Sunday, June 14, 2020

When Talking Ain't Easy

I see a lot of well-intentioned posts that advise people to “talk to family and friends or anyone if they are feeling low or sad.” They say, “Why can’t people talk to family and friends when they are sad?”

The thing is, they can’t talk. That is the whole thing. With depression, it is extremely difficult to speak to anyone about it. It is a greyish-green cloud of low self-worth, loneliness, helplessness and related dark components. You just want to put an end to it.

Alone In A Crowd" - Art of the Blackbird- Dana Summersill ...

Let me break this up for you. The symptoms of depression are never the same. The degrees, causes and triggers are as varied as the people suffering from depression are. Not all kinds of depression lead to suicidal thoughts. Most of the time, you feel isolated from the rest of the world. Sometimes you feel you are looking at yourself from the outside. You get to see an aerial view of yourself. You feel weird about your sadness. You are caught in a dark space between over-reaction and numbness, between over-working and idleness. You want to put an end to it. You are embarrassed about it. Now, this is what makes it extremely difficult to talk about even to the closest of your friends or siblings however patient and kind they might be. As listeners, we tend to give “solutions” or tell them “it’ll be alright”. Even if meant well, such words often seem superficial. Imagine this. You do talk to your friend, you feel better and even motivated. Cut to two-three days later. You are doing something mundane like brushing your teeth. This dark cloud suddenly seeps in from somewhere and makes you cry uncontrollably for several hours. You think of your losses and fears. In your head, you play out the conversation you had with your friend recently. You feel disappointed that nothing has changed—neither your situation nor yourself. Feelings of being betrayed (your friend said everything will be fine), having betrayed (you promised to cheer up) come rushing in, you are physically and emotionally alone, you want to put an end to it and then, snap! It is either temporarily over with a long crying session or it is permanently over. You wanted to put an end to it.

The only thing we can do is to check on our friends regularly. Gently, very subtly, make them feel good, make them feel important. Show them they are needed instead of making them feel needy. The shoulders might ache a little with all the leaning but it’s well worth the effort. Do anything but sound condescending or harsh. Most important, handhold them into seeking professional help. It is NOT easy but important. If possible, talk to the nearest, trusted person in that friend's circle. Work as a team. Don’t wait. It might be too late.



Picture Credits: curatedeclectics.com

Friday, May 01, 2020

Mind the Language

Not just during the lockdown but I've always had a challenge selecting good films for my daughter to watch on OTT platforms. Friends reading this might recognise my favourite question following a film recommendation. "Is it PG?" I keep doing extensive research on the internet. She rolls her pre-teen eyes at films that are 'twee'. I have to agree. The films are really dumbed down and painted in pastel shades. Unless it appeals to her classics are always a risk. So what does she want? She looks for depths of character, a storyline that makes her think, comedies that are not slapstick or perhaps stories that have a shade of darkness.
So what do I do? I gingerly inch towards the 16+ films with trepidation. Luckily for me, over time, I did find some fantastic films like Sudani From Nigeria (Malayalam), Jojo Rabbit (English), Yeh Ballet (Hindi), Killa (Marathi), Okja (Koren-English), Brain on Fire (English), KD Engira Karuppudurai (Tamil) and a few more.
Many of these films would be perfect for the 12-16 age group. Then why are they rated 16+? The only reason given is 'strong language'.
Take the case of the recent film that we saw and liked very much. Okja, directed by the celebrated, Bong Joon Ho. It is a heartwrenching tale of a young girl who raises a genetically modified giant pig and her relationship with the animal. It talks about emotions, animal rights and commercial interests. Just perfect for the 12-14 year group. But the dialogues which are a mix of Korean and English are laden with expletives. Totally unnecessary, out of place and cringe-worthy. The adult characters use cuss words when they are frustrated, angry and helpless.



I have seen this in regional films that are subtitled too. The cuss words are often sincerely translated! Example, Killa, one of the best films I have watched this season. Visually breathtaking and loaded with a soulful storyline and impeccable performances. Pre-teens experimenting with cuss words might sound funny for an adult but not when you are watching it with your own pre-teen.





Be it in real life, written work, song lyrics and movie dialogues, it has become commonplace to use expletives. English pop-songs even come in two versions- regular and explicit! I have always felt that using an expletive is the laziest form of self-expression. It reduces the opportunity to explore vocabulary. Especially when used in films, books and songs, I think it is a disservice to the audience because these are supposed to be written by professionals. We already know that the majority of learning happens outside classrooms. Right?


