Wednesday, August 18, 2010

The Beggar at the Roadside

Who has ever thought of how a beggar on the roadside has his food? Have you ever wondered about how the woman on the street with her child makes both ends meet in her life? Oh yes. You will have ready made answers. They beg. They go for prostitution... I think that is as unfair as someone calling you a 'bas**rd.' Since those human beings live on roads, anyone can assume anything about them? Can I talk so bad about them just because they are not privileged enough to respond to me? Again, it is unfair. If I don't know what a man on the road eats, a woman on the road does, how those children grow up, I don't have the rights to make conclusions on them. What do I know? Nothing, except that they exist in a pathetic condition.

I have often wondered about the meaning of happiness. Does this meaning change according to circumstances? What a rich human does for joy is not what a middle class person would do. Certainly a beggar wouldn't do what a middle class man does. But the outcome is the same- happiness. Does that mean that there are different kinds of happiness? Rich, middle class and poor happiness? This would bring a smile onto everyone's face, I am sure, because all of us know that even if that which brings happiness is different, happiness itself would be the same everywhere.

This universality of happiness prompts me to ask this question: "what then does it matter, whether you are poor or rich?" I know very well that this question would be dismissed as a rhetorical one. But don't you see a pinch of reason in there? If yes, kindly foster your humanness. If not, kindly try be human!!!

Coming back to those who beg, I am still confused about who is happy and who is not. The traditional and religious teaching would talk endlessly of the joy and peace of possessing less- less luggage, more comfort. The one who begs not only suggests that the other possesses more, but also accepts that he/she possesses less. In other words, an empty hand and the not-so-clean face behind it yells at you that you are unhappy because you possess more. The eyes that sparkle at the coin you toss at him/her also challenges you to become equal to him/ her.

Radically speaking, all are invited to become beggars. Possessions create unhappiness. Possessiveness creates unhappiness. But that unhappiness is liked by people. If the ultimate goal of life is happiness, the most successful life would be that of beggars. The next time you see one, give or don't give a coin, but do it with some respect, because they are more successful than you...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday, August 15, 2010

What I feel...

Is it important to say what I feel?
It is. It isn't. 
Both are answers...
But don't know which one is right.
Let me try to put words into my feelings.

A vast area of land, full of sand.
Every inch of it is covered with red flowers.
Gulmohar flowers.
They fell from trees which are not there.
The ground is red, or Red makes the ground!

Red is more red at some places.
Which doesn't mean red is less red in other places.
Everything is red, except the horizon,
Which, like a basket covers the horizon of red.
Does it remind you of something?

It does, if you ask me...
A heart that bleeds so, that smiles so.
A land thats Red so, a Blue that covers so.
I remember the day when the heart broke,
When the Sun went black with cloudy tears.

In my ears it rings, still, like it is now,
When eyes bled to death rose the moon.
To shine on a sky that meant nothing.
Stood I, in the expanse; no ground, no sky.
I can think of it now. Yes, think!

The land. It's still red with flowers of trees that aren't there.
Red they say is the colour of... you know what...
They also say, blood is blue when it flows in heights!
Therefore I find no word to fill the fifth line...

