whatever happened to Asha Joseph. M?

Asha Joseph M circa 1991

Have you seen her? Missing for about 20 years. This is to those who knew her a long time ago. Some were at that time, thought to be very close friends. Never to be parted from completely. What do we know when we are at that age! For that matter, at any age! The only difference between now and then would be  that back then we thought we knew everything, as we all know. Coming back to the old friends and acquaintances,  they themselves are probably busy looking for their old selves now. And that leaves no one else -- since Asha was never famous. Still, admit it. some of us did fear, albeit slightly, that Asha Joseph M may get famous some day!

So let this Asha speculate. And wonder. May be Asha Joseph. M died. Or she lives on in some faraway land, an island perhaps. Perhaps, mishaps. Or, she may be living in a convent! Or better, walking on the moors with the Bronte sisters on cold winter days, and later huddling close to the fire, busy pretending to write the next novel about doomed lovers. 

By all this I hope she doesn't think I am making fun of her. I just write this in fun. Her sense of self-importance may take it as a blow to her great dignity and noble pride!Please do not take umbrage, Asha! Your oversensitivity is notorious! After all, Asha may very well be leading a happy, contented life somewhere. If so, that is if she is completely content, then that either makes her a simple saint or a fool. To quote Edison, ( I am afraid, like those annoying quote posts on social media), "Restlessness is discontent — and discontent is the first necessity of progress. Show me a thoroughly satisfied man — and I will show you a failure.”  Well, that is neither here nor there. Quoting some famous person   is not that different from a hypocritical overzealous sanctimonious bible-thumper quoting the scriptures. Still doesn't tell me where the heck Asha Joseph. M has got to!

 This came to me suddenly - could she be languishing in some prison cell of a dictator? No, Asha's activism was never of the suffering kind. Her ideas never left her armchair set in that rarefied atmosphere of like-minded revolutionaries. Quite safe. But then she could be in that little cottage at the edge of the woods, near a stream, with a vegetable patch in the back yard,  and with a few hens, and a dog, for company. While we are at it - she could very well be in a big city in a little room overlooking a busy street, where after work, she writes stuff that no one wants to read. Why do I always picture her alone? For all I know she could be surrounded by a half a dozen children or even grandchildren! Wherever she is living, she will go on living, and then she will have to die one day.

Let's retrace her steps from the last I had seen of her. That is how a detective usually starts, I have heard.. Where did I see her last? At her wedding? Or before that in that magazine office? What did we talk about then? Did she seem like she had any solid plans as to her future? Not really, I should say. Mind you, she looked like she knew what she wanted. Not at all the clueless person that I now know her  to be . She was a dreamer all right. Lived in the world of dreams. Some vague idea about the immediate future, probably. Ah! I know! She must have got lost in her own thoughts! And is still wandering in those lanes, alternately elated and despondent, relieved and frustrated, all the while growing older and weaker. Soon she may lose her memory, thus all her thoughts, her consciousness, and fall down, never to wake up. Natural selection at work.

Another set of questions arise now. We all know Asha Joseph. M. has disappeared. Now is there foul play here? After all, I knew that she had secret plans for world domination, no one else knew, by the way. Yep, that disinterestedness, that air of nonchalance, that was all a facade. Inside she was a scheming Dr No. Total fraud (fraaad) case. as our Jagathy would say. (If there is foul play, there is every chance that she did it. no, the B did it!) Why? How? Who? Well, the good old motive and opportunity. Who stands to gain from her disappearance? Who couldn't stand her so much that they had to delete her (so to speak)? We have to be honest here - she really was the limit, sometimes. Someone had to try to stop her. Or was it a crime of passion? Jealousy? Love? Lust? Or sheer pigheadedness? Someone just did not like the way she looked? Or was she the woman who knew too much about someone or something, and had to be silenced? For instance she may have seen some crime being committed. Or, was she a victim of diabolic revenge ? For some imagined or real slight that someone endured from her? Will we ever find out?. (Did I cover all points? Now that's me being her - with her irritating habit of , that compelling need to cover all points, every eventuality.)

Anyway what do I care where Asha is! For that matter, where I am! There is no point in knowing either, seriously. Her own child would not recognize that Asha from the past. Even her mother wouldn't be able to recall that Asha. As far as I am concerned, Asha Joseph.M could live or die or vanish into thin air. Or take a running jump at herself or off a cliff, off even one of Brontes' cliffs. She is history. Or, herstory. Just covering all points again. :)

one of her permed hair phases

asha's "twin" 

asha in the "dog days"

PS: Do let me know if you happen to find her!

the Kochi effect

on my way to Kochi

Even though it had been 3 years since I'd been to India, sadly, I was not pining for it. This is coming from a typical Malayali whose eyes used to well up,  - whose heart played the drums with all its might, the moment she glimpsed  the green valleys of Kerala. After my dad was gone, I lost that longing for my homeland. I did not care what went on there, I did not care if I went there.