Coming back to my lament, it is sad that filmmakers are shutting out a chunk of their audience by resorting to strong language. A case of wasted opportunity. Though I don't completely agree, stories solely meant for adults can have some strong language but my problem is for cases where the story 'deserves' a larger audience. Especially these days when there is a dearth of quality content for this age group. My child and I might have missed some the gems if I was weary of the rating. So what is the way out? Since a lot of children read subtitles even in case of known languages, maybe those can be written carefully. Or the operators can mute the words without the annoying beep sound.

For now, I will choose to watch good, relevant stories ignoring the bad language. All I can do is, pre and post the film, I will take up a short moral science and English language lesson.

What do you think about this predicament? What would you do?

Monday, January 27, 2020

The Rozabal Line - Blurry

The Rozabal Line by Ashwin Sanghi. I wish this heavily researched book was non-fiction. It would have earned more credibility that way.

When I picked it from a friend's home-library, I was quite excited that this would give me an opportunity to move out of my comfort zone and I grabbed it. The first sixty-odd pages lead me into an exciting path on the thriller zone but what happens after that had my head spinning. I was thrown from AD to BC, 5 BC to 2012 so rapidly that I could hear the swish-swash sound effects given in films when they have to show a rapid scene cut. 

The line between real events and fiction is so thin that I was left feeling quite confused. And to have to keep turning back to references at the end of the book often left me tired (swish-shwash sounds again). I stopped reading the references after #18 or so. (there are a total of 209).  References work well in research material and non-fiction but not so well in fiction, especially when there are so many. It cuts down the pace of reading and the story as well. Also, the references were more from the internet than actual books. Credibility factor again.    

Truth be told, conspiracy theories are my guilty pleasure. I wolf up anything that comes on the internet from Elvis's death to Kennedy's assassination to the MH-370 disappearance. But this one somehow didn't have me hooked. Many portions seem extremely contrived. I've read The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown and found it quite intriguing and interesting. Maybe because it was all unfamiliar territory. I knew nothing of this theory at that time but The Rozabal Line seems to be following the same template, though going far, a bit too far from where TDVC left off.  Also, there is the Indian scenario, parts of which seemed implausible and convoluted (short of treading the path of some very sincere sounding Whatsapp forwards).  Politically and theologically, I wonder how it didn't cause any ripples. 

For it being fiction, there is absolutely no depth to the characters. They are just props for a larger theory. The ending seems very convenient and even preachy. 

While reading this book, Interestingly, I happened to stumble upon The Accidental Further Adventures of the Hundred-Year-Old Man by Jonas Jonasson. I grabbed it since I loved the earlier book, The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared, both parts of this story also have fact intertwined cleverly with fiction. Now, this did not confound me. I found myself laughing at the implausibility of it all.

Now, doesn't Rozabal Line also entwine fact and fiction? Though the path taken is similar, the effect is completely different. Of course, the genres are themselves different. While The Hundred-Year-Old Man is political-humour, The Rozabal Line is theological action-thriller, and a very serious one at that. Maybe it's my own knowledge (of religion) or the lack of it that makes me uncomfortable.

All that is said in The Rozabal Line is the author's own theological interpretation based on very extensive research and I completely respect him for that. I apply this to every book I read. If a writer has an idea and has the courage and means to put it in print, that by itself is an achievement. I only wish writers made better use of this privilege. 

Wednesday, January 08, 2020

Intelligent Emotions


For many years in the past, there was a great deal of importance given to cognitive intelligence. Success was directly related to one's intelligence. Be it exam scores, college admission, jobs, everyone sized you up based on how intelligent you were.

Then came the wave of Emotional Intelligence somewhere in the 1990s. Researchers suddenly (and thankfully), realised that being brainy isn't just enough. The brand new term of EQ began to be touted so much that organisations today have an EQ test before hiring people for leadership roles.

The most important component of EQ is empathy. I would rank it the most useful in not just human interaction but also solving many problems that humans have brought onto themselves and the world around them. Be it poverty, environment, education, abuse... the list can go on.

But then a very high EQ without IQ is just a lone ornate pillar without purpose.

One's heart might break to see an abandoned puppy but it takes practical thinking and intelligence to ensure the safety of the puppy. A highly emotional person is bound to suffer from heartaches and trust issues but one needs to work their way around it intelligently to help themselves. At a global level, one might understand the plight of children with no access to education but the solution lies in taking concrete action and finding out how to help them. What we need is a beautiful mesh of multiple skills and talents.


