Tag: conflict

The Rope Car Ride

“Oh, rope car. Would’ve been a great experience, huh?”

When I heard we’d be riding on a rope car, my imagination went wild. For about five seconds, every thriller and every adventure movie I had ever sat through flashed in front of my eyes. I thought of heroes hanging on a rope so weak that it would give away at any moment. And that image disappeared to be replaced with famous love scenes set in a fancy snow-capped mountain with the heroine banging her fists against the car’s glass while her evil father’s hunch men tortured her lover down below. I could even see her tears freezing in the icy cold.

ropeway

So when they told us to get on board, I shivered a little. From uncontrollable thrill. But as we approached the car, I saw that it showed no signs whatsoever of having carried a distressed Juliet pining for her Romeo. Why, it was just a hallow red box with glass panes for windows!

We climbed in and the guard locked the door shut. I looked around, it wasn’t what you’d call an average car. It was more like a small railway compartment. Only a little cleaner. Otherwise, it had similar flooring, the unmistakable “No Smoking” sign, and the — all-too-familiar — congestion.

They allowed about 20 people into one car. We all had some standing space and had to make some more to reach out for groupfies. I turned my focus to what mattered more: The experience of riding a rope car.

The noise gave it away. We were about to soar.

The me within me — the one who isn’t embarrassed to squeal in excitement or applaud in enthusiasm when in public — stood on the tip of her toes. This was bound to be a treat.

My friends had been shifting about talking in such excited tones that we didn’t realise when the car began moving. When we did, however, it was like someone had grabbed my treat away. We felt close to nothing. We were so-called soaring slower than my slowest walking pace.

But, I stuck to my corner, hoping to look down at the beautiful world below. I felt like the all-seeing, as if I couldn’t even miss that little girl in her school uniform being mean to a squirrel.

But I couldn’t see all.

rope car

All I could see was asbestos roofings and garbage strewn all over the land. It wasn’t worth standing by the window. There were no flowers and no lush greenery. The movies had misguided me. Again.

It was painful to look at the harsh reality of that corner of the city. It was all the more difficult to digest the sight because I know Gangtok is a tourist destination.

up above

But it is a city like any other. And where there are people, there’s bound to be a face you don’t see in brochures. Because that’s inevitable. People being people isn’t a pretty sight.

Having replayed that entire day in my mind, I turned to my father, and his question.

His eyes had lit up in awe. He looked thrilled at the idea of skirting through the sky, defying all known laws of gravity and Earth-binding responsibilities.

I looked into those ageing, black holes and replied, “Hell, yes!”

Choice

There comes a time
when you should choose
it may be new, may be raw
you may not like it
oh, but what if you do?
take the plunge
and make a choice
it might look weird,
awkward, and greasy
but who’s to say its not pretty
and a perfect circle?
Beware though: It’s unknown
it could make you regret
and reach for a cigarette
Or just become your favourite.
Either way — choose something
I’m hungry.

choice.jpg

The Animal Kingdom

During my recent trip to Darjeeling, I had the chance to visit the Padmaja Naidu Himalayan Zoological Park. And within it, a museum.

zoo 1

The zoo was wonderful, of course. With so many different animals basking within their “open cages,” monkeys chattering with each other from their enclosures, and parakeets of hundreds of kinds chirping notes too varied to comprehend.

Th kids in our group enjoyed every inch of that vast expanse of animal reserve, but to me, it was just a bigger cage than the usual ones. And yes, photography enthusiasts had a field day with all kinds of experiments. From point and shoot, the lighting, the macros, and zoom ins, to the last resort, auto focus — because all experiments headed downhill.

I always prefer odd-shaped rocks over humans, and flowers over wilder animals. But most other tourists preferred to point their cameras and thoughts at the big blue sheep. Which isn’t a bad way to spend a vacation. The animals were mesmerising, of course. I had never known that so many animals existed among the lesser ones.

I tried my hand at it photography too. I should have looked like a weird lunatic to all those pointing their cameras in the opposite direction — at a majestic tigress.

zoo

I was more keen on the little things that grew unknown, and uncared for. There’s so much beauty in crisp white petals striking through the dusty, brown leaves on the ground. So is the plump red fruit handing from what appeared to be a dying tree. The mysteries within those round and thin skins, the tiny, almost invisible, seeds, and the plush flesh of the fruit. Whatever is that fruit called? What if it just appeared irresistible, but would resist blood to your veins once you eat them? After all, poisonous berries do co-exist with the sweet ones. Not unlike us human folk.

One good thing about the park visit: It tempted my muse.

Telling Lies…

“My friends say fairies aren’t real, mama.”

— “Fairies do exist, dear. They spray their magic dust to make the flowers bloom.”

“These cookies are so tasty mama. Can I eat them all?”

— “Don’t, my boy. Leave some of the cookies for Santa. if you had been a good boy, Santa and his elves will leave you anything you asked for.”

“I’m scared, I don’t want to go to sleep.”

— “ Shh, it’s already past your bedtime. Wee Willie Winkie would be running through the town, checking if the kids are in their beds. Close your eyes now, and try to sleep.”

“Mama, what would I be when I grow up?”

— Disappointed.

Advice for the Modern Age

hamlet

Body shaming is a thing now. Having experienced it a few times myself, I can say it’s not new. For a long time now, the world has been mocking those who don’t have pear-shaped bodies.

One man has the best advice for those who shame other people. He lived well ahead of his time, hinging on the period he was born into, yet thriving even four hundred years later.

And how does he give us a his piece of mind? He shames his lover for a start.

“If hairs be wires, then black hairs grow on her head.”

That was, of course, in a time when blond curls ruled the day and any woman with straight hair was un-ladylike. Things have changed since, I know. Nowadays, people pay fortunes just to get their curly hair straightened. Nevertheless, body shaming hasn’t changed at all.

And then there’s this image of rosy cheeks and powder puff.

When I face my mirror, I know I have no rosy cheeks. There’s no chubbiness that every man’s supposed to like, there’s no colour, or flush, or blush. When I see myself in the mirror, I only see what shamers told me: A dull face, and cheeks too thin to be beautiful.

Shakespeare said it too:

“But no such roses see I in her cheeks.”

But here’s the question. Why would anyone expect a woman to look more like the sun and less like a woman? Why would anyone want a woman who resembles a child’s doll, when she’s stronger than that in real life?

Again, Shakespeare has the answer. And his answer — four centuries old though it is — is unmatched even in this age.

“And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare

As any she belied with false compare.”

To be or not to be a body shamer. That’s not the question anymore. No matter how much we compare a person, woman or man, to an image of perfection, it would be just that — an image. Pretty face and fair skinned, or spotted and dark skinned, there’s just a skull underneath.