Category: Flawsophy

  • Religiously following….

    I’ve always maintained that even religion should have a shelf life. This comes from a belief that religions were created at different times, basis the prevalent culture, accommodating the scenarios- natural and human created, and lifestyles in those times. The teachings were aimed at a more meaningful existence for fellow human beings, considering their existence then. Religion is a function of time and times.

    However, we seem to have held on to the words, more than the spirit, and thus perhaps failed to internalise the messages that are built into the texts. That could be the reason for the strife around us.

    Does a new time warrant a new religion? I don’t think so. In times when the mass shrinks and the individual and customisation rises, perhaps the opium of the masses needs to be re-looked at too.  I think spirituality and the connection to a higher force is a deeply personal thing, and should not be subject to the constraints of a religion. It should come from within rather than without, and I think such an understanding might lead to better lessons with a much longer shelf life. These lessons would make us better human beings, with a deeper understanding and compassion for everything around us, and therefore make the world a better place.

    Religion is not the path to salvation. A life lived with a better understanding of the spirit of the messages in it, could be. What say you?

    until next time, keep the faith

  • Something in common

    A few weeks back, I read a book called ‘Patna Roughcut’. Its one of those nice little books that reminded me of ‘The Wonder Years’, except that this one is non linear even in terms of narrators (not just narrative). While it is set in Patna and Delhi, I could identify a lot of the stuff – something I described in my short review as “you know you were a kid in india in the 80’s ” moments.

    A few days later, I had a conversation with someone on GTalk, about Thums Up and Frooti and all those drinks that existed in the 80’s and 90s, some of which, like Gold Spot and Sprint don’t even exist now, except in our memories. I realised that inspite of the vast distance between us, in terms of geography, we had a few culture icons that transcended it. That includes consumer items like those soft drinks, ads like Surf-Lalitaji, Lijjat Papad, Rasna, serials like Humlog, Mr.Yogi, Buniyaad, books – Amar Chitra Katha and Indrajal and many other things.(if you have been reading this blog post 2005, you might like to read that post, its one that’s very close to my heart)

    I wonder whether there’s an inverse proportion between the maturing of a country/economy and the common memory of generations. I can imagine the earliest generation of our free country, who had a bond – they’d rejoiced on Aug 15th, 1947 and then watched, or sometimes, suffered, the horrors of partition. Later generations who could associate with Jawaharlal Nehru’s socialist monuments (from dams to PSUs), the assassination of Indira Gandhi and where they were when they heard it, the triumph of a cricket world cup, and for us liberalisation and a new economy that changed everything forever.

    And while we have an SRK, a Tendulkar, a Dhoni, perhaps even a Vishwananathan Anand that binds us, in essence we’ve boiled down to Bollywood and Cricket as our icon providers. Everything else pales in comparison, and is at best, a regional influence. A single DD channel doesn’t find a place now even in our favourites, and the same goes for brands across categories. Sometimes I wonder, when the post 2000 generation is all grown up, whether they’ll only be able to relate to those whom they’ve known through some earlier association, like a school or college, and relate only because of those shared memories. Are they missing out on a large collective consciousness, one in which even this generation can relate to someone of their own age, simply because they’ve grown up in the same era? Maybe there are icons that I know nothing of, after all I belong to an earlier set. 🙂

    until next time, nostalgia trips 🙂

  • Causalities and Casualties

    Part 1

    For how are they made? By the inequality that surrounds. By their angst that accompanies our opulence. By the unfairness of it all. And when I look at my hands, I realize, I also have a hand in making them. I can’t condone, but I can’t incriminate either. There is blood on my hands too.

    Part 2

    Yes, I am desensitised. Because I exist in agonising helplessness when millions around the world die of poverty, lack of healthcare etc. Yes, it’s connected. And when those who prefer to be oblivious to this, wake up to a terrorist act and resurrect humanitarianism, just because it struck too close, I smell rot. My bad.

    Part 3

    I’m sorry. Sorry that it was your duty to become the nation’s cross-bearer. I’ll not join groups that’ll claim not to let your sacrifice go in vain. Sorry it will. We’ll get back to our lives. Sorry we’ll forget you in time. All I can do is pray, for you and those you left behind.

    until next time, topical compassion!!!!

