Feline Musings

This blog post is a fulfillment of the preliminary requirement to submit a real love story that can be considered by Harper Collins to be published in a short story collection written entirely by fellow bloggers across India. For details see – http://www.indiblogger.in/getpublished/

I have always wondered why Love as a concept and a term is almost always used in the context of love between two beings. I have seen some of the strongest forms of love reflected between a person and his art. I have also seen the untiring efforts that people make to get accomplishment and recognition in the area that they pursue.

The world of art, has somehow come to be inextricably linked with the world of glamor. If you want recognition in your pursuit of the arts, then age and persona remain important cornerstones. True lovers of their art and true connoisseurs, however, tend to ignore these facts and believe that age mellows the art, and time enhances the persona. Many, whose recognition and love the artist eventually seeks, may not agree and the artist is left sans recognition with his only true love – the love for his art!

In this story titled, The Last Song, I am narrating incidents from the life of people whom I worked with. I saw and and sensed their inner turmoil and emotional states very closely as they sought recognition and fame. This is an intense story and a one to which many pursuers of art can relate to but also a story that can become obscure because no one retold it. As a storyteller it is my privilege to write a story that reflects an aspect of the life and love of artists. It is for us to see how far this love can take us, or how true this love is!

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.

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Rituraj Verma calls his work – Love, Peace, and Happiness – a thought experiment. It is, however, more of a collaborative experiment because it leverages the power of the Internet. Rituraj has researched his stories on Wikipedia, penned them down and then invited readers and writers to suggest alternative endings to these stories. I picked up Verma’s book because of this concept and as I read his book it became evident that as a writer he was experimenting with not just one concept but with a few.

Verma has been forthright about his Wikipedia research to layer the stories in his book. These are, however, not just stories because by the end, the book emerges as a novella of sorts. I would, thus, call it an experiment in “episode writing” wherein the author is narrating episodes from the life of characters as stories, and their lives are intricately woven into each other. Another interesting aspect of his stories is that each one has a spiritual or psychological flavor to it, liberally garnished with mythological and historical elements. Rituraj highlights the aspect of modern Indian men and women, who are outgoing, successful, progressive, and yet are attracted to or even draw inspiration from the mystic, spiritual and even the psychic. Somewhere in between Rituraj has also found a channel to express his own philosophies on life thus making the book amply philosophical also.

Love, Peace, and Happiness is a strongly feminist piece of writing and coming from a male writer is a reflection of the influences in his life as well as his own perception of a section of society in India that is uncontrollably spinning towards a vortex of liberal thoughts and lifestyle but with strings attached. Such a journey is bound to have characters knock against the walls of their own idiosyncrasy and ideology. We see characters struggling through the maze of their confused and confounded existence. The men seem to suffer the most as they try to make peace with themselves and the existence of strong and independent women in their lives. It would be wrong to, however, say that the women don’t agonize because they are more level-headed or tolerant to a fault.

Rituraj has used this book as a platform to express the strange entanglements of love, matrimony, fidelity, and money in the life of the modern man. He has probably witnessed the turmoil in the life of friends and acquaintances and that is why the basic premises of his stories are not extraordinary or fresh. The cliché of old wine in a new bottle can be true in the context of Verma’s work. The author’s need to tell these stories, however ordinary they may seem, has thus resulted in a work that demanded that the reader be involved through the perspective of alternative endings. Here lies the uniqueness in Verma’s storytelling. Mumbai being the protagonist of his work, probably readers from the metros would enjoy the collaborative ending angle. It is a window of expression for many readers who observe and opine, imagine and contemplate but are unable to convey in writing.

On my part, I have yet to visit Verma’s blog for the alternative endings and see the readers’ responses. I did not want to color this review with any external influences and hence I have refrained from visiting the suggested hyperlinks referenced in his book. I plan do to so soon and would probably append my thoughts on the success of or rather response to his experiment.

Regarding the literary aspects of Love, Peace, and Happiness, as an editor I feel that this book required tighter and crispier editing. There are a few misprints and a few repetitions in text, the latter being deliberate as part of the interlinked tales, but could have been handled with more finesse. The book cover has a refreshing appeal and I could not but notice that how social media and short messaging systems have given Happiness a global symbol – the ubiquitous Smiley! As a reader and editor, I found the most beautifully written piece to be the Forward by Smriti Verma – it was genuine, warm, eloquent and a compliment to a man who had the courage to step aside, think and write.

