tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6249105595901063582024-02-06T19:42:52.817-08:00Among other things...A blog in search of ephemeral truths.. And eternal lies..Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.comBlogger182125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-31989330224214277112020-07-26T14:09:00.000-07:002020-07-26T14:09:08.622-07:00Adieu!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This blog has been dead for a while now, despite my multiple attempts to resurrect it. So today, I decided to call the dead spade a dead spade and move on.<br />
<br />
Why now? Well, every now and then, I stumble on a cool blog while searching for one thing or the other and I binge-read their blog only to find that one fine day the blogger simply stopped posting, or worse, completely vanished. I never thought (or realized) I was doing the same to my blog. No, not the cool blog part, just someone on the internet you relate to suddenly vanishing and making you feel just a little lonely. You know, like when you search for an obscure computer issue and there is that one guy on Stack overflow who had the exact same issue as you, but nobody responded, and you so want to talk to the guy and say "Hey I hit the same issue too. And what happened to you? Did you ever resolve it?" but obviously that guy is long gone and you are screaming into internet nothingness.<br />
<br />
If anyone ever stumbles on my blog, I don't want them to feel shut off. Hence, the proper Goodbye.<br />
<br />
When I was actively blogging, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I really enjoyed the discussions with my readers and the often surprising responses (um, compliments) I got from my readers in real life. Thank you for your support! :)<br />
<br />
I haven't written much in a while, for various reasons that I have only recently begun to explore. So I do not know if I will even return to writing regularly (I hope I do). If I do so, I will add a link on this page to wherever I move. I tried Medium but something about it (the platform? the UI? the existence of so many trashy Medium articles?) prevents me from writing well on the platform. So I will have to find some other location. I also prefer customizable backgrounds and so forth, so that will be a factor, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.<br />
<br />
For now, I will be making comments moderated on this blog (assuming Blogger still lets me do that). This should allow people to leave comments but filter spam , given that spammers and bots have been the only ones commenting lately, and I will leave the blog on life support for as long as Google hosts the platform.<br />
<br />
So, without further ado...<br />
Adieu!<br />
<br />
(Get it? Get it? I am proud of that one =D )</div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-11825833571168417132016-03-04T13:24:00.000-08:002016-03-07T11:21:44.479-08:00You might very well think that....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">After a long wait, D-Day has arrived. HoC Season 4 is on!! (Unfortunately, this isn't a review. A related topic, rather.... )</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://masterherald.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/House-Of-Cards-Season-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://masterherald.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/House-Of-Cards-Season-4.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">You see, I am not much of a TV watcher. I can watch mindless comedies while doing chores, but I am sort of a TV commitmentphobe- cannot be loyal to any series, watch it everyday, etc. However, occasionally, circumstances collude and I end up watching one. Two years ago, I started watching House of Cards. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">At first, I was thoroughly impressed by Spacey and his lines. Spacey is, no doubt, brilliant. Robin is great too. She is sexy and power-hungry and magnetic all at once. I was not a big fan of Kate Mara or Russo or the Dunbar lady, but then Jackie and the Russian President guy were spot-on. I liked the Season 2 Mrs.President too, too lazy to look up her name now.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Of course, the focus is not the characters. It is the lines. When Spacey delivers his words, even in an act of unpardonable evil, you agree with him "Yes, yes, a matador. Never a doormat!". </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Yes, yes, the Netflix House of Cards is awesome. But..</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"></span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">I hope you saw the "but" coming. I wouldn't start a post to rave about something, would I? </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">You see, just after I finished the Netflix version last year, I started on the UK version of HoC from the 90's. And being the Anglophile that I am, I couldn't stop appreciating it. The more I watched, the more the American version appeared crass in comparison.</span></span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://blogs.weta.org/programmerschoice/sites/blogs.weta.org.programmerschoice/files/styles/large/public/Courtesy%20of%20Televisual.jpg?itok=S-AjML2t" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://blogs.weta.org/programmerschoice/sites/blogs.weta.org.programmerschoice/files/styles/large/public/Courtesy%20of%20Televisual.jpg?itok=S-AjML2t" height="209" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">I think the most obvious difference is the length, and long is not always good (somebody needs to tell Trump that). The Brit version, short and sweet, is in and out in no time, but you enjoy every minute of it and are left craving for more. The Netflix one, on the other hand, is painfully long. Starts great, but there are times when it sags a little and you almost think of leaving before it picks up again. And though it leaves you almost exhausted at the end of Season 3, by then you are wondering if it was really worth it. Yes, yes, I am still talking about the 4-episode-a-season vs a million-episodes-a-season formats... </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">With 12 one-hour long episodes, Netflix goes into excruciating detail about every scandal, every newspaper headline and Twitter post. In contrast, the Brit version rules the land of the subtle. After a scandal is mentioned, you are left to imagine the gory details, which is great because it leads you to the amazing climax faster. With the Netflix version, you have almost lost interest before they get to the end of it. The ending is of course Earth-shattering awesome, but I'd rather not be bored midway and wondering what to snack on when I'm done.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">That aside, there is the dark comedy angle. Where the Brit version has a satirical tone-
laughing at politics and society, but more importantly, at itself- </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"> Spacey's version sorely
lacks in humor</span></span>. Besides, it has this insistence on everything having a back story, this obsession with explaining EVERYthing. The bad people must have a heart and must falter some time, the good people must have their foibles which the power-hungry exploit. There are no Roald-Dahlian quirks here. Nobody is in it for the heck of it.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Which brings me to the main difference. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Spacey's portrayal is amazing, but Spacey takes himself too seriously. Frank Underwood is the embodiment of the quintessential American ambition. He will leave no stone unturned till he gets to his goal. And nobody is fooled about that. Everyone he meets, even those who underestimate him, knows he means business. You root for him, but mostly because he is trying so hard and he has "got to" win.</span></span><br />
<br />
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<a href="http://cdn.bleedingcool.net/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/house.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://cdn.bleedingcool.net/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/house.png" height="208" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Ian's portrayal is, on the other hand, casual but genius. Francis Urquhart is just a decent old man-- old-school, sometimes a little insistent, smart of course, but not someone you would be afraid of. Or that's what he has you think. Until you catch him in those moments where he removes his mask and you see what he is capable of - but before you even fully glimpse at it, he is back with a charming "We should maintain our courtesies, shouldn't we?". That irony makes him tantalizingly dangerous, and makes you a little afraid of yourself when you root for him. In fact, you don't even know why you do so, he is sometimes too conservative to be exciting- and yet, you want him to win. He is the man you were warned against.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">However, even with a slight preference for the Brit version, I am honestly glad we get to taste two different styles of a very similar plot. Long or short, serious or satirical, vanilla or tempestuous- each is a treat! And that's why I highly recommend watching at least one of them, if not both.. (I'd recommend starting with the Netflix one)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Meanwhile, I will be buried in my couch for a few days.. Watching Season 4 of course.. </span></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-87945362904009701972015-09-30T10:57:00.000-07:002016-02-02T15:18:48.754-08:00Wedding Diaries- Part 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">You know how some wise person said all that people care about a wedding are the pictures.. (And the getting married. But that comes second really!)</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The hassle about picking the right location, theme or not theme, if theme then choose decoration.. (oh wait, my writing sounds like code now. That is definitely not a good sign. Should. write. more. often), from picking the right saree/outfit to choosing the matching mojari (aka sherwani sandals)</span></span></i></span> -<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> every step of the process is simply a coin dropped into the bucket of "the pictures should be good" and what will my Instagram </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">followers think".</span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Knowing this on some level, I figured that what really mattered in the long run was finding the right photographer and finding the right clothes.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">First</span> the clothes.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I
had about 2 weeks to shop. I wanted to be there for the shopping, and
one might say I brought it upon myself.... but the two sarees I let
someone else pick were such utter disasters that if I didn't want to
look like a cross between Godzilla and Christmas lights, I better pick
my clothes myself! The downside to that was walking up and down the
streets of T.Nagar trying to find good sarees.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Apparently, the minute you breathe the words "wedding" or "bride" people see you like this:</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://reactiongif.org/wp-content/uploads/GIF/2014/08/GIF-bug-eyes-Daffy-Duck-do-want-dollar-signs-greed-greedy-money-GIF.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://reactiongif.org/wp-content/uploads/GIF/2014/08/GIF-bug-eyes-Daffy-Duck-do-want-dollar-signs-greed-greedy-money-GIF.gif" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></i></span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Plus,
saree shopping required a bunch of tricky constraints to be met. You
want a good silk material and potentially some sequin work or whatever,
but not so much that it would be unwearable in the Tamil Nadu heat. But
then again, it should meet the grandeur scale expectations, which in
many people's minds translates to social status - so if you wore
something a tad simpler they would think you were begging in the streets
of Dharavi or something. With my natural instincts primed to pick
sarees that would go well in board rooms of conservative East Coast
banks, it was more than an ordeal for me narrowing the right one. And
what with inadvertently mentioning the word "wedding" in the stores, the
store guy would insist I try on each saree I even vaguely considered. But
that's not it.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I
don't know which bride had the brilliant idea of color-coordinating
clothes with the groom. (Of course, it was the bride's idea, however
much the nerd-looking-sarcasm-spewing-feminist-inside-me complains!) But
that has spawned off a whole other set of shopping difficulties. Love a
purple saree? No, can't do- a purple sherwani would look like the groom
came straight from Bombay circus. Found a beautiful bottle green? But
that doesn't go with the rest of the theme. And then there were the
traditional no-nos of white or black, apparently Indians like the gray
areas a lot more (trying so hard not to make an India-bashing joke here).</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So finally after spending endless hours in endless stores and clogging practically all of the T-mobile international data bandwidth with saree pictures, I had a good mind to call it all off and walk in with a T-shirt and good ole denims. Ha, I wish...</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">With
all that effort going in, one would think I would have escaped the
Bridezilla fate and come out stunning on D-Day. I say it again "Ha, I wish".</span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">(To be contd.) </span></span></i></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-3504669084155608082015-08-11T13:23:00.001-07:002015-08-13T14:52:39.236-07:00From a crow's egg to inside a kid's head<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">I watched two incredible movies the last weekend. So I am going to break
the wedding diary series and put this piece in. Both movies were
amazing- both were about children and both were funny and intelligent
and wonderfully entertaining. In fact, it is only as I type that I
realize they are in completely different languages, with drastically
different budgets, and depicting almost different ends of the economic
spectrum. The first movie was "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3973410/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Kaaka muttai</a>" (Crow egg)
and the second was "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2096673/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Inside out</a>". (Interesting/funny-moments non-plot spoilers ahead!)</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">"Kaaka muttai" is a movie about two kids living in a Chennai slum. When a new pizza store opens in the neighborhood, they want one and decide to save up </span></span></span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"> (300Rs=~6$)</span></span></span></i> for it. The story revolves around the little schemes they do to get the pizza and whether money was all they needed to get it.</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">"Inside out" is a Pixar creation and about what goes on in a girl's head when she moves to SF from Minnesota- the typical struggles of a regular kid who moves to a new place and faces change. of course, the main brainwave (no pun intended) was in showing her emotions as quirky characters in her brain who are trying to control her actions- and how they interplay as she eases in.</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"></span></span></span></i><br />
<a name='more'></a><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">"Kaaka muttai" is an essential poor kids' story. Their dad is in prison, their mother struggles to make both ends meet, they themselves pick coal from near railway tracks to make 5-10Rs(=10-20 cents) a day. There is an undercurrent of struggle here, and someone could have made that struggle the cloud of gloom that hangs over the movie. But director M.Manikandan has made a great choice not to. In fact, though the very premise of the tale - the kids trying to save up to buy a single pan pizza- hinges upon their being desperately poor, somehow there is so much humor and so much joy in the narration. The kids know they are poor (as highlighted by how different their middle-class friend's life is) and yet, they go about their lives quite happily, in a way only kids can do, with a certain hope and an almost surprising honesty (who says poverty ought to make people criminal?) despite their funny schemes.</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">The cheer with which they say "My name is kaaka muttai. Naan chinna kaaka muttai avan periya kaaka muttai" (A terrible translation: My name is crow egg. I am small crow egg, he is the big crow egg. Yes, I don't translate this well.) is infectious and wins your heart instantly.</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">"Inside out", on the other hand is your typical American kid story. The qualms of moving to a new place, making new friends are things that aren't even talked about much in the Indian context. The emotions depicted (not just joy and sadness, but disgust which is more sarcasm really), the different personality traits they chose to highlight- hockey land, goofy land, friendship land, family land, and even the little things that they mention in her imagination- imaginary childhood friend Bing Bong, memories of princess doll names, and imaginary boyfriend- are so characteristic of the American growing up experience. Of course, goofy funny characters in her head jumping and falling and making general fools of themselves while the story moves on, is just simply Pixar (or Disney?).</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">With all this, one expects to see a generally upbeat movie- after all, Joy is the main character in the girl's head. Somewhat ironically, I thought, there was a lot more time spent on"Sadness"- to the point of showing how sadness is a big part of (and is important to) the girl's life.</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">To me, "Kaaka muttai" dazzled in its honest moments- moments of innocence (look at their expressions the first time the boys smell a pizza or walk with new clothes). Both the kids acted very well: while the younger one is incredibly cute and with a somewhat impish charm, the older one balanced a tougher tightrope beautifully- he was practical and honest and still with the same innocently joyous moments. In fact, everyone's acting in the movie was very natural- to the point where this could have been shot from the streets of Chennai and you couldn't have told the difference.</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">On the other hand, "Inside out " shines in the genius of interweaving neuroscience concepts (long term memory, emotion interplay, subconscious) almost casually with the child's tale while remaining true enough to the science.The level of detail was just about right- they did not belabor on neurotransmitters, nor did they leave out influences of memories, dreams, etc. That is definitely a Goldilocks zone where even young kids can get what's going on.</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Both movies were amazingly entertaining, even though slow (I think Kaaka muttai was the slower of the two). "Kaaka muttai" had great moments of unexpected laughter, plus the different characters all played their respective roles in the enormous chain reaction that influenced the lives of the kids. The one thing that the director needed to be applauded for was his refraining from unnecessary drama- nobody harasses the mother, nobody kidnaps the kids and tortures them, there is no big anti-protagonist plot at play here- a temptation that most Tamil directors would find hard to resist. </span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">"Inside out" is more obviously entertaining- it is more slapstick. To me, the incessant optimism of Joy was great. I loved the repeating jingle idea (I can think of so many ones to play, if this were an Indian movie). The moments that they show towards the end. (I loved the cat one!)</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">That brings me to a different observation. I first read the "Inside out" outline when a friend recommended the movie and the minute they said brain, emotion
