Book Review – The God Delusion, Richard Dawkins

Intense and interesting - that is how one can summarize 'The God Delusion'. Intense in the way it destroys the religious myths and muddled feelings in your mind; interesting in the way in which it does so, filling that empty space with worthy ideas and ideals.

No matter whether you're a theist, deist, pantheist, agnostic or an atheist, this is a book that you MUST read. It will end up changing your religious orientation, unless you're a dyed in the wool fanatic. Dawkins has a magical knack of predicting every question, every excuse and every doubt that might pop up in the minds of the readers and answers it well. As you keep reading it, you will find yourself astonished, muttering to yourself, 'Gosh! That was what exactly I was going to ask/was thinking/was wondering about'.

One loveable thing about this book is that Dawkins doesn't simply and bleakly question the religions and the reality of the god. He cleans all the cobwebs of religions away from your mind and fills it with refreshing ideas, morals and miracles. He proves that the universe is as miraculous as it is, without there being a need for a man (or, a woman, as I prefer to polemically put it) in the sky pulling the strings. He says that it is possible to live morally and ethically, without having to need some imaginary being looking over your shoulder and making a note of how you live, what you eat and what you say.

But, if you're a believer in god and would love to remain that way till the end, please DO NOT read 'The God Delusion'. Richard Dawkins will systematically destroy your belief system, without letting you safeguard your belief in any nook and corner. He predicts every other excuse and argument that the believers could come up with and detonates a blast right at the root of that.

Finally, as Richard Dawkins managed to change all the doubts in my mind into definite - at least for the time being - answers, I felt another question. Can anything and everything on this Universe be merely analyzed and laid down as mere scientific explanation? Should we desiccate the human mind by making the hope and mystery taken out of every aspect of 'faith'? What is wrong if some people believe in an imaginary god and still end up living truthful, worthwhile lives? Will not life lose its charm if we try to dissect and view everything as mere facts and logic?! For example, Love, the most charming of human emotions, can be explained in terms of physiology, psychology and bodily chemistry too. But won't the way of viewing love as an ordinary prelude to exchange body fluids and procreate progeny steal away all the magic and mystery from the human mind? And, in the process deprive us of those innumerable works of art, music, poetry and literature?!

Just a thought. Not an excuse for the imaginary ‘supreme being in the sky’ to ascent her throne in my mind again.

Ashok Krishna

Hues of Humans - Beggars

I happen to notice two beggars every time I go for a walk in the beach road. One of them sits in the subway that connects my road to the footpath on the beach. He sits calmly with his back to the wall, his artificial leg removed and placed by his side. He neither asks for alms nor raises his hands. But he simply looks at the passers-by, a look that conveys supplication and anticipation. Whenever someone deigns to spare him a coin, he simply folds his hands in respect and conveys gratitude by that simple act. He is someone who will make you believe that no matter how worse a fall people happen to suffer, their innate dignity can still hold true.

There is this other person who sits on the footpath a little farther away. His very appearance and attitude proves that he is a sloth and a wastrel. He simply bellows to the passers-by, calling them out like ‘brother’, ‘mother’, ‘girl’, ‘boy’, ‘sir’ and so on. Rotund and rugged that he is, not many people care to heed to his calls. And, he is someone who does not like to be treated that way. If you move ahead without paying him a coin, you can hear him mutter a curse against you under his breath. He is someone who seems to believe that the whole world is here to serve and satisfy his needs.

Every time I observe these two people, I just wonder. If two people, that too beggars who are normally considered as beings without dignity and character, can behave in two different extremes, what to say of the innumerable human beings that populate this planet?! How many hues and patterns will be there?!

Youth or Adult? Problem or Solution?

When we enter youthhood, with the rush of blood in veins and an indescribable energy surging along with it, we all try to act as 'angry young men' (or, women, as the case may be). We start questioning why are things this way instead of that way, why is there so much of injustice around, why are there so many wrong things when doing the right things is the easiest and noblest way to live, and so on. 

 

But, as we grow, we slow down. We mature. And, we start thinking in a different tone. We start turning those questions inward. If there is so much of injustice and stupidity, what is my part, what am I doing to change the status quo, am I adding to the idiocy around me or am I working to wipe out the same, am I adding to the woes or am I contributing to the cure, am I part of the cure or in team with the chaos and so on. 

 

I believe, may be, that is the age when youth enters adulthood. Being an youth or an adult is not merely about the surge of hormones or a change in appearances. But it is all about the maturity and wisdom that one gathers and implements in one's life. Some adults remain the part of the problem. And, some youth become the harbingers of solution and better ways of life. The immature ones choose to remain a part of the problems and complain. The mature minds decide to solve the problems and soar above!

Book Review – The Palace of Illusions, Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

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As the book 'The Palace of Illusions' is racing towards the conclusion, stirring so many emotions within me, like the scene of a beautiful sunset, I am feeling some familiar pangs. The same pangs that I felt when I first completed reading the Mahabharata, translated into Tamizh by Rajaji.

Written in a lucid, convincing style, this book will make you fall in love with Panchaali. Often through the book, I felt that I could hear the voice of Panchaali from the depths of Time's abyss. Then I reminded myself that this is only a work of fiction and not the words from real Panchaali. And, a work of fiction this is, like no other. 

The most crucial cog of Mahabharata around whom the entire epic is woven, appears here not like the heroine that she has always been glorified to be but as a woman with the typically feminine frailties. Her anger, desires, wishes, ambitions, jealousy, friendship, passions, love, vengeance, sorrow and, finally, her salvation – Chitra Banerjee lays out the whole gamut of emotions for us to feel and empathize with one of the foremost feminists of Indian history.

This is a book that you should not miss reading!

Bliss & Peace!

It is said that once, during his childhood, Sri Ramakrishna saw some pure white cranes flying across the dark grey clouds on a winter evening and fell into a state of divine trance. Though I can come nowhere near the shadow of that Supreme Being, I felt my own fair share of that divine bliss this morning. Going for a walk on the seashore, I crossed the spot where hundreds of pigeons and crows converge every morning. They eat the peanuts and grains offered by the visitors to the beach. This morning too they were there.

Image Source - Google

While walking in a contemplative mood, I saw them take off at once, fluttered by some noise. It wasn't one bird or even ten birds. There were hundreds of birds in the air, at once! There could have been even a thousand or two of them. Just as I was watching them, they took flight simultaneously, dotting the sky above the Bay of Bengal. The Sun had hardly come out, and was swarmed by the grey clouds, like a celebrity surrounded by people while emerging out of the residence. With that mixed hue of orange, grey and other such shades one can expect to see in the dawning sky, the birds mingled in their dark, silhouetted forms. It was like the sky trying to put up an entirely different show now - from being the dark expanse filled with shining stars, to the bright - well, almost - sky dotted with dark forms. The contrast and the bliss I felt were beyond words!

