Not one but all for all

If the Indian society ever had to be compared to any food product, it would best qualify as a hamburger. Not just the single but double occurrence of the meat cutlet between the buns. The multiple layers in the Indian society form a hierarchy of social strata just like the tomato, bacon, cucumber, meat cutlet, onion, cheese slice, lettuce also repeating in the opposite order in some instances, form their hierarchy called burger. Both seem wobbly but still manage to stand still, look pretty. Eventually, when you take a bite, all the layers of junk submerge to the delight of your taste buds and it’s the taste of these submerged layers together that matters over the individual ones.

The Indian constitution is one of the longest in the world borrowing a few concepts from several Western constitutions (thus my comparison to the hamburger) and eventually forming an impressively unique constitution. We surely like to include and be everything from a democratic republic to a sovereign, socialist secular state. This inclines our society towards having a diverse nature which has given birth to several social and economic indicators, each comprising of layers. Any Indian college or university application form is a perfect representation of how many indicators of identity Indians have. Each of these indicators comprise of layers. It is only after filling one will you realize how many groups of community you belong to. The questions in the form will cover the social standing (i.e. layer) of a person in the context of religion to caste to the socio-economic background (i.e. the indicators) in the Indian society. Answering these strictly identity-categorizing questions will work in your favour most likely when you belong to the minority group that is the religious group the institution you are applying to, hails from. There is a rational behind this kind of categorizing which has made wonders in terms of expanding opportunities for the minority community but at the same it has left behind causalities along the way. These casualties belong to the General Category, a large chunk of layer belonging to undecided indicators. They do have their indicators but these aren’t in question here. They are the “general” Indians who are assigned only one indicator which is their academic merits while the non-general category might have “the merit tatkal” granting them quick entry. Why not assess all students on the relevant qualifications for the applied subject or job regardless of these indicators? Does the “General Category” have to be socially or religiously qualified to study something they have been toiling for a year or few?

The purpose of categorizing not just students but Indians even outside educational institutions can be worthy to defend but only to an extent. The idea of reservation has its angelic purposes to give equal opportunity to all but inadvertently it also creates a barrier between social communities just by naming caste or religion as a deciding factor in granting admission or a job. Why should caste or religion even be mentioned?  The argument could be that it does help a community build opportunities for their indigenous members. But couldn’t this also restrict them to eat the same “dal-chaawal” every day?  Why does any Indian have to reach a point where they have to rely only on their community for education or job opportunities? This might raise many questions and eye-brows. The point remains that building an India for a general category Indian, who is worthy of qualifying irrespective of the caste, religion or socio-economic background they belong to, will promise riches for the country. The efforts to make opportunity suited for every layer of the Indian society is commendable and rare. But simplifying the specific questions to one basic question that tests the individual’ aptitude, can put the deserving people in their deserving spots which can promise better prospects for every kind of Indian. Eradicating these divisions created by layers and treating all as belonging to just one layer may help. Lets stick to eating the hamburger as how gestalt has taught us and not make a “harm”burger out of it.

100 ways to show love

This is addressing an “intriguingly interesting” character, much to her dislike.

She is all the colors of the spectrum, every shade of white but sometimes just black. She reminds me of happy memories most of the times, well, almost. But what is more important about her that I remember is that she has the will to do whatever she likes without caring about second opinions. She listens and respects others’ judgments about her, but sorry second opinion holders; there is not much room for you guys in her monarchy. She is conscious about what familiar yet deceptive eyes conspire about her, still she manages to hold her own. She might fear speaking in public but she will voice every word of her thought in her mind when it comes to injustice either against her or anyone of her kind. I remember all the words that flow out of her brain when she counsels me. Every word is like a tarot card, be it in your favor or not it always ends up convincing you. The only difference is that her words actually make sense. She paints the reality for her patient.

She baffles me as to how she can express 10 moods in one day and yet hold the same charm and warm smile that she welcomed me with when I first met her. She might yell at or even slap you for being a bitch to her or yourself but the outcome of her bittersweet symphony always has a sweeter sound. That’s because she has 100 ways to show you how much she loves you. She is the only person who has shown me what being true to yourself can do for you by setting an example. She may think that she is not what she should be according to everyone around her but one thing I know that she is definitely true to herself. And that’s all that matters!

Someone with so much of love in her heart to give deserves a lot more. 

Genovese syndrome

Watch it burn, watch it cry

What you see isn’t a lie

Watch it pray, watch it yearn

Still it fails to quench its thirst

Watch it slip, Watch it fall

Watch until it drowns to the bed

Watch it shiver, watch it push

And ascend to the liquid rooftop

Do you even wonder what it’s like?

To be the one who’s watched by

Such a deceiving pair of eyes

Would you be a bystander or a soldier?

Just a witness with eyes or a witness with a name?

Does it hurt to scream or ache to run

Or are you just afraid of being the only one?

Why are they so concerned yet not so reachable?

They show noble priorities but live up to hypocrisy

That swallows modesty and honesty

 Which are only harbored by minority?  

Do you even wonder what it’s like?

