The Partition, and What it Means to an Unconcerned Indian

It’s time to grieve.

Because it looks like the Great Britain I’ve known since forever and have adored, will stop being.

I know nothing of English politics. Or the politics of Scotland. Hell, I don’t even know the politics of the country I call home. (That, I don’t care for much)

It won’t affect me in any way, but I will grieve if Great Britain breaks.

Ever since I remember, Great Britain has been a huge part of India. Whatever India is today, is partly everything the British gave us. From food, to railroads, to pants and shirts — everything that the modern Indian society takes for granted, is borrowed from the British. Oh and the Literature!

It’s so deeply etched in Indian history that it pains to think that the name that made us, will be no more. Over the years, I’ve come to look at Great Britain as the forerunner of what we are today.

Yes, we hate the British for insulting Mother India, for using our men for cheap labor, and all other crap Indians say on Independence day. But, the image of Great Britain is still something I look up to.

Jokes of the partition, saying who’d get Hogwarts after the partition, are far from funny – even for a HP fan. Come to think of it, I’ve always imagined the Big Ben as the icon of Britain, and I’m guilty of overlooking the 2 other countries that completed the name.

The Scots want their country identified, to step away from the shadow they’ve been in for 300 years. They have every right to vote for — I’m even a little surprised it didn’t happen sooner. They’ll face a lot of challenges as a separate country, and that’s only natural. But in time, Scotland will be a stable country, and I wish them well.

But that doesn’t mean I am not disappointed. The British name has affected more than Scotland. Soon a lot of Wikipedia articles will be altered, and starting there, we’ll see less and less of Great Britain and Britishness.

It’s no easy partition. Psychologically.

These Are a Few My Favourite Books

I’ve been into books for a long time, and over time, I’ve had a lot of favourites. These books made, completed my childhood, and some of them I still turn to whenever I’m tired of the world. (Which is, a lot of times)

So, when I realized that IndiSpire had the perfect prompt for this week, I decided to take the plunge. Here’s a list of 10 of my favourite books. In no particular order,

1. Poems for Pleasure: I love reading poetry. I don’t know why exactly, but there’s a sense of peace that engulfs me whenever I curl in a corner with this book. There’s also a sentimental value to this book – my mother bought this in a second hand sale ages ago, and she gave it to me when I first started writing.

2. Tuesdays with Morrie: I watched the movie first and was so impressed when I learnt this was a book. It’s a small, simple book, but it’s so relatable. You can’t help but agree with the ideas expressed in the book. It’s quite amazing what an ALS patient has to tell the world. Wonder what Morrie would say about the Ice Bucket Challenge?

3. Harry Potter and the Order Of the Phoenix: It’s not the only HP book I like, but there’s something about Harry’s fifth year that strikes me hard. I remember not wanting to read this after I heard of Sirius death in this part. But ever since I read it, my love for Sirius has only increased.

4. Eragon – #1 of The Inheritance Cycle: I was so surprised when I read that Christopher Paolini was only 15 when he finished the first draft of this book. This isn’t the best book I’ve ever read, but it is a special book. I was captivated by the simplicity of the narrative. Surprisingly, Eldest (#2) and Brisingr (#3) weren’t that great. And I didn’t read Inheritance (#4)

5. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: I can’t claim that I’ve read all of the Sherlock Holmes adventures, but of the few I’ve read – I’ve never been so impressed. What an amazing man, Sherlock Holmes! Everytime I think about Sherlock’s powers of deduction, I can’t help but imagine what kind of a man Arthur Conan Doyle would’ve been!

6. Agatha Christie: Again, I haven’t read all of Agatha Christie (quite impossible, actually) But of the ones I did read, I was impressed with her writing and the complexities of her plots. “Minute,” that’s how I describe her crimes. Particularly, The Mirror Crack’d from Side to Side. No wonder she’s the Queen of Crime!

7. A Christmas Carol: This is the first book I ever reviewed. Once in our English class, we were asked to write about “my favourite book,” and I chose this. That’s when I first learnt that when you write about something you’ve read, you get better at explaining your thoughts.

8. Les Misérables: I stayed up until 4 AM reading this book. It was a translated copy of Penguin Publications that I had borrowed from my school library. Great story, and the quotes are still etched deep in my memory: “Unwitting innocence is sometimes more penetrating than cunning.”

9. Wuthering Heights: A love story like no other. I often wonder how the literary world would be if Emily Bronte had written more than just this one book. But perhaps that’s her greatness: one book that shook the world. This book remains my favourite story of love to this date, no competition.

10. Enid Blyton’s classics: Childhood is incomplete without Enid Blyton. What hasn’t she written about? Adventure series, The Famous Five, Secret Seven and The Find-Outers mysteries, The Malory Towers and St. Clares for school goers to relate to. And so many other books every child should enjoy.

