Census and Sensibility

A few minutes ago two ladies were at my door for the Education census.
First question, "Who is the head of the family"
And I was thinking, we follow a very linear family system here, there is no monarchy or hierarchy or dictatorship. We try to be as democratic in our approach as we can.
Me: "Umm" (still thinking of what should I say)
Census Lady: "Who is the owner of the house?"
Me: "Well, this is a rented place." Ok, so I have never been asked questions like these before.
Census Lady: (now seeming a little unnerved and probably thinking I am really stupid) "Head of the family, your husband or any one?"
So one look at me and she assumed I was married, excellent! You can't be fat and unmarried you know.
Me: "It's Santhosh Kumar"
Census Lady: "Religion?"
Me: "Umm"
Census Lady: (before I could answer or ask another stupid question) "Hindu, you are Hindu no?"
Me: "No, my husband is Hindu and I am Christian"
Now, for all government purposes I am probably Christian because that's what it says on my birth certificate. So an answer like "Sorry, I don't have any religion. I am born Catholic but I am not a practising Catholic" will not satisfy anybody and definitely not the census lady.
Census Lady: "So should I put Christian?"
Me: Now that his name was on the sheet of paper... "No, you can write Hindu, because he's Hindu."
Census Lady: "Children?"
Me: "No children."
Census Lady: "Ok madam, thank you very much. This was just an education census so we need to ask you these details"
Me: " Not a problem, thank you. Bye"

So the poor lady cannot be blamed for asking me the questions she did, she was just doing her job. And there are other such government surveys which are conducted, with questions which were formed pre-independence and still queried for statistical extrapolation.
We have to accept that the Indian society is driven by religion. It is ridiculous but it is a fact.
In every form we fill out we have to write in our religion and caste. What difference does it make to me? It just reminds me that I was born a Christian and have to just stop myself from writing an essay on how I don't follow any religion.
So do you think that there will ever be a day when the government will not ask me what religion I belong to? I hope so.
Because as my Facebook status says, I am "spiritual but not religious"

- Kavisha Pinto

Guess what? I am nice.

I can never think of myself as a nice person, for one, the way I treat my poor husband (ask him). Facebook has innumerable quizzes. You can find out if you actually have the I.Q of Einstein or if you don't know who Einstein is then your I.Q is probably inching towards double digit negatives anyway.

I took a test around personalities and guess what the verdict was? 'You are a nice person' it said. Nice? Me? The bloody test must be all wrong.

I know I am quirky and I have my moments (good and bad), and that does not make me unlikeable but that definitely does not make me nice.

And don't get me wrong, I like nice but only when it is just right. If someone overdoes the 'nice' bit I get a little bit suspicious (eh, what did I tell you about me being quirky)

So then what actually defines a nice person. If I hold the door out for you I'm being polite, not nice. If I smile at you that means I actually don't mind you or probably like you (in a platonic way), I am not being nice.

And if I am nice to only people I want to be nice to, does that make me a nice person overall? I don't think so.

People will never remember me as nice and I hope they don't. Things that may go down in my eulogy could be humour, laughter, non-stop chatter but definitely not nice.

I'm waiting to take other tests on Facebook, maybe next time it will be revealed that I was Cleopatra in my previous life and in this life God made me fat to strike a balance.

In the group of écrivains

This is with all due respect to writers' forums online. I agree it is a great way to showcase your writing. The audience is also larger, unlike my blog where I have to send the link to everybody in my address book, from "Customer Care" to my gay cousin Ray.

And then it doesn't stop there, I have to send follow up mails to make sure they have read my blog. "Please let me know what you think. Leave a comment." And there's usually nothing in there either.
Of course, "Customer Care" always sends a mail saying, "This is not a monitored mail box. Please do not send us any mails. Do you think we are interested in your mundane my-life-is-so-boring blog? If we receive any more mails about your blog you will be hearing from our lawyer."