It was then that something clicked open, deep inside me. Then I realised this - we are all conceived and born in a deep state of bliss and peace. And, we are all entitled to feel and be in that state forever. Letting all the transient emotions and ephemeral experiences have their effect on us and dull that state of bliss and peace is like committing an injustice against ourselves. Anything that hinders that state of pure peace and pristine bliss is to be either seen for what it is and transformed to the right state or needs to be trimmed out of our minds. Clinging on to the pain and crying always is like hugging a cactus, not letting go, while still complaining about the pricking thorns.

But then, I also realised that the trick is not about mere 'realisations', but about having timely reminders. It is possible to let these positive realisations sidelined by the chaos of our daily lives. Traffic snarls, workplace confrontations, arguments with friends that turn ugly, silly spats with the dear ones in family, hidden pains, bitter memories of the past, fears about the future, the loneliness of our lives, the occasional feeling of vacuum inside our minds - all these and more can form like soot on our soul and make us forget the lessons and come down from that divine state of bliss. The trick then is not about mere realisations but about setting constant reminders.

There are many ways to remind ourselves of the divine bliss and peace that is always around us. Gratitude is one of them. Love is another. Keeping a permanent smile on the face is one other trick. Each and every one of us have tools and techniques that can help us heal quickly from the daily travails and get back to that supreme state of mind easily.

But, like every aspect that dominates this Universe, this realisation and reminder are also guided by that greatest boon bestowed on us - freewill. We can either choose to realise, remember and remind ourselves constantly that bliss and peace are ours and they belong to us. Or, we can simply leave such things to be the topics for sages and saints and go back to letting our mind rot in the rut of day-to-day life. The choice, purely, is ours!

Book Review – Broken Republic, Arundhati Roy

Arundhati Roy. The first time I heard this name, I was just about to exit my teens, into my second year in college, with hardly a dozen or so books in my bookshelf that had gotten me the tag of 'intellect' amidst my relatives. That was the time when she had won Booker prize for her novel 'The God of Small Things'. I heard her name and about the award in the news and promptly forgot about it soon, considering novels and works of contemporary - read, those who are alive - authors to be ‘too ordinary’ for someone like me to read.

Now, my ego and so-called 'intellect' set aside, I grew up hearing about her once in a blue-moon while. Sometime about her new work, sometime about her involvement with the Maoist organisation, some other time in the form of a review that I didn't deign to read, about 'The God of Small Things'. She was always pushing herself into my life in one way or the other. On one occasion so very clearly remembered, I picked up a hardbound copy of her book 'Walking With The Comrades' at Landmark, only to drop it to fetch another book by Paulo Coelho. I had a shoestring budget for books at that time and one book per month was all that I could afford, you see.

Nevertheless, her foray into my attention continued in the form of her criticism of Anna Hazare, then her recent stupid criticism of Gandhi - I wonder why it has become a fashion in this country for the so-called intellectuals to attack Gandhi always, but I digress - and finally, my viewing the Tamizh translation of her book 'Broken Republic', in one of the book shows in my hometown. And, as if the Universe conspired to make me read her works, the book 'Broken Republic' came up first in the suggestions thrown up by Amazon.in recently. And, that was the last straw that made the camel order the book!

Once in a while you get to read a book that radically alters your whole perceptions about life and the way it is to be lived. Trust me. This book is one such. The book opens with events that will make you remember the Telugu movies of the 70’s and 80’s, which dealt with rebel topics of land reformation, oppressive landlords and revolutionary, vigilante heroes. But hardly a few more lines into the book and you realize that Arundhati means business – or, is it anti-business? She rips away the veil of pride about the country from before your eyes. She launches into a scathing attack about some of the biggest business conglomerates in the country, and some from out of its borders too.

This book is divided into four sections. Or, to be precise, four of her essays come together to make up this book. The first chapter, ‘Mr.Chidambaram’s War’ attacks the ex-Finance-Minister-and-then-the-Home-minister of this country, P.Chidambaram, for his faulty policies, hypocritical standards of having been the evangelist for the greedy corporate in the past only to don the cloak of a nationalist now. She also exposes how the Operation Green Hunt is a veil to snatch the lands and livelihood from the sons of this soil, the tribals and small farmers, only to redistribute eit to the corporate behemoths in the name of ‘public purpose’. She also laments how the environmental impact of such actions is cared for little or no way by the indifferent Indian government.

The second chapter ‘Walking With The Comrades’ provides an inside view into the lives of those branded as ‘Maoists’ and hunted down by police, paramilitary and mercenaries alike. She spends a few days with them and as one of them, walking with them, talking to them, living with them, listening to their grievances and listing down their troubles. She explores how the ‘Red Corridor’ – Dandakaranya, the area between Chattisgarh, Orissa, Andhrapradesh – is not actually suffering from Maoist presence, but by the presence of money-minting mining/infrastructure companies.

The third chapter ‘Trickledown Revolution’ deals with the displacement of poor and platform dwellers all over the country, for causes ranging from Commonwealth Games to corporate deals. It deals once again about the displacement of people due to the MoUs signed by the government with mining/infrastructure/construction companies. She spares none – neither the favorite punching bags of the previous regime – Sonia, Manmohan and Rahul – nor the current poster-boy of Indian politics, Shrimaan Narendra Modi. For once she shows some sanity, weighing not only the demands of Maoists, but their misdeeds as well. She contemplates as to how fit an alternative for the current system they will be and also whether their ideal, almost-utopian ideologies can really be implemented, in case if they ever assume power.

The fourth and final chapter ‘Capitalism: A Ghost Story’, starts by mocking Mr.Mukesh Ambani, whose obscenely ostentatious house (?) Antilla sticks out of the Mumbai skyline like a sore thumb. She goes on to talk about the corporate intervention into our lives and how we are being made to live and believe lies. Though this chapter sounds like the quintessential paranoid propaganda of the Left, you don’t feel it that way when she starts stacking proofs about how the big companies have started wielding clout in the media, art and literature by acquiring huge stakes in them. Also, the typical accusations about how the American CIA, charitable foundations with surreptitious motives and the weapon-makers have infiltrated many countries in multifarious forms.

