The Common Man's Party

Congress... BJP... Congress... BJP... And so it goes on. Always a battle where we are left to cheer for the lesser evil. For some, they'll compromise on the economy for a pseudo secular nation. For some, their so called culture and Bharat sentiments hold higher than lives of many. Most of them believe in mere change of diapers, a nation like ours need to. Dynastic monarchy vs tyranny was all our democracy ever was. Though they were divided by principle, they were united by cause. United in keeping us blind and ignorant. Neither parties minded the other, because it was an alternating system they followed. Like Gandhari blindfolded herself to live with Dhritarashtra, so did we blindfold ourselves to live with the governance. They took advantage of our reluctance and ignorance. And then yesterday happened.

For the first time, the masses got a third alternative, untouched by the vulture or the wolves. A party that was and will never be a part of either predators. While most of the alternatives are a break away disagreeing to silly ideology with the same corrupt people, here was a party, formed from the scratch, by the common people who had no affiliation towards politics but a vision to change the nation. A party that was a reply to a challenge thrown to an aam aadmi on being criticised. It's time the two superpowers realize we aren't tennis balls that have to be hit back and forth a court.

Never before have I sat before the television or looked at the newspaper so enthusiastically over election results. My usual reaction is meh, whatever. Either ways the nation looked doomed. But yesterday things were different. My entire Facebook newsfeed was filled with praises of AAP. I was delighted with the results of Delhi election myself. There was finally some home. I'm not sure as to how far can AAP go, but they're surely a start to better governance. The nation doesn't really want to keep its Hindutva sentiments, neither does it really want to see its money go down the drain due to a never ending hierarchy. All we want is democracy - of the people, for the people and by the people.

Many volunteers joined Arvind Kejriwal in his mission to sweep off the unnecessary hand that holds the nation and the fallen petals of the lotus that glorify it. No regional or religious sentiments were even needed by AAP to win our hearts. No caste or no minority were given any privilege. AAP looks at men and women alike, without bothering about sexual orientation or theistic inclination. All AAP is ever bothered is about the betterment of the nation. No volunteer was turned down, nor any differentiation took place. Brotherhood was witnessed without even mentioning the need to have one.

For the first time in many years, it was the aam janta with a huge grin while the dear politicians were teary eyed. Finally a statement has been made and the aam aadmi has spoken through his vote.

She Is Just Not That Into You

A boy sees a girl at some party or some marriage or just on the road buying vegetables. Her eyes are mystical, her lips are red, her smile is radiant, and she carries herself gracefully like a dancer. He goes behind her and tries to impress her. Now she sees him and realises that someone is following her. She over-reacts and gets the guy beaten up, or gives him some ‘gaalis’. Her face has a permanent frown on seeing the hero goof up. Yet he keeps following her and they bump into each other again. It’s all ‘kismat ka khel’. After a while, the boy somehow breaks the ice and makes the heroine fall for him. All this while, the girl was just playing hard to get. She was also obviously into him because she just falls in love with random stalkers. Sounds familiar?

That pretty much sums up our romantic movies. The hero always gets the girl in the end. The girl needs him more than anything and just pretends that she is fine by her own. We keep talking about how these Yash-Raj movies give girls a false hope. We forget that it does more harm to the boys as well. Boys think it’s their duty to stalk the girl till she becomes his because that is what Shahrukh Khan does on big screen. So they follow her and keep pestering her to love them back. They have no idea what respecting other’s feeling is. In our patriarchal society, it is often the boys who must chase girls. It talks about their manliness. They assume that girls are just waiting about for a stalker like a damsel in distress. They just don’t get it that she genuinely doesn't like them and would want to be left in peace. The never-give-up attitude comes to play. Egos get crushed. And hence rises the phoenix of crime.

The boys have physical power and access to all the equipment they need. They believe that the girl they are chasing dares to smug them off. It now becomes a play of power. It becomes ‘yeh ladki meri nahi toh kisi ki nahi ho sakti.’ Some throw acid on the innocent girl’s face and life. Sometimes they resort to murder. Sometimes they stick their filthy dicks inside her vagina to teach her a lesson and show her place in the society. They make sure that the girl is ruined for rejecting them.

Ours is a patriarchal society where men think they can have whatever they want and get away with it. Women are still suppressed to great heights.   Our Bollywood movies don’t help either. It is considered that if a woman is raped, it compromises the honour of her father/brother/husband. The rapist definitely objectify her, but what is to say of such a society. Is she a trophy of honour to her family? Gangsters rape mothers, sisters, wives and daughters as a medium of revenge. Nobody actually cares about the abuse done to her body.