Image result for empathy and knowledge"


Empathy is the first step to problem-solving and application of knowledge is the second step. One cannot exist without the other. Highly emotional people tend to look too closely and highly intelligent people sometimes have only an aerial view. One needs to have the ability to look closely and then step back to take the right action. This is the balance all of us need to work on. The human mind is not just a 'test score'. With the right guidance, we can feel, think and create, all at the same time. Nerdy, needy, techie, touchy - instead of sweating out to remove these labels, a better thing would be to acknowledge these different facets in the human spirit. We must try to nurture these qualities, in their natural proportions, in all humans. An engineer could be highly empathetic. A caring nurse could be technically skilled. A powerlifter could master embroidery. This is as important as getting people with different kinds of intelligence to collaborate with each other.  That is when we can become useful for ourselves and for the rest of the world.

What do you think the world needs the most today - EQ or IQ?




Pictures Courtesy: 
needpix.com
www.armyupress.army.mil

Friday, June 14, 2019

A case against the cover-up

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I wore a short-top over a pair of fitting jeans this morning. Felt quite pleased. Yet, I went to the family reconfirm this. "Does the butt show?" "Does it look odd?" "Should I change?" They just answered my last question and said, "Okay, change." And change, I did, into a nice long shirt that amply covered up.

But (no pun intended) that got me thinking. Why would I want to hide it? Big butt, flat butt, whatever-butt, don't men tuck their shirts in? I have seen men carry their large bellies with pride as if it were a Football Trophy! Then why do only women have to wear 'long tops' or loose-fitting kurtas to cover up? Women have large tummies and butts either because of the zillion bodily changes or they don't exercise (for whatever reason) or because they have a desk-job that makes them sit for hours at a stretch, the reasons could be plenty. As long as there are no health reasons, why should a woman worry about those hips if she doesn't feel bad about them?

Not even thin girls are not spared the shame. "Don't wear those chiffons", they are gently reminded. I'd say, "Well, those who see me can guess that I am thin, they don't have to do a pradakshinam around me to figure that out. Do they?"

Then there are the girls and women perpetually struggling to cover up not just what's inside their hearts but outside as well. I didn't invite the twins, they were born with me and grew up with me. There is nothing I can do about them. And I am not ashamed of them. But you say, "I don't care. Cover Up." There is already a kurta, and one goes and layers it with a stole or dupatta, as if the top by itself weren't enough. It's okay for a woman to carry pots of water double her weight at wee hours in the morning but it's so wrong not to cover up her nightie with a dupatta or a towel!  Don't you see the irony? The towel is screaming for attention by it being so grossly incongruous and you are telling people, "don't just look THERE".

Mind you, I am not overlooking: 1. Appropriateness  2. Enhancing your looks for your own pleasure  3. Comfort. 4. Health and hygiene. I have no grouse against these aspects.

  • If there is a logical dress-code at workplaces, stick by it (and wait for the weekend).
  • If YOU think something enhances your look, makes you feel better, wear it. A little overcoat or an oversized T-shirt. Not because it is an "accepted norm" (Old style or new style, it is MY style).
  • If wearing something makes you feel uncomfortable, don't wear it. And if wearing something makes you feel comfortable, JUST GO FOR IT. (Skinny thighs or fat thighs, they are MY thighs!)
  • If an outfit helps you express your mood and your personality, flaunt it. (Nerdy sometimes, diva sometimes. Myself all the time.)
Don't let anyone say, the outfit makes you look too fat/too thin/too short/too tall. Whose aesthetics are you trying to please? Tell them, "Excuse me, I'm not an art gallery to please your aesthetics, thank you." What is wrong with being tall or short? That's the way I am born. I always wear sarees with large borders though I have been told time and again that they make me look shorter. But I love those large borders. There is no hope for me to grow any taller. So those large borders that I love so much, are they out of my league at all? Like, forever? And I very rarely wear high-heels. Because I know, the person who advises me to is never going to massage my feet and back at the end of the day.


I know I'm rambling. But people, don't be harsh on yourself. We, as humans rarely feel good about ourselves. We are somehow conditioned to think that way. Amidst all that is beyond our control, our thoughts about our looks are the only things we can control. Let's wear what makes us happy. Let's wear what makes us feel good about ourselves. Shed those kilos if YOU want to (or if the doctor has told you to). Hide the paunch if it makes YOU uncomfortable. Fushcia pinks, greys or beiges - let YOUR moods decide the colour.

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PC: https://images.app.goo.gl/ypdvrduiRoApJ3uG7
https://images.app.goo.gl/ecxdHr22RgypjzDf9



Sunday, June 09, 2019

A Suitable Boy: Just Perfect for Me



Picked up this giant of a book on a whim without pausing to think how I’d finish reading it. After a six-month struggle, I finally managed to finish it and I’m glad. (Much to the chagrin of my family, lugged it to every trip I took this year.)
On the face of it, The Suitable Boy is a story about a girl looking for a… well, suitable boy. Lata belongs to a simple but well-read family of refined tastes. The family consists of a doting but overbearing mother, a sweet sister and two brothers who are like chalk and cheese.

