The guests have left - both short and long term ones. A and I have the house to ourselves after nearly a year; we are slightly unsure what to do now. The bank holiday weekend started off with a marathon cleaning spree - almost a means of reclaiming the house for ourselves. After that successful experiment, we now feel a bit better. Things are back in the places we would like to have them, the mess is self created and hence invisible to the eye.
We are also acutely aware of the fact that this peace, quiet and tranquility is going to be short-lived and that we have just about 5 and a half months of it to ourselves. And that although we are still thinking of ourselves as the 'two of us', in a few months its going to be all about the 'three of us'. This thought comes with mixed emotions. While we are excited to bits that we are having a baby, there is a part of us that wants to hold on to each other for a little longer.
We had our first scan last week and saw the little one jumping about, waving, doing all kinds of unimaginable things inside. We nearly yelled with joy. Excited and hungry, we went to our favorite Thai joint for a celebratory lunch - we just couldn't stop smiling - that little bundle of joy was our creation - we had created her/him (don't know yet) all by ourselves!
Oh, if only I could pop some champagne right now! As it is, will have to make do with orange juice for the moment! :-)
Monday 25 August 2008
Sunday 10 August 2008
Religion, intolerance, fear and bananas
Given my present physical and mental state, I have little patience with many things that I would previously have 1. ignored, 2. laughed at and ignored, 3. silently abused the perpetrator and ignored. Since I am unable to do any of the above now, I fret and fume and drive myself into an angry frenzy. While I continue to look forward to an end to this disturbing state, allow me to narrate this one incident to you, and you can judge me as you like.
A 'friend' is staying with us at the moment. Please note, I use the term 'friend' in the loosest possible sense. This friend had previously exhibited great interest in reading, especially thrillers. Now you know that I am not the biggest thrill-seeker, but I was instantly reminded of Mohsin Hamid's The Reluctant Fundamentalist. I have recently read it and would recommend it to anyone who claims to have a passing interest in the written word and the contemporary world order. My friend claimed he was interested in both. I heartily gave him my copy.
This happened a couple of days back. In the meanwhile, I noticed that Hamid had been kept aside and his place had been taken by a suspense thriller that has accidentally found its way into my book shelves, I know not from where. I thought perhaps Hamid's style did not agree with my friend's taste and left it at that. Not everyone has to like everything I read - not everyone has to like Hamid.
So it came as a nasty surprise to me when my friend approached me a couple of hours ago and said, "Can you give me something to read, something completely in the nature of fiction, something simple and lighthearted." While I scanned my bookshelves and selected mentally a list of options, he went on to add, "and please, nothing of the kind where a Muslim bugger is telling his story." My thoughts stopped dead in their tracks. EXCUSE ME? I shouted in my head - suffice it to say, I would have had a fight then and there if I could.
While A distracted the friend with something inoffensively un-Islamic, a sequence of incidents that have happened over the last few days rushed through my mind. The mild censoring of my choice of music (Sufi=Islamic according to some), the constant reference to one strand of my ancestry, and the constant praises showered on the deep-rootedness and past and present glories of the Dravidian culture have all been adding up to this moment. In the midst of the anger and disbelief, one question bothered me most - why does it bother me so much?
So I am technically a Hindu. But to be honest, I have been brought up in such a mixed environment of religions, atheism and cultures that I truly don't care for these identities anymore. I seamlessly blend into both religious and non-religious groups. The concept of god is more utilitarian than anything else. More than anything else, both A and I believe in being and doing good, minding our own business and accepting people with all their diversities. What is so wrong with that?
Perhaps that is why I cannot tolerate intolerance. What right does anyone have to consider him/herself better than another person? You may not agree with the views of a 'Muslim bugger' but how rigid are you that you won't even hear his views? And you believe yourself to be a good human being? I am afraid, definitions of 'good' appear to be very different.
After agonising over this issue, it was decided that the only what to settle the mind and the rumbling tummy was with a banana. At least the banana doesn't care who eats it, Hindu or Muslim. And it soothes my nerves and tummy despite my questionable taste in music. I say we should have a religion based on nature, a religion that is nurturing and uplifting like Abida's singing, rainbows, bear hugs and bananas. Who knows, religion might actually be of some use to humanity then.
A 'friend' is staying with us at the moment. Please note, I use the term 'friend' in the loosest possible sense. This friend had previously exhibited great interest in reading, especially thrillers. Now you know that I am not the biggest thrill-seeker, but I was instantly reminded of Mohsin Hamid's The Reluctant Fundamentalist. I have recently read it and would recommend it to anyone who claims to have a passing interest in the written word and the contemporary world order. My friend claimed he was interested in both. I heartily gave him my copy.
This happened a couple of days back. In the meanwhile, I noticed that Hamid had been kept aside and his place had been taken by a suspense thriller that has accidentally found its way into my book shelves, I know not from where. I thought perhaps Hamid's style did not agree with my friend's taste and left it at that. Not everyone has to like everything I read - not everyone has to like Hamid.