Religion plays a vital role in encouraging male dominance. Many religions encourage beating wives who are disobedient and rebellious. She is supposed to be answerable to ‘her man’. Women are nothing but properties of our father later on handed over to a husband. Since they do a ‘meherbani’ of taking care of the daughter, they demand lump sum amount in ‘dowry’. We cannot fight against sexual injustice until we learn not to objectify women and respect her feelings and right. If she doesn't want to marry you or do exactly as you say, you have to understand that she has her freedom to do so. That won’t make you any less a man, if it will; it will make you more of a human.

P.S. – A note to women, if a guy asks you out or proposes you, please don’t slap them. Politely reject them if you aren't interested. There is nothing wrong in harmless asking out and we must also learn to respect feelings. 

To all my English speaking audience:

Gaalis - abusive words

kismat ka khel - game of luck

yeh ladki meri nahi toh kisi ki nahi ho sakti - If this girl doesn't become mine, she won't be anybody's

meherbani - favour

The Third Eye

Apologies to all my fans, I haven’t posted something in a while. I just went through my first writer’s block, a phase every writer must face. Anyway, I found a source of inspiration at last, my five hundred something gram Canon 600D slr.

Now my passion in photography dates back to our Manali- Chandigarh trip, when I was 10. I would always fight to get a chance to click the button, and I would always get the annoying “Don’t waste the rolls” from my mom. Since then, I wanted to own a camera, and do as I wish with it. Digital age has brought in more room for trial and experiments.

Since I bought my first ever dslr (I saved up pocket money and some of my gift money for this), I have started looking at the world with an all new eye. I would call my camera my third eye (rather second, I don’t really have a fully functional right eye). Here are a few points I would like to share with you all

1. The perspective matters the most.

Nothing can be defined as it is, it can only be defined how you see it. The key to photography is taking everyday objects in a fresh perspective. This means, we have to bend down to take photos of flowers and leaves at different angles. To take a photo of the subject, we must come down to its level.

This applies to life as well. We are quick to pass judgements about people on how they appear to us. The fat kid is lazy, the girl in shorts is a slut, that dude with tattoos is a druggie, that lady in salwar kameez is dumb... We do not even bother to hear the other side of the story and immediately categorise the world into black and white. If you put efforts, you can see anything in a different light.

How difference in light gives variotion to the leaves with the same primary properties

The background and the angle at which it is taken makes it unique

2. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.

No bragging here but someone told me that their photos never come good, but I managed to make that person look good in the photos I clicked recently. The compliment made my day, because as a photographer, I want everyone to see the beauty in what they normally choose to ignore. I agree that some people might be “photogenic”, but it really doesn't mean anything to a photographer. We can make anyone look good by just getting the right light, angle and timing. Our secret is simple; we actually see the beauty in someone or something before clicking it. You have to get past the stereotypical definitions of attractive. Accepting a person for what they are is the first step, embracing them is the bigger step here.

As I was walking home, I saw this cart which was neglected and unnoticed by passer-by’s. 

3. Patience is the key.

Sometimes, you will have to wait for eternity to get the best shot. A wildlife photographer will give you an elaborate speech on patience. You may see a bird or a butterfly, but as you aim to shoot, they fly away. After so many attempts, you may probably get a shot right. You shouldn’t give up or get frustrated, it happens to the best of us.

This is a lesson which not only helps you pull through photography, but also life. Remember, it’s always worth a wait.

I had to take many shots before getting it perfectly into the frame.

4. Be spontaneous.

While you have to wait forever, the butterfly on the flowers won’t. They don’t have a Facebook account, so they won’t wait around in poses till you snap them. You need to be quick and spontaneous at every opportunity you get. The sun is not going to last on the horizon till you get the perfect shot. Same goes with events. Children are the best subject of spontaneity. And trust me; the candid spontaneous shots often are the best ones.

To be so, you need practice with shutter speeds and other settings. You also need to be prepared at all times. Sometimes you will find something interesting in the absence of your camera as well. I have taken many photos with my cellular phone as well, in fact, most of my Instagram photos come directly from my cell.

Getting a good shot of kids is the toughest, which makes it the most treasured and beautiful snapshots.

5. Heartbreak is a part of life.

I took a wonderful shot of a fellow photographer capturing a tree. The background was a vibrant shade of royal blue. The composition was perfect. The photo was an epitome of perfection. For a girl who got a dslr few days back, it was flawless. I had all intentions of sending it to the newspaper to publish it in the photo gallery.