Every page, every sentence and every word in this book smells of the so-called Leftist ideology, but dwell deep and you will realize that she is speaking about the real issues that stare us on our faces. While we sit at our drawing rooms, keep going on with our ‘contented’ lives of watching TV news and passing opinions about every unworthy event surrounding actresses’ cleavage and abdominal abomination of the celluloid hero dummies, there is one part of the country that goes to sleep in hungry stomachs and uncertainty about waking up the next day. This book will make you think whether the lives that we are living are real and worthy. Those who complain about their lives will start seeing the blessings in theirs. This will shake you out of your society-induced soft slumber.

And, when the book ends, your pride about this country’s economic achievements will stand deflated!

Hate, Like, Love!

In our lives, we will all meet three types of people.

The first lot will never be able to see our positives, but will happily find our faults and hit us at those weak points. They are the ones that will take pleasure in pushing us in the dirt, smearing our faces and hurting us at whim.

The second lot are the ones that will keep praising us, lauding even the smallest of our deeds as something so grand and unique. These are the people that like us and don't want to see our faults or choose to ignore them.

Then, there will be people who will be appreciate us when we are right and rap us on the knuckles when we are wrong. These are the people that will neither unduly praise us, nor unnecessarily blame us. They are the ones who will 'call the spade a spade' irrespective of the consequences. Truly these are the ones that love us for what we are.

The beauty of Life is that each of these people contribute to our growth and personal development. It is up to us to treat them with the amount of respect and attention that each of them deserve, without being bogged down by appearances. <3

Live Life, Intense & King-size!

Equanimity is a virtue, no doubts. But once in a while, it is OK to indulge in the emotional extremes too, because, it is only when one plunges into the emotional chaos can one emerge better and wiser. And, it is in the sheer peak of emotions, with happiness flowing all around, does one catch a glimpse of that all-encompassing Love.

After all, the point of life is not merely about stopping every now and then to analyze the progress, but about living it. And, living one does, by going through all the emotions wholly and properly. Cry when you feel sad, smile when you feel happy, laugh like a child, grin like a kid, weep when you feel worse, love with all your being, let go with gratitude when people leave, play fair and yet hard, eat for your tastes, wear your favorite clothes, pamper yourself with the paraphernalia you like, love yourself enough to cut the flabs - physical as well as emotional, listen to music that elevates you, read stuff that makes you wiser, do things that you always wanted to do, kiss like you want to pour your beings into one another, love like you might never get a chance again, hug like you want to fuse your souls together, leave no emotions unsaid, no hurts unhealed, no mistakes uncorrected, no friendships left to gather dust and no parts of your being, unexplored. Life is too big to play small and sensible. 

Be a sinner, become a saint. Be a student, become the teacher. Be in pitch darkness, grow into light. Feel the hatred, blossom into love.

Be spontaneous and sure about all that you do. Indeed, this is what Nature teaches us too. Have you seen a tree in spring? Have you seen the same tree again in autumn? In spring, the tree shines in full bloom, bringing forth all his riches, putting up a colorful show. He does not worry about equanimity and remaining stoical over the impending autumn. He just brings for his riches and shines in full glory.

The same tree, when autumn arrives, sheds all the flowers, buds and the leaves. He doesn't wail, but understands that to be an inevitable event in life. Once in a while, he has to remain desolate, naked, vulnerable, ugly and without any cause for revelry. But he does not complain. He just goes through the same completely. He doesn't hold some leaves, doesn't try faking blooms or simply give up, wither and die at once. He just lives, because deep inside, he knows that the hands of the clock will come full circle again.

There are only two things that one must keep in mind all through the process of life - Love and Gratitude. Once you're sure that you have both these in your arsenal, you are free to go ahead and take on Life. Life isn't to be merely analyzed and acknowledged. Life is just to be lived, and to be lived intense and King-size!

Love & Let Go - Farewell

What will a man do when he finds such a love? Confess it? Ask for consent? Take it towards its natural course for consummation? Treat it like everybody does? Nope. He feels an abundance of gratitude, for being able to feel such pure, unbridled love, for becoming emotionally alive, for being proved right in believing that it is possible to love for the sake of love alone.

Then, he feels respect. Respect for the Forces that felt it right to allow him to feel such bliss again. To feel that pure emotion of love that acted as a salve for his soul, healing his wounds and setting him on his path again. No matter what others said, he clung on to his belief in the truth of Love, and lo, he was rewarded for his belief and faith in love.

And then, he lets go that love!

Yes, he allows it go ahead on its path. A person who made one feel such an evolved form of love, someone who is capable of making one feel such sheer bliss is not to be confined and castled in one’s mundane emotional bonds. Such love needs to be respected, admired and allowed to flow unhindered. It is only the earthly emotions that demand satiation and satisfaction, not the ethereal ones. Platonic affection demands neither carnal satiation nor emotional affiliation. It doesn’t bind someone, hold someone down, try to possess and claim someone as one’s own, but instead respects, feels grateful for it and allows it to flow on.

The calm and cool breeze moves across the lands, gardens, gutters and jungles alike, meeting the flowers, trees, animals and the rest alike, carrying the source of life for all beings in this planet. Every time it caresses a fresh bloom, the bloom smiles at the breeze, gently waves at it and smiles with gratitude. The bloom never tries to capture the breeze and to keep it as its own. For, the bloom knows that it is not possible to hold the breeze, because the breeze belongs to everyone and everything. Even a tiny bit of breeze that is forcibly held captive will turn into stale air, smelling of nothingness, devoid of life.

The bloom also knows that its own grandeur is nothing compared to the glory of the breeze. The bloom is allowed to only feel gratitude for the presence of the breeze, no matter however brief that might have been, cherish the opportunity to be acquainted with the breeze and to bid farewell to the breeze on its free, flowing path. The bloom simply smiles, thanks and does let go the breeze, hoping that the breeze will cross its path again sooner.

Even if not, the bloom will not complain about it, because the bloom is now aware of the breeze’s presence, aware as to what it means to feel the breeze, aware how much warmth and life did the breeze bring into its existence. The bloom also feels happy that it was awakened from its slumber and was made to spread its fragrance.  The bloom didn’t after all send the breeze away empty handed. While the breeze brought the gift of life for the bloom, the bloom also did bid farewell to the breeze by sharing some of its fragrance with it. And, the mere thought that the breeze will remember the bloom, having felt the bloom’s fragrance, makes it an even relationship for the bloom.

Some blooms are just meant to let go! And, some breezes are just meant to awaken more blooms!

