves)….
12. Have a great family support, with parents feeding and supporting you for virtually your entire lives, till they live that is. Feel pretty superior about your joint family traditions, though you may not even remember the names of your first cousins. Have the psychological support of a huge family (which acts like a New York gang in times of trouble) to support you in bad times (i.e. when you have really messed up your life being selfish and careless). It is, indeed, a great advantage.

I could go on and on, but I think you get the idea. No wonder Indians love to create ‘mini-Indias’ wherever they go.

***

The Mall Girls

They line up outside the Malls

Before they open,
They are the last ones
To be chucked out;
They plan to spend their honeymoon,
Nay, their lives,
In the glittering environs
Of shopping arcades
For they are, unabashedly,
The Mall Girls.

 

They need a lot of dresses

And accessories to go with them,
They need some plastic money
And a nice designer bag;
It takes  care and planning
To be just right
When they are on the marble floor
Of the spanking urban oasis
Of modern life – for they are
The Mall Girls.

 

They lose their heart early in life
They bunk schools and college,
They forget their homes and kids
To be where their heart is;

Though they found their love

When young,
They remain loyal till the end
They pine to be with their love
Everyday, for they are
The Mall Girls.

 

                                                                 ***

A Poet’s world

A poet lives on a rainbow.

When he descends

to write about the poor,

he fails to notice the tattered clothes,

or the stench of disease

in their sweat, in their breath –

he can only see a brave man

loved by the Gods.

 

The landscapes in his poems

are either sunrise or sunset

(preferably on a beach);

and when he writes of deserts

he misses

the fierce mid-day heat,

the searing sand,

the cacti and the scorpions.

 

The world of a poet

is rhyming, metered, musical.

His ears are not tuned

to register the jarring note

of jealousy and sarcasm.

He believes

that all laughter is joy,

and all smiles are honest.

 

Let us drag the poet

to a market and make him sit

with the ledgers, or the beggars;

let’s make him carry coal

on an empty stomach.

And in the evening, let’s take him

into the graying lanes

where the mobs feed on the innocents.

Let’s squeeze poetry

out of the poet.

 

***

 

The Coffee House

 

 

 

 

 

I like to sit in a coffee house

And see the world pass by.

 

 

I love to look at the elegant bags

Swing to the music

Of the pencil heels

That clatter smartly

Against the marble.

Here, life is a friend-

It sits with you

And drinks the heady aroma

Of the coffee beans.

 

 

I love to drink the tropical aroma

In the chilled coffee house.

 

I look at the neatly arranged

Photographs

of past revolutions.

I admire the ruggedness

Of Che Guevara

Who peers down the wall

And approves

my thoughts

On Hegel and Kant.

 

 

These days, the coffee house

Is the safest place to be in.

 

The frontiers of my world

Are marked

by the barricades

That are put up by the police

around the market.

The barb-wires are there

To protect my thoughts

and to keep out

the reactionaries.

 

 

Here, at the coffee house,

reason reigns supreme.

 

***

Wish-list of a modern rebel

(1)

I need the prison bars

To clang the metal plates;

I need the unjust laws

To rebel against.

 

(2)

I need a social order

To shake my finger at;

I need a structure, a system

To rebel against.

 

(3)

I need an ideology

That rages against injustice-

I need the grand symbols

To rebel against.

 

(4)

I would like to have a dictator

Or at least a strong leader-

I can even use a weak democracy

To rebel against.

 

(5)

I need the stories of the exploited

(I know none of the poor);

I need the cutouts of exploiters

To rebel against.

 

(6)

I need printed placards and tattoos

I need a huge public square;

I also need a few tanks

To rebel against.

 

(7)

I need glittering glass buildings

That reflects a magnified me;

I need a working economy

To rebel against.

 

(8)

I need the media, biased and vulgar,

I need the police, armed with batons;

And I also need the barricades

To rebel against.

 

(9)

I need a person who loves

To absorb all my hates;

I need a doting dad

To rebel against.

 

(10)

I need sandwich, and coke

And a home to come back to;

I need a system that listens

To rebel against.

 

(11)

I need the best education

To tell me all about freedom;

I need the pillars of the University

To rebel against.

 

(12)

I need the Barista to plan the rally

I need good Nike shoes;

I need the multinationals

To rebel against.

 

(13)

I know not how the tribals live

I know not the extent of their trials;

I need the forest laws on the net

To rebel against.

 

(14)

I need a crowd, a rally,

Full of guys, filled with rage;

I need the orators to tell me

What to rebel against.

 

(15)

I need the street-lights

To smash to smithereens;

I need public property

To rebel against.

 

(16)

I will rage against the Americans

Till I get the Green-card;

Till then it will be the Greenbacks

That I will rebel against.

 

(17)

I need a father to print money

Though I do not know how;

All I need is his sense of guilt

To rebel against.

 

(18)

I know not who makes the laws, or why

But I do know my Rousseau;

I know that the laws are made

To rebel against.

 

***

 

The ‘Cosmo’ dream

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Get the perfect brow for your face

Flatten your belly, have the curves;

The hottest tips for the new season-

Get the glittering stones

And the perfect nose.

What else is there

What can be better,

Than a Cosmo dream.

 

Thousands of desires

In three hundred pages!

L’oreal, Garnier, Chanel,

Tissot, Swatch, Mango, Zara,

The pantheon, the touchstone.

Each desire carefully chiseled, carefully styled,

Each dream, worthy to die for-

That’s the package, that’s the promise.

 

How many, if any,

Can have the Cosmo look?

At what cost, the Cosmo life?

The Cosmo dream sells for a few dollars-

(It can be had for free on internet);

But the Cosmo life does not come cheap-

The merchants will mail the cost

Of the Cosmo look, on request.

 

Forget the tycoons,

And their mansions, and their yachts

That are featured lovingly here-

The Cosmo dream is meant for you.

The masthead does not say-

‘Cheat, steal, exploit.’ It does not tell

How to fund your dream;

It just says, ‘The best you can be.’

 

No crease, no wrinkles, no tears, no doubts,

Organic food for breakfast, with honey,

Holiday with the monks in Tibet,

Opera in the evening, in Rome

Choppers and Lamborghini

Mansion in the Alps, and New Zealand-

Would it not be plain silly,

Not to dream the Cosmo dream?

 

***