However, while transferring the photos from the memory card to my laptop, all was lost. I tried hard to retrieve it, but the card got overwritten. In all my teen years, I was never THAT heart broken. This was worse than having to read about Dobby’s and Fred’s death in Harry Potter. But I remembered Edison’s incident. When his factory burned down, he took it as an opportunity to eliminate flaws and build up a better factory. It motivated me to take better photos to overcome the loss.

Those who are interested to surf through my photographs, here is the link - https://www.facebook.com/dyutira?ref=hl

It would make my day if you like the page. In return I will probably click a masterpiece portrait of you someday J

For the rest, adios!

Last but not the least, Happy World Photography Day (it's on 19th August) to you all.

Nostalgic Departure

I haven't been active on my blog lately due a turmoil of events. Apology to all my fans (assuming I have some). Here is a personal piece written by me.

The sun had found its way under the ground. The streets were well lit by streetlights and headlights. Rickshaws, bikes, cars and trucks passed by, taking the liberty to honk at will. Few women carried their shopping bags and walked on what could somehow qualify as a footpath. A couple of boys walked pass, covered with mud. Shops were functional on the sides. The night was kept busy like always.

We all sat in the hall, occupying all the edges and corners. Some of them sat on the sofas and chairs while we youngsters sat on the floor. My dad’s whole family were gathered, casually reviving old memories. An air of nostalgia enveloped us. Each one was remembering and narrating anecdotes from their childhood in Madhurai.

My dad bunked school regularly to go to the movies. He had a small group who followed suit. His brothers were no less movie buffs. Once, my dad and his friends went for a movie when one of their dads came to his school. My dad’s brother told him that they had gone to some high-profile temple for some high-profile puja. He ran to find them and told them to maintain the same story. That reduced their punishment to a great intensity.

Once, someone from another colony had a small rift with my dad. His oldest brother went and bashed him up to the extent of landing him up in the hospital. There was no such thing as privacy in his store. They all were closely knit gang of bullies. But the entire store, even the neighbouring stores, were terrorised by my thatha. The ones who were attending nature’s call would neglect it and run away on hearing his cycle bell ring. It was almost as if he was some kind of Voldemort.

Once, the entire lot had come to Mumbai for my dad’s marriage. They were going somewhere by the local trains. At Dadar station, one of our relatives remembered that he wanted strings for his violin. So my dad told my other periappa to stand with the rest at a particular spot in the platform while he took the guy along with him to the shop nearby. He returned to find no sign of the gang at that spot. He asked his other relative to stay there and he went searching for them. After an hour passed by, he asked the railway authorities to make an announcement, summoning them to platform 6. My mama-thatha just caught the word “Ananthanarayanan”. Not having a grasp of the language, he assumed that something unfortunate happened. They all rushed to the platform and somehow reunited with my dad. Did I mention cell phones were just a dream back then?

We cousins had our own session of nostalgia as well. We discussed about the way we were as kids. In 3^rd standard, my teacher had told me that eagles fly at a height from the ground and we could spot it from tall buildings. My cousins, Aishwarya and Nandini, lived on the 17^th floor of their building, which was also near a dock. So I started with my eagle watching from their balcony. I stayed there for a week, religiously carrying out my eagle spotting every day. It grew on me as a fascination, which hasn't subdued yet. My cousins would join me at times. After I left, they started eagle spotting occasionally, producing its sound to lure it.

When I went to Madhurai for my vacations, I would meet my other cousins, Kritika, Srikanth, Suraj and Srinithi. Sometimes, the Mumbai cousins would join in too. We usually celebrated Diwali together. Srinithi, our youngest cousin (and the only one younger to me), would be horrified of the crackers. She would hide in her room, covering her ears and keeping the windows shut. Her parents would give her ears some extra protection too, while we all would burst crackers (guilty) together. It was great fun being with them all. We would always make fun of Srinithi. We all took it up as a challenge to get her out of the cocoon, but failed at it. We would play chor-police the whole day and the boys would always be the chor.

Suraj stayed in Mumbai till he was almost four. We both spent a lot of time together and there are photographic records to support the claim. Apparently he would hide all his toys in his closet, every time I went to visit him. Once, I did the same to him. Neither of us have memory of such actions; we just trust what the older folks say.

Nandini told us a story of when she was in Bengaluru with Aishwarya and Suraj. They were pestering her dad, so he told them that there was a pool to the end of the road. They left and took a tour of the whole area. After a while, they lost their way. Her dad realised that they weren't home and sent a search party for them. Aishu was a little big, so she faintly recollected the area and took them home along with her. Till date, they never found the pool.