Love & Let Go - Arrival

It is possible to fall in love for reasons other than physical ones.
No, it is not.
 

It is possible to love a person without knowing anything except their traits.
Nope, not possible.
 

It is the original form of love to fall in love with a person without knowing their caste, clan, religious status, financial background or any other such mundane factors.
No, these are all essential details to be considered before loving a person.
 

It is possible to find one’s soul-mate, who is exactly as one sees in the mind’s eyes.
No, it is not, you are hallucinating.
 

OK, least of all, allow me to think that love is magical and supreme.
Nope, that’s a stupid feeling, you get married to someone and get settled before you turn mad with such thoughts.

Imagine living with such hopes and hoarse voices in one’s heart and ears for years together. Sounds like a curse? Indeed, it is. Such conflicts can seed self-doubts in one’s mind and make life miserable for one. Anyone who holds hopes about finding love is ridiculed these days. Just the same way someone who believes in a tooth-fairy is. Only difference is that one does not want money for one’s tooth, but just love in return for one’s love.

There are two choices that face such a trusting mind – either to give up all the hopes of finding true love and pure bonding, get to the ways of the masses and settle for something that is secure and safe, or to keep clinging on to such beliefs and continue being mocked by the vast majority that didn’t wait to find true love but instead took a safe bet with whatever thing life placed in their paths first.

While most minds choose the easiest path out, giving up hopes of finding love, settling instead for emotional safety and security of loyalty in life, some minds stick to their hopes. Like those little Japanese kids who still believe that if they love their doll truly and sincerely, those dolls might come to life some day or the other and start playing with them.

How blissful will it be for the child when the doll truly comes alive some day! The kid can happily cock a snook at all those people who ridiculed the belief, mocked the dreams and derided the determination. Similarly, imagine the bliss of the hopeful lover when he finally finds his beloved in flesh and blood - someone who perfectly matches every hue of his dreams, fills every crevice of his heart, heals every bruise in his mind and fits snugly into his vacant dents of his soul, all before he even thinks of confessing his love!

Someone who brings light and love into the barrenness of his existence, pulls him out of his mundane worries, gives a jolt to his slumbering soul and makes his life flow again! Someone that makes him feel love all over again, brightens his heart’s dark corners, makes him fall in love all over again, across ages, spaces and time, renews his belief in love, proves it to him that it is possible to love not due to appearance, caste, religion, peculiar traits, carnal sensations, the similarity in tastes and interests, but to just love for the sake of love, that mysterious force which is keeping the Universe moving for long!

To be continued...

Love & Let Go - Awaiting

Do you remember the first moment when you learnt that Santa Claus isn’t real? Or, the day when you learnt that the favorite soft-toy you used to cuddle as you fell asleep, or the small soldier that you used to treat as your favorite action hero, or that toy gun which made you feel so protected and daring, were all mere illusions, just pieces of many materials, to help fan the fantasies of the nascent minds? Or, the time when you learnt that animals cannot talk and behave as we humans do, as we have been always taught in all those childhood stories, which are nothing but ways of instilling morals and principles in us?

As we grow up, our toys, our favorite cartoons, our beliefs in fairies, our fears about the monsters in darkness, all of these get discarded. While being disillusioned about monsters and demons does not bother one much, the disenchantment about one’s toys, fairies and angels, does kill a part of us. All of us slough off that childhood innocence, like a snake sheds its old skin, to grow into adulthood. It is an inevitable process in the life of any human being. Knowing that the doll is just that, a doll, and never was and never will be a real companion is a pain that all of us need to face. But it is an unconscious process. As I once read somewhere, ‘we grow up in the space between two days - the day when we used to play with our toys and the day we stopped playing with them’.
 

While this pain or process is a natural thing, not all of us take easily to it. Some people just agree and let go simply, while for some people it is some serious eye-opener. Learning that it was not a fairy that exchanged one’s tooth for a few coins but one’s mother, learning that it wasn’t Santa Claus that struggled through the chimney, but one’s father that piled up gifts and toys near the Christmas tree, these are all things that can strip the fascinations off a young mind. But, some children do cling on to their beliefs, even as they grow up and enter into adolescence. And the ridicule that such believing minds need to withstand can be soul-crushing.
 

Imagine having to face such ridicule for many years, especially when one is an adult that still happens to believe in fairy tales? The only difference is, the person in question does not believe in tooth fairies or Santa Claus, but in the presence of one’s soul-mate.
 

‘Love isn’t all that great as you think of it to be’, ‘love vanishes after an year or so into marriage’, ‘there are no ideal relationships’, ‘you cannot remain perfect companions’, ‘there is no one called a soul-mate or a dream-companion’ – all these and more. Now, I am not here to argue in favor of celluloid-type romantic musings, because one does understand, as one grows, that love isn’t always about red roses, clasped hands, and walking into the sunset, but about ensuring that the bond does not grow stale, commitment does not turn into confinement, and one another’s presence isn’t taken for granted just because it is secured, and to value one another’s presence instead of treating it as a given, only to regret it when one of them leaves – for a while or forever.

To be continued...

Book Review – Indian Love Stories, Sudhir Kakar

What does the word ‘love’ bring to your mind? A red colored heart, lovers with clasped hands, gleeful smiles of youthful faces and flowers in bunches? If so, you must read this book. Not because it will augment your idea about love, but because it will make you see how large and different an emotion love is, different from what we have been taught about love repeatedly, in mundane, movie-type depictions.

‘Indian Love Stories’ is an anthology, a collection of 10 short stories, by contemporary Indian authors and compiled by Sudhir Kakar. Each of these 10 stories brings out the 10 different hues of love – some blue, some green, and some, grey. But each hue by itself will definitely paint a vivid picture for your mind’s eyes. A compilation of works by some of the eminent names in Indian literature scenario, like Amrita Pritam and Kamala Das, these stories are sure to tickle some nerves, lacerate some hearts and unleash some repressed emotions.

With no intention of spoiling the show for the willing readers, and with the intention of giving a glimpse into the vast array of emotions and relationships that go by the name of love, here I’d like to offer a line or two about each of these stories.
 

1.    The Empty Chest, Indira Goswami – Deals about the unfulfilled love between a poor woman, who is left to fend for herself in the absence of her errant husband, and her previous, upper-caste employer. What will be her emotions like, if she gets to know about his death, a decade after their separation?
 