blah I expected to be fully hooked. The 98% critic rating did not hurt
the expectations either. Au contraire, the only reason I decided to watch
Kaaka Muttai was because my favorite reviewer <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.in/sudhish-kamath/tales-of-two-dogs-how-kaa_b_7532636.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">had given it a great review</a>- in fact I half expected to be disappointed by it. As it turns out, I ended up liking Kaaka muttai
just a little better.</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Even though I have never been that poor and I can relate to the American girl a lot more, "Kaaka muttai" just seemed surprisingly natural and grounded in reality that made it entertaining not just to kids but to adults as well."Inside out" was awesome, but maybe because the intended audience was little kids, or because it was part-fantasy, (I don't think it's because it's not Indian) it somehow did not move me the way Kaaka Muttai did.</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">In any case, both are amazing movies to catch this summer, and I highly recommend you watch them!</span></span></span></i></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-13302920574116937092015-07-16T19:17:00.002-07:002015-07-16T19:17:30.608-07:00The Wedding Diaries- Part 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ya I know it's been a millenium since my last post. You see, right now I am part of a scientific experiment at my job where they keep loading me with more work and every two hours they check if they have managed to kill me yet. And every time, I go "Surpriiiise, I am still alive!!"</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So in order to keep my sanity, I thought I should go back to blogging. So, here goes.... </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">(Continued from <a href="http://suchithraravi.blogspot.com/2015/01/the-marriage-diaries-part-1.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Part 1</a> and <a href="http://suchithraravi.blogspot.com/2015/03/the-marriage-diaries-part-2.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Part 2</a>.)</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Long story short, at some point everyone involved agreed that the wedding was going to happen. (I will get to the whole reason-arrange-marriage thing at the end.) By this time, I thought the "difficult" part was mostly over. Everyone was on board, after all. If this were a cartoon , this is the point where the devil would be lurking in the corner saying "You wish" and grinning evilly.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Yes. Wedding prep.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I knew that entire wars have been fought over wedding details and the carcasses were enough to send Asoka to Buddhism, so I thought I shouldn't be too involved. In fact, I started out with the naive idea that I didn't care too much about this stuff and I would not worry about making the choices. (After all, I got to make the biggest choice aka the groom) And things would have gone on fine......</span></span></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But once I saw a sample invitation that came in dirty violet with
golden tassles and yellow-green text, I realized I did care about this stuff on
some level. I did want the pretty invitations and beautiful text- an
invitation that was elegant, minimalistic and somehow had a tinge of
wedding-grandness at the same time. To quote Meryl Streep....</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://sketchballchange.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/am-i-reaching-for-the-stars-here-not-really.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://sketchballchange.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/am-i-reaching-for-the-stars-here-not-really.gif" /></a></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Turned out I was. </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After a few whatsapp and gmail threads with loads of pictures, I realized one thing- the perfect ones were either too expensive or just too high maintenance. The ones that appeared to be
in my league were either "good-but-not-my-type", "meh" or "really
terrible, I cannot believe I am even considering this. I must be getting desperate". In the end, I
just realized you have gotta pick one anyway and hope that it would work out in the long run.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Yes, yes. I am still talking about the invitations. Not. The. Groom.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Anyway, after that fire was put out came the invitation text. I am sure I drove the printing guy crazy with my grammar nazi-ness by having 4 reprints of the prototype. In my defense, I could obviously not have my name spelled "suchira" (with the 's' in lowercase') or Irvine spelled "Inwine". Seriously!</span></span></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Then came the menus. As a food lover, I thought I should have a say in this even though everyone insisted I wouldn't be getting to eat much of it.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So I was trying really hard to include items that different sections of guests would appreciate (or at least to serve the principle that nobody should go home hungry!) But then our original caterer bailed out because our mandap wala said "No buffet" (I know, what is up with THAT!?! That too in a place with a characteristically Western name - Salem.) So we had to settle for a South Indian caterer who promised to make Naans and some paneer thing (I forget what), but from the minute I saw his menu written in Tamil, I knew he was one of the types to spell Gobhi as Gopi and my expectations spiralled down. </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I still had to ensure there was at least a mix of dishes in the menu and that the chef didn't put anything that was technically correct but practically incriminating like fake meat. Not that that helped. On D-Day most of his dishes reminded me of hostel food anyway. </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Of course I had to repeat the charade again for 2 more receptions- and also ensure that they didn't all look the same. If someone is thinking I should have written a script for generating menus - I agree. I don't know why it didn't occur to me then.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">You know just writing this out is tiring. And that's not even midway. We still had the theme and decorations, clothes and all that other stuff to go..</span></span></i></span>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.indianmeme.com/media/download.php?meme=ukev3d" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.indianmeme.com/media/download.php?meme=ukev3d" height="320" width="256" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span></span></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">(To be contd.)</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></span></span></i></span><span style="color: #660000;">
<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">---</span></span></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Oh, the reason for not liking arranged marriage. I am thinking I will make it one of those things like the face of this lady:</span></span></i></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="http://3m12dd41gw8bqlgg62dfsvyl.wpengine.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/mts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3m12dd41gw8bqlgg62dfsvyl.wpengine.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/mts.jpg" /></a></span></span></i></span></div>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We'll keep mentioning it, but probably never reveal it.. :D</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So, for now, That's all folks!</span></span></i></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-29137147843812016752015-03-06T16:41:00.001-08:002015-03-12T08:03:04.729-07:00The Wedding Diaries- Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Whew. Part 2 is finally here... </span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>I have a confession to make. I have never been a fan of marriage. Sometime when I was in 3rd or 4th grade, I decided never to get married. The idea of spending one's entire life with a stranger simply freaked me out. This was perhaps because of the kind of marriages I saw then. (</i></span></span></span><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>They were all "arranged marriages". </i></span></span></span><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Dating
was a word unheard of in our circles, and "love marriage" was a term
used with tones worse than "murder" and "embezzlement".</i></span></span></span>)</i></span></span></span> Most marriages involved two people meeting once (ONCE!) and talking for about half an hour before deciding to get engaged. At the time, this sounded too scary- with half an hour of conversation, I wouldn't even be able to say if someone would make a good friend or not, how was I to decide whether I could live with them? What if the person I met didn't like Enid Blyton? Or didn't know what <a href="http://www.thesweetart.com/2011/11/treacle-tart.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">treacle tart</a> was? (By the way, I have never actually tasted treacle tart in my life. It just sounded delicious when Blyton wrote about it. So did apple pie and fresh strawberries and cream. In fact, I think Enid Blyton is partly to blame for my sweet tooth and general love of food. The rest is probably genetics. Oh wait, I digress.) I think my worst fear then was that I would get married to someone who liked DragonBallZ. (Little did I know my worst fear would come true!!)</i></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Anyway, my biggest qualm with marriages</i></span></span></span><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> (or "arranged marriages") was that I couldn't commit to marrying someone I didn't know well enough. I knew most people around me were OK with doing that, but I wasn't. And the Sujatha short stories of women who got married to intellectually incompatible men didn't help. </i></span></span></span><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>(Mom, I hate to admit it, but you were partly right all along. The books WERE to blame!)</i></span></span></span> Nor did the K.Balachander notions of "love"- by which he often meant "connecting with" a person, not stalking them after seeing them once in a city bus. (Aside, I am sorry that no other Tamil director ever picked that idea up. Tamil heroes still think stalking a woman till she relents is ok, and Tamil movie love is still mostly about "eye candy", not compatibility.) Anyway, I didn't think I could live very happily if my husband didn't "get me" and the chances of finding someone who did, didn't seem very high.</i></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Of course, as I grew up, I expanded my definitions of the marriage process. More people talked about having things in common and talking/meeting multiple times before getting engaged, so it wasn't half as bleak. But during that time, my expectations grew as well. By the time I was 20, while I no longer cared about having the same favorite authors, I did care about sharing common goals (do we really want to buy a house before 30?) and values (are we put on Earth with a higher purpose?), conflict resolution (can we find a good method to decide who does the dishes?) and most of all, about understanding the way each other thinks. Which, to me, meant an even lower probability of finding Mr.Right over a few conversations.</i></span></span></span><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>This is also the time I realized that if I was skeptical about marriage in general, I was 100 times more skeptical about arranged marriages. </i></span></span></span><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>I barely made friends with people, how was I going to find someone who could be much more than a friend to me? Plus, f</i></span></span></span>inding someone who I liked, who understood me, and who fell into the same stratum of society that I did, while coming from a family that my family would get along with and happen to run into during the process of "searching" was like <a href="https://primes.utm.edu/howmany.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">trying to find prime numbers larger than a googo</a>l. And unlike mathematics, I didn't have infinite time on my hands nor did I care enough to spend that much time on a search process. But more than anything else, I didn't see this kind of search as practical in my family. I could picture exactly what would happen after I said "No" for more than 3-4 horoscope matches: <br />(The following conversation is imaginary and a tad hyperbolic. No offense to my mom.)</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Mom: </b>Now what was wrong with THIS boy? Why did you have to reject him? (Sounding a lot like Ambi saying "Enaku oru concrete reason venum, Nandhini").</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Me:</b> This is not going to work out ma. We are just not compatible.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Mom: </b>What compatible? IITB and Harvard MBA. He is earning so well. You can live like a princess. And he looks so good also, ajanubahu-va, fair-a Hindi actor maadhiri dhaane irukkan.</span></span></i></span> <span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b> </b></span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Me:</b> It's not about being fair ma. He doesn't like reading and his idea of trying new cuisines is molagootal. I don't even know what to talk to him about. We just won't gel.<b> </b></span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Mom: </b>What gel, paste and all.. Last time the boy's profile said he likes reading and you still rejected him.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Me:</b> Amma, that guy was too mature. We had similar interests, but there was no chemistry. We would make good friends, but that's about it.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Mom: </b>What chemistry, physics and all, talking like Vijay TV anchors! Are you going to participate in Maanada Mayilaada after marriage? Why do you need chemistry?</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Me:</b> I don't know how to explain it, amma. The spark wasn't there. We had a lot in common. Maybe too much in common.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Mom: </b>Now you are talking like KamalaHassan only. It feels like you are saying something, but nobody can understand what you mean. See our pakkathu flat Ananya. She married the first boy her parents found and
now her son is going to preschool in Boston. I think all your reading is spoiling you.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">... </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Which brings me to a different point altogether. "Chemistry". Also called the "seeing someone that way". I cannot imagine ever explaining that to anyone, definitely not my family. I have interacted with many men with whom I have a lot in common, yet I couldn't possibly consider getting married to any of them. However, in the arranged marriage process, I was bound to run into a few "perfectly fine" people whom I would have to refuse , and provide explanations to my family about; all the while feeling a little guilty and wondering if I was letting good opportunities slip through my fingers. It sounded too stressful to me.</span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But beyond all of this, I had one big reason why an "arranged marriage" would never work for me. It was the same reason I didn't think "dating" would work for me either...</span></span></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">(To be continued..) </span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;">P.S: The title has been changed from "The Marriage Diaries" to "The Wedding Diaries" after someone pointed it out. I started out the series hoping to write about the "marriage" but it's only been a few months and the series is mostly in the wedding territory, so changed.</span></span></span></i></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-42922146289092523402015-01-23T08:56:00.000-08:002015-03-12T08:03:21.621-07:00The Wedding Diaries- Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have been married for more than a month now- technically, a month
and 13 days. That is<span style="font-size: small;">, a month and 13 days </span>when I started this post, not when I posted it. By the
time I posted it I had been married 2 months and <span style="font-size: small;">21</span> days.