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This blog post is a fulfillment of the preliminary requirement to submit a real love story that can be considered by Harper Collins to be published in a short story collection written entirely by fellow bloggers across India. For details see – http://www.indiblogger.in/getpublished/

New age relationships are arguably less romantic and more opportunistic. While absence made the heart fonder in love stories of yore, long-distance relationships are common today with various means of communication bridging the gap. Time and tide cannot distance the net-savvy and the jet-setting modern couple in love.

However, the more the youth of today get a chance to profess their love and stay in touch, the more farcical modern relationships has become. The greater the connectivity, the lesser the yearning of the heart, and higher the chances of falling quickly in and out of love. Where relationship status change at the click of a button, it is no surprise that young people in committed relationships, fall into the trap of infidelity and short-term commitments.

The episode that I intend to recreate as a story to submit  for the Harper Collin’s short story anthology, reflects on this complex web of long-distance relationships vis-à-vis affairs of proximity. This story is multifaceted because it also explores the trend of relationships characterized by the notions of “just friends” or non-committed relationships.

Today, the young base both long-distance and non-committed relationships on the premise of trust, truth, transparency, freedom and a no-strings attached philosophy but this foundation is flimsy. Entwined and confounded in such complex relationships, the human heart and mind that is essentially monogamous and seeks stability and security, is pushed into the labyrinth of broken hearts and wounded souls.

In this story titled, Distant Love, I am using experiences of a few people personally known to me. I have always wanted to write this story because of the compelling emotions that it carries and the practical aspects that it highlights. It is a story of two men and two women, narrated by one of the women as she perceived the episodes that unfolded in her life, and the eventual consequence of her quest for real love.

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.

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This post is inspired by the Ladakh Special of the Fear Files that was broadcast on the 19August weekend on Zee TV. Actually, inspiration is not the right word; provoked is more apt. The intent of this post is to seek opinion on the truth and fallacy of the so-called real experiences related to demonic or satanic possession.

Before I proceed with the post, I want to comment on my choice of title for this post. This title is a tribute the most original and brilliant portrayal of demonic possession on screen as seen in the movie-The Exorcist. The depiction of a possessed girl in the movie has not yet been surpassed by any other imaginative rendering of diabolic control of the human body by spirits. The Exorcist is a cult movie with a definite number one position even after so many years of being in print and on screen. No other theatrical representation has been able to rethink a reenactment of the scenes and the sounds that the book and the movie have immortalized.

For the Indian viewers, the entire experience of The Exorcist was available in their own tongue, on their TV screens, as they watched exact scenes cherry-picked and replayed in their living rooms – complete with the husky sound effects. Only the cold-wave and the glazed eye were missing, else The Exorcist has returned – Indian style.

Coming back to the original premise of this post, the episode got me thinking as to whether demonic possession is for real, or is just a mental/psychiatric disorder. To believe that spirit possession is real, we have to first believe that demons and spirits exist. And if we believe that evil exists then we must also believe in the existence of goodness. If demons can possess then so can angels; so why don’t we hear of angelic possessions. Arguments in the favor of “angelic possession” may say that while we do not have a specific terminology for possession by angels but saints and healers, philanthropists and do-gooders can be considered influenced by angels, complete with halos and auras, and godly acts. However, an article on the web says that angels cannot possess because they are not allowed to!

We, thus, remain to argue about the concept of spirit and demonic possessions. If we think logically and scientifically, we would assert that possession is only a mental and psychological disorder. Point taken. But then how do we explain the superhuman abilities of levitation, contortion, distortion, and other physical and vocal manifestations that are usually documented in the context of spirit possessions. How do we justify these superhuman abilities, if we agree that that possession is only a mental illness? I would like to know the opinion of readers of my blog and of others who may or may not have had an actual experience but may have an opinion.

With regard to The Exorcist and why we have not be able to create any other cinematographic experience with the degree of horror as generated by this movie, I am wondering that is it because the depiction was of a real and extreme episode of possession, and hence human imagination has not be able to surpass those visuals. This again is a question a worthy of debate. The only problem with debates is that we still wouldn’t know the truth!