Pati’s departure to the other world indeed got us closer to each other. We spent time knowing each other and also our nephew and nieces. The rituals were a waste of money and time. However, they worked in bringing us closer to each other. And we finally got to making our own Whatsapp group.

For reference:

Periappa - Dad's elder brother (Tamil)

chor - thief (Hindi)

thatha - Grandfather (Tamil)

pati - Grandmother (Tamil)

Mother's Day Special

Here is my tribute to my own mom on mother's day. My way of expressing love, as writing is what i do best.

Remember when you are in a shopping mall, checking out some interesting cookies and chocolates, when you realise you have lost your mother. A moment of total panic, isn’t it? You start looking around for your mother all over the place. At that moment when you find her, you are finally at peace with yourself. No nirvana can beat that feeling.

Maa, Amma, Mom, Mum, Ami…. They go by so many names, just like God.  Being a mother is one of the hardest jobs and I bow down to every woman handling it with such ease. I for one can’t even take care of a really disciplined cat for five minutes. Mothers take care of their kids all their lives. When a baby gets cranky and loud, it is returned to its mother. We all see how cute and adorable the baby is, only the mother knows what a pain it can be. Yet she loves it more than any one of us.

The ‘Maa’ sentiment is well exploited in Bollywood as well. Any Indian will know this one:
Mere paas gaadi hai, bangla hai,  paisa hai…tere paas kya hai ?

Mere paas Maa hai.

Mothers surpass every other luxury. Everything else means nothing in front of a mother’s love and encouragement. She is the one who will ensure that you grow and make a living for yourself. She will drive you to get the gaadis and banglas to yourself. We are totally lost without her. She is the one who know exactly what you need.

For me, my mom is my best friend. Not because I tell her everything, but because she will make my favourite food to cheer me up even if I don’t. Once we had a monsoon trek in school and it was disastrous. I was depressed for reasons I have no intention to reveal to you all. I hadn’t told my mom what made me sad either. We were supposed to go for a movie that night but I was not up to it. She forced me to come for it, and I am happy that she did. I had the best laugh and felt cheerful after the movie. Whenever I am sick or scared, a hug from mom makes me feel safe. The day I feel off-colour, coincidentally there will be my favourite bhindi fry for lunch. Whenever she goes shopping and finds something of my liking, she buys it for me. She will be more excited about the stuff than me. She once got a chocolate shampoo for me.

When I was in St.Mary’s School, some of my teachers were unfair to me for no reason. She even complained to my mom that I am very inactive and dumb. The truth was that she never gave me a chance to answer any question, even if my hand went shooting up in the air like Hermoine. She even punished me for really minute reasons. My mom believed me and knew that her daughter couldn’t lie. She went to the head-mistress and reported the issue immediately.

When I was 11-12, I used to write many poems. I had written one about friendship, and it was a big hit among the people I showed it to. My mom urged me to send the poem to Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam. She googled his email address and made me send it. He replied to the mail in one line of appreciation. My mom went around flaunting it to everyone. Even now when I publish my blogs, she gets all her friends to read it.

In my early teens, I used to learn Bharatnatyam. We had an annual day program where all of us got 5-10 minutes of stage time to dance. My mother kept telling everyone that I will soon have my arangetrum. For those of you who don’t know, it is a milestone where you perform a series of dances (goes on for 3 hours or more). This is your first official performance, where you are acknowledged as an official dancer. Something like getting a graduation. I never really thought I could do it. To be mild, I wasn’t so good a dancer. I thought that my mom would be headed for a big disappointment. However, one year later, there I was giving my arangetrum. None of it would be possible without her. She pushed me to learn dance. She would be there to drop me and pick me up for practices at all odd hours and sometimes sit through the whole practice session. She would encourage me and my other co-dancers every time we were tired. She came with me to pick-up the saris and accessories, the photo-shoot and all the rehearsals. I owe it to her.

During my 11^th-12^th, when I was preparing for all those devilish entrance exams, my mom would ensure that I got all the books and material I wanted. Even now, she will ensure that I always have my pen-pencil and stationary. She wouldn’t let me leave to college without asking “Pass, Id, Paisa, Mobile sab liya na?” Every time I get nervous before and exam, she cools me down. And every time I have a bad paper, lo! My favourite food appears. She makes sure that I never go hungry and always eat my lunch and dinner. 

My mother is also an inspiration for me. She never lets the fact that she is not a man affect her independence. She is one of the few women who drives the car on her own rather than depending on dad. She is as involved in all the finances and decision making as much as my dad is. She works for social causes and also helps in running the society in her free time. She keeps herself up to date with all the happenings in the world. She is an example that a woman’s rule is not restricted to the kitchen.

