Scene I

The music died she adjusted her neckline.The creases were fresh but she couldn't care less.She started cleaning the table and in her hurry spilled the half filled bottle on the bed."Fuck!"
The fizz was still there in the beer and without effort it spread evenly.In her haste to clear the mess she dropped the ash tray on the bed,spot on the beer."Fucking shit!"she exclaimed.'Could nothing be normal?'she wondered,'just for once'.Cursing aloud helped her calm her nerves.But she did that only when she was alone.Couldn't let anyone hear her.Was against her upbringing.
She kicked the bed and sat on the edge,looking at the mess.She bit her lips and reached out for the cigarette.No,she wasn't addicted to smoking,just made her feel good-the whole act;of taking the cigarette and then lighting the matchstick,cupping the hands,inhaling the smoke,puffing it out.Reminded her of some moment in the past.But what exactly was it,she couldn't recollect.And now it didn't matter.
The neck pained from lying on the sofa for long.She hated any sort of body pain.Anything that slowed her pace,she hated it.And lately she had become very restless.
From some pores in the skin,uncertainty had entered.Many a times she stayed in the moment,but lately she found herself struggling with it.Images flashed in forward and rewind,making her dizzy and nauseate.

Morning musings

The morning drive was the only inspiration to get up and go to work.'Dum maro dum' played on full blast and she wondered what it would be like really to 'maro' a 'dum'.Could it make her forget herself?Why when she had had numerous opportunities,she didn't try it then?What had stopped her?
So many passages she went through,during that half hour drive.Driving gave her a high,at least that pleasure she could have.In between those passages,she enjoyed the drive.How she wished for a miracle,to give wings to the car and fly her away to some place else..............
Sitting in the staff room,she watched all her collegues.Dressed up in all colours and make up.Could anyone of them guess what she was going through?How perfect were their worlds?How did they manage to generate the energy to carry on living,to adorn themselves and walk so tall?What completed their world............
How could a mother detatch herself and be just hersefl?its not that she didn't have a right,but how could she afford it?

Kieślowski in virender nagar

Was a warm winter afternoon that day.Noting unusual about the day or the colony.
It had never happened ever,in the last ten years,that she had stayed over there.For she hated the place-always felt like a misfit in it.Never explored it really,in that sense.Anyways.Lets get back to the sunny afternoon.Or,lets talk about Virender Nagar first.
Its almost like a ghetto-narrow lanes,almost like bylanes.Balconies kissing each other.The sun manouvers through a few slits,one could time the watch looking at the sun in the balcony.It stayed in her east facing house for half an hour,between 10:30-11:00.There is more cement and bricks than the air to breathe.Voices travel inside the bedrooms,uninvited.So the lonliness gets knocked at times.
A very punjabi colony,so to speak.With a few accents-some local some forgien.Afghani and Kenyan,now and then.Bengali too is heard at times.
There is harmony so to speak,just till you want to park your car!All niceities evapourate then.But a warm and friendly place,generally speaking-everybody knows what's happening in your life,who came,who stayed the night,where you come from,etc,etc.
She changed the surroundings abit.Always wore westerns-nothing glamarous,just jeans and T-shirts or skirts,etc.Initially they outcast her,but she never gave up.It was the way she was built.Wore what she felt comfortable in.Gradually all the women her age in her gali,also wore what they liked-jeans,capris.Made her smile often!To see the daughter-in-law all dressed up jazzy and the mother-in-law trying to smile and look the other way!
So much so for the gali and mohallah.
So that winter afternoon,like the one previous to it,she drove in one of them conjusted lanes.
Its a common thing for the elders to park themselves on the edge of the road,inbetween a scooter,a motorbike or a bicycle.Sitting there to soak in the sun.All lanes were filled with the old age,there on the edges.Sitting on the very popular 'Kamal' plastic chairs.They shifted their chairs along the direction of the sun.Thats how they ended up gradually on the crossing.
So,the sun had just hidden,behind one of them buildings.And this old figure got up.Crouching back,extremly white hair,white dupatta,gold round earrings and spectacles.With great effort she got up and held the chair from the back and the car stopped .
Slowly,very slowly,the old figure started moving,dragging the chair along.A step first and then the chair.Step...chair...step...chair....step...
It was the strangest experience.Many atimes she had seen this onscreen.Every time she watched the trilogy-Three colours:Blue,Red and white.It was really strange to see it in real life.
And she froze sitting in her car.Oblivious of the traffic behind her,honking their lungs out.

Feminism ,some random after thoughts

So what happens when life completes a circle,does it take another orbit or does it continue on the same one?It is so difficult to chose and answer,for only having lived one can one say how it happened.

Feminism refers to political, cultural, and economic movements aimed at establishing greater, equal, or, among a minority, superior rights and participation in society for women and girls. These rights and means of participation include legal protection and inclusion in politics, business, and scholarship, and recognition and building of women's cultures and power. Its concepts overlap with those of women's rights. Feminism is widely controversial, for challenging traditions in many fields and especially for supporting shifting the political balance toward women. Feminists are persons of either sex, or females only (in which case males may be profeminists), who believe in feminism.

Question-So what happened to all your feminist reading?

Answer-With the passage of time it all withered away from the memory membraneI got caught up in life,i think.The notes are tucked in some cupboard and the covers have faded away with dust sitting quietly and meditatively.


Question-What or who is a feminist?

