To God or Not to God

I know most of us have been there - at some point - where we wonder at the reality of reality. Is the world real? Am I real? What are we doing here? Where is the end? The beginning? And should we believe in a Creator/God? Should we follow a religion/"Godding" (my coinage)? Hence, to God, or not to God.

I think. Therefore I am. But my question is does S/HE/IT (IT could stand for internet too :))  think? If S/HE/IT thought, and given that the S/HE/IT is an all powerful magician, (omg! I just looked at S/HE/IT, and realize another way of reading it!) , and all good, the said God can make it all right in the world for every one of us! So how come God doesn't do that? Oh, free will. Whose, I wonder! God's, of course. But can't God think? Can God think? Back to the circle.  If God doesn't think, God doesn't exist. If God thinks, God exists. If God chooses not to think, which explains the misery of mankind, then do we need a thoughtless God like that?

If free will is the basis of faith in God, then shouldn't I be  my own God? As long as I don't act God to others that should be ok?

In any case, "Godding" or religion is a club. Its members have the ability to network - to make lucrative or other social connections. Mutual back scratching and/or back -stabbing. A major area of power plays, and intrigues, and abuse of powers. One common goal seems to be about control over the female sex. The religions differ only in degrees in this area. Obviously the clubs do some good too, esp in the charity field, but they  always have  their own survival and propaganda as their main agenda. Along with other vested interests. These clubs are not that different from nations, Specifically the colonizing ones. With all its ramifications.

Fall again, and a paean to Champaign

Did I say I love fall? Sure, I did! what's not to love about this enchanting drama queen! No tantrums, just a dazzling display from a colorful diva! Her flying, flitting shining leaves shake as she twirls in her jewel toned sequin-layered skirt, not caring if some frills and sequins fall, at times with a dramatic sigh. There are the heaps of fallen leaves, like multi-colored candy wrappers, like crunchy pappadams, or crab rangoons.  and in between there are a few green leaved trees - stubbornly resisting- to- turn old timers -- and then  those wall flower types who wish they would turn like the others,( I am sure!) Every year, fall, to me, is a carnival.

This year's fall is extra special. I am in a new city. So it's a city Fall. And neither the city nor the season have disappointed me yet. Champaign is made for this season! Its paved streets dotted with old world lamps  are a good setting for these painted ladies and gents to make a spectacle of themselves! This city has parks ( I haven't seen this many squirrels anywhere!) on most streets, sidewalks in all parts, it has little lakes that soothe you, and old homes that evoke old memories. The little town is eminently walkable and the little shops and cafes, endearing. I loved its little Oktoberfest, with its Apple Saison beer that tasted like Fall, as much as like apple pie. And the farmer's market that introduced me to Autumn Berry jams and relishes that reminded me of those good old days back home, back when I was a child.

 And then there is the University with its libraries and stadiums and theaters. I feel I have come off my (self-imposed, I guess) exile into a new world!
As I walk beneath these trees flamboyant in their drool-worthy candy leaves, as usual, I long to absorb it all. As the cozy cool wind and the equally cozy but warm sun hit the leaves, and then touch me, I am so happy that I can almost taste the sensual feast!

Death and lemonade: Leaves of Grass (2010)

As often with me, I have to start with an apology -- here goes - please do not think I have too high an opinion of myself. That I consider myself to be up there with highly talented, successful people. But whenever I see a Woody Allen movie, I feel that movie was something that I would write. Well, I thought the same thing when I saw "Leaves of Grass" by Tim Blake Nelson. He wrote and directed, and even acts in the movie. Why do I feel this? There is something familiar in the themes, in the way they unfold. You may say it is the universality of the themes, the characters, Maybe, but that would be enough to appreciate those movies. It is more than that in the sense that there is an underlying thread of exposing/teaching/information-dissemination in most of such movies. Just like I would do, like I have done in my novel. Detractors can call it preaching or propagandist. But such a movie, that with a message or messages, is an example for  another version of art for social change, according to me.

This is my perspective of Tim Blake Nelson's movie. When I watched it, at first I was tempted to dismiss it as superficially intellectual and artificially attractive or vice versa -- a phrase I remember from my past :) Look at the academic shenanigans at that Ivy League University on the East coast. One of the protagonists,  portrayed wonderfully by Edward Norton, is a teacher of Philosophy. Since it is not a philosophic treatise, but a movie about many other things too, it struck me as superficial, simplistic, shallow etc. Then there is that stock female character - intelligent, attractive, with a surprising quality, sometimes she appears as the prostitute with a heart of gold, but always as the one who has all the answers. (ya, right!) Here we have the village poet beauty who is an expert at "noodling" too! And she is like Socrates to our poor philosopher who by sheer grit and focus achieved his dream. Very mean of her, I thought. And I wished that he would influence her too - make it more of a mutual affair. Let's see if the sagely young woman will feel the same in say, 5 years! Will it be easy then to make that change, for this time, she won't be the same, and time will be against her. But then we all got through such choices, and ideas, and changes, and then we all die - that is life!