2.    The House Combustible, Subodh Ghosh – Translated from Bengali, this story tells about a chance encounter between an estranged couple. A divorced couple get to meet by destiny at a railway station, on a lonely night. What will be the flow of emotions like? Especially when they are both married to some other persons and are headed in different directions now?
 

3.    Stains, Manjula Padmanabhan – Set in a foreign background, this story depicts the relationship between a rich NRI and his African-American girlfriend. The clash of cultures and the conservative mindset of the NRI’s mother form the theme of this story. A little raw and a bit shocking with the way the story revolves around what we Indians don’t even want to talk about – menstruation troubles of a woman.
 

4.    A New Triangle, Ratanlal Shant – What will be the relationship like between a husband and wife that have grown cold by the commitment, the feeling of security and the resultant ennui? What will it be like for a husband and wife, who have nothing to fear about losing the other person? Well, this story deals with it.
 

5.    Chastity Belt, Damodar Mauzo – If you are a person who works away from home for a major part of the year and stays home only for about a month or two, will you trust your wife to remain chaste and loyal to you? Especially, if you were a person who has had an affair with a married woman under similar circumstances, in the past? Well, this story deals with that dark side of love.
 

6.    The Game of Chess, Kamala Das – Written by one of the prominent Indian female authors, this story deals about a woman’s infatuation and attraction for her elderly mentor/family-friend. Not sure whether it can be called ‘love’, but Sudhir has made it clear in the foreword itself that he will be including all shades of love, so you can accept this story.
 

7.    The Bed of Arrows, Gopinath Mohanty – A bedridden middle-aged wife, physically withered but emotionally very much alive, a husband who has been loving and caring nevertheless, the arrival of a female colleague that seemingly fills the husband’s life with a bit of joy and happiness, the resulting emotional turmoil in the mind of the wife, these form the basis for this story. Intense is the word.
 

8.    Housewife, Ismat Chughtai – Deals with the many strings that bring together a woman who sells herself for a living and a pious shopkeeper who is averse to such people. Destiny makes her end up at his house, which she soon makes her own. Their resultant union in marriage and the travails thereof are humorously portrayed here. You’ll love this for sure.
 

9.    Weekend, Nirmal Verma – A man separated from his wife, but committed to be a good father to his daughter, and a woman who shares his life and bed during weekends. What will their relationship be like? Will she ever go back to him even after she learns about his abundant love and care for his daughter? I simply loved the style of writing, though averse to the mind of that woman. A lot intense, brilliant and breathtaking. You often need to stop and catch your breath so that you can understand the innumerable emotions that are packed in these words.
 

10.    The Weed, Amrita Pritam – What will happen if a poor rural girl, married to a man much older than her, brought up with the idea that love is a sin and a sort of allure caused by eating a certain type of weed, falls in love some day? Amrita Pritam, enchants with her simple way of writing in this story.
 

For someone who had never indulged much in contemporary Indian writing, this book opened up a world of new reading possibilities and introduced some brilliant Indian writers to pick from, in future. If you are a person who believes in love and its many facets, you will love reading this book for sure. For, each story will end up tugging a string from some part of your heart.

Book Review – The Missionary Position, Christopher Hitchens

There is a technique in building demolition industry - ‘building implosion’. When it comes to demolishing very large buildings and skyscrapers, which might prove to be time-consuming, risky and costly, they place explosives at some crucial, supporting points in the structure. When the charges are detonated, they destroy the supporting structures in the building, causing the top portion of the building to collapse on to the lower part. The huge weight falling from above, combined with the Earth’s gravity, makes the lower portions of the building crumble into dust, resulting in ‘implosion’, causing miniscule or no damage at all to the structures or people around.

Having decided to destroy the grand edifice called Mother Teresa, Christopher Hitchens has followed a similar technique. He clearly understood that to destroy the aura and charisma of Mother Teresa, he needs to place the charges in the very crucial areas of her sainthood, virtues and philanthropy and, lo, he attains his goal with impeccable precision.

He places the first charge on her sainthood. He questions the hurry shown by the Holy See to attribute sainthood to so many people in a hurry, along with the slackening of the criteria for the same. One of the miracles attributed to Mother Teresa is a photograph taken in poorly lit conditions that nevertheless appears so clear and bright. While the journalist Malcolm Muggeridge attributed it to the ‘divine aura’ of Mother Teresa, Hitchens dismantles the claim by taking the confirmation from the photographer that it was nothing more than the newly launched Kodak film roll that did the trick.
 

With the saintly aura sacked, Teresa’s staunch supporters and believers will then resort to her noble virtues, searching for some stable points to stem the tide of criticism. Hitchens hits out at it next.  He disparages her work of philanthropy, showing us that it was nothing more than an outwardly veil for the missionary work of a zealot with her own crisis of faith. He condemns the enforcement of three essential characters of chastity, poverty and charity on the patients. He criticizes the lack of amenities at the Missionaries’ centres despite the huge sum of charities pouring in from around the world, the senseless use of money for religious rather than medical purposes, the proselytizing rituals carried slyly at the deathbed of the people grimacing in pain. He uses the statements of past members and volunteers of Missionaries of Charity and destroys the praise for her ‘philanthropy’.
 

Having destroyed her sainthood, having killed her glory for philanthropic work, he then goes on to question her very integrity, wisdom and common sense. Her stance against abortion, siding with the Church, her accepting donations from tyrants and swindlers, despite being aware of their notoriety, her intervention in the legal process in favor of a conman that looted from the common men - now these are sufficient blames that can make anyone seem like evil. Then imagine what they can do for the reputation of someone like Teresa!
 

With the sarcasm and carping criticism that begin at the title – well, all of us know what is meant by ‘the missionary position’ – and end only at the very last word of the book, Hitchens has crucified Agnes Gonxha Bojaxhiu (Mother Teresa) on the very grounds in which she was glorified. If you are a Teresa-admirer – as I am - please don’t pick this book. He will make you go scurrying for cover, running in search of some straws to cling on to save yourself from the storm that could shake your very belief in her. He will blast the pedestal from your mind and will bring down Mother Teresa with a thud.
 

As Sunday Times rightly wrote about this book, ‘it is not looking good for Mother Teresa’!

Music Review – Jodi Bandhu Hao, Subhomita

Books and Music. I often choose them both based on interest. And, at times, by intuition. When recently one of the Landmark outlets in Chennai was being closed down, they sold books and music at throw away prices. Like a woman on the throes of labor, trying to empty her womb in a hurry and feel the relief, they gave away books and music for a fraction of what they were really worth.
 

