rage...

I didn't talk much about it.... probably because I believed that talking did not solve issues.
Recently, my friend had blogged about it, and I thought I'd write this, if not for anything, at least for mental catharsis. the original post was made as a comment on this blog.
what follows is a personal opinion and might be a bit idealistic,insane,etc.
I'm a feminist, rather I try to lean towards "equality among sexes". So the other day among friends, I encountered "women are physically weak" while discussing recent events. Are women physically weak?? Maybe they are. I don't know; most women are stronger than me physically. But that’s beside the point. I don't believe most men are in the pink of their health either.
Rapists are cowards and hunt in packs. And when you are faced with danger, your mental makeup comes into the picture, not just the physical build. In my opinion, The Indian women are mentally weak. They have been fed on the traditional values that border on sycophantic worship of the male and their superiority. A female has to adjust & adhere to the societal mores. A female has to be accommodating; a female must know her place. A dignified female should be silent and composed. Bullshit et. al.
From a very early age a male companion is sent with her if she goes out alone. At college, male friends accompany the female group (most cases) and later you have the male friend or colleague accompanying her back home from work. After all this when a woman finds herself alone, she comes up with questions that are on the lines of: “how can I walk back home alone?”, “can I call him and ask him to drop me home??” .
Yes I agree the streets are not safe and the men are responsible for it. But when the women already feel insecure, I don’t believe there is much to be done. I don’t blame the women for this mind set, the need to cower rather than stand up and fight. I blame all the fathers, I blame all the brothers I blame all the male colleagues who convinced her that she was helpless. Personally, I have told at least a handful of my female friends to get a pepper spray for themselves; as far as I know none of them have got one. They are pretty comfortable,the men are always around.
Sometime back a guy asked me "will you let your daughter out??" . My father gave me a lot of freedom and it increased with my age; so did the responsibilities associated with it. What would I do if I had a kid? I would like her to enjoy this life with the same freedom. Would she roam around after the dark? Yes. She will.
Life is too short to forgo small pleasures. If something has to happen it will. But I’ll make a difference. I’ll tell her about the dangers that lurk; I’ll ask her to stay calm when they present themselves. I’ll give her the first can of pepper spray, I’ll teach her the value of self defense. I’ll tell her not to be afraid of the dark. My wife might curse me for all this and I might lose many a night’s sleep over it. but when faced with a pack of lecherous cowards, she might be able to fight them off and I would have made a small contribution towards the “confident women” ideal that I really wish was visible. I’m not talking about the ‘confident at work’, ‘confident around guys’ types. I am talking about a truly self assured woman who can command the respect she has been denied for so long…

This is dedicated to all those of you whose beautiful dreams were mercilessly ripped apart by the appearance of random characters chanting the lords name just when things were beginning to get exciting...

Long long time ago, there was this young fellow who went to the forest in search of wisdom. He Sat under a shady tree & pondered on the shady mysteries of life. Days became months, months became years and over time, his grew bored of his beard. He longed for a razor. He was trapped, he was bored & he realized that the village folk would expect him to know something more than them if he went back now.But one fine day, he was shook from his reverie (sleep) by a Bombay circus clown. The clown wanted enlightenment & He promptly traded his shady spot under the tree for some magic tricks.

The villagers were awed by his magic, he was God, He was the god’s messenger, He was a swami. As his recent passport sized photographs didn't support his bearded appearance, he gained in mystery what he had lost in identity. They started calling him ‘swamiji’. Swamiji had fun with his new found popularity. Being a pioneer, the rules of swamihood were not really rigid. But as they say, all good things must come to an end. This was no different.

The swami business was proving to be lucrative and swamijis started cropping up everywhere. Recession had affected the job market and the swami business was getting crowded. Some of them realized they needed to diversify. Just when faith seemed to be bottoming out, one guy came up with this brilliant plan of naming himself baba.

“baba, what is this baba??”, a man asked.

 “ arrey baba ‘am dev” ; roughly translated as “my man, I’m god”.

This was simple, and effective.. no messenger, no confusion, just god.

But,in due time , people lost their faith anyway. The baba’s and the swamis were not enough.They were old, boring and had no class. The masses craved for variety. This led to the ‘sri’ movement . These ‘sri <name> jis’ were metrosexual, classy, stylish people who rode around on bikes. The youth were bowled over. They took over the media by storm appearing on shows morning, noon and night. The rage caught on. These people were cool.

But, there was an inherent problem to this movement. Some were born with names such as sri ram, sri Krishna, srinath , srikanth etc., This meant that they were born as good as these swamis and when they joined the cult they became sri sri ram, sri sri Krishna, etc. this was one sri more and it was totally unacceptable to the others who had names like Ponnambalam, Pannerselvam etc. This spurred on the sri sri revolution.