Procrastination and all that....</span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For a long time, I thought I would refrain from writing about my marriage. I do not really agree
with the line of thinking that marriage is the most important event in
your life, just as I never agreed with our teachers' vehement insistence
that "Class XII is the turning point of your life" (TBH, every year of
school, teachers said THAT year was the most important school year. Much
like mankind in general deludes itself into believing we are at the
turning point of human civilization, our generation makes a tryst with
destiny and so forth. Anyway, I digress. As usual.) My point was - I
don't need to really dedicate a post (or a series thereof) <span style="font-size: small;">to</span> marriage.</span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But, then again, just as Jon Stewart gets constantly tempted to mock Fox News, Rajkumar Hirani cannot resist adding father-daughter senti, Kamal cannot stop mentioning rape* and making fun of Tambrahms (or using "Pallaandu Pallaandu in his songs! :-/ ), Nolan cannot help hiring Michael Cain even after he becomes a tottering old man, and Krish Ashok has to fall back on TR any time he cannot think of anything else** and ... oh, well, I got lost along the list, didn't I? I meant to say that writers and artists tend to go weak in their knees when they see obvious material, and I am no exception! Even though I think marriage isn't all that big a deal, there was so much involved that had to be written down for eternity (or until whenever the Google servers last), that I couldn't resist.</span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So, first things first. This was not a
traditional marriage (except if you count Rukmini and Andal and Kamba
Ramayanam and stories like that). What I mean is it was a "love
marriage" as many middle-aged Indians call it, and <span style="font-size: small;">an inter-caste one at that</span>. <span style="font-size: small;">Actually,</span> to be precise about
how they call it- "louvw marriage *shudder* ". The shudder is part of
how you pronounce the phrase, mind you, but let's leave phonetics aside.</span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And unlike the "arranged marriage" (I really disagree with the terminology, by the way. Calling the non-love-marriage "arranged" sounds like there is no "arranging" in the love marriage. Who arranged the caterers, and photographers and decorators, huh? Seriously :-/ ), the love marriage invokes a spectrum of reactions from young and old. Especially if you were the kind of kid nobody thought would tread on that path.</span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Take, for instance, <span style="font-size: small;">the</span> olde<span style="font-size: small;">r</span> generations when </span></i></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">they heard the "news" from </span></i></span></span>my parents<span style="font-size: small;">.</span> <span style="font-size: small;">T</span>he<span style="font-size: small;">ir reactions</span> range from "I would have totally convinced her out of it" to "Really? Suchithra?" (followed by a consoling<span style="font-size: small;">/understanding headb<span style="font-size: small;">ob</span></span> that silently say<span style="font-size: small;">s</span> "I'm so sorry for you"). Many of their tones would resemble mourning when they talked to my parents (though they would beautifully shift to "sincer<span style="font-size: small;">e</span>" wish<span style="font-size: small;">ing</span> when they met me). In fact, I was positively surprised people didn't send condolence telegrams to my parents on D-Day. Must be because no<span style="font-size: small;">body</span> <span style="font-size: small;">send</span>s telegrams anymore.</span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now the middle generations (aka my parents' generation) <span style="font-size: small;">were</span> a mix. Some <span style="font-size: small;">we</span>re progressive and th<span style="font-size: small;">ought</span> "<span style="font-size: small;">T</span>his is the right way to go", or in Solomon Paapayya style "Namakku andha vazhiyellam engayya irundhuchu"***). Some, of course, th<span style="font-size: small;">ought</span> this is beneath human dignity and why-would-anyone-marry-outside-the-random-group-of-individuals-they-were-born-into-for-no-fault-of-their-own. (Or worse, the intensely racist stance of "Of course, we are a much better community than any other. It is scientifically proven that we are the most intelligent race after the Jews." I actually heard a lot of this, and other "scientifically racist" ideas.) And then there <span style="font-size: small;">we</span>re some who th<span style="font-size: small;">ought</span> it <span style="font-size: small;">wa</span>s part of the changing times, but not necessarily the ideal thing. (If you had a choice to find spouses for your children, it is best to stick to your "random group" and continue to think that <span style="font-size: small;">this group</span> is better than all others even if you wouldn't <span style="font-size: small;">say</span> <span style="font-size: small;">so</span> in public, but if it <span style="font-size: small;">chanced that</span> one of your kids fell in "louvw *shudder*" you can very well give up your prejudices.. ahem, values, I said values.. for your children's sake). In fact, the funny thing was that even those who did not find it scandalizing, conceded that where it occurred ("it" refers to "louvw <span style="font-size: small;">*shudder</span>* " here), it was an aberration, and should quickly be made up for (aka fix the engagement, get the kids married A.S.A.P and try to pretend it never happened.). Also, even those who were completely ok with an inter-caste marriage were not devoid of the prejudices ("I want you to be happy, but I am only afraid that <span style="font-size: small;">they</span> <span style="font-size: small;">do not respect their women enough<span style="font-size: small;">" or "They <span style="font-size: small;">don't teach their kids <span style="font-size: small;">to</span> respect people and relations enough" etc.) Sad, but true .</span> </span></span></span></i></span></span><i> <span style="font-size: small;"></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now for the current generation. Almost nobody I know had any problem with "love marriage" though some admitted it <span style="font-size: small;">must be</span> difficult for the parents. Most people were surprised how we pulled it off (remember <span style="font-size: small;">we</span> weren't the dating "types") and almost everyone was super excited and giggly and started badgering me with questions of "What's your story". Of course, I thoroughly disappointed them by saying there is not too much of a story- I met someone with similar values/ideas and we thought it made sense for us to spend our lives together. Neither of us stalked the other through the crowded buses of Chennai (or Trichy, for that matter) and we definitely did not sing our duets in snow filled countries abroad (although, admittedly, our marriage videographer had the wonderful idea and even tried to implement it with Photoshop. I will get to that eventually). The other common reaction was a very excited "Where did he propose" (or worse, "Who proposed") and other variations of "What's the proposal story" to which I usually go "Um. Nothing much." Which is disappointing. We all like to hear how one man made a big fool of himself and put his dignity at stake asking a woman out, don't we. </span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But the honest answer was that our relationship was based on common values, common thought processes and other boring-sounding things which no self-respecting romance author would ever want to mention. We might have<span style="font-size: small;"> had instinctive liking for each other, <span style="font-size: small;">but <span style="font-size: small;">w</span></span></span>e <span style="font-size: small;">made that almost immaterial by </span>spen<span style="font-size: small;">ding</span> our early months arguing about the "ideas", our beliefs, our respective takes on politics, economics and the like, and so on till we thought we had exhausted all possible intellectual conversation any two individuals could have. (The<span style="font-size: small;">n, of course, we moved on to the pani puris and veg momos.</span>)<span style="font-size: small;"> </span>I mean, seriously. We started out on very serious foo<span style="font-size: small;">ding<span style="font-size: small;">.. footing, I mean. </span></span> </span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Of course, <span style="font-size: small;">t</span>hat does not mean we didn't make fools of ourselves.
Everyone in love does. We did spend a substantial time talking and
texting and generally obsessing about "wait, where is this going?" Our
friends definitely had a good laugh at our expense and we did harbor an
emotion that went beyond the logical, business-like, Ayn Randish 'love'. </span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But</span>, falling in love or making a fool of yourself is Step 1. Like "the infamous author I almost despise" claims, "<span style="font-size: small;">I</span>n India, marriages are not between boy and girl. They are between boy's family and girl's family"...</span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">(To be continued) </span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">* I<span style="font-size: small;"> have a real rant to make here about how Kamal took "A Wednesday" and butchered it when he made "Unnai Pol Oruvan". <span style="font-size: small;">Not just with his persona that really <span style="font-size: small;">differed from the adorable old man that Na<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">see</span>r</span>uddin Shah was, but with actual screenplay changes- ALL o>f which ruined the movie.</span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">** That is not to mean <span style="font-size: small;">Krish Ashok</span> is not brill<span style="font-size: small;">iant. To quote Ron<span style="font-size: small;">ald Weasley, "</span>H</span>e is bloody brilliant". And that applies to everyone on the list, by the way,</span></span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">*** For non-Tamil folk, Solomon Paapayya is a Tamil orator, professor, etc. <span style="font-size: small;">who rema<span style="font-size: small;">rks</span></span> in a mock wistful tone in one of his <span style="font-size: small;">debate shows "We <span style="font-size: small;">did not have that facility when we were young" referring to the facility of falling in l<span style="font-size: small;">ove. :D<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I promise you it sounds funnier in <span style="font-size: small;">T</span>amil than it did here.</span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;">P.S: The title has been changed from "The Marriage Diaries" to "The Wedding Diaries" after someone pointed it out. I started out the series hoping to write about the "marriage" but it's only been a few months and the series is mostly in the wedding territory, so changed.</span></span></span></i></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span><i> </i></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-69536170006563189692014-08-18T11:42:00.000-07:002014-08-18T11:42:49.011-07:00Music. And kids. - Part 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">(Continued from <a href="http://suchithraravi.blogspot.com/2014/08/music-and-kids-part-2.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Part 2</a>. <a href="http://suchithraravi.blogspot.com/2014/06/music-and-kids.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;">P</span>art 1</a> here.)</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The reason most kids enjoy taking classes for a skill or a sport more than they enjoy school is because the rewards are quicker. Education seems pointless to most kids because it involves a great deal of effort for 10-12 years but does not seem to produce anything more substantial than smiling parents during that time. Winning a match or giving a good performance in front of people (even if they are just your neighbours) gives a sense of achievement.The problem for Carnatic music, of course, is that it is as much of a long-term penance as school education. With 6 months of cricket coaching, one would start playing small matches. With 6 months on an instrument like the guitar, one can play "Nenjukulle" when family friends visit. In comparison, Carnatic music is an anti-climax. In 6 months, one learns multiple combinations of SaRiGaMaPaDaNiSa on different scales and some <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geetam" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">geethams</a>, which sadly do not even qualify as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Performances_of_Carnatic_music#Contemporary_concert_content" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">thukkadas</a> in concerts. Any Tambrahm kid can tell you there is no applause for singing "Sree gananaadha".. in fact, the visiting maami/maama is bound to interrupt you during the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anupallavi" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">anupallavi </a>and ask their eldest son to sing a good <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pancharatna_Kriti" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">pancharatna keerthanai</a> preluded by a solid <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alapana" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">alapanai</a>.</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Oh, that reminds me. Most maamis/maamas would not condescend to making corrections in a film song<span style="font-size: small;">. <span style="font-size: small;">(</span></span>In fact,<span style="font-size: small;"> I<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span>know some who would not even listen to light devotional music- "Too populist, I say"). But </span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">no self-respecting musical Tambrahm would <span style="font-size: small;">desist<span style="font-size: small;"> </span>the</span> from making the most minute corrections in the <span style="font-size: small;">Carnatic </span>song a kid is singing. This, </span></i></span>even if their own voices are no longer functional<span style="font-size: small;"> or</span> they have forgotten most of the song<span style="font-size: small;"> and/or</span> they have lost touch. The younger the kid, the <span style="font-size: small;">more emphatic</span> the corrections. I remember protesting to someone once with a feeble "But this is how our paatu miss taught us" and was snapped back with a stern "Unga paatu missku onnume theriyaadu". Of course, I was smart enough not to repeat that statement anywhere around said paatu miss.</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Anyway, the point is that rewards are slow with Carnatic music, however sure they may be. And more often than not, a kid is bound to meet more obstacles than encouragement on the way. It should be no surprise then that m<span style="font-size: small;">any</span> kids switch over to learning guitar/keyboard after 6 months of Carnatic. And might I add, thoroughly enjoy it. Of course, there is a "coolness" factor associated with the guitar, and new age tambrahm parents don't necessarily frown upon playing "kanda kanda cinema paatu". But that doesn't discount the fact that Carnatic music is, by design, complicated and more of a marathon than a sprint. </span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Interestingly, that is precisely what makes it both beautiful and enjoyable. The <span style="font-size: small;">inherent <span style="font-size: small;">complexity<span style="font-size: small;">, </span>the structured approach to music theory</span></span> an<span style="font-size: small;">d th<span style="font-size: small;">e strong emphasis on basic <span style="font-size: small;">training makes Carnatic a p<span style="font-size: small;">retty formidable tool in the hands of a good teacher. (<span style="font-size: small;">Cutting the fancy MBA style sentence ou<span style="font-size: small;">t</span>, I just meant to say that I believe even donkeys can be trained to sing well with <span style="font-size: small;">this</span> disciplined an approach!) </span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">While some part of that journey req<span style="font-size: small;">uires innate talen<span style="font-size: small;">t, a lot of it is ju<span style="font-size: small;">s<span style="font-size: small;">t grit.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Which means<span style="font-size: small;"> that</span> there is <span style="font-size: small;">a lot to gain <span style="font-size: small;">from</span> </span>redesigning the incentive system of Carnatic music. Like most dieters and marathon trainers would say, focus on small wins. <span style="font-size: small;">Music teachers <span style="font-size: small;">sometimes</span> teach small bhajans in </span>the first year of training<span style="font-size: small;">, but</span> often they are too small/light for the kid to feel a sense of achievement. <span style="font-size: small;">T</span>he key is to strike the ba<span style="font-size: small;">lance between overstraining the voice (a<span style="font-size: small;"> serious debate among opera trainers that I won't talk about today) and oversimplifying songs. </span></span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>The other <span style="font-size: small;">aspect to the "wins" is that adults around <span style="font-size: small;">sh</span>ould encourage the learning process instead of using the opportunity to prove their own virtuosity. <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I</span>t might also do some good for <span style="font-size: small;">teachers</span> to admit that Carnatic music <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">learning is <span style="font-size: small;">a structured long-term effort and to <span style="font-size: small;">re<span style="font-size: small;">iterate that the rewards are at the end of the tunnel somewhere. <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span><i> </i><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>As for the fidgety 5 year old kid who thought it was a chore to learn music, her parents persisted and encouraged her long enough for her to continue learning. But more than that, strangely (and somewhat luckily), something deep within her
appreciated the beauty of the intricately interwoven swaras and made her stick to it till the end :)</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><u>Glossary</u></span></span></span></i></span></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Unga paatu missku onnume theriyaadu- Your music teacher does not know anything!</span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">kanda kanda cinema paatu- random(?) song from a movie. The "random" has a mild negative tone here. </span></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><u>P.S:</u><span style="font-size: small;"> Dur<span style="font-size: small;">ing the entire series, I have not talked about kids who <span style="font-size: small;">actually <span style="font-size: small;">did the fancy neravals :P Partly because their story was too obvious to discuss. But mostly because <span style="font-size: small;">I be<span style="font-size: small;">lieve that a few success stories do not imply that a system cannot be improved. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span><i><br /></i>