Having had my fill of the books from the sale, I turned my attention to music. With all popular and classical ones having been sold out, the shelves were populated by CDs of unknown and lesser known artists. Damaged packs, unintelligible fonts and unheard of names - these were amongst the ones for sale. Suddenly I saw a couple of CDs of Rabindra Sangeet. Having been fascinated by a man, who is one of the architects of Bengali Renaissance, I always wanted to go through his works, though I couldn't still read a single letter of the Bengali alphabet.
 

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With 5 CDs being given away for a paltry Rs.50, I had picked two of Rabindra Sangeet, one of a Bengali movie 'Naukadubi' and then one of a Hindustani singer with whom I had interacted personally. I was looking for the last piece that could make my 5-for-50 puzzle complete. And, then I laid my eyes on 'Jodi Bandhu Hao'.
 

Never in my life had I heard even the name Subhomita, that of the singer. Having decided to learn Bengali, I decided to pick this CD nevertheless, driven by the cover design, the radiant photo of the artist, and the possibilities of having found something worthy on sheer serendipity.
 

Man, wasn’t I justified?! It turned out that this music CD will remain one of my most cherished music collections. Being unable to decipher the meaning still, I decided to simply focus on the music and the voice. The music is of the kind that will remind you of the lush green farms of Bengal, glistening under the rays of the setting Sun, the flowing waters of the Ganges, the kids running around in joy and gay abandon. With the music composed mostly with the Indian classical instruments, the music elevates one to an altogether different emotional level.
 

And, the singer, Subhomita. There are innumerable voices that I have heard and enjoyed. But here is a voice that can carry you around on a journey deep inside the soul. She has the gift of conveying the emotions and the spirit of the song through her voice. The bliss, the pain, the joy, love, happiness - her voice conveys the mood of the songs in a pristine manner. When I learn Bengali and start comprehending the lyrics of these songs, I wouldn't be surprised if they happened to convey the same emotions that I am feeling as I am listening to the songs now.
 

Melodious music and a soulful voice - if these are the two things that you look for in a music album, if you're a person that believes in the ability of music to transcend the barriers of language and convey the meaning clearly still, if you're a person that agrees that the humans were able to communicate and comprehend properly even before the advent of languages, then listen to this music album. You won't be disappointed.

Krishna Janmashtami Wishes!

He was born a Prince but was brought up a herdsman
He was the Eldest of all beings
Yet he grew up as the Younger
He killed many demons and ogres
But salvaged a multitude of souls too
He was one fine Playboy with scores of sweethearts
Yet the one Ultimate Celibate sinless
He was the Righteousness that guided the Pandavas
And, the vicious Sakuni that guided Kauravas to their graves
The Epitome of Extremes, the Divine of Dualities
No wonder He remains rooted in my heart
A heart that is torn between extremes
Whether a god or not, He'll remain my friend
The one Friend that none can replace! <3

Janmashtami wishes to all!

Divine and the Details

Don't always go by the words of the so-called saints and gurus. 

It is not always necessary to shun to senses to attain the Divine. 

If the dawning Sun's golden rays, winter evenings' fluffy grey clouds, the sight of a fertile green field, the sounds of chirping birds, the song of a cuckoo, the smell of neem flowers, the fragrance of incense from a place of worship on the way, the cool sea breeze, a gust of wind on a hot summer afternoon and myriad such other sensations cannot stoke the Divinity within you, you're never going to feel it by dwelling secluded inside a cave.

For, it is not the Devil that sits in the details, but the Divine!

Happy Independence Day - 2014

Good morning, my Countrymen!

It feels nice to see the patriotic spirit flowing around, right from breakfast tables to profile pictures in social networking sites. But, let's realize that all our boastful talks of patriotism and profile picture changing is nothing, if we don't live it in the true spirit - the spirit of fraternity.

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 Just make a vow today to respect your fellow citizen and treat him/her as you'd treat yourself, to not cause hindrance to any life-form in any way, to protect the heritage monuments of this land, to not deprecate the past heroes, to preserve its natural resources and not squander them, to lead a clean, ethical and civilized life, and to be an exemplary beacon of virtues for posterity to follow.

Also realize that such a fraternity need not stop with Kashmir or Gujarat or Assam or Kanyakumari. Let that love spread across the oceans and terrains to envelope the rest of the world too. For, it is not love, if it does not grow and evolve.

If you think that these are all too much to ask for, then kindly change the profile pictures to your own photos, sit in front of the TV set and start watching the 'special programs', thinking this to be just another break from the senseless mundane lives that we are all leading.

Happy Independence Day!

Afraid of Life...

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It is always said that we humans are afraid of Death. But I believe that we should be afraid of Life, fearing it in a positive way. We should be afraid, because as we toil with our mundane existence like hands of a clock with unwavering routine, Life calmly trickles away. We should be afraid, because as we keep making plans for a higher education, bigger house, larger car and wealthier coffers, the real riches of life are simply withering around. As we slog for 16 hours at our workplaces, so many Suns and Moons have come and gone, sea has seen myriad ebbs and tides.

As we bask in the artificial lights and artificial chillness, telling ourselves that all is well, we indirectly spurn the soothing shades of the soulful trees. As we keep craving to go higher up the imaginary ‘ladders’ of life, in the hustles and bustles of the city, the cuckoos of many a wilderness sing their soulful melodies to an empty theatre. As we keep running for the fickle, meaningless recognition and fleeting rewards of the ‘society’, Life’s tiny-but-worthy pleasures are left to atrophy.

May be, it is time that we all arose from our deep, ‘somnambulistic soul’ existence and started laughing more, sharing more and living more. May be, it is time that we all realized that we have buried many dreams and desires of our childhood under the slush of the ‘aspirations’ of adult lives. May be, it is time that we realized that, as we keep making plans for a better tomorrow, reserving words to be spoken for another time, concealing love to be confessed another day, deciding to forgive someone the next time, hesitating to apologize till we find the right moment and trying to conduct ourselves according to the milieu and unwritten etiquette, the real life, the real ‘us’, is simply gagged and thrown deep inside us.

May be, it is time we all realized that dreams we didn’t live, love we didn’t share, and relationships we didn’t care to mend will all be much worse regrets in our final moment, than the promotions that we didn’t get, the wealth we didn’t accumulate and the ‘social ladder’ we didn’t climb.

May be, it is time!