But this past month I had to. I was determined that the visit would be as short as possible, jet lag or not. So I went home for a week, and that included travel time. And I have to say I fell in love all over again. The day I landed I went to see one of my old professors. She is retired now and runs an old age home. She has a few smiling little nuns to help her. It is a home set on a hill in a rural area. A place which makes one stop and think. Along the way I saw the changes that have come to my state. The wider roads, the vanishing chimneys of the old brick factories, the churches, the temples... .

The next day I took the trip that really floored me, that changed the state of my mind. I went to Kochi to visit a few family members. Kochi, the Queen of the Arabian sea, known as Cochin, just a short while ago. I stopped to buy some fruits in a street. Just another old street in that old town. Narrow, crowded, bright and sunny. It was, and is still, a feeling that I can only describe as wonderful. Even magical. That a place can actually make me feel so vibrant. I have heard celebrities on the red carpet talk about the energy they could feel around them. At that moment I felt it. The energy. The life - in capital letters. It made me want to cry. As I stood there, unbelievably, I know, I could see the passing of time. I imagined the countless number of people who walked those streets, who lived like me, and died. People who were children there, and later, young men and women, going places. I belonged there. The place, the ambience, the people, the movement, the startling but sure ascent of a society, the burgeoning, electrifying breath of that land enveloped me  -- it could almost be called a mystical experience, and it was very real. This was home. This is home. A part of me that no one can take away.

Then I had the chance to talk with, and listen to someone who can only be described as the essence of Kochi, since he lives for that city, and my mind was full to the brim. With more and more room appearing, asking for more. Outwardly, I may have been the same old laidback Asha. But inside, I was like a child in wonderland, frantically, greedily, taking it all in. I heard about the gigantic strides the city was making in every field -- art, cinema, archaeology, science, technology. Kochi seemed to be the happening place. Its young and old, man and woman, are heading forward to a future of fulfilled promises, realized dreams.  Like its waterways, its skyscrapers, Kochiites are forging new ways of living, firmly based on the old. The quick, incessant exchange of ideas, of commodities, the constant movement of people to and from countries all over the world, the connections that had always gone on there -- Kochi was always globalized -- has gained new momentum now. It is a rebirth,  it is a metamorphosis. The butterfly is about to burst out.   Here is the infinite ocean of stories, the never ending, mesmerizing sagas of life and death, past and present. Here is where one could swim around, dive into, and drown in.  Like the old, empty, history-laden warehouses in that port town still said to be wafting the aromas of long gone spices,  that await for new life, and new ways of thinking, my mind seemed to be waiting. I miss it all. Terribly.And what am I doing here? I feel that  it is time to go back. There is nothing here for me that can compare to that. There is nothing here that made me feel what I felt on that morning on that street. What am I waiting for?

 a beat to dance to! :)

new Pope and thoughts of my Nazrani heritage

New Pope in the offing for the Catholics. Again, the Nazranis are forgotten. No candidate from the Syro-Malabar Church. It is fascinating to see the invisibility of these people. In spite of the fact their faith is over 2000 years old. In spite of all the earnest traditions and strict followings of the Church doctrines, more than any other Catholic group in the world. Why, the priest and nuns in my community back home wield more power -- for good or bad -- than any monarch, over their flock. All that exaltation of virginity in our women, demands of covering our heads (in shame for being born as women?) in Church, of compulsory removals of our slippers in the not very clean Church floors, of strict fastings and confessions, public humiliations and ostracizations of sinners, and manic Charismatic retreats,, making girls wear plain sarees, to college -- none of that helped, sadly.

I had written previously, that my ancestors' belief that we were high caste Brahmins converted into Christianity by St Thomas the Apostle, was erroneous. I based it solely on hearsay , and on Nehru's statement that there were no Brahmins in Kerala in 52 A.D. Now, I had thought Nehru's ulterior motive may have been a unified India, without the North-South divide. But I had also read about the Apostles' first mission of getting the news of the Messiah to those places where there were Jews already. According to historians, Jews from Kerala sent gifts to King Solomon, who, we know, ruled before the times of Jesus. Musiris, the present day Kodungallur, was a famous port from ancient times.Combined with the fact that people from the Middle East were called Mappilas in Kerala, I deduced that my ancestors were Jews, not Hindu Brahmins. Of course they must have intermingled with the other local people too. As for Nehru's motive, now I think it may not have been that benevolent. It must have been an urge to perpetuate that British-influenced myth of the superiority of the North Indian "Aryan" race.

But now, after  DNA analysis for my ancestry,  I realize that there may have been something to my ancestor's belief about their Brahmin ancestry. I should not have dismissed it so callously as due to simple vanity. I learn that there was a strong  reformist movement in Kerala --by  Buddhists and Jains. One of the factors that the newer movements opposed was the Hindu caste system. So it stands to reason that there were Brahmins in Kerala then. There are other clues too in history -- one of which is the fact that Chanakya/Kautilya, the brainy Minister of Emperor Chandragupta Maurya( Ashoka's predecessor), who ruled a large empire extending to parts of Central Asia, long before the times of Jesus, was a Brahmin  from Kollam, Kerala. It is all more complex than I thought, obviously. Thus, according to 23 and me, apparently my ancestors spread out from the Central Asian area towards eastern Europe, up to Finland. Then, surely, at some point,  some groups returned to India. Or, a group stayed put, while a part of that group migrated northward. And we are the descendants of that group, Brahmin or not, Jewish or not. More has to be known to find out exactly how and when my ancestors got to be in Kerala, (Silk Route?)incorporating all the above details, and more, I am sure, about Jewish and Hindu history.