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Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-23850471977882925442014-08-06T14:11:00.002-07:002014-08-06T14:11:40.130-07:00Music. And kids. - Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">(I know it's been a while since I put up part 1. As usual, couldn't find the time to edit Part 2.<span style="font-size: small;"> </span> <span style="font-size: small;">By the way, t<span style="font-size: small;">his piece became too long and spilled over to a Part 3.<span style="font-size: small;">. Kn<span style="font-size: small;">owing my great sense of punctuality, I <span style="font-size: small;">hope</span></span> to put that u<span style="font-size: small;">p before these musical kids become adults ;) :P )</span></span></span></span></span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When I was 5 (and probably for most of my school life), everyone around me hated math. Sadly, I loved it, or worse, was in love with it. By the way, notice I didn't talk about aptitude. I used to think I was good at math until I talked to a real mathematician in grad school and truly understood the phrase "it's greek to me"! Anyway, this star-crossed love for math often put me in a bad spot on friend-group-hierarchies, but more importantly, it surprised my kid-brain a great deal. Here was a subject that needed minimal studying/memorizing effort once you got the idea and I dared not tell reveal this to any soul in school because they seemed to share a singular hatred for it. Of course I hadn't heard of "<a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/damnant%20quod%20non%20intelligunt" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Damnant quod non intellegunt</a>" at that time.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Like that proverb effectively states, the reason people hated math (and the reason I didn't care too much about music classes) was fear.</span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In one of my first few music classes (I changed teachers quite a bit, partly because my family moves around every few years), the teacher just opened the contraption called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shruti_box" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">shruti box</a> and said "<span style="font-size: small;">What shruthi should I keep</span>? 5?" For all you know, I might have thought shruthi (scale) was another synonym for age. As any nice Indian kid was taught to, I politely agreed. Nobody actually told me what an octave was, what pitch meant and how it was different from loudness/volume until we studied high school physics. I know some of these sound too basic to be explained. And they are basic, but not to a 5-year old. And of course, a few years later, I was taking way more advanced lessons <span style="font-size: small;">and</span> it was too late to ask what pitch meant.</span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">You might argue that Carnatic music, like most traditional Indian arts is taught by the ear- you hang around for sometime and you learn to identify when you are singing out of scale. Fair point. In fact, I even think that music teachers expecting kids to pick up stuff on their own is fine if they would also encourage questions just in case. Did I just say questions? I was in the heart of conservative India.. who am I kidding? Obviously, if you do not know something (even when you are 5)<span style="font-size: small;"> and dare to ask</span>, <span style="font-size: small;">the teacher would scornfully announce you</span> are <span style="font-size: small;">not only too stupid , but also</span> too impolite. Lest you think I am exaggerating, one of my music teachers actually lamented to us about how <span style="font-size: small;">"</span>kids these days" come to music class without even knowing what "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melakartha" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">mela kartha</a>" means. You can imagine a 5-year old mustering the courage and pointing out to her that it was part of her duties as a teacher to spread that light of knowledge...</span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Wait.. you say.. that's just a lot of regular Indian-education ranting. After all, if all you wanted to say was that there is no freedom to ask questions in India and people use your lack of knowledge (or your thirst for it) as their own power, why bring up Carnatic music?</span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And yes, you are right. All of that applies as much to math as to music. But there is more to this tale that might apply to math but is mostly particular to Carnatic music...</span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">(To be completed..)</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span></i></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-61926374399292025352014-07-08T10:50:00.000-07:002014-07-08T10:50:23.826-07:007 years. and counting.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Before I say anything else, the part 2 of Music and Kids will be published later this week. Sorry for not publishing earlier, I fell sick sometime last month, plus got very busy.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now that that's out of the way.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It's exactly 7 years since I started this blog. 7 years. Seems like a long time. It is, when you realize that the iPhone had only been released a week
before, Instagram was non-existent, the US had never had
a non-white President until then, and the last Harry Potter book <span style="font-size: small;">had</span> not
yet been published.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">To some extent, I don't even remember what I used to be like when I started <span style="font-size: small;">this blog</span>- I know I <span style="font-size: small;">started on <span style="font-size: small;">a whim because <span style="font-size: small;">I</span> liked the date <span style="font-size: small;">(you know, for </span></span></span>a sense of symmetry<span style="font-size: small;">- </span>7/7/7). I remember typing from a Pentium 4 (our first desktop) and I intended the blog mostly for poetry (and feminism, but I never got around to writing much feminism). Clearly, things didn't happen as planned :D</span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I was mostly using what was then called SMS-language, something that I now think is a way of butchering English. (Talk about growing old, huh!) I used to mostly write on paper first (and later MS word), partly because I felt my thoughts would flow better on paper, but mostly because the internet was both slow and expensive- every minute was to be taken seriously. My topics and style tended to be serious as well- I wanted to treat the blog as a medium of social change (something that never happened, and of course, an idea usurped by Twitter, which was barely a year old then, by the way). </span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Anyway, while I am still not as regular with posting, I have enjoyed every bit of it. To be honest, when I started I did not have much of an idea of what I was getting into. The blog was mostly a way for me to write in an eco-friendly manner. Given that I wanted to write more serious and socially-relevant material, I did not expect to have many readers. I did not know what SEO was, and social media was an infant (I did not even have an orkut account at the time, and orkut will be gone in a month!), so I wasn't trying to publicize actively. But slowly, I got more readers, mostly friends, but some from outside as well.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have since realized that writing is not an individual process. Yes, the idea is created in the writer's head (especially with fiction), but the very act of writing involves a reader, if only an imaginary one. With each comment I have received, I have felt more motivated to write. And I like to believe my writing has become better in the process.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So, thank YOU.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Actually, let me repeat that for emphasis. Thank YOU.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For commenting, for liking these posts on facebook, for making me a better writer and a better person in so many ways. </span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But mainly, for reading. </span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Thank you f</span>or keeping that magical connection between a writer and a reader alive...</span></i></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-16218061704713606892014-06-05T16:01:00.000-07:002014-06-05T16:01:38.205-07:00Music. And kids.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">If I have not mentioned it a million times by now, let me mention once more- I am into music a lot. Any kind (depends on my whim that day), but my close-to-default option is Carnatic. It's probably because I am always able to find one raga or other to suit my mood-of-the-day and <span style="font-size: small;">Ca<span style="font-size: small;">rnatic music</span></span> has almost never failed me. However, as a kid (and sometimes as an adult) I really think I have failed Carnatic music.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In fact, for a long time, the only thing I wanted to ask fate (if it was a person and it appeared before me like Brahma in Sunday morning mythological dramas) was why I failed Carnatic music. One half of me thinks that I should have put in more effort at it as a kid (I know I tried my best not to). The other half thinks that the effort may not have helped anyway. While I can sing enough to keep an audience entertained (or enough to satisfy <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golu" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">golu</a>-keeping, you-must-sing-before-I-give-u-<span style="color: #a64d79;">sundal</span> type maamis), I cannot jazz it up- no fancy <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Niraval" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">neravals</a> or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manodharmaswara" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">manodharmams</a>. No <a href="http://sapthaswaras.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-are-sangathis.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">sangathis</a> that land back into the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charanam" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">charanam</a> with panache. Hell, I can barely sing a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyagaraja" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">thyagaraja</a> <span style="color: #a64d79;">krithi</span> without him turning in his grave<span style="font-size: small;">, </span>or <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">should I say<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span>cursing me from the heavens<span style="font-size: small;">,</span> and I can </span>identify a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dheerasankarabharanam" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">shankarabharanam</a> or a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sahana_%28raga%29" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">sahana</a> </span></span></i></span><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">wi<span style="font-size: small;">th <span style="font-size: small;">little more than 50% accuracy<i>. After all those years of training, it is disappointing I tell you... </i><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Anyway, I continued to be bothered by the fact that I didn't pay enough attention to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swara#Swaras_in_Carnatic_music" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">kaishiki nishadas* and chatushruthi rishabas</a> that my different music teachers were talking about. Why, I would ask myself- why?</span></span></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Of course the omniscient deity of the digital age (Google) gave me the answer today. (Actually YouTube, but still.) There was a recommended video of a <span style="color: #a64d79;">paatu</span> class where a middle-aged looking <span style="color: #a64d79;">maami</span> was teaching kids some <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geetam" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">geetham</a>. The kids were probably 5-6 years old and the teacher was going on "Kids. Today we will learn ... geetham. This is set in ... <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raga" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">ragam</a> and ... <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tala_%28music%29#T.C4.81la_in_Carnatic_music" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">thalam</a>. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arohana" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">arohanam</a> is ... and the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avarohana" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">avarohanam</a> is .. this is the <span style="font-size: small;">65</span>th <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melakarta" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">mela kartha</a> .. blah de blah" I guess the kids were pretending to listen because they <span style="font-size: small;">had</span> been told they were videotaped. <span style="font-size: small;">One</span> girl sitting in the front (short hair with an immensely cute hairclip, but I digress) was very obediently repeating the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swara" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">swaram</a> after the teacher, but her expression gave her away- she was looking around like the stereotypical deer trying to escape from a lion's cave. And then I remembered.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">At 5 (or 6), when I first started taking music classes, it was a chore (also rhymes with 'bore', but about that later). It was time taken away from hide-and-seek and the feel of the wind while playing on the swing. Music classes would usually be around 5 or 6 pm- prime playing time. In fact, you could hear the laughing kids from downstairs while the few of us unfortunate ones would be going "D S S D P M P.." So whenever the teacher started saying things that I knew she would never ask us about again, I would start dreaming about whether my friends were playing lock-and-key or not, how soon my mom would come to pick me up and if the girl (from a story book) who lost her red ribbon would actually find it or not. This list of things included most of music theory, because<span style="font-size: small;"> while teachers <span style="font-size: small;">mentioned the mela kartha classification often enough, they would<span style="font-size: small;">n't care as lo<span style="font-size: small;">ng as what you s<span style="font-size: small;">a</span>ng sounded close enough to the s<span style="font-size: small;">ong you were singing<span style="font-size: small;"> (which is good in a way<span style="font-size: small;">)</span>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Music classes</span> also came with the one question I <span style="font-size: small;">dreaded the most (and had I kno<span style="font-size: small;">wn then, would have <span style="font-size: small;">thought was worse than</span> asking a PhD student about<span style="font-size: small;"> his/her</span> <span style="font-size: small;">thesis)- </span></span></span>"Did you practice the last lesson?" Almost every teacher would start the class with that, and I would choose between saying yes (to mean I had sung at least once at home that week because my father <span style="font-size: small;">m<span style="font-size: small;">ade <span style="font-size: small;">me</span></span></span>) or yes (to mean I had really wanted to, but I was busy playing, and I will definitely practice the next time). Of course, as I grew up, I also learned the power of a positive no - it saved me from lying and the teacher wouldn't mind if I made mistakes, though she would definitely get into lecture-mode on how "practice is important and you should take music seriously" (something I learned to nod at- a skill very useful in the corporate world. As I always say, Tambrahms train their kids early for these things.)</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Anyway, that brings me to the real trouble... </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">(<span style="font-size: small;">To be contd.. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scheherazade" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Scheherazade</a> style :P)</span></span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">-- </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Glossary:</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Sundal- type of South-Indian dish made with chickpeas/beans</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Krithi- composition</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Maami- Tambrahm lady </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">*I really like the word Kaishiki. Its not as old-sounding as Koushiki, and has just the hint of Kaikeyi to make it interesting. If I were a Tamil politician asked to name somebody's daughter, <span style="font-size: small;">I</span> would name her that :P</span></span></i></span><br />