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Her soft voice resonated in the reading room. She read passages from her first published book and concluded the session saying all of her life’s experiences were captured in those hardbound sheets. Sitting in the audience he was struck by déjà vu for realization dawned that he was the book and the book was him!

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On the Wings of a Butterfly

Tom, Dick and Harriet, stranded on an island.

Wondering how to get back to civilized land!

Tom wracks his brain, and tosses his mind.

A rescue idea he is unable to find.

Dick knows just how to paint an SOS sign,

But has neither ink nor paper to draw even a line.

Harriet is tired, and she is Oh! So scared.

Holding a sign that says let her be spared!

Each one worries about his own plight,

Ignorant about pooling the resources in sight.

And then above them hovers a little butterfly,

Thinking pitifully, why the three will not try!

Why don’t they connect, chat, and moderate.

If they could only remember how to cooperate!

The butterfly from Samyukta Media sprinkles a little dust,

That gives them the “mantra” to do as they must.

Tom, Dick and Harriet, turn to each other, and reach out,

The way they would do, if the internet was still about.

They then recall the magic of social networking,

How problems can be solved by connecting.

Thinking fast, and deliberating together.

They look beyond, above and further.

They find the perfect plan to set them free.

They make a dye from the roots of the coconut tree.

Harriet offers them the use of the peace sign.

Dick paints HELP in letters bright and fine.

And then Tom climbs up the tree so tall.

To place the sign that will save one and all!

-        for Samyukta Media. Contest Code: SM2CNov2011

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… And I will write it for you.

Everybody loves a good story, specially if it’s their own. However, few people have the time or the inclination to put their story in words. The rich and the famous employ biographers, or ghost-writers, or are covered by journalists, and the media, but the real stories from “round the corner” remain in oblivion.

I write, and I edit, and I know that wonderful stories remain untold, unknown, unsought! Not because they are not worthy of being told, but because no one had the time and resources to listen to these stories, and to put them in just the right content, intent, and format, so that the world could read them.

I offer an opportunity to all my friends, acquaintances, readers of my blog and my extended social network, to approach me with their story, in any format – words, thoughts, audio, pictures – and I will weave in the magic of just the right measure of words, imagery, and pace, and give you a piece that you will cherish.

… And this is just the beginning. When we like what we see, we will work on getting the world to read it!

Start today, and bequeath your story to posterity.

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The months of April to July 2011 have been quite interesting on the writing front. First, I ambitiously went ahead and entered an online tournament to create a multimedia rich online profile, complete with a summary, review, glossary, and author profile for one of my favorite books, on the British website – www.bookdrum.com. As the owners of Book Drum put it succinctly on their home page – “Book Drum is the perfect companion to the books we love, bringing them to life with immersive pictures, videos, maps and music.”  

It was interesting site at my home that day, when I received an email from Book Drum moderators, inviting me to take my love for reading and writing a step forward by entering the competition. I was suddenly rummaging for my favorite books through piles of toddler clothes, and heaps of toddler toys. When I couldn’t find any that I actually wanted to profile for the competition, I realized all my favorite books had been relegated into the background, since I became a mother. So, hubby was coaxed into a he-man act of opening the bed-boxes, taking out the huge cartons that contained my books, and holding back his anger while I suddenly dumped books all over the place.

I had many favorites to chose from – The Lady and the Unicorn, Fahrenheit 451, Brave New World, and 1984, but I finally settled for Siddhartha for two reasons – one that it was a slim volume, and second I wanted to showcase a work that spoke about the history and the beauty of Indian religions and culture.  

Weeks of researching, rummaging, recalling, interpreting, writing, editing, embedding, and compiling resulted in a multi-media rich profile that I believed was compelling. I could also get some of my friends to contribute their travel photographs for this writing venture. However, the sheer volume of information that I had compiled in a few weeks time was the reason that I didn’t win the tournament. As the editor wrote to me:

“Dear  Aneesha

 I have now edited your profile, and we will be publishing it and featuring it on the homepage on Monday.  Please would you have a quick look through and let me know if you spot anything out of place?

