My most beautiful thing

 

A moment in time

Savoured and held as truly mine

When a heart was given

In exchange for another, without questions

When love was like never before

Not ever since.

 

A moment borne away by laden clouds

Sped along by winds

Rained joyfully

Upon the insidiously winding river

Touched by the lone-witness, the tree

And swiftly carried by currents to the limitless sea

 

A moment that in the relentless sun

Rose again as unsullied vapour

Condensed by cool moonbeams on a full moon night

Found on  petals and leaf tips at dawn

Dew drops that shine like tear drops,

My most beautiful thing……….

- Shail Mohan (April 2012)

Today I’m taking part in the My Most Beautiful Thing Blogsplash to celebrate beautiful things – inspired by Fiona Robyn’s new novel, The Most Beautiful Thing. Bloggers from all over the world are taking part and writing or posting pictures of their most beautiful things today. Find out more here and see everyone else’s blog posts here

A message

On Tuesday the 24th of April, I’m taking part in a Blogsplash to celebrate beautiful things, inspired by Fiona Robyn’s new novel, ‘The Most Beautiful Thing‘.

People all over the world will be blogging, tweeting & writing about their own most beautiful thing. You could also be one of them. Care to join?

You could post a photo or write a prose piece about your most beautiful thing. You could write a small stone or show us a piece of artwork you’ve made in honour of your most beautiful thing. It’s completely up to you. You could be extravagant and post a whole series of your most beautiful things, so says Fiona.

Writing Our Way Home are making a directory of everyone who’s taking part, and they will also re-post their favourite entries on their blog over the following month.

If you’d like to join her, email fiona@writingourwayhome.com for more details. And watch this space for the most beautiful thing from me :)

Press Release Against IT 2011 Rules

Reblogged from Kafila:

Click to visit the original post

PRESS RELEASE

The notification of the Information Technology (Intermediaries Guidelines) Rules 2011 in April 2011 has resulted in the creation of a mechanism whereby intermediaries (such as Google, Facebook, Yahoo, etc) receive protection from legal liability in return for trading away the freedom of expression and privacy of users.

The Rules demand that intermediaries, on receiving a complaint that any content posted online is considered grossly harmful, harassing, blasphemous, defamatory, obscene, pornographic, paedophilic, libelous, invasive of another’s privacy, hateful, or racially, ethnically objectionable, disparaging, relating or encouraging money laundering or gambling, or otherwise unlawful in any manner, have to disable the content within 36 hours of receipt of complaint.

Read more… 356 more words

The dependent

I remember the afternoon as if it were yesterday. Sitting on the cold floor of my bedroom I had cried uncontrollably, heartbrokenly. Please, please let me overcome this, I said to no one in particular. Please let me not disintegrate, let me just have the strength to bear this. That’s all I ask. I don’t know who I thought would grant me what I asked for. I did not believe in the power of a God to wipe away the impossible situation I was in. I knew of no human who could help ease the unbearable sadness I felt. Holding secrets in my heart that I could not spill, I cried, that afternoon, for myself, for what I never had, and yet was losing.

After some time the sobs that wracked me gradually stopped, so did my tears. But my heart was unbearably heavy still. Something rising from my heart was stuck in my throat choking me. An innate desire to scoop out its contents and free myself from the pain took hold of me as if what caused the pain was something tangible. The tears welled again. But the intensity had dropped. Now they flowed in silent helplessness down my cheeks.

The sun shone outside in all the brightness of a sunny December afternoon. But it was setting in mine, bringing on an early twilight. For no reason at all the title of a book I had read long back came to my mind, constricting my heart, sending fresh waves of pain all over my battered body. If it’s not forever it’s not love. I had picked it off the shelf simply because I liked the title. Yes, I am a fool that way, a romantic fool who goes by what her heart says. This time my heart had gone down the wrong alley. I hated it for leading me astray like this.

The red kurti with tiny unequal-sized checks in beige that i was wearing was rumpled. I smoothed out its edges and started counting the tiny squares. I don’t know why but it is something I do when stressed, start counting. I remember the many fights with Raj, the late nights when I couldn’t sleep. I kept counting the seconds in my mind, obsessively, my eyes following the needle of the clock as it went on its round. 1-2-3-4-5. I wanted my ‘5’ to coincide exactly with the needle’s completion of five seconds. Then I’d start again. It went on and on, 1-2-3-4-5, 1-2-3-4-5, 1-2-3-4-5 all night long till sleep finally, mercifully graced me. That afternoon, I counted the squares on my kurti, horizontally, vertically, tried to group them according to shade, size, looking for a pattern to emerge.