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Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-36616607942323766782014-05-30T11:28:00.000-07:002014-06-04T00:33:25.574-07:00The journal entry (a short story)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"29th May 2014</span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I spent the last five minutes trying to start this <span style="font-size: small;">entry </span>with <span style="font-size: small;">one of my epigrams</span>. But all I can think of is - I am 86 now. Well, I<span style="font-size: small;"> presume</span> I can be l<span style="font-size: small;">ax</span> and not keep up my "witty and profound style" in my journal entries<span style="font-size: small;">.<span style="font-size: small;"> I am not deluded into thinking</span> nobody will read this-</span> I am <span style="font-size: small;">certain</span> somebody <span style="font-size: small;">will</span> find this 5 years from now and put it up on Twitter for all those silly people to read. Yes, I said silly. I doubt that ten years from now writers would have the courage to call their readers that. I doubt they can do it now, but at least there are a few Shaw fans still around so there is hope. Anyway, I think I can be lax because I <span style="font-size: small;">choo<span style="font-size: small;">se to <span style="font-size: small;">be<span style="font-size: small;">, whether <span style="font-size: small;">anyone ever reads this or not.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Getting back to business. Today was like any other day in the last 4 years since I lost my hearing. I went through my regular morning ablutions and breakfast and then sat at my writing table for an hour wi<span style="font-size: small;">th a book review that I hope to send out tomorrow</span>. Somehow, my writing seems to have mellowed with me, so it takes me much longer to write words that count. Not that it matters <span style="font-size: small;">in this day</span>. <span style="font-size: small;">When a</span>ny buffoon (<span style="font-size: small;">I</span> am actually thinking baboon here) with a phone camera is able to make it to a few hours of fame like a firefly<span style="font-size: small;">,</span> it seems moot to even to <span style="font-size: small;">attempt to</span> writ<span style="font-size: small;">e</span> meaningfully.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">No, I am not a sour, grumpy, old man in general. I know have had my good days- getting out alive after a World War was a biggie (notice how I keep my language updated. Mr.Dickinson at grammar school would have considered that a sacrilege, but I am the adapting kind. Yes, I am no grumpy old man!), then there was the Pulitzer and more recently the Peace Prize nomination. I am sure I would have got that last one if they had not decided to give it to a politician before he did anything at all. Lest you think I ca<span style="font-size: small;">re- I don<span style="font-size: small;">'t. <span style="font-size: small;">K</span></span></span>nowing you shall be one with the mud in a few years leaves little room for desire. When I was younger, I used to want people to think great things about me "after I am gone". Maybe<span style="font-size: small;"> I imagined</span> that I would be watching from the heavens or some<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">thin<span style="font-size: small;">g</span></span></span>. It<span style="font-size: small;"> seems <span style="font-size: small;">preposterous</span></span> because it's obvious to me now <span style="font-size: small;">that</span> if I am not around to notice, how can I <span style="font-size: small;">give a damn what people <span style="font-size: small;">think about me<span style="font-size: small;">.</span></span></span></span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have had my bad days too. Death of a spouse, paralysis of one leg and so forth. But I don't want to drag this entry down with the weight of useless immutable sorrow.</span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I only have one desire. Something that shall not come true, but a desire nevertheless. I wish I had died a century ago. There would have been a quiet ceremony with just a few people that mattered. Of course, there would still be that neighbor Mr.Jones jumping around my grave trying to look like he was my closest friend and like he actually understood me. But at least it would have been just one person like that. The rest of the congregation would know I desire quiet and would leave me alone.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">You see, all I desire now is to go quietly. I don't care if nobody understands my work, as long as the ones that don't, remain silent. I don't even care if nobody notices - I could be that tree that fell in the forest for all I care.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But as I said, that is not going to be. Millions of people are going to tweet away their "RIP"s- the ones that had never known me the loudest to proclaim the sorrow at my loss. There will be the auctions next, where men with wads of cash and vain old ladies with inheritance but poor eyesight would want to spend millions on my first published work and my first typewriter. To be honest, I'd rather someone
just burn up all of my personal belongings or donate it to someone poor. That auction money could definitely be used better. A fan who wants to own my
pen probably never understood that I never thought it was about the
person. If someone understood my ideas, what do I care if they did not even know my name. </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Oh well, I assume I<span style="font-size: small;"> wi</span>ll have to put <span style="font-size: small;">a clause</span> in my will against the auctions one of these days, if I find it worth the effort to make one at all. </span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But they won't stop with the auctions. There will be the stupid blogposts- what Tamajong's work meant
for racial equality, why Tamajong's loss is too big for mankind, and so
on. <span style="font-size: small;">Then</span> the life portraits- "Tamajong moved into the US at a time of
great strife", "<span style="font-size: small;">H</span>e shall remain a beacon of hope for millions to come" etc. If I had any life left in me at that point, the din
of insincerity would finish me off. </span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Actually, I don't mind what people would say about me half as much as what they would do to my writing. I do not want those memes with my quotes (and quotes of people I completely disagreed with) on them. And I definitely do not want people sharing a piece of my novel with "This story will make you cry and change your soul forever" (Notice how I started this sentence with "And". Mr.Dickinson is turning in his grave now!). I do not want the commentaries and the throwing around of my name at dinner parties where hosts try hard to impress upon their guests the idea that they are elite and well-read. In fact, I wish I didn't even have a name.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And if someone owns my first published article and think it is to be treasured, what d</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">" (the handwriting trails off here)</span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Detailed above is the text of Peter Tamajong's last journal entry. This page shall be auctioned on Sunday the 21st of June at the African-American Writers' Museum; the auction is open for the public. The offered price is 2 million USD but the bids are expected to go up to 10 million.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Peter Tamajong, considered one of the most remarkable writers of the 21st century and certainly one of the most influential, passed away on the 29th of May while writing his last journal entry. This newspaper joins the millions of fans in praying his soul rests in peace.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">(Also see Page 4: Interview of Toni Morrison on Tamajong's demise,</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Page 5: Fans assemble at the Tamajong house in LA for last tribute</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">and Special Supplement on Peter Tamajong: One small word for a writer, one giant leap for mankind)</span></span></i></span><br />
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Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-34724805710473300312014-05-21T16:50:00.000-07:002014-05-21T16:50:07.223-07:00Ironically..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Going back to the routine of posts based on stuff I read- here is something I read today: <a href="http://www.fastcodesign.com/3030622/evidence/why-youre-bad-at-understanding-irony" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Why some people might be bad at understanding irony</a>. </span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">If this were an SOP, I would have started with "I have always been fascinated by Irony (and sarcasm)", but since it is not... oh wait, I just did. Anyway, let's just say that <a href="http://suchithraravi.blogspot.com/2014/01/i-did-not-find-this-interesting-till-i.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">unlike the hyperbole</a>, irony is my device of choice. Except that sometimes people don't get it. I remember one time in high school when I had to write a goodbye note to someone I particularly despised (I believe the feeling was mutual, but given the way we were all smiles on the surface, it is hard to tell..). I filled the note with cloyingly sweet compliments in the hope that anyone who read it would know that I really meant the opposite. To me, it was obvious that I couldn't have meant it at all , especially because I use to be much more parsimonious with compliments then, and I was very proud of my handiwork. To my <span style="font-size: small;">disappointment</span>, only about 2 people who read the note really got it! (I don't regret that <span style="font-size: small;">anymore</span>. Sometimes it is safer not to have people understand the exact meaning of your words, but I digress. )</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Of course, later in life I realized that the best way to combat sarcasm (which is closely related) is to pretend not to understand it.* Unfortunately that knowledge is of no use to me because I simply cannot not get sarcasm/irony - it is one of th<span style="font-size: small;">ose things that is hard <span style="font-size: small;">to</span> 'un-see' once you see it</span>.</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Anyway, it turns out that a good number of people don't get irony because it is more complicated than regular speech. I feel this should have been obvious if I ever gave it a little thought- understanding irony requires the brain to perform the additional step of noticing that the literal meaning of the sentence uttered is in fact untrue (while regular speech requires you only to understand what is being uttered). Obviously, this means that people with sociopsychological problems would find it harder to understand it. </span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The amazing thing about the link I read is that it actually shows how some ironic statements are better understood than others. Basically, some ironic statements are used so often that the brain processes them just like it processes regular sentences i.e. at the same speed. I find that kin<span style="font-size: small;">d of op<span style="font-size: small;">timization in a system </span></span>amazing, really!</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></i>
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Anyway, that brings me to the sentence I really began this post for (I should warn you that it is not great, just something too tempting for me to let go without posting :P )- It's ironic that a statement meant to be ironic is still processed like a regular statement, even when you know it is ironic! <span style="font-size: small;">I</span>t almost def<span style="font-size: small;">eats t<span style="font-size: small;">he<span style="font-size: small;"> purpose o<span style="font-size: small;">f making the sentence ironic.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Thank<span style="font-size: small;">fully, there are enough new ironic sentences you coul<span style="font-size: small;">d <span style="font-size: small;">make that the brain <span style="font-size: small;">hasn't</span> had a chance to learn yet</span></span>.. <span style="font-size: small;">So there is still <span style="font-size: small;">hope, folks! :P</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">--</span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">*By the way, I am sure there is a comic strip about <span style="font-size: small;">no<span style="font-size: small;">t-understanding-sarcasm bei<span style="font-size: small;">ng the best way to handle it</span></span></span>, but I am not quite able to<span style="font-size: small;"> find the st<span style="font-size: small;">rip</span></span> :(</span></span></span></i><br />
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Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-46788738296771122792014-05-08T00:24:00.000-07:002014-05-31T00:21:18.777-07:00Day ?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I just figured there is no point tracking the days anymore.. I wanted to do a post at least every other day, but that seems close to impossible now. It's funny how activities fill out time on their own, like a vacuum.</span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Two weeks ago, I had so much work and was still able to slip in an hour of reading and an episode of House everyday (yes, I am watching House NOW! That's how quick I am with watching series), not to mention the occasional 2 mile run. The first few days after my project deadlines dissolved I was close to restless because I suddenly has so much time in my hands. And then I did what I often did at Georgia Tech (and almost always regretted later!)- signed up for too many activities (courses, in the case of Gatech). Catching up with friends I haven't met in a while, finishing books movies and the like, app/game developing experiments, scripting experiments at work, blog challenge and then trying to get back to a regular running and cooking schedule. The bad part is that only about half of these actually happen, and now I find myself busier than I was 2 weeks ago- haven't touched my Kindle in 3 days, haven't logged on to Netflix in almost a week, and haven't run in more than a week. </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It is so ironical and yet, this has always happened to me. (Maybe this is one of my other fatal flaws). My worst semester in Georgia Tech was not one where I was trying to finish my degree requirements, but the one where I thought I had a lot of time left and signed up for more courses than ever. Admittedly, that is also the semester I enjoyed (and value) the most from my time at Tech- but if you had stopped me any time during those 5 months I would have said I was one inch away from giving up and running away from Atlanta.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Anyway, in light of the fact that I am trying to do too much with my time now, I am just going to go back to irregular posting... Sorry about that.. (But as I said on the description page, this usually means my life is getting more interesting, so maybe it's a good thing after all....)</span></i></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-22318445437947609562014-05-03T17:33:00.000-07:002014-05-03T17:33:28.395-07:00Day 4- Kerala and women<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>(PW: This article is about women and abuse. Contains some adult material.)</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>It all started when many of my friends shared <a href="http://therestlessquill.blogspot.in/2014/04/what-internet-did-to-kerala-man-apart.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">this post</a>. It kept popping in my timeline and I kept avoiding it but then this morning it came up <a href="http://mallumairan.blogspot.in/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">in a different conversation</a> and I read it. It brought back so many memories. Mostly not good ones.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>I lived in Kerala for 4 years. It is not a long time- I have lived in the US for 2 and a half already. But the difference is I lived in Kerala in those crucial years of adolescence, when one learns a lot of new things about themselves and the world, when a child has his/her first harsh clash with adulthood. For the most part, I have very positive memories of Kerala (if it were not cliched, I'd have called them green memories). Beautiful place, stunning after the rains, sweet sing-song language, etc. Our school was among the most conservative, but I didn't mind it all that much. So until this morning, when anyone asked me about Kerala, I had nothing but praise to say (it's my dream retirement place btw. It is so beautiful I'd love to go there when I want to relax and appreciate the beauty of nature, and would actually have the time to do it.) It is amazing that I had forgotten.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>I had forgotten the extensive chauvinism that pervaded every inch of existence there. Now don't take me wrong, I am not saying that Chennai is by any standards less conservative or more feminist. But maybe it's because I talk about Chennai often, or maybe because the details blur in time, but it all came rushing back as I read the post. And the surprising part was not the reality I remembered, it was the fact that I had forgotten.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>I find that amazing because I have not forgotten most of the details of my Kerala stay. From the streets to the junctions to the faces of the innumerable people I knew there to individual events and experiences- most of it is still fresh in my memory. However, it seems that when something is out of sight for a while, one tends to forget the nastier details in light of the overall good effect the place had. </i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Now you might wonder- what could I have possibly forgotten or left unnoticed? Why did I mention chauvinism in relation to a place known for 100% literacy, high education rates among women, and especially known as traditionally "matriarchial"?*</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Let's get to some details.. (all based on personal experiences, so the usual statistical issues of small sample set, etc. might apply)</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i></i></span>
<a name='more'></a><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<ol>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS',sans-serif;">School teachers would advise us on minor details of what clothes to wear. Before you think that's common or something, let me describe the extent. A teacher once told 3 of us girls that wearing school uniform made from polyester cloth was bad. She did not give a 'because'. We had also been advised on things like what the "proper" length of a duppata is and how many pins one should use to hold the duppata from flying. No, not kidding. (I admit this was in the early 2000's, but I still find it appalling).</li></i></span>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS',sans-serif;">Once a school teacher actually punished a girl for standing in the corridor and talking to a guy from a different class. Just plain run-of-the-mill talking. I could rest my case at that.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS',sans-serif;">
Some teachers tried to imbibe the opinion that the first duties of a girl are towards family. Not in the general sense. It was more of an "you are educated and all ok, but if you don't get married after college and don't think that having children is more important then getting a job, you are a slut." I don't remember if anyone actually said it this bluntly to us, but the sad part is I wouldn't be surprised if they had (and I just forgot).</li>
</i></span>
<li><i style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS',sans-serif; font-size: small;">
The first time I ever learned that people could grope and shove inappropriately in public was in Kerala during a hartal. Sadly, it was not the only time. In fact, I later learned that some men tend to use hartals as excuses for molesting or other such behavior.</li>
</i></ol>
<span style="font-size: small;"><i style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS',sans-serif;">More recently, </i></span><br />
<ol start="5">
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS',sans-serif;">About 70% of my friends (girls) from Kerala are married. Most of them are 25-26 years old. That is not surprising, but about 60% were married 3 years ago. When they were 22-23! Almost all the ones that are married have a kid who is just about to start school. Most of the women in this sample set did not seem to have made either of these decisions as a result of much thought more than out of a sense of duty or "what else is next".. Only 3 (and exactly 3) in this sample set work.(I actually spent this morning counting from my fb list of contacts!)</i></span></li>