That takes me to my next change of mind, regarding the movie - superficial, artificial - that is what the academic world really is. After all those discussions about Foucault and Derrida and Lacan, (genuflect here- as an aside, we in India tend to look at any written word as sublime, and if especially it is by a foreigner, we treat it like the scriptures. Same with movie stars, rock stars, political/religious leaders, - we are in awe of them, guess we still haven't lost that naive wonder and admiration for success and fame -  here there is an irreverence, and more of an envy towards everyone and everything, except, maybe national security and full body scanners in airports) and aesthetics and politics, what did we achieve? What did I achieve? Other than long papers and dissertations that are buried under layers of dust in some corner of a room. Papers that are really papers on other papers. Mishmash, rehash, analyses that in the final analysis may be really splitting hairs- and that is how the other (anti)hero, who, fascinatingly, is the twin of our philosopher, also ably portrayed by Norton, describes it. But that description also is not new, but that doesn't make it any less real. He is the alter ego of the protagonist - literally, and figuratively.

So what does this movie teach? Philosophy, mainly. Practical philosophy. Philosophy democratized. Practical aesthetics. For instance, all those deaths in the end happen in the "idyllic" ambition-less countryside, where the characters seem to go with the flow of Nature, rather poetically. And there is ambition and dream here too - the brother wants to sell his scientifically advanced drug business in order to start a normal family life. So death - the deaths in the movie did not really make me sad. The build up of the story till then prepared me for it, thus reinforcing the inevitability of an end. It is as if I was ready to die, or to let them go! Not out of disappointment or depression, but after a sense of completion, satiety, catharsis.  And then that awareness of  the futility of it all. No matter what one's reality is, and here we have parallel realities of twin brothers - one whose life has the order and the beauty of a Zen garden, outwardly anyway, and the other, whose life looks like a riotous cottage garden filled with wild flowers and vines, with a rocky brook running alongside. Again, I am reminded of those stereotypes - say in a Hallmark movie- the busy city/career girl or man vs the free-flowing, nature-loving warm country girl/guy. They all always end up in the country. But here, the writer-director makes it more realistic -with  death - many deaths - in the country, and then with a pitcher of cool lemonade in the end. That is what happens in real life, isn't it? People die, we move on.  There are little cosy comforts at the end of a long, hot day. We just aren't aware of that fact of death all the time, that's all.

So - what else does the movie teach? We are aware of the writer-director's mind working  in many of the characters - we learn that a god-fearing Jew can be a drug dealer, that a pothead or a redneck can be smart, I liked it all, even as I felt they were contrived. Maybe I prefer it that way - the movie is a construct, after all. Just like the sublime brother-crude brother juxtaposition. I think I did not mind all that  in the end because we see that they are not all that different in the end. Those stereotypes are dismantled.  I have done all this in my writing - which doesn't make it right, but it is done with a purpose - to make the viewers/readers think, look at the world from a different angle. And that in my book is art for social change. And that is where all those seeming useless discussions in the field of Humanities are there for.

At the end of the movie, I was not judging one way of life against the other. I realize that they are all equally good or bad. The lives, the choices. But I wished that we all could live different lives at the same time! Not just one other life where someone from the past or the future comes and tells me my past or future, like, say, Dr Who. I don't mind it, but I want to be that person who can travel through time, live many lives, in many places.  Everyone has to be that person. Now that would be flowing, real freedom, or, total anarchy. Who knows! As it is we have a couple of choices - wine or beer? death or lemonade? Or both, and all.  :)

quirks of the mind- Next (2007)

That's it! I have decided - I am not a  sophisticated movie connoisseur. And I am never going to be one. But clearly, I am an incurable romantic - even now! (bah! humbug!) The other day I saw the 2007 movie Next -- starring Nicolas Cage and Jessica Biel, Julianne Moore etc. To put it simply, I liked it. I am no Nicolas Cage fan, but somehow I liked him in this one. I liked the story, I liked the main characters, I liked the setting - I liked it all once I accepted the basic kind of superpower that Cage's character possesses. Apparently, he can see two minutes - just 2 minutes - into the future. Except in the case of this girl who keeps cropping up in his visions. The romantic in me loved that age old concept of true love, the existence of the  one person that you are meant to be with. Add to that, a man,  a hero with the power to be aware of this preordained special person, and is sure of what he wants, and is not afraid to go for it! The result, "And they lived happily ever after", as we romantics hope for, even though at this point in my life, "forever" seems kind of daunting, as in YIKES!