And according to the 23andme results, I have Hindu relatives, and I share my paternal ancestry with my husband, whose gene pool, I had thought,  was very different from mine, (even though he is a Nazrani from Kerala too, he belongs to the Latin Catholic community, and we Trichur Syrian Christians think of them as different. yep! that's how focused we are on "difference"!). And now I see that he has .2% native American ancestry, and a bit of Neanderthal too! How amazing can this get!!! We are all related really. :) Along with Hindu relatives, I seem to have connections with Indians from the North and South. and I share my paternal  haplogroup with Ukkrainian, Polish, and Finnish persons! The people of the world are not as different from each other as some would want to make it.

Anyway, we Nasranis were under the Eastern Orthodox Church for a while. Then with the advent of the Portuguese to Kerala in 1498 A.D. after many splinterings, one big chunk came under the largely  white Roman Catholic Church. Now, if we have any pride left, in our heritage, our story, or just plain pride like any of those practicing Princes of the Roman Church in the West , we would start our own Church, and select our own Pope, and canonize our own saints galore. just sayin'!

how green was my valley

so -- election 2012 is over. them that dance the best win, the rest lose. or dance again.
as for me, I am still the same old flounder. like they say back home, shankaran pinnem thengil thanne.
earth-shaking events take place in the lives of some, in others' earth-shattering. and then we move on.let me leave all that to the champion dancers. people who are really good at doing things. I am just wondering at the going green phenomenon.

I was thinking of the plight of New Yorkers after the hurricane.  It was sad. Sometimes it looked like a so-called Third World scene. But then there are some countries that always look like they have been perpetually hit by natural disasters. But they are the ones who really live green. They don't even eat half the amount of food the so aware forward-thinking countries throw away in a day. They do not drive cars, nor do they have washers and dryers. Many use biofuels aka cow pie  to cook their scanty food. In fact, cooking gas is rationed. Petrol is costlier than here. God forbid, they don't use tissues. why, many, unfortunately,  use the great outdoors as their toilets. My only hope is that we will not all be asked to do that in the name of going green.


 Growing up, I remember people going to the grocer with cloth bags  folded neatly in their hands, and returning with the same bags filled with well, groceries. Sometimes I saw wet bags, leaking bags -the butcher wrapped the meat in teak leaves, not plastic or styrofoam trays, same with the fishmonger.  - I saw dirty bags, clean bags, but they were washed and used, and reused. Then came plastic bags -- all on a sudden I saw how useful they were. particularly in a place like Kerala, with its monsoons, and dust and such, these bags were a godsend. Not that they were plentily available like here -- people used and reused them again. As for paper plates - there was a time when we  ate our sadya on banana leaves. use and throw bio-degradable. well, there was discrimination there too, I got to admit. The so-called lower castes had to be greener than the rest. In the feudal system that we had, the poor workers on the farm were given their meals at the landlord's. Come lunchtime, these men and women dug a small hole in the ground, put a banana leaf in it, because that is what they used as a plate. The so-called high caste people of my country had many ingenious ways that helped their world stay green. but that is another story.

In the same vein, we can talk about claypot/earthenware cooking. I am attracted to that too like any other foodie. Rustic = romantic. Environmentally safe, healthy as opposed to the teflon coated pots and pans (and cosmetics and sofa covers and all that  and more -- teflon is God -- omnipresent). But then i remember the women back then. How much time they had to spend before the stove fanning those flames and keeping the pots and pans at a certain temperature -- manually. And the cleaning. It is good that the peasants did not have that many varieties of dishes to cook for a single meal. But again, the landlord could -- his servants or women at home had all that fun.  Women could come out of the kitchen and laundry room because of these new technologies. However it will be good if they could invent technology that addresses all these factors including protection of the environment.

Years later, I see the West touting green living, and I am reminded of those godsend plastic bags. I read  that they blame the overpopulation of countries like India for the depletion of nature's resources, and the pollution of our atmosphere. Then I come to live in the West, and I see the amount of paper and plastic and electricity we use, from the milk cartons to the mountain of tissue, from take out trays to holiday/party stuff and so on. I don't mind. In fact I am glad that there are no power cuts, that the gas for cooking appears as if from nowhere, that the lights are brighter, the machines - -esp. the washer and dryer, and the dishwasher --work faster, there is hot water all the time. I am grateful for the faster cars, the cleaner surroundings. All that paper and all that bleach and Lysol  helps. In fact i wish there was enough bleach in India to clean all the public restrooms there --and that's not too many.. But just when the third worlders are starting to hope to enjoy a little bit of comfort and light, the ones who really stripped the earth of its resources for their factories and railroads, are grandstanding. Please let those poor third worlders  enjoy their earth for a bit, then they themselves will make their world greener than the greenest. till then, let'em breathe.