Set in the year 1951-1952, the book is much, much more than Lata’s quest. There are many absorbing subplots involving the girl, Lata’s extended family, including her siblings, their in-laws and their families. There are stories of politics, of music, of business and of relationships. Apart from music, I found the political references very interesting because I’ve never paid much attention to the political history of India. Seth has explored every possible kind of relationship with great understanding and gentleness, be it friends, lovers, elderly couples, young couples or colleagues.

Lata’s mother is a carbon copy of a lady I knew—an overly sentimental type who loved sending and receiving long letters and greeting cards. Someone who could hurt or be pleased with the smallest of things.
Meenakshi’s (Lata’s sister-in-law) quirky family made me happy and kept me eagerly looking forward to chapters about them.
I personally loved the plot involving Maan Kapoor (Lata’s brother-in-law’s brother). My heart went out to him and his family. Having been accustomed to romantic twists of plot, I kept hoping for favourable twists in Maan’s life. I cared much for his father, Mahesh Kapoor too. (I imagined Adil Hussain playing this role in a film/web series.)

Having lived with and invested so much in the characters, and being a die-hard romantic, I must say I'm a tad disappointed with the ending but then, every writer owns his story and has a right to end it to match the philosophy of that story.

Vikram Seth being what he is, throws the most unexpected turns at you. “Sensitive people are usually insensitive” goes a telling line in the book. More than the plot and storyline, Seth’s language and style had me floored. Like I have said in an earlier post, he has a gift of infusing poetry into his prose. And at the same time, he can convey the strongest of emotions in the simplest of ways.
Two old (and elderly) friends talking to each other:
“So, you’ll come for lunch tomorrow?”
“Yes, yes. What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion. Just do me the favour of sitting silently through the meal and hearing me complain about how much better things were in the old days.”
“All right.”

Seth knows exactly what words to use at any given time. For learners like me, his style is infused with numerous examples of 'show, don’t tell'.
Sample this: The rock-like delicacies were lurking in the other room. I will say no further.
And what caught me by surprise is his amazing sense of humour. He has used humour and wit so generously in this book that I could go on citing examples. If you are planning to read the book, look out for the incident at the bus-stop involving two wailing ladies. And then there’s the incident of a villainous but distraught Prof Mishra. He is feigning a conversation with a doctor on the phone but is actually getting the election results. Mishra asks the person on the phone, “So where can I meet you?” The person on the other end of the phone simply says, “In the casualty ward.” Oh, and of course there are the 'Kakoli-couplets' strewn amply to lighten the mood.

Seth draws up detailed character portraits of almost every character, significant or otherwise. Sometimes, he hands out every micro-thought of a character, making you awe at his insight into people’s psyche. Mr Seth appears to be one dangerous man to meet!

Another thing to look out for is the vivid, descriptive passages – ever so colourful and never boring, be it the Pul Mela or the shoe-factory episode. He writes as if he’s been there. Who knows? He might have even been there. (I've read several anecdotes about the research he does for his stories).
This book has been panned for rambling on with just a few pages of the main plot. I choose to look at it this way. It would be extremely limiting to look at the title just from the angle of Lata’s matrimonial dilemma. We have a young India looking for a suitable boy as a leader. We have the Chatterji family looking for a suitable boy to take on the reins. We have the University looking for a suitable boy to head its English Department and so on. I haven’t yet read any analysis of this book but I am sure all that research and thinking that Vikram Seth has put in is not in vain. Every anecdote has meaning and purpose and it is for us to find them.

If you have been wanting to read this book, I’d say, just take a deep breath and dive in. You are sure to find a lot of gems out there. Just have a lot of patience. I nodded in agreement when the character of Amit Chatterji says:
“But I too hate long books: the better, the worse. If they're bad they merely make me pant with the effort of holding them up for a few minutes. But if they're good, I turn into a social moron for days, refusing to go out of my room, scowling and growling at interruptions, ignoring weddings and funerals, and making enemies out of friends.”