So, like I said, online writers' forums are good in that sense. You know, twisted attention-seeking people like me, with the I-want-to-be-famous-now attitude resort to these forums; of course with the pretext that I want critiquing on my work. Dare anyone says that my writing is not good, I'd bludgeon them immediately.

Some people have fancy french words, anything french seems fancy actually, as their display names. And it doesn't stop at that, in a forum of English writers you see a lot of french words thrown into poetry, prose and sometimes "random meanderings". French is oh so romantic and chique, ooh la la. Wait, that's Spanish isn't it? It could be German for all I care; ya baby!

I am sometimes amazed at people's intellect as well at these forums, a poem I wrote and didn't quite understand myself received rave reviews. The reviews were so beautiful that it made me want to cry and give a speech. Maybe I could speak anything and the audience (intelligent as they are what with their French and German) would find it moving and lucid like my what-the-hell-is-this poetry.

I only write in English and that too with the mix of Mangalorean usages (what and all I write man). Now if I am aiming for the Booker that's got to improve eh?

Let's hope the Writers' Forum people don't read this and don't kick me out of the forum (they already ignore my work though).

Au revoir monsieurs et mademoiselles (eh eh, what do you think? oh ok, Google is just lovely)

Recycling is in my face

One morning, after greedily finishing off my breakfast, a pretzel (made in the U.K and not made in Germany), I was wiping my mouth with a paper napkin and on it was printed, 'Made from 100% recycled material.' Now that's just lovely isn't it? Recycled from what?
I have no idea where this napkin has been before and what was it masquerading as in it's previous life. If my mouth gets the fungus infection, I won't even know who to call and who to sue.

Well, I'd like to think of myself of being environment friendly, oh ok, I do get a dirty look from the Environment extra-friendlies at the 'Ladies'' when I am hurriedly pulling out tissues and also using the dryer; what! I like my hands really dry.
So ,while I am all hurrahs for recycling and making our planet a better place (courtesy Green Peace and Michael Jackson) I was just hoping that this would not literally be a foot in the mouth situation.

I want to save trees too and want to stop global warming (is it stop or slow down?) but next time I am wiping my mouth with a paper napkin I'd rather not be worrying about it's source (the paper napkin's not my mouth's).

Anyway, it has been a week now and other than two large pimples that (not so mysteriously) have appeared on my face I have so far not contracted any oral diseases and my lips seem normal, thin and pursed.

First Blood Boiling

So what's the best thing to do while hubby is hooked on to the telly watching 'First Blood'? Update your blog of course. What a lovely way to spend quality time with the spouse eh, with blood, shooting and screeching tires in the background.
Well, I am not the couch joining hubby watching the flick because, and this is what Santhosh learned about me today, I just can't stand (nor sit) Sylvester Stallone.
Ooh, ads break and the distinct rhythm of channels changing.
Anyway, coming back to Sylvester Stallone (ugh, brrr), I haven't watched any of the Rocky movies or Rambo movies. I don't know what it is about Stallone but my blood boils whenever he's on the telly. Don't you think a wall found him and slammed into him just because it didn't like him either. I also instinctively gave Stallone the finger when I saw him at (relax, you should wait for me to complete the sentence before you gasp and cause yourself premature strokes) Madame Tussuad's.
Actually, there is one movie of Stallone's I have watched, Cliffhanger and probably my extreme abhorrence for him began there. And when whatever hit his face did, it left him with only one expression for comedy, action and romance. Ok, so I am not the best candidate for the Kiss-Me-Stallone club, guilty as charged (wow, that's a phrase I haven't used in a long long time, should remember not to use it ever again, 'Guilty as charged' hehehe)
So since hubby is still glued to Stallone and I think this is the fun part because I can hear a lot of firing, I think I'll go and have another glass of that bad wine. (I'll know how bad it is tomorrow morning, and I didn't expect Sula's red to be this bad really)

Do we actually move on?