Why did we make  those chemicals and plastics and cars in the first place? because of their utility. there was a need for those, as human beings went forward -- to kill germs, to transport material in an efficient and clean manner, to travel faster and farther easily etc.  They genetically modified the agricultural crops to feed many with a lot of well-preserved food. Again, in the warmer climes, were pests and water abound, countermeasures had to be found too. Little land, too many people - necessity for faster, more abundant crops. It would be good if we invented nutritious tasty items which could assuage the hunger of many with the least quantity of it. Quality vs quantity.

There are times when I long for that old village where my grandmother lived. It had quaint little streets with each little thatched or tile-roofed houses surrounded by bamboo fences covered in flowering creepers. These days they have modern concrete homes with concrete compound walls. The thatched and tiled roofs leaked and needed to be replaced time and again. The concrete ones seem to be stronger , and of course, people want to be modern -- wrongly or not. The green rice fields and coconut palm groves are disappearing. I seethe at the indiscriminate developments that crop up all over my homeland. But then I think of the people who work abroad just to make enough money to build a home of their own in their homeland. These are not rich men flaunting their riches -- well, at least the majority aren't. These are poor men and women who break their backs working in foreign, unfriendly lands, bowing to inhuman treatment, just because of a little dream in their hearts -- of building a home. I can't grudge them their small joys and wishes just so that I have this nostalgic feeling for the old ways. And when I am enjoying the comforts of the western world.

The earth needs greening. sensibly. not by depriving the great suffering millions, but slowly finding new ways for new times. ways that work. I still want clean surroundings, clean food, enough food, and faster modes of travel. What I do not want is war and disease. Now, if people and nations can focus on preventing and eradicating those, then the earth would be greener. Also, later, I hope someone does not say we have depleted the sun off all his energy, that it is raining tears of ashes on us. just saying. green is my favorite color.

Go green!

the trouble with umbrage

The recent riots in Libya by angry Muslims certainly had sad consequences. Many commentators here seemed to be puzzled by the extreme anger at such a little matter.  A perplexing conundrum. Why do these people get so exaggeratedly emotional  about their faith? What makes them go berserk at what they consider slights against their religion? Doesn't matter if the slight is imagined or not. It seems like they cannot take some constructive criticism calmly, let alone a joke. What is their problem?

Well, I have to point out that there could be any number of reasons for their taking umbrage so. For one, when the majority of a group has nothing much except their faith, when they consider it as part of their identity, their dignity, then it kind of becomes pretty important to them. And there is a long, complex history between the West and its religion, and Islam. Losses have been incurred , by one side more than the other-- of wealth, of land, of resources, and after all that, being left powerless. When insulted, they cannot wage "legitimate"wars, only self-destructive unreasonable riots that affect plenty of innocent bystanders too, fatally. But having said that, I am aware of those who exploit the faith of the faithful. Most often, the majority wouldn't even have noticed the slight, they have other things to do. But the dabblers in power will bring it to their notice, and whip them up to a frenzy, blowing things out of proportion. Another facet of that animal called "politics". So, while I can try to understand the reason for their anger, I do not condone their disproportionate reaction. After all, it was a movie, and destroying their own country for that wouldn't do anything, except get some attention, and reprisals. What I am amazed more is at the puzzlement of the  commentators at the very emotions of these people. Listening to them we would think that this was a phenomenon that is very rare, that nobody else gets riled ever, when they think that they have been subject to an indignity.

Actually,  this taking umbrage is not so unusual among cultures. The reactions vary in degree and in kind from nation to nation, community to community. Everyone has a sensitive  point which someone can poke at, knowingly or unknowingly. The use of the phrase " Third  World" by a Westerner puts my back up -- although I don't go bashing the person, I feel insulted.  But then I am always taking umbrage. (Like an umbrella?) I took umbrage at Bourdain's disdain  for my homeland's cuisine. More at the people who said mean things about India, than at him ,but it was there.  In America, try being pro-life or pro-choice. You will get a taste of that umbrage, from all sides! Why does anyone in the West try not to use the N word anymore? Because they know it is not politically correct. And if someone did, he will be made to apologize right away. But "Third World" still does not get any respect. Which is all right too, because sometimes I feel that my country doesn't deserve any respect, in spite of its ancient greatness, when I think of the way it treats its women. that goes for much of the Third World, by the way, not just India. But that doesn't mean anyone else can call my country names!

The other day I read about Romney's son being asked by a reporter about his feelings when his father was called a liar by the President, publicly. (By the way, the President didn't actually call him a liar, but said some not nice things) Anyway, the poor guy said what came to his mind , as a citizen of a free country. As a son, like any son or daughter who loved their father  would say, he said something not nice. And he also added that he wasn't going to do it, that he understood the nature of the whole process. We have to remember that he did not do anything. What did the reporter expect to hear when he or she asked that question? "Oh, yes. my dad is a liar. we all are. and we are proud of it!" ? Of course he could have walked away, saying "no comment", or better, retort " YOU are a liar!", like a teenager :) But he chose to vent his frustration, honestly. But then people took umbrage. again, understandably. This is the President of the USA that we are talking about.  We have a right to take umbrage.But we needn't have really, not very much anyway,  as he had apologized to the President.  I am relieved that the President accepted his apology. (So it seems there's some extra umbrage that was wasted there,  that can be kept on reserve when the next incident of insult occurs hehe) When someone here made fun of Gandhi, Indians took umbrage, and many here were surprised. Why are they being so sensitive? What's the big deal? Can't they take a joke? But isn't it all a bit confusing? when it comes to standards? It is as if some insults and some protests are more justifiable than others, some insults are more punishable than others. As if the self-respect of one group is more valuable than others'. "All are equal, some are more equal". Who is the arbiter of these? Respect, a little bit of that would go a long way in easing that "anxiety of influence" of civilizations, of cultures. And it goes both ways. Along with that, empathy, and moderation.