Some of the ambitious members off this clan thought “why stop with two?”. Think beyond the two they said. “ Don’t I deserve it? obviously, I’m holier than thou.. “ there were others who felt “look! I’m cool & I’ve a cooler French beard, so ya, why not??.”  One of them took a bold step; “ look I’m not murali anymore, You all can call me sri sri sri muralidhara swami from now..” Till date ‘sri sri sri’ remains to be ‘the coolest’, ‘the latest’, ‘the fad’, ‘the vogue’, etc..

As the decade marches into its next year, Experts eagerly await the next generation, the sri sri sri sri or mathematically sri^4 swamis. “With ponytails, bandanas and braided goatees, they are just around the corner, Let’s wait and see…”

oh ya you might wanna see this... he's a sri sri swamiji(grade 2 or rather S2).... 

check out his stills.....

http://madhuramurali.org/index.php?option=com_pagecontent&key=vision

Based on this passage, answer the questions that follow…

Q2. What does the author try to convey through this passage?

Q1. Suggest a suitable title for this passage.

Snippets

Hey, you know how my day starts? All groggy and muddled… I don’t remember going to sleep & neither do I remember waking up. I find myself in a strange place everyday.Right now, I don’t understand where I’m going with this. So, I get up, brush, bath, hmmm..breathe maybe? doesn't make sense?  I just wanted three b’s in a row and sound a little stylish.Anyway, I get ready & dress up real dandy.I smile at the thought of my deodorant bringing down heavenly beauties, craving for sex. I spray, I wait, nothing. The Smile lingers. That smile,that smile disturbs me.

That smile starts a train of thought that runs throughout the day, sometimes consciously, sometimes unconsciously. Oh! how beautiful you are when you smile. I smile a little more. It is a beautiful day, it really is, and all days are. I look at all those long faces on the road and my conscience says “relativity bro, ur just too happy”.

The fact that I have not even spoken to you much doesn’t bother me much, you see, I’m happy and you are beautiful, so I’m happy and you are beautiful. I realize I’m repeating myself. I’m also mad. I think I might be poetic too. Wait, let me try. ‘My love, I smile at your reflection of me.... wait, my reflection of you? Well Whatever, I’ll leave poetry to some drugged/drunk loser. For the record, optics was last visited way back in my tenth grade, so it’s a little difficult to frame puns, sorry poetry. Oh ya! by the way, your new frame suits you. You bought it from some turkey optics right. No?

Oh. Office,already? oh no, office. no noo.

*2 hours*

I work I work, work work work, I die,I work, I die, I reincarnate nine times, I work work work. By the way is this Vishnu a cat?? No? He was never one? Tortoises are cute though. Oh wait, work calls. No! nono! I will not work. I will sing, I will dance. Hahaha.dance? I am actually laughing my guts out inside my brain.. wow this anatomy textbook just jumped into the fire.. y??. Guts and brain looked kind of similar. No? sorry. Anyway, Who cares about all these things after tenth grade? Anyway, dance? hahaha... 

I try to stop it, but A thin smile escapes out of my lips, A playful smile, a mischievous grin. oh your lips, darn you are so cute.

*random FFDing*

Exhausting work is exhausting and I return back home exhausted. I’m spent I’m tired & I’m stuck in a traffic jam. So, technically, metaphorically, literally and unfortunately I’m not back home yet & hence while wait for the signal to turn green, I retract my earlier sentence citing temporal inconsistencies.  

I wish there was someone talking to me. I wish you were talking to me. I wish you would lean forward to listen while I rattle intelligently on inconsequential stuff. “ya, she did that once and you barely opened your mouth”. Ok wise one, It was not my fault. It was her fault; she was the one who behaved all ‘beautiful and cute’.

Oh I’m home… hey the day is almost over. “What did I do today?” Hehehe.. nice question. “No really” Good joke.. “no seriously”.. ok shut up..  I’m going to talk to someone...

Hi... How was your day?

‘boring, yours?’

Boring, but you kept me in high spirits..

‘Ok go to hell’

Oh that bad??.. hmmm what happened

*2 hours*

‘So basically the day stinks’

Hmm use a deo spray, and check if beautiful girls appear outta nowhere

‘what would I do with girls? And that is a pathetic joke , bye’

ok I take that back…

‘hmmm I’m going to sleep, I’ll talk to you later’

What? already??  ok… bye sweetheart

‘good night J ’

That smiley…. that smile.....

 Disclaimer: This post might have been really incoherent and idiotic, but then it's not something new is it?? 

PS:

It has been two years and some more with this blog and I'm really happy I started writing. I've made a conscious effort not to stick to anything/any topic in particular and it has helped me write more freely. In hindsight, this might be one of those few blogs that are truly "random". so much for being different...

wishing you all a beautiful 2013... cheers!!!