---------------------------------------------------------

The Chicken Cage

Scene 1

Around 1 am. Near Sagar stores, EFL University. There are many students around the store and the coffee stall. Hot discussions on some topic, loud laughter, hushed voices, coffee falling into cups, etc. is heard. Camera sees all these as the establishing shot sweeps a 360o shot round the area f.
Richie is sitting under the tree near the coffee shop, enjoying a cup of coffee. He is a second year BA student at EFLU. Red T-Shirt with quote “Let it go the way it does” on it, Cargo Jeans, expensive shoes. Camera rolls round the corner and zooms into him and focus goes beyond and behind him. He looks carelessly at people around him, trying to measure and understand why they do what they do!
After a few minutes, a girl walks up from the coffee stall, comes and sits next to him, sipping a cup of coffee. She is Ganga and she has joined MA English the other day and is staying at the hostel. She is wearing a green churidar. She has long hair and fair complexion. In one hand, she has an old fashioned mobile phone and a hand bag. Leaning over her knees, she too has a look over the random crowd at Sagar stores and the chairs around. Feeling the chill of the night and enjoying the hot steam of the coffee, she looks at Richie. He is still meditating, - a semi-philosopher look! Ganga wants to strike a conversation with him.
She put her phone and coffee down, took out a pack of cigarettes from her handbag and lit it using a lighter. Hesitantly, but trying to sound confident, Ganga asked Riche with a smile: “Wanna have a puff?”
Suddenly pulled out of the world of thought, Richie looked at her half in wonder, half annoyed. Trying to hide his annoyance, he said, “No thanks, I don’t smoke...”
Ganga felt drawn back, and the expression on her face changes to one of embarrassment. Looking away, she had a long puff from her menthol cigarette. A novice smoker, she coughed enough after the puff. Richie looks at her with a feeling of disbelief and contempt, possibly thinking why she is smoking. He was wondering how to respond.
When she was ok, he said, extending his hand, “Hi, I am Richie, Second year BA Spanish.”
Ganga (shaking hands with him): I am Ganga, first year MA English.”
The conversation looked to have reached a dead end. Two perfect strangers connected just by a hand shake had nothing much to exchange. But she didn’t seem to have done with the chat.
Throwing the empty coffee cup away, she had one more puff. She said, “I like it here...” Her eyes were sparkling as she said this, looking up into the wide blue sky studded with stars. She felt that the starry sky and the highly populated EFLU were equally wide and spacious. A breeze swept past them, playing with her hair. Richie notes that she is beautiful. Adjusting the stray locks of hair with her left hand, she said: “I meant the freedom here... I feel great...”
Richie felt uncomfortable as his privacy was forcefully intruded into, yet was curious to listen to this ‘senior’ student. So he said, “Hmm... It’s great in here...”
Feeling the chill again, crossing her arms together, she agreed nodding. It was nearing 1 am. Still the campus was alive with young voices laughing the night away in defiance of the unjust world order! Some were seen alone, but most in duos or small groups. Happiness was the hovering feeling. Dogs were around too! The tree near the store swayed in the breeze as if it enjoyed the freedom too! She continued to think aloud for Richie.
Ganga: “See how free we are over here! We can even get out of our rooms and roam about after 7 ‘O clock in the evening! It’s so freaking free. I love it here...”
Richie couldn’t but stare at her face listening to her statement. Behind them, a group of boys and girls laughs loudly on some joke, and is seen in the frame.
Throwing the cigarette butt away, she continued to talk about the freedom and the difference between her home town and campus. As she speaks, camera zooms into the dying cigarette butt from behind both of them. The cigarette slowly dies off, breathing its last. “My parents never allowed me to get out of home after school. It was like a jail and I always wanted to see the night world. Here I am getting a taste of what it is like........”
As she speaks, the camera sweeps through their faces, onto the crowd at the shop, dogs, then to the tree and wide focuses into the sky, ending the sequence. Her voice is mixed with mellow music which prevails even after the sky fills the screen.

Scene 2

Ganga’s home. Medium sized traditional tiled house, beautifully maintained surroundings, kennel by the side, cow shed and chicken cage behind. House is painted white. An old man- Ganga’s grandfather- is sitting in the sit-out on his traditional wooden easy chair, chewing pan. He is near75, wears white banyan and dhoti and a white towel on the shoulder.
Old man: “Thoda pani lao...”
Voice from inside: “Aathi hoon...”
Old man takes the vessel by the side of the chair and spits into it.
Ganga comes out with a lota of water. She is now wearing traditional dress- long skirt, blouse and a shall. Face is not as relaxed as in the previous scene. She is certainly uncomfortable in the present circumstances. Face down, she hands over the lota to her grandfather. As she does it, she pulls the edge of the shall over her head and respectfully turns around to go in.
She is suddenly startled by the grandfather’s voice. He says, “Jao, raat hone se pehle sab murgi ko pinjra me band kar do”
Nodding again, Ganga goes into the house silently, head down and disappears into the darkness.
The back door of the house is in wide focus. It opens slowly with creek sound and from the darkness, Ganga emerges with a kerosene lamp in hand. Only her face is lit in the dark frame. Sound of moths is heard in the background. Camera follows her as she walks into the courtyard towards the cage. Chicken are all around the cage, except one. She urges all others into the cage in hushed voice. After the last one gets in, she closes the cage and bolts it from inside.
While she bolts the little wooden door, the frame also should contain the chickens which are inside the cage, in the scarcely available light. Their sound, that of moths and the silence in between. Simultaneously, the dialogue from the previous sequence is heard in the background (with echo effect): “I like it here...” “I meant the freedom here... I feel great...” “Hmm... It’s great in here...” “See how free we are over here! We can even get out of our rooms and roam about after 7 ‘O clock in the evening! It’s so freaking free. I love it here...”
As the dialogue is heard, she goes back into the house. She is shot from behind; light is only in front of her, showing only a faint silhouette of her form. She gets into the house and closes the door. As she closes the door and darkness fills, the voice of dialogue too ends. Only moths are heard now. Camera pans and zooms into the chicken cage, and fades into darkness.

---------------------------------------------------

Saffron Catholics of Kerala

Recently, a few Catholic dioceses in Kerala have been making statements and movements favouring right wing political parties. Some of these ...