On the other hand, where do we draw the line with regards to the extent and nature of of these protests against slights, and fights for freedom and faith? For I sometimes feel that a sound thrashing by their sober fellow countrymen would be very effective against these 'fighters" who make their statements by attacking women and children, innocent people, and by destroying public property, and in its extreme, committing murders. The numerous Civil wars, the supposedly ideological political party members' fights, - all these turn so ugly and in the end, hurting and taking the lives of fellow  human beings.

The problem here is not that cozy Wodehousian umbrage-taking really. It is what these protesters do with it, and how they do it. The mad fury that is unleashed at such times. The violence, the bloodshed, most of which are on themselves. and we have to remember that sometimes it is this sensitivity and self-awareness, this taking umbrage, that leads to great revolutions and struggles for independence from oppressive regimes , be in the area of politics or of gender or of race. and sometimes issues that many of us dismiss as silly at the time, can at some point turn out to be dangerous ideas of supremacy which cause holocausts of massive proportions.In any case,there should be more peaceful ways. But then a Gandhi would have to be born. But even then in this century, will it make any change?

Let's just hope that at some point in the future, these old "macho" civilizations will reach a place where they can vent their frustrations in a well-orchestrated, well-rehearsed, well-mannered function where all are dressed in the latest designer wear, sipping champagne. They will watch comedians and talk-show hosts act out the matter and make fun of the insulter in a very funny, endearing and sometimes rebellious manner. They will laugh and roll their eyes and go watch some more Reality TV, look for sales on well-co-ordinated, or mix-and-match, seasonal room decor, and have breaded snacks. Instead of lashing out at everyone blindly, they would have learned to deal with insults,  in a very civilized manner.Oh, and apologize. just apologize -- both sides. And write in their blogs, talk to a reporter if one can, and post on facebook and tweet on twitter and so on - go viral, and go on with more important stuff. forget what that idiot of a cartoonist or movie maker did, with a religion, or what that politician said about women.

For a society to reach that level of disinterestedness, albeit not completely impartial -- which level once we all reach, the world would have truly evolved into a peaceful place, where all are equally equal -- that society has to be at a certain happy place.The larger the number of the  citizens of a nation enjoy a comparatively stress-free life, whose basic needs are met more or less, have a higher standard of living, the less trouble they get into -- usually. (curiously, and very sadly, the number of serial killers seem to increase then). As it is, only those cultures that have that sense of pride, that sense of self-confidence can be really disinterested. And that number now is very low, almost nil. (There are those that have an inflated sense of importance, their superiority -- that is troublesome. )The majority of nations do not enjoy such an elevated status in their own eyes, or in the roster of nations. This disparity appears in other areas too -- gender, class, race -- not just nations. So there will be conflict -- slights, imagined or otherwise. Another side of the Foucaultian power and resistance to power. What I called ' the anxiety of influence of civilizations". And if all the leaders can be bridgers of gaps, instead of touting the differences to feel superior, rather than as an example of complexity,  we wouldn't be talking about this.

ps: are politicians saints? do they all speak the truth all the time? do we? but we don't count. let's talk of politicians. Do they all lie? Can they afford not to? Can they afford to be saints? I think it would be kind of like the great Ashoka's embrace of Buddhism -- which is not conducive to empire-building or maintaining. If all nations were to be saintly, then maybe the saintly politician can exist. Even then there is that fascination with power. How many can resist it? With education in the right manner things can change. But won't that be indoctrination? Looking at our current political atmosphere here, it was only recently that I heard about a candidate who stood for all the right issues . The ideal candidate. But how practical would his ideals be in the real America, in the real world? How would one pigeon fare among all the cats? I have seen how hard it has been for the current President to be the "bridger of gaps" among the people of his country, among nations etc. that he promised he would be. I do not see that humility, the humaneness, and the understanding that shone like a bright hopeful beacon after a dark period of arrogant jingoism, anymore. That is  probably not because he is not idealistic or humane anymore -- but that  he cannot afford to be, if he is to survive and succeed. Priorities changed.(Aside: Are saints politicians? oh well. we all die anyway.) But I do believe that if politicians are saints, then saints are politicians. They are all saints in the strength of their convictions, in their visions, and in  their willingness to work with determination towards their goals. They are all politicians, again, for the same reasons.