The list doesn’t end with these books though. There are countless other books that didn’t make the list, but still deeply affected my life.

Remember the Tinkle Digest? Suppandi, Shikari Shambhu, Tantri the Mantri and all those comic characters that made boring days bearable – ah, this prompt makes me nostalgic.

Why I Ditched Earphones

I’m a musicaholic. I’m probably exaggerating, but you get the idea; I love listening to music. But then again, who doesn’t, right?

But, I ditch my ear phones — when I walk home.

I’m always plugged in at work — makes it easier to ignore a lot of people; all I have to do is stare at the screen like I’m too involved to talk or hear others talking. Drowns out a lot of disturbances too.

Anyway, I don’t plug in when I’m walking home. No, it’s not like a walk in the park, it’s not peaceful, not quiet and it surely isn’t enjoyable. And no, I don’t have company.

Walking in Chennai streets (during peak hours, with the vehicles racing by honking and blaring their headlight into your eyes) is like walking towards death. Not only in terms of accidents, but there’s the risk of hyper tension — which leads to a more painful death.

When I first started using the iPod, I was so excited to walk with my favourite music ringing in my ears. It was funny, to look at people’s faces as they rush to and from buildings with painful expressions. It was a kind of entertaining to watch them all in mute. Sounds a little evil? Well, the music was only self defence — it greatly improved my mood.

But soon enough, things changed. I saw a lot of girls, all plugged in and walking rigidly. They didn’t seem to be enjoying the music, their faces were filled every emotions but joy. It was odd. Perhaps they were afraid to smile when their favourite song played, scared because poeple would judge — that happens quite often, people are always looking for reasons to make others feel like shit.

And then it happened to me too. I don’t care about what others think of me, it happens to me all the time that I’m used to it now.

It bothered me more that I was getting distracted. I was always plugged in; at work, at the gym, and while walking home, soon after. The result: I had stopped actually listening to the music.

I never wanted that.

My mind was filled with other thoughts — general feelings, conversation replays, dinner, family, work, people, more people and people I hate being around.

Practically everything but the music that played in my ears. That hardly happened before, I used to be able to sit at length without thinking of anything. But the music broke that.

It was freedom — like never before. My earphones drowned the rest of the world, and suddenly reality was gone. I didn’t need to make conscious effort to ignore the world, it was easier to get into my own thoughts.

It mightn’t sound so bad, but it made no sense. I plugged in for the pleasure of music, and suddenly I couldn’t enjoy it. What’s the point?

So I decided to ditch the earphones. Now I can enjoy the music for what it is, and still drift away from reality whenever I want to — without using music as a distraction.

Makes sense?

Friends ended, and I don’t know what to do with my life anymore

That was my first thought. When I started watching the final season of Friends, I could feel the close coming closer. And I wasn’t thrilled.

The last couple of episodes were the hardest, and it didn’t help that they were also extremely funny. I had to literally cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud; my mother was asleep nearby.

Yes, stayed up all night, watching Friends. Not just the nights, that’s how I spent my weekends and even this year’s friendship day.

And I’m not even sorry.

Because I liked it. I loved sitting alone, watching Friends, laughing my head off and scaring other people. I didn’t care, I didn’t have time to. I was too involved – and for the first time in a really long time, I was laughing heartily.

Not just the laughter, but also the thrill, the emotions. I felt myself changing as I watched the show. I started to laugh at my silliness more often. I could see the humor in awkwardness and embarrassment. And it was less painful.

I’m not one to get emotional over movies and drama, but Friends was an exception. Every passing minute of the last few episodes, there was a lump in my throat, something new weighing down heavily. When the climax neared, when all six of them left their keys to Monica’s apartment on the table – that’s when it really hit me. What am I going to do with my life now? It’s like my whole life had been leading to that moment, as if that was the driving force that kept me coming back for more – and now it was over. It was hard to accept. It was an unwelcome change.

And ever since the end, I can’t help reminiscing. The one obviously similarity favourite of the show: Joey Tribiany.

The one who doesn’t share food, makes it obvious and still is lovable.

I love Joey, but Chandler was a close contestant too. I’m a great fan of wit and sarcasm, and Chandler was the perfect embodiment of both. Plus, I could relate to his character in a lot of ways. The skepticism, cynicism, the uncertainty and most important, the fact that he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life.

The whole show was easy to connect to. That’s probably why it was such a huge hit. But more than anything, the show made a lot of people yearn for such a life, such friends.

Everyone would’ve felt jealous of the Joey-Chandler friendship. Not to mention the special connection Joey had with Phoebe. I was surprisingly moved when Joey asked Phoebe to marry him, when he (falsely) thought she was pregnant. It wasn’t funny, it was heartfelt, and small incidents like this throughout the show showed us how deep Joey was. Not just him, Chandler too – how much he changed through the course of the show. And Rachel – from being a spoiled brat to a responsible?! mother.