So it came as a nasty surprise to me when my friend approached me a couple of hours ago and said, "Can you give me something to read, something completely in the nature of fiction, something simple and lighthearted." While I scanned my bookshelves and selected mentally a list of options, he went on to add, "and please, nothing of the kind where a Muslim bugger is telling his story." My thoughts stopped dead in their tracks. EXCUSE ME? I shouted in my head - suffice it to say, I would have had a fight then and there if I could.
While A distracted the friend with something inoffensively un-Islamic, a sequence of incidents that have happened over the last few days rushed through my mind. The mild censoring of my choice of music (Sufi=Islamic according to some), the constant reference to one strand of my ancestry, and the constant praises showered on the deep-rootedness and past and present glories of the Dravidian culture have all been adding up to this moment. In the midst of the anger and disbelief, one question bothered me most - why does it bother me so much?
So I am technically a Hindu. But to be honest, I have been brought up in such a mixed environment of religions, atheism and cultures that I truly don't care for these identities anymore. I seamlessly blend into both religious and non-religious groups. The concept of god is more utilitarian than anything else. More than anything else, both A and I believe in being and doing good, minding our own business and accepting people with all their diversities. What is so wrong with that?
Perhaps that is why I cannot tolerate intolerance. What right does anyone have to consider him/herself better than another person? You may not agree with the views of a 'Muslim bugger' but how rigid are you that you won't even hear his views? And you believe yourself to be a good human being? I am afraid, definitions of 'good' appear to be very different.
After agonising over this issue, it was decided that the only what to settle the mind and the rumbling tummy was with a banana. At least the banana doesn't care who eats it, Hindu or Muslim. And it soothes my nerves and tummy despite my questionable taste in music. I say we should have a religion based on nature, a religion that is nurturing and uplifting like Abida's singing, rainbows, bear hugs and bananas. Who knows, religion might actually be of some use to humanity then.
Friday 8 August 2008
The reluctant fundamentalist
The back cover of this book described it as a thriller. While I don't particularly fancy that genre, something about it intrigued me and I decided to give it a shot. And I was truly rewarded for the experimentation.
How does a high flying, young Pakistani man look at the politics of the world unfurling around him? What does really matter, at the end of the day, when you close your eyes and will yourself to be true to yourself? Can the fear in one instill hatred in another? Can the east and the west ever truly understand where they are coming from, what makes them what they are?
The book is a brilliantly crafted piece of work, written in the polite conversational tone of a Pakistani host. It beautifully showcases the west from the eyes of an Asian, whose family has seen both glorious days and abject poverty. Mohsin Hamid vividly describes the coming to grips with love and life in the west and the failure of both to live up to one's expectations. If there is one bit that I felt could have been more clearly sketched out, it was the protagonist's internal conflict, why he chose to keep the beard and everything related to it. Its there for you to see and feel and understand, but its not spelt out. So you give it the colours that you see it in. Nothing wrong with that, just that I would have liked to see it from the author's perspective, given his exceptional insight everywhere else in the book.
Another little bit of interest was the tangential reference to India and the perceived threat from India. It was very interesting indeed to see things from the other side, their fears and apprehensions, in a clearly unstable world.
Does the book justify terrorism? Can anything justify terrorism? Not really, in my opinion. But it gives a powerful account of one young man's journey in the quest for self-realisation, and his decisions, for better or worse. I'm really glad I picked this one up - couldn't put it down till I had finished it.
How does a high flying, young Pakistani man look at the politics of the world unfurling around him? What does really matter, at the end of the day, when you close your eyes and will yourself to be true to yourself? Can the fear in one instill hatred in another? Can the east and the west ever truly understand where they are coming from, what makes them what they are?
The book is a brilliantly crafted piece of work, written in the polite conversational tone of a Pakistani host. It beautifully showcases the west from the eyes of an Asian, whose family has seen both glorious days and abject poverty. Mohsin Hamid vividly describes the coming to grips with love and life in the west and the failure of both to live up to one's expectations. If there is one bit that I felt could have been more clearly sketched out, it was the protagonist's internal conflict, why he chose to keep the beard and everything related to it. Its there for you to see and feel and understand, but its not spelt out. So you give it the colours that you see it in. Nothing wrong with that, just that I would have liked to see it from the author's perspective, given his exceptional insight everywhere else in the book.
Another little bit of interest was the tangential reference to India and the perceived threat from India. It was very interesting indeed to see things from the other side, their fears and apprehensions, in a clearly unstable world.
Does the book justify terrorism? Can anything justify terrorism? Not really, in my opinion. But it gives a powerful account of one young man's journey in the quest for self-realisation, and his decisions, for better or worse. I'm really glad I picked this one up - couldn't put it down till I had finished it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)