Diary of a bridger of gaps

2008-05-02T06:55:06.497+05:30

Most of us are born with an ability to be bridgers of gaps. For instance when I was a toddler, I had some tricks up my sleeve to make my arguing mom and dad smile at each other again, so I am told. And those smiles made them smile at me in turn which must have been the reason I did use those tricks. Call it self preservation , or preserving the harmony of my environment to my liking.

As I grew up, my studies lead me quite naturally to this theme over and over. I quite easily connected the African American Ralph Ellison and the Indian Salman Rushdie through their books. At the end of my researches, I declared that Midnight’s Children grew up to be Invisible Men – and women.

Next, I had the chance to delve into feminist criticism and theories of narrative techniques while applying it to Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. There was a gap I was eager to bridge – the gap between the aesthetics and politics of feminism. And I did it, by adapting the theory of deconstruction to my advantage. Twisting and changing and transforming it to an extent that Derrida would squirm in his grave.

Then came the real identity crisis, as I came to live in the United States of America. All on a sudden, I was a nobody, who belonged nowhere. After a couple of courses in globalization, I found my new job in bridging. The bridging of the Hindu, the Muslim, the Parsi, the Nazrani, – into one group of Vedic people. I utilized many ideas here for my own end in the belief that end justifies the means. For instance, I took into consideration the common elements between Hinduism and Zoarashtrianism. The way the Vedic "deva" became the Zoarashtrian demon and the asura became their god. Compare Maha Asura and Ahura Mazda. And soon that lead me to a bridging of the gap between the Aryans and the Semitics.

The bridges are growing now – between the Mediterranean people and ancient Indians, between the Chinese and Indians, Africans and Indians, and Central Asians and Indians and so on.Meanwhile I did undergo a genetic test to satisfy my curiosity as to my corporeal identity. After all, we Nazranis do believe that we are descendants of Brahmins converted into Christianity by St. Thomas in 52 A.D. A beautiful myth as has been proved by many. I found that we are descendants of Jews who had settled in Kerala long before Brahmins. About the genetic test, nothing much to say except that I wasted some money in order to let someone inform me quite officially that I belong to the human race!

This need to bridge the gaps between people is of course for my own selfish reasons, as I said before. Self preservation, and a longing to preserve the harmony of my environment for myself and for future generations. So there would be no more Darfurs or Somalias or Iraqs and Kashmirs. And boys and girls will not be send away to fight windmills and allowed to die needlessly. And real bridgers of gaps like Sergio Vieira de Mello will not be sacrificed at the altar of greed and indifference.

update on the DNA test -- I got it done again recently and found that my maternal ancestor roamed around the plains of Central Asia around 60,000 years ago, and my paternal one in that area and Eastern Europe around 12,000 years ago. pretty amazing India, don't you think?


another update: the presence of Brahmins in Kerala  when St Thomas came cannot be easily dismissed as I did till now. It is possible, I realize now.

age of self-conscious living-- part 3 or 4?

My fascination with the blurring of boundaries between the real and  the unreal goes hand in hand with my fascination for the age of self-conscious living. This is the third or fourth time I am writing about it. trying to articulate the ideas in my head. Recently I read an article in Time, about Oprah. Now, I admire Oprah, and the writer of this article does too, as he writes about not Oprah in particular, but her new cable channel, OWN -- Oprah Winfrey Network. I do not know where to start! The ideas that ran in my mind as I was reading this article! virtual wild horses waiting to be caught! and tamed! familiar ideas that sounded almost crazy suddenly turned probable and real!
Oprah embodies the spirit and substance of "celebrity". As I said before, we all want to be 'celebrities" in our own ways. The writer of the above article concludes his article thus, "your best self, it turns out, is a self with a show on Oprah's network." What is your "best self'?" We have read and heard a million answers for that. A host of religions attempt to teach you that. But in the present world of democratized media, what constitutes "best self"? To me, that would be a self whose existence has been validated, is being validated. Who validates it? Myself, I could say, like a million self-help books tell me, but i would say it is others. My existence is validated by other selves, the world. And what better way than being in the media? No wonder these reality-tv shows are not going away anytime soon.
And you cannot say that celebrities are just twinkling stars that do just that -- twinkle. it takes a George Clooney to bring Sudan to your attention. It is his idea about the satellite in the sky over that troubled spot that is being put to work right now. His voice is heard, his movements are followed, and there is his power to make things happen. Like Oprah. So the age of self-conscious living , the age of TV living is here as a natural evolutionary force in our existence. I do not know the "real" Oprah. I just know the "virtual" Oprah. And this virtual Oprah changes lives. Inspires others to be life-changing celebrities.yes, your best self is your virtual self!
Now, in this age of self-conscious living, we are all characters in a virtual world. We are heroes -- tragic at times, with one great flaw, comic at other times laughing at ourselves. Movies are made of our thoughts, ideas and what we see. Great or funny music accompanies us, those same thoughts and ideas. We are significant beings whose existences are valid. Valid enough to be seen and heard on a global platform by other valid beings.We are all walking movies, at the same time, we are all moviemakers. We are the "best selves" living in a "self-conscious" world of which we are very aware, a world which has to notice us in turn.