That’s another thing I do, look for patterns in everything. Where was the pattern in my life? There was none. Tears welled afresh. Once again a plea rose from my lips. Please take this decision out of my hand. I cannot bear this life of reliance any longer. I did not know what to do, so hoped something would happen, something that would free me from taking a decision myself. Probably someone somewhere heard it. Or perhaps it had just been a random happening and I am succumbing to the human tendency to attribute reasons to everything, connect totally unconnected events. Whatever it was, I rather think my pleas were attended to, by someone with a weird sense of humor.

The man who came at me hadn’t been drunk. He was driving safely and on the right side of the road. But he had a cardiac arrest. I happened to be standing in the car’s way as it swerved dangerously and came the wrong way, right at me. How long does it take for a life to change? Not very long, I found. Mine changed the very second I was banged against the concrete wall behind the pavement. Probably so did the lives of the man’s family members, for he died on the spot. As for me, I wasn’t going anywhere any more. Not on my own anyway. The decision was taken out of my hands. My life was going to be one of dependence, after all. From my bed it looked like one too long. I wished the nurse would soon finish with Raj and come move me to a new position. My back was itching.

Linked to 3WW CCLXVIII

Prompt words: kept, dependence, rumpled.

The fairness freak-show

Now I have heard, rather seen, everything. Hopefully there isn’t much more. Come to think of it, there seems to be no more places to go. So with any luck, this will be the last one has to see on that front. Rather cryptic, huh? Let me elaborate.

In recent times I have been laughing myself silly watching the repeated telecast of an ad where the husband stands transfixed, then walks as if in a trance towards his wife, at the sight of, hold your breath, her fairest of fair underarms. Underarms? I mean, really?! But yeah, fair underarms are the latest it seems in flooring your guy.  All you have to do is start using the particular deo-spray with its magical ingredient and voila, fair underarms are yours to flash at whichever man you wish to captivate.

Till recently they (the Fairness-Sellers) had us believe that fair faces alone would do the trick each and every time and get us whatever we wanted. Obviously that did not include the moon (What anyone would do with a moon with no place in the drawing room to proudly display the prized catch is a moot point), but lesser things like hordes of admiring fans, that fatuous moron (though why anyone would want him unless it is to kick him in the seat of his pants is similarly debatable) who gave you the cold shoulder while your complexion had been of a darker shade but who now is only too eager to officiate as the new boy friend , as also the ability to steal any job for which you may be under-qualified right from under the noses of the more deserving. But fair faces as of now are passé.

Or perhaps they mean to tell us that there are men made of a sterner stuff altogether, who are not so easily tempted by the fair face and need somewhat more substantial proof of fair skin to be shaken out of their lethargy. What better way than to dazzle the man out of his indifference with underarm-charms? But tell me once again, because the reason seems to elude me, WHY is tempting & keeping the man THE goal of a woman? While at it also tell me why men are shown as these imbeciles who go into a trance when confronted with fairness, unless of course it is for their dear Momma, who is eagerly waiting for her dear fair DIL to make an appearance and serve her (fairer DILs make better slaves?) and in her spare time (the DIL’s) spawn fair grandkids for her (the MIL) to show off to the world. Anyways…

How long before women are going to raise their eyebrows ever so suggestively at the dark armpits of the men? Like the woman in another of those idiotic ads who sticks her tongue out, metaphorically speaking, at her man because the pale band on his ring finger reveals the fact of his tan. Shame, shame puppy shame. It is made abundantly clear to us that she herself has been faithfully lathering herself with fairness lotions, hell bent on making the Fairness-Sellers laugh all the way to the bank with their sacks full of easy money, and so has a tan free finger, or so the ads have us believe. Perhaps even as I speak, the Fairness Sellers are gearing up to fulfil their sacred duty of providing women with Men of Fair-Underarms.  It won’t be long before some stinking rich star, made even more richer by doing the ad, comes singing and dancing on our television sets, advising the men not to use the sister’s or wife’s underarm sprays. Girly stuff. Chee, chee. Buy your own totally macho underarm-whitening deo-spray. Once the campaign is under way,  the Fairness Sellers will all promptly go home and tell their families to pack their bags because the stupid public have been duped to donate for their next luxury holiday on the Moon.