However this is the same movie that I have heard being called crummy. I find that Cage and Biel were nominated for worst actor, worst actress  awards. And I liked their acting! I did not expect to, actually I did not think I would watch the whole movie, but I did. Can someone feel all warm and cozy just by looking at people wearing warm and cozy earth tones? Or seeing them against the backdrop of sun-kissed mountains? I have to think that that happened in my case. I loved the amber tones of the people and the places. The golden honey highlights in Jessica Biel's hair, on her simple burnt sienna cotton dress, on her glowing skin, on Nicolas Cage's tan/mustard yellow jacket, and on the gold and caramel and copper-hued rock formations at once alive with all that rich glorious light and redolent of many an ancient story. I am sure all that, including that soothing rain that danced around, enveloped the pair, and the intermittent cool blues that broke the pattern of the golden rust colors, played a part in stopping me from switching channels.

I know many would see the special power of the hero as a  simple crude mind gimmick of altering reality. But again, I did not mind it at all! :) Not surprising. I usually like such ways of defeating time,  and space, however simplistic. I even like that twist to the tale in the end. The movie is loosely - very loosely, I hear -- based on a science fiction piece of the fifties. That story of mutants has been humanized here, I guess. And if the fact that I like the result makes me a pleb, so be it. Let me hasten to add that the same goes for my liking of that Jennifer Lopez-Ralph Fiennes movie, Maid in Manhattan. I have heard many criticize the story, Lopez's acting - but I loved it! I think she was good in it. ( I do like all of her movies, by the way). And Ralph Fiennes! He can do no wrong in movies, as far as I am concerned. But then, that's me! What do I know?

my Vetaal

King Vikramaditya and the Vethaal

They say everyone has their own baggage that they carry around. Most of the time, like any baggage, it weighs you down, will even leave you paralyzed. Still, there must be some good kind of baggage too. There are some kinds that never gets lost, or that we can never totally get rid of. We may put it down for a while, but soon like long lost friends or unwanted guests show up at inopportune times. Or worse, like that wily devil or vampire or ghost, Vetaal/Bethal/Vethaalam of the Vikramaditya stories, climb onto our shoulders and refuse to let go. A dead weight that  manages to drag one down, fill us with dread and despair. A point comes when we just want to get rid of the burden. Out with the bad, and whatever outdated, or spoiled stuff is  in there, which may have been good once, for that time. The only way out then is to listen to that Bethal and answer its questions, which may or may not help me in the end.

Mine is a peculiar kind of baggage. Nothing special, but then I guess everyone's baggage must be special to them. When people talk of baggage, I always hear of doing the wrong things in the past, doing a lot of wrong things, having a racy youth, having lost a lot of valuable things, say, in the area of relationships. When I say "wrong" I do not mean to say that they were all wrong in the moral sense. They may have been or not, but I think that those become baggage when the individual looks back with regret and considers them to have been the wrong choice, the wrong path to take.

In any case,the peculiarity of  my baggage is that it is empty. My Vetaal is unreal. When I look into it, there is nothing in there! My past and present are ruled by inaction. No racy past - to sum it up. No  addictions to recover from, or to not recover from,  not even one shade of grey to feel guilty or proud of, or to cherish - - nothing that I can thrash around and about. Painfully shy, and  submitting to the Nazrani conditioning, rebelliously at times, I avoided all excitement. Except for the grand speeches and  funny gestures made within that safe circle of family and friends. I did manage to get that reputation of willfulness, stubbornness, and sheer muleheadedness from most of them, though. But many did not care about the extent to which I succumbed to tradition in the end. My perfectionism (quite personal) and that other personal code of honor-  of duty, responsibility and loyalty took care of that. So now this empty bag of mine weighs a ton. And it has been asking me these questions.

Did I make the wrong choices? Take the wrong path? Still no clear answer. But the answer that comes up right now is that maybe not. At those points in time, those were the only ones to take. Should I be happy about that? Not necessarily, and not necessarily should I be unhappy either. Things are as they are. Hope that Vetaal is satisfied, at least for now.