new adventures of old asha or Omphaloskepsis

there is nothing much to do. maybe because it's all been done. either by myself, or by others. actually, much more .... and more... by others. but then that is all right, since we are one.
believe it or not, i haven't really tried to pick lint off my navel. i hear it is an art worth cultivating.
sadly, even if i wanted to try it now, it won't be feasible. there is this gooseberry- sized gauze ball stuffed tight in my navel. yep. and there is a band -aid over it. i look at it longingly. curious to see what's happening underneath . but i am not supposed to pry. obviously, privacy concerns. so, the contemplation of my navel has to be put off for now.

in any case, i have other things to do. or not do. when i get off bed, i am not allowed to sit right up. no sudden jumps and all that. but i notice that i am prone to do that -- just like my dad. but then, since i do not want a lotus, or something akin to it,  to rise out of my navel, i try to remember to roll over to my side, slowly bring my feet down, and sit up. i tell all this to my relatives who havent been very impressed with me lately, and have written me off the "going places" list. Here is my chance to grab that elusive 15 seconds of fame, among them. Of course once they hear it is laparoscopic, every one of them is pretty dismissive like seasoned surgeons. But ... but there are incisions! 4 of them! on me!! come on! thats not simple! and other stuff that was done inside me!
well, anyways,

i am asked to support my tummy when i lie down. i support it so much it hurts. someone in charge here asks me, " you always have to take that one extra step, dont you?" "Do I?" , I wonder. hmm. something else to think about. maybe i do! i think of all the friendships, and would-be friendships that I had lost on the way, probably because of this overdoing business? or, that may have happened because of other stuff, like them being mountains and i being a teeny tiny ant.ants are mighty envious of mountains, btw.

ok- back to contemplation of my navel -- i touch it, does it hurt? not really. but after a while, i feel a twinge. does it feel colder than the other areas? oh NO! it feels wet! it is infected! no, no. it is fine, really. i imagined it.

all the do's and don'ts! i am fed up. i can't run, i can't do situps or crunches, i can't climb stairs, omg! how am i going to take it!! actually it is only for a couple of days. but you don't know that! my six-pack (fl)abs is going to be a thing of the past. and my dream of world domination  in the next Olympics, or at least CWG, is out the window. and, SACRILEGE! i cant have sex for 2 weeks! for 2 whole weeks! now that is a hit on my
(r)aging libido. at the end of the said 2 weeks, watch out, you studs between 23- 29! ;) to add insult to injury,  i shouldn't get pregnant for the next 5 years! that is unthinkable! how can i bear that!!!not that i have been making babies nonstop all these years. it is the principle of the thing. (after the 5th year, it's all right, since the question doesn't arise, and the Holy Ghost has gone on to newer pastures).

as i lie there, i remember that heavenly feeling or not-feeling while i was under general anaesthesia. whoever invented that has to be hugged and kissed forever. I did not feel a thing! I do not remember a thing! for 3 hours I was totally unaware! dead to the world! to me that is unbelievable. to not worry if i talked too much, or too little, to not think , or remember, to not know that i am breathing!! 3 hours of my life -- a big mystery.
back to navel-gazing. i am not supposed to look at  my navel. that would count as an almost-crunch. i give up, i have to take a peek. just let me get this band aid off first.
:)

Age of self-conscious living - part 3

Modern human is a showman, or woman. The adoring public gives meaning to his/her existence. It is for them that we perform. The validation of our existence, as I said before. Many of us try to give the performance of our lives, be it to our immediate family and friends, or to the world in general, with some faces thrown in for that personal touch and inspiration. Some take it to the extreme of course, and some to the extent that it becomes a freak show. The age of self-conscious living. We of course announce that we do it for ourselves. But imagine if there wasn't an audience! People to applaud and envy you? I dare say it wouldn't be half as much fun. So the bigger the performance, the bigger the applause, and the bigger the satisfaction, especially when  you assume that you are the best, and that you have the most enchanted life. What a wonderful feeling it must be to think that all the rest are plodding idiots waiting to hear about your next exploit?

There is a romance and drama in being single too,. So when one is seemingly unattached one looks freer and then the more the envy and admiration. This applies more to the single man than to the woman. Because the usual thinking is that the man chooses to stay single, and the woman, because she couldn't get a man. But the majority of the spectators prefer to watch and enjoy, while trying to create a smaller scale version of the drama in their own lives. While the "free" one continues giving the show of his or her life.