Answer-A feminist is by thought,a male or a female.But i have a confusion here.Is one a feminist when reading a paper in a seminar about female rights,gender discrimination or any other 'intellectual' stuff or writing a thesis but failing to respect another woman who has borne a child or made her own choice of marrying.Does it become relevant here that how a female protagonist in life treats her maid or mistreats her.Should she be forgiven for being such a strong personality that such a person as an everyday maid becomes a mundane thing for her.
So how do i recognise or respect a feminist who is judgemental about the other woman,when the other woman is trying to struggle in everyday life,trying to manage a job, a child and emotinal turmoil all at the same time?Do I cease to be an intellectual when I am just trying to figure out life?Is life easier when one does not have a family to care for but just oneself.
(As i write the confusions are escalating)

Question-When or where does feminism exist?

Answer-What should be the answer to such a question?Don't i have to be a feminist to answer this?Don't i have to be a well read person to answer that?Only when i have comprehened the true meaning of this word will i be able to answer it.So i just will pass this one.I just haven't seen it existing around me,for i don't know the precise definition.Or it could be existing but i fail to see it.
Could it exist in my workplace where the staff is 90% female but there is total lack of respect and trust for one another.Where the working conditions are such that there is a catfight going on most of the times.
Could it be existing in the office of the Nation Commission For Women,which fights for female rights?One will have to visit and see.
Could it be existing in the DTC bus or Blueline bus where seats reserved for ladies are occupied by men.And those reserved for the handicapped are occupied by the physically abled.
Could it exist in the printing house of the publishers who publish such books?
No,i don't think i can answer this,i have to truely understand the definition first.

Question-How do you think one becomes a feminist?

Answer-I have no clue.Does one become by reading books?or does life teach its own lessons to mould you into one.Do i applaud my maid who wishs her husband leaves her,as she is the only earning member and her husband is in depression without a job.For he locks her out with the kids in the heat of May as she was cooking food inside the one room they have and beats her often;and her own mother tells her to go back to him.Could she be a feminist,without education.

Question...........................
leaving unquestioned till another flow of thoughts

performance art-hamam main hum sab nangey hain...

so what is performance art?

Wikipedia says-'Performance art is art in which the actions of an individual or a group at a particular place and in a particular time constitute the work. It can happen anywhere, at any time, or for any length of time. Performance art can be any situation that involves four basic elements: time, space, the performer's body and a relationship between performer and audience.'

performance art for me is just like any other medium of expression-like painting or photography or video art.
it is not a rehearsed drama.Its not something which you practice at home and then do the same in public.That for once can not happen,for the body behaves in a certain manner in the presence of strangers,sometimes as per your expectations and sometimes it surprises you.And the presence of the audience changes the space totally,the same familiar space gives you a totally different feel with people around you(even if there are familiar faces).
One definitely decides before hand what one intends to do and it may or may not workout the way it is planned.
And seeing a performance in person is a totally different experience than seeing the documentation,for the camera cannot capture the ambience created or rather the essence of it.What it captures is the execution of the performance and nothing more.And it is quite strange that people ask wiered questions on seeing the documentation.Why was i following my partener?
well,I was not following my partener-Hamam main sab nangey hain....but trying to synchronize the steps as was decided.But do i need to explain this?and that too to another performance artist?that when you perform it is not premeditated.It is decided before hand but what happens during the performance is not in your control at all.But why do i need to write this now?Because I am sick and tired of hearing certain things again AND again.Is it too late to write about it now?No not at all for certain questions have been circulating till now.

Dear ..... ,

Thank you for the life that you gave me, but I chose my own path. It was too different from yours and all detours have been obliterated. Sorry that it happened that way, maybe it had to happen like that.
Now that we have laid to rest each other it is time to get on. Move on to other grounds. Search for newer adventures in this one life that we have. All of us. Let us just keep the memories embedded deep , for to make them resurface will be too painful and too ugly. For they will be accompanied with the darkness.
Let it be put away as once upon a time.
Once upon a time there was a small happy family with all the dark sides kept ignored, for each had their own and did their best to hide them. All succeeded but one-the ugly duckling. For she was sick and tired of living the hidden lies. But her truth was a tornado. It engulfed the whole family. She betrayed her family for her freedom. Yes it will be better to say that she betrayed her family. That would satisfy all. And easy to put the blame. To defy tradition is betrayal. To live a hidden life is betrayal but to reveal it and then accept it , is the ultimate betrayal. So she betrayed them all- mummy, daddy and her best friend – the one she loves the most –her sister. They all were hurt , more than they had imagined for what had happened was more than anyone had imagined.
Anyway , it happened as it had to happen.
It will be unjust to say that the ugly duckling didn’t miss her family or didn’t try making things right. But it had become too messy. For her defiance had raised many questions. It had opened the lid of the dark truths- shared by all and hidden by all. And the tornado became stronger. And the best was to walk away.
So the family portrait was readjusted. The image of the ugliest of them all was erased. And as she had accepted the betrayal it was decided she be forgotten. Forgiveness and forgotten- these words became too mixed up. Can’t say really on who gave up on whom but eventually the doors were shut. For tradition teaches us how to live itself but not how to live life. It becomes far more important than anything in life. It becomes the faith, the belief mixed with other things. While life happens somewhere outside and tradition keeps on living itself through generations, through relations and even through betrayals.

So after some years of once upon a time, when in between life stopped for sometimes on both the sides, forgiveness totally vanished. While we pretend to forget each other life goes on and we all move on.

With love always,
manmeet

Hillarious -the Indian marriage certificate

Check out no.7 (ii)
Seems like a very essential point. and actually no proof needed, just a declaration.