  • Password…protected?

    I sometimes end up passively watching ‘Moment of Truth’ – passively because it plays in the background while I’m surfing on the web. In the beginning I used to have a healthy disrespect for not just those who indulged in spilling out details of their life (mostly of the skeletal variety found in cupboards) but those whose voyeuristic inclinations made them watch it intensely.

    But now, it has also made me wonder about the almost cyclical nature of transparency. Wasn’t there a state when everyone knew everything about everyone else? Or, rather, one protoplasmic entity with a single consciousness? And then it evolved slowly until everyone had secrets. And now we have people willing to reveal their secrets for money. Of course, it doesn’t take us back to the original level, but still…

    In a comparable context, sometime back, there was also an interesting discussion on twitter, on privacy issues on the web, and people getting to know passwords. Like i said there, I’d classify these password hunters into basically two types – one for whom your identity is just another information source – banking passwords, credit card details etc, this guy wouldn’t be interested in  say, your clandestine relationships; two would be the guy who knows you personally and would like to really like to find something personal about you via your virtual life.

    Do we fear the second kind more than the first kind? Because he will break the persona that we have built over the years, in front of others, show them what we are beneath the veneer, and more importantly force us to face ourselves? Isn’t that the reason we are so jittery about privacy. It can’t be just the fear that he might use our accounts for something bad. When I look at it objectively, personal accounts (mail, blogging, social networks etc) are just data- data that we might choose not to share, what we call personal data. But what exactly do we mean by personal? Isn’t it just something, that if told to someone else would shame us to some extent? Isn’t that what we are trying to protect? Or am I missing something? What really is privacy?

    I really wonder if these privacy issues will somehow (in the long run) force us to have characters that are more spotless, a sort of utopian existence, when people are so transparent to each other, that there will be no reason or room for secrets? I think it’s possible, you?

    until next time, translucent lives

  • Bom Bahia

    I recently read a book on Bombay by Pinki Virani, and have promptly classified it under my all time favourites list. The book, by sheer virtue of tone and content, appealed to me, but on a personal level, it gave me some answers on my quite recently acquired unfavourable stance on Mumbai. Since this is a subject of my chat ‘wars’ with many Mumbai friends, let me say that this is a very considered personal view, and based on subjective experiences. And like subjective experiences go, it may have led to creation or reinforcing of stereotypes that may have further colored my view of the city. So, don’t mind. 🙂

    I used to love Bombay. Right from the 2.5 days of train journey that took me there. The two months of stay there were enjoyed – Shivaji Park was a common destination across the years, the other location shifted from Anushakti Nagar (BARC Township) to Peddar Road to Malabar Hill. I still remember the second hand comics store in Anushakti nagar – Spiderman, Superman, Batman etc – the entities that captured my imagination in my school days, I have bought quite a few from there; the long walks around Shivaji Park, and the temple which gave away those white sugary balls 🙂 ; the hunt for fancy ‘name slip stickers’, which would adorn my school books and draw envious stares from my classmates in Cochin, who couldn’t get it there; the eagerly awaited trips to Akbarallys; the South indian hotel (Anand/Arya Bhavan) in Matunga whose waiters my sis later scandalised by asking for Maggi noodles, and finally, the ‘oh, its over’ feeling when we started the journey home, from VT.

    Yes, Bombay of those days remains a sweet memory. My last 2 month stay was in 1993, when it was still Bombay. Barring occasional 1-2 day trips, we stopped seeing each other since then, and somewhere down the line i started to cringe when I had to make official trips to the city. I dont know if its Mumbai that spoiled the affectionate awe that I had for Bombay, but maybe that’s just romanticism.

    Cities change, as do people. I am tolerant of pride, whether it be in people or cities, my irritation starts when pride turns to arrogance. Arrogance that brings with it an unhealthy disrespect for anything that’s not associated with the city. Yes, every city is special, but that does not mean it should take away from other cities… they are special in their own way. And that goes for people too.

    When a person like me, whose only associations with the city are from the holidays spent there, can feel a change, i can imagine, how, at least some Bombayites feel about the transformation their city has undergone. The author says a lot with just the title – ‘Once was Bombay’. I agree.

    until next time, just some city zen…. 🙂