Do we actually move on? I have never fully understood what that phrase actually means. When someone you love passes away you're given 'sound advice' by people, "You should be strong; You should move on." Is being brave so important and is 'moving on' absolutely necessary.
I still think of Dada so much, even though it has been more than a year since his passing. When someone you love has been ill for long and you see them battling a disease, you keep playing those times over and over again thinking if there was something that you could have done to save them. And yes, there are times when it makes me cry hopelessly and that's because I loved and miss my Dad so much.
So what actually do people insinuate when they ask us to move on? Is it that we shouldn't think of them (the loved ones who have passed) anymore? Or should we put on a brave face and pretend that in fact death has not affected us as much?
Then again, as much as a cliche it is, we have to carry on with daily activities of life and 'pull ourselves together.' So is this another demand of the society we live in so as to not appear an emotional wreck?
Also, is there too soon a time to get back on your feet and 'move on'? I took a break and joined Santhosh in Munich just after two months of Dada's passing. And though I was still recovering from the loss, being with Santhosh and being in a different country helped me in a way that I cannot explain. You may be patronized for going on a vacation when your parent has just passed but everyone has a different way of dealing with loss.
Though death or loss doesn't sink in too soon, ultimately we do get on with things to do, simply because they have to be done. And if that's called 'moving on' maybe that's just the course life takes and we just manage to slip into it's pattern.

To Richard: Our Fun Mr.Baldy

How do you deal with the news that someone wonderful you know has just passed away? Santhosh called me a few hours ago to give me the news of Richard's passing, and I was numb. He had been battling non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma since February this year.
Richard and Santhosh met through the Maidenhead Drama Guild and were quite close. I thought he was just wonderful when I met him the first time. The next time I did meet him though he was undergoing treatment for the cancer and was almost unrecognizable but in the best of spirits nevertheless. He maintained a blog (Mr.Baldy's Lymphoma Fun) and you'll know just how upbeat he was in spite of fighting cancer. His wit and humour just amazed me when I read his blog and of course all of us were hoping that he would recover.
At a time like this you think back and wonder if you should have said something even at the risk of sounding corny, 'Richard, sorry about the cancer but let me know if there's anything I can do to help'
At the risk of sounding corny now and awfully cliched I am going to say just what I feel. We'll miss Richard terribly and I wish things didn't turn out the way they did.
Sam, you're being thought about every minute. And though I am not much of a prayer person I promise a few of them will go out tonight for Rich, you and the kids.
Like Sam posted in Rich's blog I am sure his conversation with St.Peter at the Pearly Gates will go on just fine.

The Mumbai Attacks: Me too

Not to be left behind what with everyone blogging on the Mumbai terror attacks (is 'terror attack' even an acceptable phrase? Oh sue me, I was not born with an English dictionary down my throat) here I am.
We were having curry at this Indian place when my friend received a text from her father saying that he was alright. She turned to me asked me if there was something going on in Mumbai. I was busy making sure my 'Kheema Pao' reached me and had no idea that while I was stuffing my face terrorists had struck in Mumbai.
That night the BBC were covering the Mumbai attacks. Shots of the Taj Hotel kept appearing on the screen and no one was sure of what had actually happened. All I heard was people were being held hostage, some people were killed and that too at three different locations in Mumbai.
Well, call me thick skinned but after that heavy dinner I went to bed and slept soundly.
When I got to work the next day no one seemed to mention the attack. Thank God for the Internet and live streaming. I got onto CNN IBN for the news and it was shocking.
For three days I was hooked to NDTV and CNN IBN on my computer switching between the two channels to get the latest update.
And if you ask me why was I so hooked and in what way did this whole thing affect me, I wouldn't be able to answer that. The fact that so many people lost their lives and underwent trauma just saddened me, no explanation for that either.
I tried to imagine what would it feel like if I was waiting to board a train and boom! dead or worse dying; or having an exquisite dinner at a five star restaurant and bham! sorry for the inconvenience but you have just been hit by a bomb. It's just horrifying.