Of all life lessons I took from the show, one important thing was that people can always surprise you. Even those you think are least likely to do something that moves you, they do. More times than we may anticipate.

You know what? I think I just figured what I could do now. Im going to Google for image quotes and laugh like a maniac, while others around me go berserk.

The Indian Father

Every fathers’ day, you’ll see posts on Facebook saying how great a dad is. It’s no big deal; it’s just one day. Some people don’t mind just clicking the like button and moving on.

But I do.

Every time I come across a post like that, I feel annoyed. I don’t have any foreign friends, so here’s what my Indian friends post:

The capitalized ‘K’ and the simplified ‘p’ will vary, but — you get the idea. I take one look at these posts, and I’m like, “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Is that supposed to impress your father? I know it won’t impress my father and lot others’ too — from what I’ve seen.

Here’s how a typical Indian, or rather South Indian father would react: “What do you mean ‘I will find my prince?’ Does that mean that the right to choose a good man to take care of you doesn’t rest with us anymore?” — Fathers’ diction sounds awfully funny in a blog post, but that’s how they say it. Particularly when it comes to ‘lifelong commitment.’

OK, I’m no princess, so I’ll leave the prince and king alone. Let’s talk normal daughter’s life and arguments with her father. Here’s a regular day’s conversation.

When I want to go out with my friends, I have two options:

Not tell my father, and feel guilty.
Get his permission and go happily.

Yes, I have to ask him. Even though I’m twenty, my parents are responsible for me until I get married, after which the husband will take over the position. (I know, what a whole load of crap!)

So, here’s me asking for permission.

“Pa, I want to go out with my friends.”

He’ll look up at me, real slow. Our eyes meet. He heaves a sigh, (nope. Not exaggerating) and then asks, “Do you really, absolutely, have to go? Besides, can’t you go on another day? It’s already late…”

By the time he finishes, he thinks that he’s convinced me not to go. And unless you want a big row and a lot of racket that’s bound to wake your neighbours, who will later advise you on how wrong it is to go out with friends after 5, you’d rather cancel the plan. Or just your plan; your friends will still go without you. Never mind that they lied to their parents, never mind that their parents are miraculously not like yours. You’re just not going.

It’s your life. Deal with it.

Here’s the hardest part: you can’t completely blame the fathers. Being a father of a girl isn’t easy. Not in a place like India. You have to take a lot of bullshit, and it’s hard not to conform to society.

Here, we still have a society that considers a girl child as a pain. No, they love to have a daughter. Most people even keep their girl babies nowadays; killing is slowly being forgotten. You’ll even see cases where parents hope for a girl child.

But girls are also an added responsibility. According to our society, a girl brings out the best in a father. He’ll take on responsibilities, and try to prove the differences between a father and a dad.

All these are just what the society expects of a man when he becomes a girl’s father.

The father doesn’t ask for these expectations. Neither does the daughter. But everyone expects that, because that’s what real gentlemen do. They pamper their daughters and help them in life. It starts with homework, goes on to the subject she chooses in high school, and finally ends with the person she marries. That’s how a father should act.

Society laughs at any father who lets his daughter experiment in life, or something like this: “How can you let your daughter go trekking alone with her friends? There’ll be boys, how can you be sure she’s safe?”

That’s enough for anyone to panic, and my father is a simple man. So wherever I go, he needs me to call him back once I’ve safely locked myself inside the house.

Safety is a big issue, and it isn’t just in fathers’ heads. It’s in the news as well. Girls abducted, harassed and raped randomly, throughout the country. No place is safe. Not Delhi, not Bangalore, not Chennai. If metropolitan cities are bad, then there’s no asking what’s going on in small towns and villages.

That’s why fathers are so overprotective. And it just breaches the father-daughter relationship. Any daughter will be disappointed with her father when he deprives her the freedom she deserves. Being a girl, and knowing the outside world isn’t safe enough, is just depressing.

So a father’s next best option would be to get her married off as soon as possible. As much painful as it is, fathers and society look at it as a way of ‘ridding the responsibility of taking care of a girl.’

Society to the aid. Again! “How much dowry can you afford for your daughter?”

Oh yeah, because sending a girl over to your house to serve your family is just isn’t good enough as gold.

A lot of fathers just convince themselves against the dowry argument. “It’s our tradition. Don’t think of it as dowry, think of it as a contingency plan. Your daughter can use this money when she urgently needs it.”

Poor fathers. They just give in to society’s pressures, and end up a disappointment, even to the daughters they gave up so much for.

Any non-Indian fathers out there? Tell us how life’s like for you. I’m curious.

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