 The judges were very impressed by the sheer volume of fascinating material you assembled, but they felt that perhaps that very volume might put some readers off what is, after all, quite a simple and short book.  It’s a good point, and you might like to consider whether there are some bookmarks that are less relevant, or which could be more concise while still giving the great insight you bring.  I would also love to see a few more pictures of gorgeous Indian/Nepali scenery, costumes and temples (it’s very video-heavy at the moment).

 You should be able to edit the profile once it’s published.

 All the best, and well done on a really impressive body of work.”

Even though I couldn’t win the competition, and even hubby asked a loud, and clear, “Why” in disbelief (showing that he did care), I was happy to be able to contribute to this monunmental work of creating book companions that can help readers traverse all boundaries of age, culture, and geography. When I have some free time to spare, I would like to continue adding to this great online reading companion. Till then, for all those, who have had faith in my ability to write, this book profile of Siddhartha is dedicated to you: http://www.bookdrum.com/books/siddhartha/9788129102041/index.html.

The second writing/publishing act also took during this phase, when I was contacted via this blog, by the editor of Hinduism Today that prints about 15,000 copies of every issue, distributed in 14 countries, and is created by the monks of Kauai Aadheenam. He wanted permission to publish my blog on Khajuraho, in an edition of the Magazine, featuring UNESCO World Heritage Sites in India. Needless to say, I was more than happy to oblige, and now my article is featured in the July edition of the Magazine available online at:

 http://hinduismtoday.com/modules/smartsection/item.php?itemid=5188

These are two instances, other than of course, the short story – The Muse – being  featured in a collection of short stories by bloggers ­– The Eleven –  when having a personal blog space has led to my work getting published.

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This weekend, at the cinema hall, the murmurs and deficiency of mental engagement in the audience proved that Indian cinema-goers have little patience for metaphorical movies. Entertainment, which sometimes stoops to the crass or is downright violent, is what the public wants. Dhobi Ghat, an intense and artistic movie, is not striking a chord with the regular audience as it lacks commercial extravaganza. However, the failure of Guzaarish also proves that even large scale commercial cinema can take a rap on the knuckles, if it touches upon serious social and personal issues.

One of the criticisms that Bhansali’s larger than life project, Guzaarish, received was an unfinished climax. This highlights another aspect of our audience – we don’t want our art to be meaningful, or have something left for thought or imagination. We like happy endings, and if not happy, then spoon-fed endings. While Guzaarish leaves you with the ethical dilemma of near and dear ones forced to take euthanasia into their hands, in the face of an insensitive legal mechanism, many people failed to realize the point. Is it also because of lack of awareness, is a question that one may ask.

Dhobi Ghat dishes out a close-knit conclusion of four distinct stories. Its disengaging spirit may then be credited to the use of metaphors and more importantly to the matter-of-fact depiction of reality (sans the melodrama). Dhobi Ghat is an intricately woven and craftily treated movie – in less than two hours, the script touches all the major ingredients of a complete Mumbai experience – dirty jobs, lonely housewives, lonely artists and lonelier NRIs, drugs, high society, the underworld, a fast-paced life, Bollywood aspirations, diaspora, street life, glimpses of festivals and even the concept of a private sector sabbatical. However, it fails to impress majority of the movie buffs, and that is where its failure as a commercial flick lies.

Critics have been gentler when passing their judgment and some quarters have even given “rave reviews.” Most reviews have spoken about cinematographic excellence, and skillful characterization (all have emphasized on the fifth character, Mumbai) but most have skipped reference to the strong metaphors, and the intelligent detailing. Here are some instances of allegory that have stayed with me – Arun catching raindrops in a glass of wine (a symbol of allowing a part of nature, or as critics would love to say, a part of Mumbai, to slowly seep into himself); and a parallel drawn with Munna catching the rain drops from the dripping roof of his shanty. Another beautiful image is sketched, when Arun scrubs clean Yasmin’s silver trinkets and adorns the little pieces; it is self-abandon at its best, a delicate portrayal of how Arun wants to reach out to Yasmin – the slow transformation of Yasmin into his muse. The flashback shot of Arun touching a toe-ring also has great energy and leaves much to the viewer’s imagination. And then there is this image of Yasmin walking into the sunlight at Elephanta caves; a clever depiction of the culmination of her story. Yasmin’s video tapes are, of course, loaded with the best of the moments of revelation, innocence, and façade, and make for exhaustive study.