</ol>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>I am not even sure I need to explain why I find these facts horrifying. To me, it's obvious. But to humor the casual reader... <br />Inequality anywhere is horrible enough. But to the degree I have mentioned above - where extremely personal choices like clothing are curtailed in order to maintain a false image of "chastity"**, where a woman is looked at as an object for a specific purpose like child rearing, is terrifying to me. What's more terrifying is of course the fact that this is in a state with supposedly good education, and in highly urban areas of such a state. I do not generally believe that education or urbanization imply gender equality, but the notion that such things happen in remote areas or due to lack of education should be avoided.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>And this brings me to my 2 conclusions of today, both of which I hope to expand upon later this month-</i></span><br />
<ol>
<li><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>That the problem facing supporters of gender equality is bigger than we'd think. (Something that I realize more and more with every day in the US). Financial equality or even the rights to make certain decisions in a family might lull us into a false security that the battle for equality is slowly being won, when in fact the forces in society that favor a status quo simply find newer ways to achieve their goals.</i></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>The problem with education in India. Instead of saying that the system is not good enough, I'd be more specific and say that education in India is still disconnected with everyday lives. CBSE can come up with brilliant textbooks that emphasize equality, secularism and rational thought, and still teachers and parents continue to emphasize the opposite style of thinking, leading to the dichotomy we see in everyday India where people think "Book vook sab theek hai, par apne ghar pe yeh sab nahi ho sakta". This really needs to change.</i></span></li>
</ol>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Anyway, I am glad that some other bloggers started this conversation. To me, that's a beacon of hope until the time we continue to fight these things. And given the reality, hope is something we really need to fight on...</i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">--</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #660000; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>*I actually knew the details of what one of the links I posted mention about Kerala not being strictly "matriarchial" but really matrilineal. And yet, when people say matriarchial a million times, I forget they are wrong. And subconsciously I internalize the idea that women in Kerala are better off than women elsewhere in India. That is part of the reason I started this post- to fight that internalized idea.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>**I am actually appalled that I even need to use this word. In this day and age.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b><u>P.S:</u></b> I am sorry to my Malayali friends if this sounds like a lot of state bashing. It is not intended to be so. I chose to write about Kerala precisely because it is better off than many other states in India in many ways. And because I love it as much as I do.</i></span></span>
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Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-53945426639226027472014-05-01T16:19:00.002-07:002014-05-01T16:20:18.225-07:00Day 3- On Enid Blyton, the extended transferred epithet and religion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">If I had to name just one person I spent most of my childhood with, that would be Enid Blyton. I remember spending whole summer months letting myself get sucked into her world- with flying cars and pixies and adventure lurking at every turn. In the early years I even wondered how it would be if all my toys came out at night and had little fights or skated on soap.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Anyway, there was one story (one of my favorites) about a boy who sees an enchanted book at a store. The book opens from both ends- each tells a different story. Both stories are about the boy's own life and what his future would be like. On one story, he makes his choices based on ambition- spends more time at his business, is often cruel etc. On the other- his choices are based on family and love, and though he doesn't make too much money, he is content.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As a kid reading the story, it was obvious which side to pick- the kind side. But you see, that's the problem with the stories kids are told. They have not one inch of the gray that fills real life, or to use the cliched phrase, they are too black and white. Anyway, that's not the point for today.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The thing I really want to highlight is how authors tend to bunch qualities together. In this story, for instance, the boy (w<span style="font-size: small;">hen he grew up, that is)</span> would not only spend too much time at business, but would also be mean to his customers and get angry all the time. Then the reader's mind would almost automatically associate the making money with the other "bad" qualities of being cruel, when in fact it is possible for a man to make money and still be a good person. </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In contrast, if you pick a story like "Atlas Shrugged", there are the people who make money and sound cruel but are actually kinder through their actions. But there, Ayn Rand also has some fictional associations- like the fact that the smart people are all blunt, arrogant AND successful, while the villains are all not just evil and people-pandering but quite stupid; or the fact that all the "good" people speak the same kind of language and anyone who uses any amount of subtlety in their speech is some sort of conniving villain.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I see this as a very interesting literary device. It is very close to the transferred epithet in the sense that the effect (or our judgement) of one quality is actually transferred on to others. Which is why I want to call it the extended transferred epithet. But the reason it is interesting is because it is also very very powerful.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Take these verses, for instance..</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<b><span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for
murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars,
their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which
is the second death." </span></span></i></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"Know that a king who heeds not the rules (of the law), who is an atheist, who is rapacious, who does not protect his subjects (but) devours (i.e. mistreats) them, will sink low (after death)" </span></span></i></span></b><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The first is from the Bible (Revelation 21:8) and the second is from a translation of the Manusmrithi (Ch8, Topic17, Verse309).</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In both cases, a set of negative characteristics are combined with the "faithless" and the "atheists". Of course, with most religions "faithless" is bad enough to warrant prosecution- it is often considered evil by definition. But the subtle propaganda that lets religions persist<span style="font-size: small;">, especially in th<span style="font-size: small;">e <span style="font-size: small;">age</span> of technology and information, </span></span>exists in these places- in stories where the villains are evil AND non-believers, where the books proclaim that the faithless are also always immoral (conveniently skipping over the faithless moral human being). Religions are not only full of these<span style="font-size: small;">; they are so prevalent that most people tend to actually believe them</span> (like <span style="font-size: small;">believing all faithless people are also immoral). Which is why I said it is a very powerful device.</span></span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span><span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Anyway, let me finish off today by saying that I think the extended transferred epithet is a beautiful literary device. It is convenient and powerful. <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">B</span>ut that's precisel<span style="font-size: small;">y</span></span> why one should be wary of it.</span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><u>P.S:</u> There <span style="font-size: small;">may <span style="font-size: small;">be </span>a real name for this literary device. I tried looking for it but couldn't find it<span style="font-size: small;">. So I came up with my own <span style="font-size: small;">name for it instead! :P</span></span></span></span> </span></span></i></span><br />
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Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-4902600798953645852014-04-28T22:03:00.002-07:002014-04-28T22:03:46.669-07:00Day 2- The flaw<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>You might wonder why I skipped the last five days. Well, that's what today's post is going to be about.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>--</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>In Shakespearean tragedies, the main character often has one major flaw. In some ways the entire plot is about how that flaw affects the character at different points in his life, ultimately leading to his death (thus leading to the term 'fatal flaw'). When I used to read Shakespeare in school, I often wondered why the character was never able to overcome his fatal flaw- it was so obvious to me that all his problems were a result of this flaw, that I thought it should have been obvious to him (aka the character) too.*</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>As I grew up, I realized that flaws do not work that way. The flaw is a flaw often because it is so much part of the person's personality that he does not even notice it or because he is not able to overcome it even if he wants to. I do not want to get into the discussion of whether this means the flaws are innate or not; just that often they are close to insurmountable. Then, as an intelligent (or reasoning) individual, it becomes our duty to look for such flaws within ourselves. Of course, this is easier said than done. The true flaws are the ones that are bound to hide beneath layers of purported reason, and usually ones we would hate to admit.</i></span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>So the reason I am writing all this today is because I realized that my fundamental flaw is "losing interest after starting". </i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Let me explain. I am usually passionate about new ideas, new activities, and definitely new challenges. However, at a point where the challenge seems workable, or I can see a "path to success", it ceases to become interesting to me. That does not mean that I never finish anything I start, just that often it is out of necessity or a sense of habit or commitment than out of an interest equal in magnitude to what I had when I started. Now this stuff has been obvious to me for a while now, but somehow I did not see it as my "one big flaw". However, once I started thinking about the number of things I have started but lost interest in, it became pretty obvious to me that if I were in a Shakespearean tragedy, lit students would be discussing how "losing interest quickly" led to my demise, and then would silently wonder why I did not see it myself :D</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Anyhow, now that I have realized it, I have decided to basically "eat the frog" for every thing I take up. This one month challenge included. And that means, I will try to actually finish this challenge successfully :)</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>--</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>*Reminds me of a recent "Flash boys" quote- "When something becomes obvious to you, you begin to think that somebody else must have already thought of this."</i></span>
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Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-43417996605213139172014-04-22T17:41:00.002-07:002014-04-22T17:41:25.534-07:00Day 1- Confessions of a born grammar snob<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I am an almost-a-grammar-snob. I'm not half as annoyed by bad pronunciation or poor vocabulary as by bad grammar. You see, I am in love with grammar (mostly English, but where my knowledge is sufficient, Tamil/Hindi as well). I love the fact that sentences should be written in a particular way to make sense and writing them differently would change the meaning. I love all the rules that go into that process<span style="font-size: small;"> and</span> can spend <span style="font-size: small;">hours (<span style="font-size: small;">in reali<span style="font-size: small;">ty just </span></span>minutes<span style="font-size: small;">, but <span style="font-size: small;">that doesn't quite have the same e<span style="font-size: small;">f<span style="font-size: small;">fect as <span style="font-size: small;">saying</span> 'hours'!)</span></span></span></span></span> <span style="font-size: small;">debating a minor grammar point. </span> </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">However, I do not usually try to correct people's grammar unless I know them really well. Not to say that bad grammar doesn't irk me (it drives me up the wall really), but I don't want to come across as picky or rude. And sometimes, I think it is just pointless.<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">It is part of my general "<a href="http://suchithraravi.blogspot.com/2013/10/let-them-be.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">let them be</a>" philosophy.</span></span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway,</span> one of these days when I was talking to someone, I ended up <span style="font-size: small;">making <span style="font-size: small;">this statement-</span></span> "<span style="font-size: small;">T</span>he most beautiful thing about <span style="font-size: small;">language<span style="font-size: small;"> is how it evolves. <span style="font-size: small;">We <span style="font-size: small;">look at</span> 'Sense and sensibility' and </span>think one thing, when in fact Austen me<span style="font-size: small;">ant to say 'Sense and sensitivity<span style="font-size: small;">', which sounds completely different t<span style="font-size: small;">o us.</span></span></span>" (Reminds me of my <a href="http://suchithraravi.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-ayn-rand-movies.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">watching the old Fountainhead</a>). </span></span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Notice I said <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">'</span>evolve<span style="font-size: small;">s'</span></span></span>. <span style="font-size: small;">That</span></span></span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">i</span></span>s one beautiful word. It is like a river that takes things in
as it flows- forever accepting and rejecting, and yet growing with time.</span></i></span> It is <span style="font-size: small;">n</span></span>ot just <span style="font-size: small;">'</span>grows<span style="font-size: small;">'</span> or <span style="font-size: small;">'</span>changes<span style="font-size: small;">'</span>, but <span style="font-size: small;">'</span>evolves<span style="font-size: small;">'</span>. Slowly. Beautifully. Almost imperceptibly.</span></i></span></span></span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And<span style="font-size: small;"> then I caught myself.<span style="font-size: small;"> Am I not contradicting myself here? How could <span style="font-size: small;">language evolve if everybody followed the existing rules? Whe<span style="font-size: small;">re would the change come from?</span></span></span></span> </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">For sometime, <span style="font-size: small;">I thought I had just been a prude (or an elitist) with double standards.<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">You k<span style="font-size: small;">now, t</span></span>he kind that thinks- "When Shakespeare doe<span style="font-size: small;">s</span></span></span> it, it's the <span style="font-size: small;">l</span>anguage <span style="font-size: small;">'evolving', but when some regular Indian IT support guy does it, it's murdering th<span style="font-size: small;">e language and hacking its li<span style="font-size: small;">mb<span style="font-size: small;">s.</span></span></span></span>" </span>But then <span style="font-size: small;">again,</span> that's not true either.<span style="font-size: small;"> </span>I often try to draw a line between colloquial language usage and grammatical errors. To me, "prepone" is ok. "Can able to" is not. "Lol" is ok, but the infamous "entry from backside only" is not. <span style="font-size: small;">I justify it to myself as- <span style="font-size: small;">'as long as th<span style="font-size: small;">e meaning is retained, it's <span style="font-size: small;">ok'.</span></span></span></span> So maybe I am not that bad a snob after all. </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">But wait, </span>ma<span style="font-size: small;">ybe I am. After a<span style="font-size: small;">ll</span></span>,</span> this line I draw, like most lines people draw<span style="font-size: small;">,</span> is arbitrary. And subjective. Why should <span style="font-size: small;">"lol" be ok w<span style="font-size: small;">h</span>en "can able to" is not? <span style="font-size: small;">"Can able to" ma<span style="font-size: small;">y be ungrammatical <span style="font-size: small;">but <span style="font-size: small;">most people can understand it if us<span style="font-size: small;">ed in<span style="font-size: small;"> a sentence. So why should I frown?<span style="font-size: small;"> And what people in one region or country might understand is completely different from what the rest of the world would. I am definitely being a bad snob there.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">M</span>aybe it is jus<span style="font-size: small;">t one of those instinctive things<span style="font-size: small;">. Something I am conditioned to for too long to give up<span style="font-size: small;"> even if I<span style="font-size: small;"> think I should.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway, in sum, that discussion made me realize I should be less reproachful<span style="font-size: small;"> of people with bad grammar. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">And t<span style="font-size: small;">he funny thing is</span></span> that, apparently, I summed <span style="font-size: small;">th<span style="font-size: small;">e</span> sentiment</span> up pretty well in<span style="font-size: small;"> a</span></span> poem I wrote<span style="font-size: small;"> when I was in high school<span style="font-size: small;">- <span style="font-size: small;">"Is not every 'wrong' note the beginni<span style="font-size: small;">ng of a new song?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></span></i></span></span> </span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">--</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">P.S: </span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I
have been avoiding writing for a while- mostly because I was busy and
writing seemed to be a luxury that I could not afford. (Aside, I did in
fact waste a lot of time watching meaningless TV, but maybe writing
takes more effort than that.) Anyway, now that I have some time upon my
hands again, I am thinking of going back to the <a href="http://suchithraravi.blogspot.com/search/label/One-Month%20Challenge" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">one post a day routine</a>.