One must be fair (not in skin) about these Fairness Sellers and accept that they are resourceful chaps. After targeting face, neck, hands, feet and underarms and successfully making the consumers part with their money, did they simply rest on past laurels? No siree. Like the proverbial eager beavers, they moved on in search of new pastures to lighten and whiten, and what a pasture they found! An as yet unexplored territory, a patch of skin steeped in mysterious darkness. The last of the virgin areas was in danger of being touched (errr… figuratively of course) by the Fairness Sellers and bestowed blinding whiteness upon it that the Indian masses so adore.

Ladies and gentlemen, presenting to you the ‘intimate wash’ that makes your pubic area not just clean and fresh, but FAIR.  Ohh la la la. The last of the bastions have fallen to the fairness giants. Watch the model who was so depressed to start with. She sits brooding, for her man wasn’t biting. He wasn’t interested in exploring the mysteries of the darkness she had to offer.  Enter Fairness Sellers with useless suitable product to conquer the last of the hidden areas, lighting it all up. Now the man can roam fearless in fairness (read whiteness). In high spirits she prances around, hiding the keys, daring her man to leave her. You bet the guy is not gonna make it to the meeting today. He is totally besotted, under the spell of the white-washed nether regions. Hmm.. I am left wondering how ANY work will get done at this rate in any of the offices..

At last, with all the dark regions having now been cleared of darkness by the Fairness Sellers, unless of course they plan to whiten hair, eyebrows, eyelashes, irises, lips and such too, it looks like they have reached a dead-end.  So with any luck, this will be the last one sees on the fairness front for the time being. Wait a minute, what about the dark male regions? You can’t expect women to adjust to that surely! Let’s wait and watch if the Fairness Sellers take enough interest to suggest white-washing for the men and whether it sells. But who am I kidding? The Fairness Sellers will rise again with new and improved versions of their products, with fresh lime, oranges, aloe vera, gobbledygook, thingummybob, whatnots, whatsits and more. The suckers will queue up to stock them with dreams of fairness shining in their feverish eyes. Sigh, it is never going to end.

Let me tell you what happened the other day. I gave my domestic help a few of the lotions and creams (brand new) I had with me thinking she might like to have them. Cosmetics are generally loved by women. Being a lazy woman I stayed as far from lathering and creaming and lotion-ing as I could get. But what does she, a real beauty with a dark skin tone have to tell me in reply?

Chechi, we use only Fair and Lovely.”

I gathered up the bottles of creams and lotions (none of them were whiteners) and quietly slunk away to my room. Imagine what she must have thought of me. Ignorant dodo of a Chechi, passing off useless stuff on me. The world is running the fairness-race and instead of competing, she (the dodo) has wilfully chosen to fall by the wayside. Anyways, suitably humbled, I returned to my dear blog-world to draw sustenance from reading blogs of like-minded people who spoke against the fairness craze. Ahhh I felt safe, loved and understood.

The Fairness Sellers might think we are ALL fools. Their surmise is right when it comes to the majority of the fairness-deifying junta who would rather be fair than eat well. Don’t even talk about the ill-effects these creams and lotions have on your skin because you won’t have an audience. After all we all believe in fairy tales, in babas who can produce ash from thin air, idols that drip water or drink milk as the case may be. So why am I surprised at the junta that believes dark skin would miraculously turn fair with creams, sprays and such magical stuff? I am thankful that at least some of us can see through the master plan of Fairness Sellers, that of enriching themselves at our cost. I wish people would realise that there is only one fairness cream that works: Photoshop.

(Thank you for sending me this pic Hrishi)

Before I wind up, here is something to ponder upon. Vivek said to me,

“I was sitting at a restaurant with my wife and there was this German kid playing around. I remarked how she looked like a doll…and then I also continued, why wouldn’t she look like a doll to me? All dolls I know are fair-skinned with blue/green eyes. Why don’t they make brown-skinned dolls or yellow ones?”

Updated to add relevant posts:

Fair and Lovely? – Smitha

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who in the land is fairest of all? – Deeps

Digitally dark and lovely – Suranga 

‘Fair’ is just a four letter word…. - Suranga

Fairness down there – RajK

The unfairness of being fair - Purba Ray