To be the one who’s watched by

Such a deceiving pair of eyes

Which are better closed

Would you be a bystander or a soldier?

Just a witness with eyes or a witness with a name?

Does it hurt to scream or ache to run

Or are you just afraid of being the only one?

For the sake of numbers!

I am a 21 Year Old Kid. Yes I emphasize on kid because this number has really caught me off guard. 21 is malignantly pleasing especially the “1” in 21. It marks the beginning of some sort of individualization. A venture into self-discovery while you witness the evolution of the old adolescent self. You predict the near future with your so called realistic ideals because it's all about being practical then. But i say turn down the volume of this talk on consciousness. Thanks to Dostoevsky’s “Notes from the Underground” for a little didactic lesson about consciousness as an illness. Of course I can’t speak from that much of experience and thought that embittered him at his time but his thoughts have teased my thought process. One needs a little delusion. A little misguided trip to …… as long as it’s not the Bermuda Triangle. But what if the Bermuda Triangle is heavenly? What if people who are believed to be “disappeared” there disappeared for their own good? That’s a ridiculous thought you may think as the triangle is claimed not to exist but my intention here is to depict the metaphorical meaning. We all have our own Bermuda Triangles either both discovered and returned from with no fascination or frequently visited or well lived in and worn out or a dark continent or a “neverland”. Are we all living in it constantly and don’t know the exit because we are oblivious to the parallel alternative? Is there a parallel alternative? Are we already out of the triangle?  What are the peripheries of our triangles? I don’t know which category my Triangle falls into and how big it is but I do believe my triangle and its parallel exist in fact they co-exist. It’s the process of distinguishing between the triangle and the parallel alternative triangle that I have come to learn from the “one” in Twenty-One. This is how insane this number has driven me. I have sunk in my own mire in the preceding years of my Twenty-One years but in this “one” year somehow I feel or rather hope I am rising gradually to float above it.

I am aware that I just contradicted myself but this contradiction leads to my point which is that consciousness is like sour grapes. It’s disillusioning and spiteful, but at the same time essential to keep your foot on the ground. One needs to know the boundaries of their Bermuda Triangle and the return route. If there is no parallel alternate triangle then realize that there has to be one. On the other hand if there is no Bermuda triangle then create one. Create is a controversial word but it’s the right one because as you educate yourself about what reality is you must have a little elopement from reality too. A little bit of both is essential. That is what Mrs. Twenty and her child One have preached me.

Now the kid part. I say I am a twenty-one year old kid because I want to be that kid. While the twenty-one is “responsible” for handling the adulthood department, the kid is to “manage” and “maintain” the slight amount of childlike candid perspective and transparency we all need in order to preclude ourselves from utter despair. The “one” a.k.a the child has had me dumbfounded. Apart from teaching me a little lesson about the inter-marriage of reality and the bubble world she has also displeased me by revealing my incompetency. So now you know that I am irresponsible as I am not obeying “one’s” teachings just because those teachings exposed me to reality which consists of my incompetency.  Thus this pre-mature child called one and the kid are in the midst of a hostile environment. They demur each other but at the same time they need each other too. They are inter-related.

Alas! My attempt to dodge the word responsibility is botched and the siblings - management and maintenance just had to tag along! Why am I so embittered by the child “one”? It’s because she introduced me to responsibility and its function i.e. taking responsibility for my own blunders by admitting to them therefore accepting my incompetency. And the sad news is that I am incompetent in applying that responsibility. Here “Twenty” which was cornered all this while comes to the rescue as the mother, wisely representing my knowledge and faith. She supports “one’s” teaching. It’s not as ironic as is sounds because the child is introducing me to the  unexpected while twenty just like a mother helps in facing the unexpected by reminding me of all the knowledge I have gained from my experiences. All she emphasizes on is faith. That’s the pleasing part. It’s explained malignantly because we learn it that way. Thus we have sour grapes! At the end who doesn’t love grapes?

I shall conclude by elaborating on the “kid’s” role. The siblings – “management” and “maintenance” which the “kid” recalls after rummaging through my rotten memory of them, are gladly reacquainted with. This kid constantly alarms me about keeping my childlike innocence, more importantly maintaining it. Yes, maintenance shows the right way to keep that innocence. This innocence traces us back to those moral values classes taught in school. Values about transparency and honesty. This is where management steps in, the toughest part. All the lessons taught about reality and fantasy, responsibility, transparency and maintaining innocence are to be managed by the Twenty-One year old kid in order to be the Twenty-One Year Old Kid!

Dumbfounded

I believed,

My voice was the best medium of my expression,

 It out-shadowed my skill of using my ink,

But what would it speak and sing,

When its inferior failed to produce anything?

I believed,

It’s easier said than done,

It’s easier felt than expressed,

But how does one speak of the flawed deeds, so easily appealing?

And when not expressed how does one know the precise feeling?

I believed,

What stands in front of my vision, is viewed the way it stands,

But later did I know that one has to unfold many layers of pretence

To discover a truth never expected.

So how can a spectator save himself?

From the deceit he’s always welcomed with?