Interestingly, there was one conspicuous representation of the class divide that was not missed by the “murmuring audience” – when Shai’s maid brings tea for Munna in a glass tumbler. Such images are not lost on us because they are a more vivid replica of our own psyche. I can also not forget where Munna hides his money – in a cassette player – for the one with few resources every tidbit of commodity is an asset. Munna is ashamed when Shai discovers his part-time occupation as a rat-killer but remains impervious to her reference to his involvement with a married woman. It shows the stigma attached to unclean jobs, but how immoral indulgences are just another way of life. In fact, this is quite a paradox because at a certain point in the movie, Munna tells his friend that at least his occupation as a rat-killer brings in honest money. Such is the life of ordinary man – always in a fix to select between right and wrong, to find equilibrium between matters of social class and matters of the heart.

Shai is another strong character, who is also a slave to her emotions. She categorically tells her friend that though she knows what happened with Arun was just a one-night stand she has this feeling of non-fulfillment. Shai represents the educated, independent woman, who subconsciously cradles basic instincts to belong and to be cherished, as the ultimate measure of being complete as a woman. There is another tangent to Shai’s character; she probably depicts the average American (or global) tourist, who is more interested in the lesser known social and economic classes, and customs of India, than the average Indian himself.

Dhobi Ghat is a rich movie – while watching it, I felt that this would have made such an engaging book to read. Pages and pages could be filled with the metaphors and the images; the potential is endless, the audience selective, and the impact irrevocable. And for the rest of the gentry, there is always the next reality show on TV, or raunchy commercial movie at the cinema halls.

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The age of gossip is over; it’s the time of supplementing spicy bits of news with hard-hitting tangible proof. The price of an unscrupulous lifestyle can be high; for that matter the stakes can be high for the scrupulous, too. For where technology overrides common sense, and manipulative techniques reign supreme, even Angels live in dread of being dragged into a controversy. And a controversy which is not whispered in the shadows, but one that is most probably aired on National television.

“Masala News” is a heady concoction and it has invoked hideous monsters like sting operations, gossip columns, thus pushing sex and sensation to the headlines. So, be it the escapades of a romping swami, a gay professor, a top golfer, controversies surrounding a nuptial vow or the nationality of one’s spouse, or even a profitable political deal gone wrong – everything is a scandal demanding public attention.

Gossip, usually has an innocent, almost childlike appeal and conjures up images of women giggling over their knitting, or men sharing juicy news while indulging in even juicier pan at the corner pan shop. What we are talking about now is malicious and destructive information that can ruin reputation and even take lives. We have now graduated from the “harmless” gossip to outrageous voyeurism, complemented with pictures, videos, audios and large dollops of imagination. I say imagination because the authenticity of most of the information is always questionable and mere speculation ends up becoming top news. Use of technology instead of lending validity to the news, in fact increases its dubiousness because of greater scope of falsification through editing, dubbing, superimposition, and what not.

Critics supporting the cause of technology-based rendition of news can say that the use of technology has increased the instances of vice and unscrupulous behavior being caught on camera or on tape, making it almost fool-proof to nail and punish offenders. So far so good; but what about the innocent (or even not so innocent, yet not the “big bad wolf “kinds) who are being made targets for blackmail, threats, and unwarranted attention, through some juicy bit of private detail duly captured (or even fabricated to dire proportions) using technology.

It’s a time when even the most common of us live in dread of old ghosts of the pasts or new conjured up spirits. The worst part of today’s world is that while the simpletons and the honest folk are becoming more conscious and concerned about their reputation and their social actions, the unscrupulous are continuing to devise ways and means to flourish and promote their crooked schemes. Where retribution didn’t cause fear of crime, it seems as if the fear of being caught has added greater thrill to the act of committing a crime. And to complete this vicious circle is the very act of voyeurism and misuse of technology. To top it all is the loss of credulity of the media – it’s becoming difficult to discern fact from fiction and we have a modern version of the little shepherd boy who screamed “Wolf, Wolf” for fun, and risked his life when people stopped responding to his false cries for help.

We are living in difficult times and it seems the world is becoming even more fear-centric with all of us peering into each other’s glass-houses, while afraid that our own glass walls may come shattering down upon us any day!

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