Life's Little Good Deeds

I remember reading in some holy scripture that all our deeds, good or bad, no matter what their size, never go unnoticed. Yesterday, by early morning, I was walking home from the railway station after an early morning arrival at my hometown. Just ahead of me, I saw a little boy walking, returning from the dawn's prayers at the mosque. When he saw a little boulder lying on the footpath, he bent down, lifted the boulder and placed it away from the footpath, clearing the path for those that walk behind him.

In the early dawn's dim light I couldn't see his face, but he reminded me of the lines of my favorite Gibran and reminded me some of these invaluable lessons in life -

1. Do good, irrespective of the size of the deed.

2. Do good even when nobody notices and appreciates you.

3. Do good even when you have nothing to gain from it.

4. Even the tiniest of deeds performed out of consideration for fellow beings speaks immense volume of love.

Feeling abundant gratitude for that unknown little teacher of mine!

Book Review – Inferno, Dan Brown

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Think of Indiana Jones without his whip and scintillating daredevilry and that is Robert Langdon for you. This middle-aged art professor – yes, middle-aged – makes up for what he lacks in adventures with his extreme intellect and ability to remember and interpret art and history at will. Considered to be the author Dan Brown’s alter ego, Robert Langdon is appearing for the fourth time in Dan Brown’s works – the other novels being the most widely read ‘Da Vinci Code’, ‘Angels & Demons’ and, the less popular work, ‘The Lost Symbol’.

The novel begins with one of the lead characters jumping to his death from one of the important landmarks in Florence, Italy. The next chapter begins with Langdon waking up with amnesia in one of the hospitals in Florence, with an assassin arriving to kill him. Langdon barely manages to escape with the help of the young doctor Sienna Brooks. Taking Langdon to the relative safety of her apartment, she informs Langdon about a strange object, a steel tube with biohazard symbol found inside his jacket pocket, and enquires about it. What follows then forms the rest of the novel.

In all his previous works Langdon was focused on saving individuals and groups, but this time he is launched on a journey to save the world from the evil machinations of a mad scientist. If I say anything more, it could spoil the plot for you. Better pick the book and read it for yourself.

You ought to give it to Dan Brown for his unmatched ability to weave a vivid tapestry of fictional works that include more than mere thrill and rush of adrenalin. Every book of Dan Brown, once you are done reading it, makes you feel wiser in terms of history, art, geography, science and architecture. Inferno is no different. Adding to the wonder of the plot is his genius of bringing one of the classics of world literature, 'Divine Comedy' of Dante Alighieri into play and constructing a brilliant plot around it.

If you are a bookworm that loves reading meaningful works of fiction and perfect thrillers, Inferno is the one for you. This is a book that begins as racy as it can, contains as many twists and turns in the plot as that of a Grand Prix race track and ends in a way that you cannot even imagine. Even Dante must be smiling from his grave at the way his magnum opus has been brought to life by Dan Brown and used to create mystery in the minds of the readers. Read it people. You won’t be disappointed.

Ashok Kumar

Love isn’t dead yet!

Yesterday, having had a rough time since the moment I woke up, and having been haunted by some of the memories from the past, I ended up concluding that there is no genuine love on this earth to be felt. But, it was like a hard slap across my face, when I came across an elderly gentleman this morning. And, a worthy and pleasant slap it was, indeed! :-)

This morning, once I reached one of my outlets, I started the day by playing a piece of music in my laptop, Raha Alihya Bhilawal Khayal by Kala Ramnath to be precise. There was an elderly gentleman sitting at the outlet. The moment he listened to this music, he enquired me as to which FM station is playing this tune. I told him that this is from my personal collection. He hesitated for a moment and kept silent. As I carried on with my work, he spoke to me again and asked me whether I could give this tune to him. I told him that I have no data-cable through which I could transfer the songs to his phone. He fell silent again. Then he asked me will it be OK if he could give me a pen-drive and whether I would give him the tune. I felt so moved and told him that it will simply be my pleasure to share something as soulful as music. I told him to bring me a pen-drive during his next visit.

He simply enquired one of my team-members about the availability of a pen-drive and the moment he learnt about it being available, he bought an 8 GB pen-drive and asked me to share all my collection. I felt my ego about my love for music being shattered at his enthusiasm. Here is someone who is even more enthusiastic about music. This is what I thought, without being aware of what was about to follow.

While I got about copying some of the best performances from my collections to that pen-drive, he spoke to me about his wife. Himself a retired pensioner, about 76 years of age, he has a wife who is 72 now. And, she is a cancer patient!

Afflicted with bone-marrow cancer, she is undergoing a huge torment every day with that pain and the certainty of counting her last days on this planet. She met with an accident during her 30s which resulted in the removal of uterus along with an 8-month old fetus.

Now, our pensioner has sold his house for her treatment and has spent almost more than half of his savings. He is afraid of not being able to support her treatment, which is running to more than Rs.20000 per month. He is more worried about not being able to see her suffer that badly on a daily basis, sleeping for almost 18 hours per day, being unable to do anything in the remaining 6 hours that she is awake. But he derives a sad comfort from the fact that the doctors have confirmed of her not having many days to live.

He said that he is getting this music collection for the sake of his wife, since she loves music, especially Carnatic and Hindustani. He wants to keep this playing near her bed, so that she can find some solace amidst her pain. And, till her death!

He also says that after she leaves, he will also spend his time listening to music, and when it is his time to leave, he will leave a note to play music near his deathbed for an hour or so!

After listening to his moving story, all that I could do for him was open the door when he left, accompany his elderly frail figure reach his vehicle parked outside and assure him of whatever help I can.

In this age of free sex, fickle relationships, drop-of-the-hat divorces and illicit relationships that are fast becoming legitimate, there are some people like this, who stand as beacons of love, spreading love and light around by their mere presence.

Wish God, if there is ever one, relieves them both of their sufferings soon, and cares for this special couple as long as they are around!

Ashok Krishna

Curse of technology?!

One of the greatest benefits of technology is that it helps us camouflage our lack of civility and brutal behaviour towards others - especially the ones we don't like or care about. Just think of someone not answering the doorbell or a knock at the door. Imagine someone not turning or standing to talk to you when you meet them on the road and call their name. Imagine someone turning their back on you when they see you in person. 

But all these are perfectly acceptable in the digital world - mails and messages that never get replied to, calls that are never picked up, problems that never get discussed about. No wonder we find ourselves more isolated and alone than ever before in human history!  :-(

I repeatedly see people getting into an attitude the moment they don't want you anymore in their lives. Calls are never picked, messages/mails are never responded to, they resort to blocking you or removing you from their page and do all such things, except having the mind to discuss and sort things out. What hurts even more is that these are the same people that were once bent on communicating with you by whatever means possible, meeting you whenever it is possible and speaking all the nice words to you and about you. Don't such friendships deserve at least a decent farewell and a dignified severing of ties?!