India's Daughter

Village Belle by Raja Ravi Varma 

I watched the documentary, India's Daughter today. I couldn't bear to listen to most of the men in there, including. and especially, the literate lawyers -hard  to watch the whole documentary. For a while, I was at a loss for words. Disturbing, heartwrenching, and terribly real. The mindset of the majority of citizens of a democratic nation, that prides itself on its culture! I was lamenting about a few hate mails I received after a story of mine was published a long time ago. Why am I even surprised? I just saw and listened to a few representatives of the educated males in our capital city of New Delhi, in modern day India. But watching this should be mandatory in India.By the way, to the lawyers- even a girl going out with her own father or brother is not left alone by anti-social elements like these.  But then I am sure people like these lawyers and many religious persons still would not get the message. That girls shouldn't walk outside their homes at all,  would be the lesson that  they would want us to take away from this. Better, let them all kill themselves! Which they do do to the unborn female child.
Even elderly nuns in convents are not safe, when it comes to insecure men wanting to reinforce their sense of power. News - Elderly Indian nun raped . I cannot forget what those misguided, cruel, pathetic, stupid  men did to Jyoti. I cannot forget her dreams, her hopes. Her mother's eyes. And this will and should haunt us forever.  I am so ashamed of my country, of its so-called "tradition" and "culture". 

It was hard to see even the hope of the protesters, for change, for a better tomorrow. . This is one time when I value the merits of a brutal, long drawn out war that will affect the whole of India, but which took the men out of India, into other countries.  That is the one long term change that came out of the world wars, in the West.  Women had to take over. They came into their own, in spite of the loss of lives. The sacrifice had an unforeseen effect of women's liberation.  Of course I do not want needless deaths of men.  or women, which is what is happening now. If we could learn something from history, without bloodshed and killings, that is it. Education is the answer. How - that is the question. How to educate? What modes to use? Through travel, and exposure to other cultures? Through classes? Movies? TV? As it is, las I mentioned before.  even if many of them saw this movie, I know what many Indians -men and women - would say , shaking their heads - the girl shouldn't have gone out at night. They just wouldn't get the message, or pretend not to get it. And when  they do that, they are denying the humanity of their daughters and sons. Forgetting the real meaning of civilization.

But why am I racking my brains as to how to stop men from behaving inhumanly? Strict enforcement of a just law is all that is needed. Where the responsibility to not to commit evil deeds is on the individual. For instance, disbar and dismiss those lawyers, politicians, policemen etc  who nurture such inhuman notions about women. If they still do not understand, throw them in the jail with the other rapists. After all, we did manage to eradicate caste system, at least in certain parts of India. According to that old tradition, the lower caste women were considered untouchable, but at the same time, playthings for the high caste. Much like the other tradition of slavery, and the feudal system. Strict enforcement of the law did help with those. But then gender inequality is of benefit to all men - regardless of class or race. So the number of people who will feel cheated out of their "rights" is higher. And they won't let go off their "rights" that easily. So the struggle becomes harder.

For Catholics, in the Ten Commandments - thou shalt not kill does not put the onus on the victim, but on the perpetrator. But in the case of rape, the law in India seem to think that the victim is the culprit. Once that attitude changes, things will fall in place rather nicely. The eleventh commandment should be "thou shalt not rape". 

I found this on the internet. Seemed very helpful.

11. When you see a woman walking with a man, do not rape her.
12. When you see a woman walking with a child, do not rape her.
13. When you see a woman walking with another woman, do not rape her.
14. If you feel you are a thorn, and the woman is a flower, hit your head, repeatedly, on a stone or brick wall, whatever is convenient, and knock yourself out.
15.Use the buddy system here too if you fail to remember the above. Ask a trusted friend to bring a rock or brick to knock you out.

Still, I am hopeful for India's men and women. Looking at the thousands of girls and women protesting in the streets. Their courage, their hope, and their strength. I see the change right there. This would not be seen thirty years ago. These are the women of my generation, and their daughters. I can only bow my head before them. I am so proud of them, of how far we have come. I am ashamed of myself because I ran away from my country. It was escapist. 
The struggle has just begun, and it should include all humane beings - women and men. Because just like that assumption that women are basically "sex" (as in the words of that lawyer) and so need to be controlled, while in the same breath he said that women are "flowers" to be protected - that is what we have to face. Who on earth can live according to that contradictory idea? And the other assumption that all men are savage beings who are less than human who have no control over their own minds, and no intelligence to take responsibilty for their own actions,  or do not have the least bit of sensitivity to think of a girl or woman as a human being. That is degrading our own fathers, brothers, and sons.