Continuing a Debate

On the contrary, Sita does have the characters I aspire towards.

She is learned, rich, beloved of her parents.
She marries a valiant and handsome prince, one who is deserving of her and who must prove this worth.
She is loyal and loving and would rather live uncomfortably in forests with her husband than without him in the comfort of a palace.
She is playful and wants a golden deer.
She remains loyal to Ram during captivity.
She trusts Ram to remain loyal towards her. Upon rescue she does not demand an agni pariksha of him though she could have wondered what Ram had been up to while she was away.
Her trust matches her love.
After the washerman incident she leaves Ram's palace to never return.
Her self esteem is fiercer than her love.
She is proud and capable and does an excellent job at being a single parent.
Her sons can defeat kings, including their wise father, at war and at logics.
She is as intellegent as she is strong.
When Ram, harrowed by guilt, loneliness and love asks Sita to forgive and return to him she is willing to forgive but not forget.
She will not return. She will rather die.

Sita’s suicide makes me shiver.
Her pride makes me shiver.
The lies that are woven around her name makes me shiver.

I wasn’t taught to view her final act as anything but a supernatural episode. But perhaps, I think, when pestered by royalty she jumped into the river. Perhaps she walked away into a thick forest from which she never emerged. Perhaps she simply said no. Perhaps she said to her sons, choose, and they chose and so she left. Perhaps she said to Ram he was no longer worth her.

She is an admirable woman but I wouldn’t want to worship her, not because she is not worth the worship but because the centuries have distorted her image, made her weak, simplified her, forgotten her as anything other than Ram’s consort. The centuries have removed the complexity from the text.

If there is a temple for Sita, there should also be one for Draupadi.
Draupadi teaches me how I can continue to live in an unfair world without losing my place.
Why are children not named Draupadi?

I don’t want Sita to be a goddess in the same way I don’t want fire around children. Children are careless and mean and more often than not will create disaster with fire. They will set the house to fire. They will burn ants and butterflies.
I don’t want Sita to be a goddess the same way I don’t want fire around moths.
Moths will be fascinated with what they cannot handle.

Perhaps when we mature, perhaps when we can understand better, perhaps then we can return to Sita.
But for till then, I wouldn’t mind if her name and her tales were removed from our minds, completely, without a trace…

Some Old Songs

What I miss in the new songs is the honesty of the old lyrics and the simplicity of their music. The more I listen to new songs, the more I find myself going back to the older ones for their straight, stark poetry, the confidence with which an emotion was talked about and the poise with which an instrument was experimented with.

Even philosophy was unapologetic then. What can be more philosophical and preachy than sajan re jhoot mat bolo, khuda ke paas jaana hai, or nanhe munhe rahi teri mutthi mei kya hai? Mutthi me hai takdeer meri. And yet, it is just that, saying just that much and saying it clear and loud without any distracting, computerized music. I listen and I marvel.

Sad songs, of late, are so philosophical. But pure sadness…I wonder…when I listen to unapologetically sad songs like jaane wo kaise log the jinke pyaar ko pyaar mila, or ek akela is sheher main, or dil ke arman aansoonon mein beh gaye, or badi sooni sooni hai zindagi ye zindagi, or yeh duniya, ye mehfil mere kaam ki nahin… I cannot help but be surprised at how straight and to the point they are. These are intensely personal songs, sung from a subjective point of view, without ascribing a wider meaning to an individual’s grief.

And joy and attraction and a plethora of madness…I cannot help laughing everytime I listen to pag ghungru baandh meera naachi thi, and what the hell does kishore kumar do right before singing thodi si jo pee lee hai, chori to nahin kee hai…??? and the total chaos of mere bhole balam, and ek chatur naar, and if you haven’t heard In haathon se sabki gaadi chal rahi hai, wah wah, you absolutely have to because it is crazy!

And the sexiness of songs like paan khaye saiyan hamar, saavli suratiya aur hooth lal lal, hai hai malmal ka kurta, malmal ke kurte pe cheet lal lal !!!
What is as sexy as badan pe sitare lapete hue
What compliments better than ae meri Zohar Jabeen
What more energetic than chalat musaafir moh liya re or kajra mohabbat wala ankhiyon me aisa daala

The list could go on forever…I just discovered hum bekhudi mei from Kala Paani and have been humming, humming and humming!

Cauldron

The Mormons are not Methodists.

Suburbians look down upon city dwellers.
City dwellers think suburbians are snobbish.
There is an attitude towards community college students.
Private colleges have airs.
There are neighborhoods one should not enter.

Different societies in colleges : * Indian Student Association, African Student Association, Jewish Forum, Hispanic…

Indians love fair skins. They dislike Africans.
A major part of the African population is uneducated. They cannot stand the snobbish air these ultra educated Indians wear.

WASP
Red Necks.

FOBs

Liberals watch Fox News.
Republics watch…I don’t know what. Philadelphia is heavily Liberal.
Liberals and Republics never watch each other’s television networks or listen to one another’s radio.
It is impossible for the liberal and the republic to have a real conversation

One half of the population is pretty much a wall for the other half of the population.

A liberal and republic debate in an interesting talk show. They never answer each other’s questions. They only answer and counter answer themselves.

One half of the population has no idea what the other means.

My fiction teacher thinks the poetry department is stupid.
I don’t know what the poetry department thinks. I don’t hang out with the poetry department, not really.
Fiction and poetry do not really mix.

USA is a cauldron where nothing mixes.

Go to China Town. There are only Chinese there.

Catholic Church, the Mormon Church, the Jewish Christian Church, the Orthodox Church, Baptist Church, St John the Evangelist Church, African Methodist Church, Lutheran Church, Quaker Church – Churches, their names, their people. I have entered only two Churches, one the Lutheran Church to which my landlady belongs and which is plush with beauty. They sing choirs. They have an orchestra. They have an organ that blew my tiny mind. I feel rather tiny before its elegance. The other church, one to which my friend’s mother belongs (my friend does not belong to any church) is a simpler affair. It has no choir, no orchestra, no grand organs. It caters to poorer folks and comes forward in a poorer garb.
People, like liquids of different densities, do not mix. The poor do not enter the exemplified style of rich churches. The rich are not usually seen in poor people’s space of worship. The black stay confined to black churches. The Quakers don’t believe in the Catholics. The Lutherans will tell you what is wrong with the Quakers.
They are all Christians and united in Christianity.

You work. Work is worship.

If you like a girl, ask her out.
Rules of dating. # 1 – don’t call her for at least a week after you have told her you like her. If you can help it, don’t call her for two weeks. Don’t let her know you like her. Don’t let her suspect you want to share your precious space with her.

If you like a boy wait till he asks you out. It’s not cool to ask a guy out.

There is sexual equality in America. There are dating sites.

It sucks to be lonely so date. Date date date till you find your partner.
Don’t live with your parents. It’s not cool.

Be cultured. Like art, like poetry.
Be cool.