Why I love the works of R.K.Narayan

I always find the writing of R.K.Narayan to be a little slow, bordering on the dull, and the narrative to be very mundane, like going through one's daily life. But there is still a definite charm about his works and especially, the character formation. Each and every character turns out to be something you can relate with.

They may not be special or unique, but you find a piece of yourself in those characters, some similarity - like seeing a stranger who is wearing the same shirt as yours or the same watch as yours, or riding the same vehicle as yours and thinking, 'Hey, that is so like mine' . His book 'The English Teacher' is no exception.  :-)

Ashok Krishna

Life - What Is It Worth?

One of my aunts passed away yesterday. While visiting her house this morning and seeing her body laid to rest for one last time, I was flooded with memories. All those childhood days spent in that house, where she always treated us with home-made ice-cream (those were days when the refrigerator was a magical thing!), one of her sons who used to draw and paint and thus did sow the seed for my interest in art that remains afresh till date, all those days of turning through the pages of his Archie Comics while recognising a few English words here and there, being made a fool by my didhi that always told me about how a ghost in one of the paintings really lives in the garden of that house and so many such nice ones.

Another hour or so and my aunt's body will be cremated and even her ashes and bones will be scattered in the sea. All that is going to remain of her are a few photographs and all our memories.

End of the day, isn't this the fate of all of us?! All our dreams, ego, anger, qualms, grudges, pains, pleasures, possessions - what do they all count to?! When we leave, we are not going to be remembered for owning a costly gadget, riding a luxury vehicle or throwing away wads of green every now and then at life's little pleasures. All that is going to remain of us will be a bunch of photographs and the impressions that we leave behind in the minds of the people around us. Why don't we all realise it sooner than later and strive to leave behind some good memories?!

Love and Life

All of us humans are like flowers - each with his/her own colour, texture and fragrance, similar in life traits, but no two ever the same. And, Love is that lovely butterfly wandering amist us lovely blooms. The Butterfly decides to sit on some, speak with some, sip on some, but there are many flowers that go through their whole lives without ever getting acquainted to that Butterfly. But, just because the Butterfly didn't sit doesn't make the flowers any inferior, just the same way it doesn't make the butterfly an unreal thing to the flowers. End of the day, the flowers need to realise that the purpose of their lives is to shine in colors and spread their fragrance, and seeking the butterfly isn't their purpose in life. For, as Zen says, the Butterfly sits, not by force or by prayers, but on It's own will!

Book Review: Sampat Pal – Warrior in a Pink Sari

The first time I learnt of Sampat Pal and her famed Gulabi Gang was through one of those innumerable Facebook posts that flood my screen. Ever since I read about the group and their resorting to often-subtle-at-times-abrasive methods of vigilantism, I felt curious to know more. So, at the first opportunity available in the form of a book in sale at Landmark, I lunged at it. I can say that I am not disappointed.

Sampat Pal hails from Uttar Pradesh, from one of those innumerable low-caste clans. As such, she had gone through all the troubles one might expect in this background – caste differences, illiteracy, hatred towards the girl child, childhood marriage, lack of understanding from in-laws, oppression from the high-caste Brahmins of her area, and an indifferent government.

She is a woman who had stood through all these travails to establish herself as a sole solace for many of the oppressed women, and at times even men, who go through troubles akin to hers. What started as a simple fight against caste-based oppressive treatment, turned out to be a fight against ill-treatment of daughters-in-law, corrupt government employees that fail to perform their duties, corruption in the public distribution system and lack of implementation of the government welfare schemes.

She comes across as a fire-brand social activist who resorts to not-so-subtle tactics to send her message across – like the time when she slapped a Brahmin in her village that beat up a lower class person, or her slapping a cop when he tried to arrest her companion for no reason, or even the time when a corrupt government official as well as a police constable were beaten to pulp by her gang for attacking them.

She claims that she has produced results with her methods often and the spreading of her fame across the globe is only proof enough for the same. While you may question whether she is right or wrong about her methods, I humbly feel that as long as she manages to produce the good results her methods are well justified.

But all isn’t well and pink – forgive the pun here – about her. For one, she comes across as a paranoid, domineering, over-ambitious and belligerent personality. She herself confesses that she does not trust anyone and has no close confidante to share her emotions or inner feelings. Also, she does not do these things in an organized manner – for example, her group itself is not registered anywhere and does not have proper data of its members. Her domineering attitude becomes evident in the way she describes others and talks about others. With a fling at MP elections and her ambitions seeping through her words, to attain power and position so that she can act better, prove that she is not entirely beyond all such things that eventually catch up with any activist.

She never shies away from any single opportunity to compare herself with some of the great leaders of this country – B.R.Ambedkar (finds him inadequate), Rani Lakshmi Bai of Jhansi (says the queen spilt the blood of many men while she didn’t resort to such gory methods), Mahatma Gandhi (compares her work with that of Gandhi). While she may be justified in seeking recognition and glory for her work, I think such comparisons are a little too far-fetched.

Also, I found one thing to be pretty annoying – her constant bashing of men. In her eyes, all the men are absurd, selfish and oppressive. I wonder why does every female worthy of note in this country resorts to bashing up men and their character to justify her own achievements. This woman does not even wince when blasting her husband or her father or even her own ‘Babuji’, the social activist who organized her and made her what she is today. She easily forgets all the contributions that men had made in her life – her uncle who sent her to school against prevailing sentiments, her husband who after initial reluctance agrees to let her do what she wanted, her activist companion ‘Babuji’ who put her in limelight with his organizing skills, or those innumerable unnamed men that support the Gulabi Gang during its processions and demonstrations.

There are some moments of absurdity in her attitude as well – when she says that though her work is as good as that of Gandhi, her face will never get to feature in the currency notes of the country or when she says that she will pray (!) to the Statue of Liberty’s replica in Paris for the liberation of all the women.

End of the day, Sampat Pal is a worthy social activist who has her own ways and methods of tackling the issues in the world around her and emerges victorious, all the while grappling with her own weaknesses, faulty traits and prejudices. You can find so many wrongs with her, but you ought to give it to her for courage and sense of dedication for the welfare of others. We need to recognize and bring to light all such activists from the dark nooks and corners of our country. She says that it is only through the foreign media that she might gain recognition for her work in this country. Rightly so!

Ashok Krishna