PS: I read somewhere that Mira Nair will be making a web series of this book. I'm excited.
A line from the book

Monday, October 15, 2018

'96: Heart-wrenching and Heartwarming All At Once - My Feelings



Certain books and films make you feel very strongly for several days at a stretch. While you mull over them, a lot of thoughts keep popping up. You can't rest until you have sorted all those thoughts neatly and put them down. I have never written any review two parts, But there is a lot to say, about '96. Putting them all together would not only make it a bunch of disjointed thoughts but also a long boring read. So, I have split my observations about the film into two parts. 'Facts' and 'Feelings'. 'Facts' is about the technical aspects, who did what, how I liked it and so on. 'Feelings' is about well, just my feelings. Here are my 'Feelings'. 
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*Spoliers galore*

Feelings:

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Ram, a travel photographer believes that the only place where one can freeze time is in a photograph. That's how he lives too. In an island of memories. But he is no Devdas. He just goes about doing the thing he loves to do. Freezing moments. He is happy to visit his hometown but does not want to stop by. He might have to make small talk with people there, you see. His eyes sparkle when he spots his school. He impulsively stops by and doesn't even mind catching up with the school watchman  (played by a darling Janakaraj). In the beginning, Ram is all sprightly, exploring every corner of the school with excitement. I squealed in delight when he brushes off the chalk-dust from the frame of a blackboard with a finger. Oh? So it wasn't just me who loved to do that! Watch the way he drags the desk closer to him when he sits on the first bench in the classroom. But he becomes broody and nostalgic by the end of the visit and this culminates in a longing for a reunion. Old friends meet. Old flames get reignited, not with the intensity of a fire but with the gentleness of moonlight. Quite naturally now, the friends get worried. It is the same gang that prodded the shy Ram in school (quite naturally for that time).

Ram and Janu take off from the word 'go' as if the past 22 years were just a fluid dream. As awkward as they were in Class 10, yet, as much in love, or even more, perhaps. The heart has this capacity to nurture some memories with each pump. The memories then grow and grow to become larger than the actual events. Memories are like an arm that grows with you. Mind you, this is different from what sceptics brush off as 'illusion'.  Forget lovers. Take childhood friends, for instance. There might not be a thing common between the two of them anymore but they are still friends. That's because they are still the same people after all. Like I have always believed, where ever life takes you, the core of the person will never change. It is only the circumstances that make you react differently.


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So Ram has now grown to be a bearded hulk, but he is still shy or shall I say 'faint-hearted'? (Miss the movie, you miss the pun.). He generally speaks very little but becomes a motormouth when he is excited about something. It is Ram, the more sentimental of the two, who lightens the atmosphere every time there is a tricky moment. There is still a world of innocence in his thoughts and actions, with or without the beard. And Vijay Sethupathi shows it so beautifully.


Janu is still the bolder and the more outspoken one of the two. Makes Ramu (and even me) jump out of the seat when she offers her plate to him. She sometimes pretends to have moved on. She tries to put on a 'chilled out' facade. She asks Ram blatantly personal questions which Ram finds too personal even for a lover to ask. She bawls like a baby when she knows the truth about the things he did. But soon collects herself. When he asks her if she is happy, she says life is peaceful. Now does that answer the question? We don't know.

In fits and starts, Ram and Janu speak about the lost moments. Dream up the what-ifs. Someone said they don't ask each other much about their present. I say, they won't. They don't want to know. "Here I am, unwilling to fill the space that has a beautiful memory. Why would I want to know about your daily routine with your child and husband?" No thanks, too painful.

 As the evening progresses, they get completely comfortable with each other. He loosens up. You know it from his voice. You feel the love in every little action - every flick of the eye, every little smile, every question and every answer. She breaks her twenty-year-old resolve and sings Yamunai Aatriley (a non-S Janaki song). This simple little action perhaps shows a huge change within. "Maatrangal Vidai, Maatrangeley Vinaa." (That's, by the way, one of the most impressive opening lines I've seen in a film recently. Listen to the poem recited by Nasser, it's beautiful).


Janu worries about Ram's loneliness. Her repeated talk of his marriage seemed a little annoying and made me wonder if she is trying to fix her own guilt. But I soon understood that it was out of genuine concern. When you can't take away your only possession, you want to at least place it in safe hands. Like Ram's student says, he needs to be taken good care of. But how the hell is she supposed to do it? That angst is so well brought out in the final airport scene. And the way she holds his face at that point...is that her closure? Oh the pain!

There is constant movement throughout the film (they are in a car, on a train, they walk) hinting at momentum, but when it is time to fly, his condition remains status quo, in spite of holding a valid ticket. There is a pain of losing yet there is a comfort of gaining something they never had. Janu's life might or might not be the same again. But for Ram, things are not going to change much. Only, he now has another piece of memory to stow away in the safety of his moulded-plastic suitcase with a secret number lock.

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You can read Facts here.

(Pic courtesy: The Indian Express; Silverscreen.in)


Surgical Strike

"Just imagine", they said, "how free you are going to be." Everybody pep-talked me. "You are not sick. You are only...