It takes a lot of time, but maybe it's worth it.</span></i></span> </span></i></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-11889459987240659292014-03-10T00:35:00.000-07:002014-03-10T00:36:03.550-07:00The point of no return<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>That space beyond the shadows,</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>that pause between sentences,</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>that gasp of hastened breath,</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>that electric silence...</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>leading to that point beyond the horizon,</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>to that minute that screams passion,</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>to that gentle caress of breeze,</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>to that musical warmth...<br /><br />inching inevitably towards a point of no return.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>We struggle hard against this vortex,</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>yet the more we pull out, the more we are sucked in-</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>and we only hope we will return unscathed.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>But deep inside, indeed we know-</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>tomorrow shall dawn, and the world will laugh at our carcasses-</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>we who thought we could defy the point of no return,</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>and had to watch as it slowly consumed us.</i></span><br />
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Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-37621247458586491942014-01-30T11:38:00.000-08:002014-01-30T11:52:00.468-08:00You.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="color: #660000;">(I keep mentioning the beauty of words on this blog- and I usually mean individual words, not grammatically correct or complete sentences- but somehow I never explained what I meant by that. So wanted to show what I mean with a small experiment- a slightly unusual but not particularly new form of poetry!)</span><br /><span style="color: #0c343d;"><br />Eyes closed. Turbulent music. Your face.<br />Evening walk. Slow drizzle. That unsaid word.<br />Driving to work. Cacophonous roads. Brushing accidentally against your skin.<br />Smell of sea. Cold wet feet in the sand. Husky voice.<br /><br />You engrossed. Focused <span style="font-size: small;">e</span>yes. Breathtaking. <br />Innocently joking. Playful <span style="font-size: small;">twinkle</span>. Inflamed.<br />You lifting. That single muscle flexing. Weak.<br />Fleeting sideways look. A half-smile. Surrender.</span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>First ray of sun. Your success. The intoxicated revelry.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Rushing to celebrate. Her. Losing myself in the shadows.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Wilted flower on the footpath. Your loss. The ruthless silence.<br />Reaching to comfort you. Holding back. Guilt.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><br /><span style="font-size: small;">Gray skies</span>. My dreams. Minutes. Days. Years.<br />Consumed. Love. Addicted. You. Eternity.</i></span></span></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-88346628907707127232014-01-27T21:36:00.000-08:002014-01-27T21:52:58.391-08:00The man of many words<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>When I started out this blog, I wanted it not to be personal at all. I meant to write more about "ideas" than "emotions"; thoughts more than feelings. Of course, as time went by, a few personal posts crept in surreptitiously, but that was more inadvertent than intentional. </i></span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Today, however, I want to make an exception and write about someone who had an almost life-changing influence on me. I want to make the exception for 3 reasons- first, like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fountainhead#Gail_Wynand" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Wynand</a> says "All love is making exception." and I loved this person too much. But more importantly, I might argue he is one of the biggest reasons this blog exists. In fact, he is the single most important reason I write (and read as much as I do). <br />Knowing him to be the simple man that he was, for some time I wondered if it would be appropriate to write about him (initially it sounded a little exhibitionist to me). But I decided to go ahead and make the exception because I always remember him as a wizard with words, as the man who introduced me to the magic of language, and it seems fitting that I use words as a tribute to him now.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>The person I refer to here is my thaatha (grandfather, in Tamil, and I speak of my maternal grandfather here.) He passed away yesterday at the age of 96 (in 3 months he would have been 97).</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>He was a writer and an editor, who participated in India's struggle for independence, and in general a great person who, I like to believe, lived a full life. I do not want to go into the details of his achievements, partly because <a href="http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/tamil-nadu/bharathi-scholar-ra-padmanabhan-passes-away/article5622607.ece" target="_blank">this article gives a good summary,</a> but more because I feel they do not convey the real "him". (As I mentioned to some of my friends, reading that article only made me feel the way Harry Potter felt at Dumbledore's funeral. I hear the great phrases people use to describe him, but I can only remember the simple jokes he cracked even when he was terribly sick and bedridden. And like Harry does, every time I look at a book or correct a typo, I will remember him.) </i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Arguably, the real "anyone" is a notion each of us has based on "our" interactions with the person, and is ironically subjective! So, let me rephrase and say I just want to write about what "I" knew of him, with no concern of whether it is indeed the truest report of reality, whatever that might mean.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>My first few memories of life definitely include my thaatha picking out books for me to read. Starting with cartoon books for children and then the Oz series (he owned the entire collection), to O.Henry and "The twenty seventh wife" (a book about the origins of Mormonism and the last one he gave me)- half the books I ever read were recommended by him. Saying he was a voracious reader is like saying Stephen Hawking is a Physics PhD! He continued to ask me about what I was reading every single time I met him (except the last, when he was very sick and unable to talk much), and if it was something he hadn't read yet- a very rare occurrence- he would ask me what it was about and how good it was. His thirst for knowledge and books, even at the age of 95, leaves me mind-blown.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>I remember his meticulousness and sense of organization- from the way he would cover books and write "From R.A.P. thaatha to Suchithra" on them before gifting them, to the way he kept his table in complete order even in his 90's- something I clearly did not inherit! I also remember his perfectionism taking a different form- that of the perennial editor- even when he was sick, he would correct typos on the books he was reading. He had also been the first person to criticize my writing- teaching me how a few words could express the same thing as many, but much better. Not just concise, but precise. His choice of words would be exactly that- something that I find awe-inspiring given that he never went to college and was the epitome of the self-made man!<br />And when a four line poem I sent to a children's magazine got published, the smile on his face spoke pages about the joy he felt- not just concise, but precise. In fact, every time I showed him something I wrote that got published somewhere, however small, he would highlight it and bookmark it- making the little girl feel like the best writer in the world.<br /><br />If others had not told me about his work, I would probably have thought of him as "a simple <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Subramanya_Bharathi" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Bharathiar</a> researcher" tap-tapping away at his typewriter (which I was completely fascinated by!). I can only guess he took pride in his work, because I have never seen him exhibit anything but the utmost humility. In one of his last interviews to a Tamil magazine (a year ago), when asked if he thought his work had received the recognition it deserved, he just said "We did not work for recognition then. The work I did was its own reward and what I did was nothing in the face of the sacrifices so many great men before us have made". While it might sound cliched to someone who did not know him, to me it only reiterates the self-effacing modesty that glowed in him. I know it was genuine, because amidst all that he told me when I was a kid, he never spoke of himself unless specifically asked. Once, during a time in high school when I was reading a lot of Advaita, I saw him reading something on Vishishtadvaita and asked him what he thought about that branch of philosophy. With his usual unassuming manner, he just said "These are works of geniuses and what I know is so little I cannot dare to comment on it yet!" (Though many of the Advaita texts are very abstruse, he actually had extensive knowledge in that area- just that he would always be extremely humble about it!)</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br />He did tell me a lot of other things though- anecdotes, jokes about the US in the 40's, and many lovely stories which he would narrate with so much animation that a kid could not but listen. I wish I had recorded them then- they would make wonderful bedtime tales for generations to come. </i></span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>These were
not just the routine ones from mythology or fairy tale books- there were
some peculiar stories which I never heard anywhere else!</i></span> Then there were the times we saw Snow-white on the "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/View-Master" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">view-master</a>" a kind-of stereoscope from previous decades, and the time he gave me a set of star charts and instruments to identify constellations with (thus sowing seeds for the eternal star-gazer in me!). He also had a bunch of sing-along routines, and little games- things we shall fondly remember him by.<br /><br />But more than any of this, the connection I felt with him was in letters. Words. Books. It was to some extent an unspoken connection- he would simply talk about how good a book was when he saw me reading it or give me one when I entered his room. It is hard to explain the depth of kinship two people can feel by reading a great piece of literature- but I can tell this bond went beyond blood or genes, forged by the melody of ink and the smell of paper. I shall remember him with every book I pick from a store, with every line of poetry I appreciate, because this was not the bond with a man who gave a fish, but with a man who taught me to fish instead.<br /><br />In fact, even when I felt the utmost sorrow at his loss, I could hear him say I should learn from this as well- that every event is but an opportunity to learn and inch closer to perfection. And so, even though I am consumed by the love that only a starry-eyed granddaughter can harbor for her dearest grandparent, I bid him a goodbye trying not to regret all that I forgot to ask him, all that I forgot to say, but trying to remember all that I should learn from his life; for he was more than just a grandparent to me- he was one of my first best friends. And ever one of my best teachers.<br /><br />I will sorely miss you thaatha; and though I have tried my best, I cannot find the words to express completely what I feel right now... So let me just promise you I will try to ensure that the values you lived and taught shall live on...<br /><br />R.I.P. R.A.P.!</i></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-89349788592013899222014-01-15T01:45:00.000-08:002014-01-15T19:05:54.272-08:00I did not find this interesting till I reached the question this girl asks at the end. It sends chills down your spine. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Remember the good old times when people used to post content on the net without telling you what to think about it? Me neither. </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>What, why are you still looking at me like I am 80 years old just because I asked that question? I admit I am a little old-fashioned sometimes. Not old really. Ah well, there WAS a part of my life with no internet, but let's pretend I didn't just say that, and move on.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>You have seen this on buzzfeed. And cracked. And distractify. And upworthy. And of course, facebook- the mother of all social nonsense. There is usually a video with the link showing a very beautiful woman or an unbelievably scary (heart-wrenching. I said heart-wrenching) photo of someone dying. And the link reads something like this: "<b>Listen till 0:40. I promise you that moment will change your life forever.</b>" </i></span><br />
<i style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;">I see it and usually go "Dude. Do you know what I have gone through in my life? Do you even know what life-'changing' means? I don't count Dawkins as life-changing, though in fact reading Dawkins has influenced me a great deal." </i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXM6ac5P_PXp2WEjH9hXlKXB6m1wdU52h43TzIBeMgxDtsUkP2SD7Jjuz17q0mFw75iQC6yf45GZkIGwlZ_JsF-oVdVmm92zlnfuzBzrz9L8Bl6k5ggpA2rjJuNcBDRpFzpMbWXZ-KaQk/s1600/pic4_e.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXM6ac5P_PXp2WEjH9hXlKXB6m1wdU52h43TzIBeMgxDtsUkP2SD7Jjuz17q0mFw75iQC6yf45GZkIGwlZ_JsF-oVdVmm92zlnfuzBzrz9L8Bl6k5ggpA2rjJuNcBDRpFzpMbWXZ-KaQk/s640/pic4_e.png" height="336" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;">And <a href="http://www.upworthy.com/this-kids-logic-will-make-you-delete-candy-crush-from-your-phone-and-hand-over-your-socks" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">hearing a kid talk about donations</a> or seeing <a href="http://distractify.com/culture/doppelganger-photos/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">photos of people who look vaguely similar</a> (not even exactly the same) is life-changing?! (Minor technicality: I actually like that kid, though I disagree with him. What I don't like are the adjectives they use to describe him. <a href="http://www.upworthy.com/people-get-tired-of-hearing-the-word-awesome-but-in-my-defense-seriously-this-ki" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Like in the picture above</a>. With 4 consecutive sentences that finish in 'ever'! And I don't even want to start on the "danciest dance breakdown". Dancy is NOT an adjective. And is the last name of a very good looking actor. Seriously, who hires these writers? :-/ )</i><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Or you see a <a href="http://www.earthporm.com/man-tries-hug-wild-lion-wont-believe-happens-next/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">link like this one:</a>. </i></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8E58RWgBlTZRsEaK5qZOnduiaSfoQPSZ2enCr31j2n-6CtUphi3bUmo2pSJmEleu9CTpNFWIYhd7zYrlpkaUQ8RZCu1zW4_gb9u32mNukyg9QW1A7n-jVWpiPNI_Ndojz6Xw-5_ytso/s1600/pic1.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8E58RWgBlTZRsEaK5qZOnduiaSfoQPSZ2enCr31j2n-6CtUphi3bUmo2pSJmEleu9CTpNFWIYhd7zYrlpkaUQ8RZCu1zW4_gb9u32mNukyg9QW1A7n-jVWpiPNI_Ndojz6Xw-5_ytso/s640/pic1.PNG" height="433" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>As if it was a day-to-day occurrence for a man to hug a wild lion. Wait, did you say wild lion? As opposed to what? Your neighbour's pet lion?</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Besides, I was one of those who believed in unicorns along with <a href="http://despicableme.wikia.com/wiki/Agnes_Gru" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Agnes</a>. How do YOU know I won't believe what happens next in your "wild" lion video? To tell you the truth, I think people have changed the rules of grammar by now. The "you won't believe what happens next" is an alternative for the period (aka full-stop) in modern day punctuation.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Anyway. You might wonder why this kinda thing even affects me. The internet has so much junk anyway. You see, the problem is that it is not just facebook that is filled with the I-have-a-lame-article/link-but-I-should-make-you-click-on-it-so-let-me-use-hyperbole-to-say-it's-awesome brigade. Every website you visit is filled with an army of lamer-than-Ravi-Shastri adjectives making it very hard to find decent content online.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>First of all, I don't like being told what to think of something before being told the thing. What do humans have brains with frontal lobes for- to copy-paste your opinion? </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Second is, of course, the army-of-adjectives. An article titled "20 touching dog gifs" tells
the reader what to expect. But "40 best dog gifs of all time which will make you cry for your lost childhood?" That's just crap. Did someone say hyperbole? Good you mentioned.</i></span><br />