Not all is rosy-posy as I have written though. Sometimes we fight like some world war. We don’t agree on a lot of things. Sometimes I am just a punching bag to vent her anger out. But it doesn’t mean I hate her or anything, I know that she just wants the best for me. In days of my childhood I have been lonely and with low self-esteem, she was the only one who always believed in me. No matter how old I grow, who I meet and how successful I become, I know that I am doomed without mom. I would like to thank my mom for everything. (Mom, if you are reading this, I expect some pulikachal soon :P).

A Dream; to Light a Tunnel

I came across a competition in 'Indiblogger' where we had to write about a good business idea. There has been an idea which has been going on in my mind and I take this opportunity as a motivator to write this blog, and also help organise the idea in my own head

India is a country where we worship Goddesses, yet behind the doors we abuse them. We idealise the ‘bharatiya nari’, a lady devoted to her husband. For her he is a God, and she must accept whatever he does. He may use canes and belts on her, but she submits to it because it is her fate. She does not believe that she deserves a life of dignity and freedom. Many such harassed women do not get out of the miserable life, and the reason for this is simple. They aren’t educated enough. If they run away from their house, where are they supposed to go? They are afraid to go out and face the world. The ones who do, get abducted into the world of shameful professions. They have no place to live nor are qualified for any jobs. Even low end jobs need some kind of degree. Hence, the husband and his family have no fear. They know that they can get away with treating her like dirt.

Many students, residing in hostels, are served half cooked or fully burnt meal. Some bachelors, living in p.gs and rented apartment survive on Maggi Noodles and other ready-to-eats. Young employees eat vadapavs and samosas for lunch, because that is the only available thing in the canteen. None of them have enough money to spare for a good cook or to eat out regularly. They all miss their mother’s food or any homely food.

These are two completely different problems, yet they both point out to the same solution. The two set of people I spoke about could share a symbiotic relation. These ‘bharatiya naris’ have been trained well to cook and take care of the house.  They have been taught well to serve. Maybe they are not educated, but they possess skills of their own. These women can be sent to the hostels and offices to make a good meal. They don’t have to be paid a lot, just enough for survival. We could start a hostel for them to live in. Some of them can work for luncheons and canteens which youngsters often turn to.

Starting a business like this is not the least easy. We will have to look up for good start-up money. Once we get that, we will have to keep in mind that the women in need of help will not reach out to us. They may not be aware of the institute, or even if they are, how to get in contact. Some will be simply afraid. We will need lots of volunteers to help us out. Surveys have to be conducted, and some unofficial spying too. We will also have to approach the companies in need of service and strike the right bargain with them.

For the money part, I will need some millionaire to back me up. I do have faith in humanity, so after some searching I am sure I will find someone. There are many rich people out there waiting to help the world with money; some for a clear conscience and some to boast about it to others. Nevertheless, making the best use of it, I want to do something noble for these women. We will also have to focus on collecting charity from common people. Little drops do make up the ocean after all.

We will need plenty of volunteers, and it is not an impossible task to get them. House wives could dedicate time to the cause and watch two less ‘saas-bahu’ serials. It will be a positive change for them too; many feel frustrated and worthless sitting at home. Some retired employees, who are good in health, can lend a hand too. Most important target will be the college goers. Most of them are dying to be of some use to humanity. They still have a pure heart and hope to change the world, an attitude that gets the job done faster and better. Some more students can be lured by the use of ‘certificates’.

For any business, records have to be maintained, that’s where ‘computers’ and the internet gets a role. Volunteers and workers will have to keep records of the situation in every house. Medical and security aid must also be organised from time to time. A data for each woman we help must be maintained too. Services of Microsoft Sky Drive will help maintain a collective data, instead of keeping separate records for each person. It can be updated from anywhere. Microsoft’s new Office 365 (www.office365.in ) would make the work easier for us, being one of the most convenient, user friendly and secured facility. Sometimes, neighbours of the victim would want to help. They will need a proper medium to get in touch with us. Social networking sites will be of great help here. Facebook, Twitter, Linked-in, Share-point are a few popular sites which can help get volunteers.

I really hope I can convert this idea into reality someday soon. It pains to see the helplessness of a female in this “advanced” society and I would want to change it. Being a girl myself, I can understand what many of them go through and how hard is it for them to live. I want us to fight for our respect and freedom, rather than live in the shadow of the devilish male dominant world.