While before it was just a handful who did this on a world stage, now, in this age of globalized demoracy, and explosion of media, all of us train and aspire to be heroes and heroines, in whatever way we can.  Some sign up for reality TV, others write blogs, books, everyone twitters their daily activities, as if  we make the news, or that we are news.  The age of the internet calls for new  kinds of relationships, terminologies and ideals. So, naturally, crash courses in spoken netword becomes necessary. Idioms and usages specifically aimed at different types. "Follow your heart" and "chill" are used indiscriminately. Along with pep talk phrases. In the end, when we all want to be unique and different,  what we have is a group of ageing people trying to hold on to their youth. Clones and machines. Which is fine. But for this platitude-culture to work,  we expect  a willing suspension of disbelief from everyone we meet. It is hard for us to tolerate a different point of view. We say we do as long as that willing suspension of disbelief is at work. If we don't get that, we turn mean. The philosophical and/or moralistic or amoralistic guru in us, the one with the all encompassing love and compassion for all, who loves to dish out unnecessary, unhelpful advice , which by the way, we can get anywhere else, and extend promises of "being there for you" (LOL), disappears. Spitefully we hurt the stupid who dared to think out aloud, a little differently, say, he or she did not think your last speech was that great, or found it absolutely boring,!( Or, in case of promises  -- the one who promises does not expect you take up on his or her promise literally, and expect him or her to be there. That is where the "willing suspension of disbelief" comes in handy. Imagine you assuming that the grocery clerk who asks you how are you, really cares how you are! Or that if you really tells her or him about your plight, s/he will come to help! )
So this community becomes just another insular village-community of the Middle Ages. The modern element with its really Aquarian positive, friendly, tolerant energy  remains in our imaginations. In a way, again, people use each other. Some more than others. Some in the guise of a  benign welcoming, forgiving machine-like personality, actually swallows up an unsuspecting person, wringing out all the excitement and wonder of a romance, and then spitting out  what is left over.

If this is Aquarian Age, I feel disappointed. But I am hopeful that this is just the beginning. That we human beings will evolve more and more-- to be real Aquarians.

age of self-conscious living

Watching some of the talk shows here, there was a time when I was sure I wouldn't be caught dead in those. No matter what, I wouldn't be able to appear before millions -- which included strangers, and worse, family and friends -- and air my dirty linen, so to speak. But now, I am not that sure.

Look at me airing my private thoughts and conversations online! In scraps, on say, an Orkut, myspace, or on the Wall of a facebook, in applications, in inbox messages to strangers who at the same time aren't strangers any more, in a way! I draw graffiti on walls. I do things which I haven't done in my other life. What is happening? We type up updates of our activities, our thoughts, our relationships, as if in a private journal. The one difference being that it is being read (and forgotten) by many -- strangers, friends, stranger-friends. The age of self-conscious living. We are all actors in a movie or many movies. We all want drama in our live and want to be seen and heard by many, appreciated and loved by many. Wannabe celebrities. No more happy being the voyeurs. Not at all satisfied with vicarious living. We are the center. The heroes. But we need others to validate it. Legitimiztion of our existence on this planet. If people in books and movies, be it on the big screen or on TV or on youtube, are another facet of reality, if that means they are real in the same way, then we are just another aspect of that reality or unreality. My magpie and another's Greenov are all real. Or unreal. Globalized democratization of the media surely leads to not just reality TV, but to self-conscious living, and more.



What I would also like to see is where this will lead to? Will the distinction between reality and virtual reality be blurred? What will these cyber relationships be called? I am not talking of old friends meeting online and continuing their friendships. It is important, of course, this newer convenience of keeping in touch, taking up from where they had stopped, getting a chance for some, to go back to the past and relive, rebuild or demolish old relationship structures, .... But I am interested in stangers who meet online. Some people who stick in your head or mind, somehow more than others. People who have never met each other, who will never meet. Like penpals. But different. This is more immediate, more in touch. Some do drop off on the wayside. But, say, 10 years from now -- I wonder how many of my stranger-friends will still be in my list? What will I call those friends? Of course, there is "facebook friend' or "orkut friend" or some other friend. But there are varying degrees in that too. Of the depth of my feelings for a particular person(s). Or the kind of feelings for another. How will I define that relationship? How will it evolve? Obviously, a new terminology,a new set of theories are needed.



age of self-conscious living 2



One of my all-time favorite movies is Before Sunrise. Those who have seen it will know what I mean when I say it embodies almost all those concepts of building, prolonging, maintaining the initial excitement of a relationship.

In my last note, I made some observations which I gather was not agreeable to some 'stranger-friends' whom I respect very much. Is there a certain way one is supposed to think? Is theorizing about certain subjects, taboo? The spirit of what I said was lost, I fear. Probably, my fault. But the ideas are still amorphous in my own mind. I am thinking aloud. Having fun in my own humble, idle, laid back way, respected friends. But I think I understand the reason you took umbrage or whatever it is that one takes in these occasions [that umbrage partfrom P.G.Wodehouse, btw ;)] . Recently I had an argument with a guy who is quite nice, and free in many ways, very smart and well read but has all the arrogance and rigidity of youth. He looked down upon my supepokes :( . I wanted to ask him to lighten up. That was what years ago, one of my teachers told me. And I was the clown of the classroom too! I am not as learned as my young friend. But I guess my friends here are asking me to do the same . :) But I do see a contradiction here -- I am being blamed for not enjoying life as it is, and also for wasting time in "idle wondering"!



The second part of my note was a natural extention of my appreciation for the movie, "Before Sunrise". Not necessarily, just the movie, of course. Strangers who meet online. If they meet, and enjoy life, it will be just another relationship. What we see around us everyday. It will not have the "fictional reality" that a FB stranger-friend relationship has. That is what gives it the edge. I am not saying that this is the ideal, or even that this is the best. But this could be a new form of reality, of relationship. It could be one way of making the "golden Ideal' tangible, in an intangible way.