<i style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;">See I don't hate hyperbole. It is not my device of choice, but it's good sometimes. (Like with Ogden Nash. Or Oatmeal. And no, I don't know why both my examples start with an 'O'.) However, when everyone insists on using the superlative form of adjectives for everything, you kinda go like this:</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhev3JI-ix4ul4O6iCxhzKA6JxCgT8JwJKN0IBZVX2Xr9a5NWxiPmVh9Ndu4sozMeF2GGq7fxFCeMBpzoFVzeQEdMi6eWzcwaqaTfeDOy9lekdfHLUCjVWWl1sLRYJtiqQGarHKrXyRCn0/s1600/pic3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhev3JI-ix4ul4O6iCxhzKA6JxCgT8JwJKN0IBZVX2Xr9a5NWxiPmVh9Ndu4sozMeF2GGq7fxFCeMBpzoFVzeQEdMi6eWzcwaqaTfeDOy9lekdfHLUCjVWWl1sLRYJtiqQGarHKrXyRCn0/s320/pic3.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Oh, and before I am done. What's with all these lists? In the last month alone, people shared all the following links on my fb- '<a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/jeremybender/reasons-why-long-distance-relationships-are-better-than-y" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">19 reasons why long distance relationships are better than you think'</a>, '<a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/mackenziekruvant/this-is-your-long-distance-relationship" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Why your long distance relationship is totally worth it</a>', '<a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/kevintang/what-it-feels-like-to-date-across-long-distances" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">What a long distance relationship feels like'</a> and '<a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/amyodell/12-steps-to-surviving-a-long-distance-relationship" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">12 steps to surviving one'</a>. For sometime, I thought it is like the long-distance month or something. Or maybe they ran out of topics.</i></span><i style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: small;"> And what's worse? All of them from buzzfeed.</i><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Hmmm.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>A list is a beautiful writing device. Organize your content, list them in points and hit the nail. I used to love lists in articles because it makes the content much easier to remember. But when a list of 40 is made by rephrasing the same sentence 40 times, and then that is copied into 4 different articles- well, it is killing the list. In fact, these days, I simply refuse to read lists.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Pre-deciding the opinion, hyperbole, lists... well, enough ranting for the day. And if you were wondering, The India Hangover -Part 2 is on its way.<br />.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>What? The question? No, there is no question in the end. That was obviously a hook. You knew it. Of course, I could have been kind and made up a lame question. Or I could have called this article "41 reasons why the internet should stop making lists like this one", and then made 41 points out of 1 or 2 and numbered them from 1 to 41. But you see they are the most inane techniques ever. They are so air-headed you could fill a million Helium balloons with them. Wait, did I mention the hyperbole? The most-overused and worst device <span style="font-size: small;">EVER</span>?</i></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-83345112070327971302013-12-30T14:44:00.000-08:002013-12-30T14:44:33.898-08:00The India Hangover<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxbkYJCP-hFbd9VbL39spMdIKaD_mI5F5svgdZe_L97MJLqZbLyERhbLSLkPiEzXYffDCQ1T5AlY_E37a5KUv1GZ9-cPC9_tjruv9pvGHKljn98NRRUUBYeJDanUhFM9ouDL6H7La9cE/s1600/one.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxbkYJCP-hFbd9VbL39spMdIKaD_mI5F5svgdZe_L97MJLqZbLyERhbLSLkPiEzXYffDCQ1T5AlY_E37a5KUv1GZ9-cPC9_tjruv9pvGHKljn98NRRUUBYeJDanUhFM9ouDL6H7La9cE/s320/one.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The evening sun in Mumbai</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">You know that growing sense of badly suppressed excitement before an India trip? Well, I used to know it- what seems like but is not- ages ago. </span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It used to start many months before the actual trip- when I decide the trip dates and start looking for flights. Being an obsessive spreadsheet-maker I would narrow down costs and options into a table and finally narrow down on one. You can hear my heart thump slowly, like the sound of feet before a long run. In a few weeks, however, those drums would be drowned by the din of everyday life. Deadlines, weekend plans, grocery lists.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Then, one fine day about a month before the trip, I would suddenly remember "Oh, I am going to India in a month!". Those beats would begin again faintly in the background. Slowly yet steadily growing louder.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">About two weeks before the actual trip, I would realize I haven't done the gift shopping yet. And I have only one weekend. I would make a list of things to get, and kill myself running across the city in that one weekend. Sometimes, I would also be ripped off by the Amazon shipping costs. </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The next few days would be a race between me and all my to-do lists. Pending bug fix, check. Collected gift package from leasing office, check. I-20 signature- oh hell, I forgot that... and so on. And in those rare minutes I catch myself thinking, I would feel the impatience. 48 more hours to board the flight. And 26 hours after that. Why can't I be home sooner?<br /><br />Then D-Day would arrive and I would do all the last minute packing and re-checking that I locked my place and finally reach the airport. Oh hell, forg<span style="font-size: small;">o</span>t my ipod charger. But that would appear minor compared to the prospect of going home. The drums would be audible again. Playing an interesting beat, almost like a folk song. And as I feel the airplane engines rev up and leave the ground I would hear the drums being accompanied by a full blown orchestra- "I am going home." To people I love...</span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I call this whole process the pre-India-trip-<span style="font-size: small;">build-up</span>. Sometimes accompanied by the sudden sense of nostalgia, it makes me wonder if <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cheran_%28director%29" target="_blank">Cheran's (of "Autograph" fame)</a> spirit is somehow haunting me..</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">-- </span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Guess what, I don't know that feeling anymore. This time I went through the charade of spreadsheets and to-do lists and gift buying. But no drums. When I got into my flight in SFO, I fell asleep almost instantaneously. In fact, during my layover at the London airport I was just bored and counting the minutes before I could sleep on a comfortable bed.</span></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Not to say I was not looking forward to the India trip. With my newfound interest in photography I had huge plans of taking beautiful "bringing-out-the-colors" pictures of bangle stores and smiling old ladies with huge nose-rings. And sunsets on dusty roads and crowded markets. You get the drift. And I WAS looking forward to meeting my family and friends. Maybe the little music director in my head was on a vacation. (This reminds me of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homunculus_argument" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">homunculus argument</a>! But I digress... ) But somehow, the excitement I usually have for going home was <span style="font-size: small;">just a little dim<span style="font-size: small;">.</span></span>.</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></span>
<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;">(To be continued...)</span></span></span></i></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-3474760394867147892013-12-27T11:34:00.000-08:002013-12-27T14:08:16.011-08:00Tooth fairies, fantasy and dasavatharam<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>I know I haven't been writing for a while. Blame it on a super hectic month followed by an India trip followed by an even more hectic month and then the holiday season. Anyway, </i><i>I wrote this post before leaving for India, but couldn't get around to putting it up. So here it is.. Also, hope to write about the India trip soon.. We'll see when I get around to doing that..</i></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>I read this post on Hallucinations about a conversation between 2 six year olds about tooth fairies- one girl knows they do not exist and the other doesn't. It made me wonder what I really thought about fairies and stuff when I was a kid. Very early in life, my mom told me Santa Claus was just someone I know dressed up with a fake beard. And my dad told me that the people you watch on TV are just acting (that was because I would get way too depressed seeing characters die or get hurt on TV!). </i><i>I remember reading way too much Enid Blyton (I think I read everything from the Red story book to the Book of pixies) and trying to imagine that my toys could talk at night. It was fun to imagine, but even then I knew it wasn't true.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>The fantastic things I truly believed in then were quite mundane. Like the fact that there is a supernatural power watching your every move and waiting to restore the balance in the world. Or that good begets good. That if you keep hoping, everything will turn out alright. They are nice to believe in as a kid. Sometimes, even as an adult. It is nice to do your part and assume that "there is somebody who made you and cares for you, and who will help you if you do the best of what you can".</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>But as I grew older, I decided that these ideas were as fantastic as the idea that tooth fairies exist. That the reason to do the right thing is not because you will be rewarded in the end, but because the doing is itself the reward.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Funnily though, I admit that the made up sentences(or ideas) work. Telling yourself not to give up because all that hard work has gotta pay back does give you enough confidence to last the last mile. (You see what I did there? :P) When you have been <span style="font-size: small;">back-stabbed</span> or are generally cynical, telling yourself that good begets good motivates you to go on doing good. So you see, even though I think these sentences are made up, I use them all the time.</i></span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i> </i></span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Then, the truly
amazing thing about all this is not the fact that I realized as I grew up that these ideas are made up, but how these conflicting ideas can co-exist in my head
(and in the head of the kid about whom that author was writing). I can
drown hours in imagination, I can tell myself confidently that it will
all work out in the end. And yet I know these are just sentences I am
making up. (To some people, this might smell of hypocrisy. But maybe I will write about my justification for it some other time).</i></span>Anyway, that reminds me of the Tamil movie Dasavatharam. There is this conversation in the end which beautifully sums up all I have to say about the co-existence of rationality and fantasy.<br /> </i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>The translation goes this way- </i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Asin: Why do you say there is no God?</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Kamal: I am not saying that God does not exist. I am just saying it would be wonderful if he did. </span></i></span></div>
Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-624910559590106358.post-76774966053541219332013-10-28T20:42:00.003-07:002013-10-29T15:59:39.795-07:00Write your own sensational newspaper article<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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NewWindow.document.write(studentname);NewWindow.document.write(" ,the son of a ");NewWindow.document.write(fathoc);NewWindow.document.write(", had to struggle his way through school. With tears of pride glistening in his eyes, his father told us, \"");NewWindow.document.write(ins_quote2);NewWindow.document.write("\"</br><br/>");
NewWindow.document.write("According to Prof.S.Raghavan from the ECE department of NIT Trichy, \"");NewWindow.document.write(ins_quote3);NewWindow.document.write(" I am also confident that the secret of this student's success is his not using a mobilephone, something I highly recommend to my students.\"");NewWindow.document.write("</br></br>");
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NewWindow.document.write(" has hence received a job offer from Google, but he says that research is his first love and he does not want to join the software giant.");
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>
<span style="font-size: small;">By now you have probably heard the outrage/mockery about <a href="http://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/chennai/he-has-arrears-in-engineering-phd-in-physics/article5278851.ece?homepage=true" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">the article in "The Hindu" </a>about a false doctorate claim.</span></i></span><br /><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><a href="#Gen">Click here to skip to article generator.</a><br /></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>(If you haven't, it's good for you. You are possibly doing better things in life than reading stupid viral articles. Here is a recap for your benefit: A few days ago, The Hindu published an article about a boy who "has arrears in engineering, but a PhD in physics". The story went on to talk about how this person had to choose engineering because of parental pressure, and how he spends his time doing physics research and was ultimately recognized by a UC-Berkeley professor with an on-the-spot doctorate. Naturally, most people on the internet shared it because "the Indian education system is so lousy".</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>And then an amazing person <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/148zwzQbZn6ytFwW0bn98CE9UAvYPNKHQNIgkULxnWKE/preview?pli=1&sle=true#heading=h.3dabrzy6pbz8" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">wrote a letter to The Hindu</a> saying most of the claims in the article were false and they shouldn't have published it without verifying them, forcing them to actually verify the claims and The Hindu had to publish a retraction. Of course, now other people shared this piece because "the Indian media is so stupid")</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Meanwhile, I got inspired by Mr.Gunturi to publish some research of my own. After having read many articles in the Hindu's Education Plus and main paper, I think I can automate the process of writing an education-related piece. I already published this piece in the Brazilian Journalism Research journal and they awarded me with a honorary doctorate in journalism, even though journals do not usually confer doctorates. (It is on its way, I will update the image once I receive it.) I have also submitted some part of my research to the "Case Studies in Strategic Communication" journal of the University of South California. They accepted my paper without review because it was so awesome like that!</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Having achieved all this in such a short span of time, I decided to share my knowledge with the mere mortals on the internet who usually have to do actual research before getting their doctorates.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>So, here is an excerpt from my paper:</i></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMGKuGqcWnrFYGEEGQ4Bz2LHbBsG3bJJLW3Jz4fHW4FpHK3vOO6H8-ilnjROftTjfXnjQpHnzCT5uEa5YIS5ROsKISeZR1LowqefuAMYkdjpdgXyYoZ4I9_x4iTuW_nwQXAtdvpI4fJpM/s1600/image_2.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="376" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMGKuGqcWnrFYGEEGQ4Bz2LHbBsG3bJJLW3Jz4fHW4FpHK3vOO6H8-ilnjROftTjfXnjQpHnzCT5uEa5YIS5ROsKISeZR1LowqefuAMYkdjpdgXyYoZ4I9_x4iTuW_nwQXAtdvpI4fJpM/s640/image_2.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4XBH1Q_qf3Its6AMK-Q3AK7B6GXf0EsQY24LJzSiknPUxLb588HSbkAzdcWGX1OVorpu848If_ZLVBUSVE4kqzkl4EaCZJgE4JDLYEt2ypVJteE4pPAiEVZkol1ElbEa4ntjPHRZKvbY/s1600/image_5.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4XBH1Q_qf3Its6AMK-Q3AK7B6GXf0EsQY24LJzSiknPUxLb588HSbkAzdcWGX1OVorpu848If_ZLVBUSVE4kqzkl4EaCZJgE4JDLYEt2ypVJteE4pPAiEVZkol1ElbEa4ntjPHRZKvbY/s640/image_5.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>(Yes, I have cleverly not put in the actual body of the paper. Because THAT isn't important for publishing this article in a newspaper or making it viral anyway.)</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<a id="Gen"></a>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Oh, and here is a mini version of my algorithm for generating a newspaper article for The Hindu education sections. Use the drop-down menus to generate your own:</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<form action="" method="POST" name="hinduart">
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Our sensational eye-grabbing title shall be:<br />
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><select name="article_title">
<option disabled="" selected="">Choose sensational title</option>
<option value="1">Engineering student has disproved the Tijdeman-Zagier conjecture</option>
<option value="2">Student fails second grade, but demonstrates proof for cosmic inflation</option>
<option value="3">Student rejected by TCS for placement, but solves the P=NP problem in his backyard</option>
<option value="4">Engineering project group invents a robot to shoot viral videos</option>
</select></span>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The student's name (note the scope for diversity or emotional spin-offs here. Also scope for Shah Rukh Khan movies. These options not included in the demo.):<br />
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><select name="stuname">
<option disabled="" selected="">Choose student name</option>
<option value="1">Raj Chopra</option>
<option value="2">Ishaan Shah</option>
<option value="3">Rajasekhara Yarlagadda Venkata Samba Siva Rao</option>
<option value="4">Khan. And he is NOT a terrorist.</option>
</select>
</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The student in question studies in the premiere institution called:<br />
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><select name="stucoll">
<option disabled="" selected="">Choose premiere institution</option>
<option value="1">College of Engineering, Guindy</option>
<option value="2">Delhi College of Engineering</option>
<option value="3">NIT(REC) Trichy </option>
<option value="4">IIT-K</option>
</select></span>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">He was forced to pick this field of engineering,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><select name="stubranch">
<option disabled="" selected="">Choose field of engineering</option>
<option value="1">ECE</option>
<option value="2">Computer Science</option>
<option value="3">IT</option>
<option value="4">Civil, just for variety</option>
</select></span>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">even though he was obviously interested in a different field of research. After the achievement, he was too busy giving interviews to popular newspapers to comment, but the author still decided to claim he said something of this sort :<br />
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><select name="quote1">
<option disabled="" selected="">Choose cliched quote</option>
<option value="1">"Was too busy with research to pass exams"</option>
<option value="2">"My professors did not realize the value of my work"</option>
<option value="3">"Everyone told me to look for an IT job"</option>
<option value="4">"Something about rote learning? I am running out of cliches here."</option>
</select></span>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">His/Her father who is a</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><select name="father">
<option disabled="" selected="">Choose father's occupation</option>
<option value="1">bus-driver</option>
<option value="2">bank clerk who lost his job</option>
<option value="3">poor unskilled laborer who struggled to send his son to school</option>
<option value="4">black-ticket seller at Sathyam cinemas</option>
</select></span>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">has to say something like this about his achievement (with tears in his eyes):<br />
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><select name="quote2">
<option disabled="" selected="">Choose cliched but emotional quote</option>
<option value="1">Proud but waiting for Infosys job</option>
<option value="2">Not surprised- he was a prodigy</option>
<option value="3">He would scribble equations on his crib</option>
<option value="4">India does not encourage people like him</option>
</select></span>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">This professor from NIT, Trichy (Yes, it's an insider joke. Sorry but it was too much of a temptation to resist)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><select name="prof">
<option disabled="" selected="">Choose name of professor</option>
<option value="1">S.Raghavan of ECE</option>
<option value="2">S.Raghavan of ECE</option>
<option value="3">S.Raghavan of ECE</option>
<option value="4">S.Raghavan of ECE</option>
</select></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">commented something about<br />
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><select name="quote3">
<option disabled="" selected="">Choose quote content</option>
<option value="1">Many opportunities in our institute</option>
<option value="2">Unlike in international universities ...</option>
<option value="3">Profound implications for microwave engineering</option>
<option value="4">He must join my unique research group</option>
</select></span>
<br />
<br />
<input onclick="makearticle()" type="button" value="Write the viral article" />
<input onclick="random_print()" type="button" value="Generate a random one instead" />
</form>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>(Note: If some parts of the article confuse you, you might want to look at <a href="http://mediawatch.quora.com/Indian-Express-mixes-up-P-B-Srinivas-with-Srinivas" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">this</a>.
</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Also, this piece was inspired by the <a href="http://www.chutneycase.com/2010/03/chetan-bhagat-plot-generator.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Chetan Bhagat Plot generator</a> at Coconut Chutney</i></span><i style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">)</i></div>Suchithrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03469564593577609479noreply@blogger.com4