Egotism ....a lifelong romance

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

The People Patent

I had to smile, when a few weeks ago, my friend answered his phone with a very professional-sounding inquiry into my starting point and intended destination. After furnishing the required information and while waiting for his www-acquired expertise to come through the phone, I got to wondering about how lost I’d be without my little network of people on earth, and I don’t just mean on the meandering streets of Philadelphia. The only reason I’d call him at an ungodly hour on a Sunday afternoon would be if I were clueless as to where in the world I was, literally (‘figuratively’ would have entailed a different story and a different counselor, depending upon situation, time at disposal and required levels of damage control).

This is not to say that I don’t value my relationship with my mapquest-accessing pal for anything other than matters of direction, but merely, that he is one of the few people in the world that can be counted upon to always be within arm’s length of a computer and a click away from the internet (much as the latter pervades my own life, I haven’t been able to figure out access to it while driving – I’m dangerous enough with one hand on the wheel and one on the phone).

Like most human beings, I characterize human relationships among the top on my list of priorities in life and like most human beings – though most wont admit it – I also tend to categorize my relationships. By this, I don’t mean the seventh-grade, slam-book ranking that goes -- forever, best, good, fair, which IMO doesn’t hold water beyond the age of 12 – if I call them friends, they sure as hell be good, the rest are acquaintances, whom I either associate with a name or a face; occasionally, the person that spent eons at the supermarket check-out counter creeps in, but that’s only cos my brain seems to have too many niches in which to store random pieces of information (an ideal mind is a human workshop).

So, while my aforesaid pal holds exclusive rights to helping me map my co-ordinates in times of dire need, another can be sure to receive a shrill, rambling voicemail on the night of the 14th of April, which when perceptible, breaks down to an SOS tax question. Then there’s the one that will be called upon to satisfy my argumentative urges post midnight on a sleepless weekend, another that doesn’t fail to satiate my sense of humor when Bill Maher is off vacationing and my Friends DVDs begin to get redundant, a pal with a slightly more poignant bent of mind painstakingly discusses matters of the heart during vulnerable moments, and when the goings-on in my own life become too painful to discuss, there’d be the friend that can philosophize on matters of less import. Another manages to keep a straight face while I earnestly draw parallels between my life and those of the lofty women of Sex & the City, there's the poltically-inclined pal that will be party to that stimulating discussion in the event of such bafflements as Dubya (and I don’t mean that in the “nucular” sort of way), another laughs away your many worries when you’re too tired to cry and then there's the shoulder to cry on when you do garner the strength to do so…

Regardless of where they stand on my little human map, it goes without saying that each of them is indispensable. Another one of the million things I cannot understand about those coupled up souls that spend all their time between them – as far as I know, you can’t spout Friends wisdom and sing praises of John McCain unless you are me – so you gotta have at least two people to direct those penchants to. And I bet every human being is blessed with his or her own idiosyncratic combination.

And what better time to ruminate on relationships than in the aftermath of re-discovering my oldest one ever – this past weekend I made a three thousand mile trip to meet my first ever friend after sixteen long years – the girl I got seated next to in kindergarten cos I would not open my mouth and she wouldn’t shut hers. Needless to say, it worked like a charm cos now I cant seem to shut mine as well. We’re still poles apart – she decided to stay back in the home country, do what she loves for a living, fell in love in her teens and married the same man a decade later. I decided to leave the motherland in the quest for a “better” life, am still flailing about in a career that could only ever be second best and haven’t yet found that elusive someone to spend the rest of my life with. But the four hours we spent discussing our second grade teacher, her first pet, my first limerick and the banner that greeted us everyday at our alma mater, we could have been but two peas in a pod. I’ve come a long way since then, but I could bet you anything that at age ten, I would have been quite lost without those fantasy walks through the ‘magic’ palace and shared box lunches....

It’s that one chord you strike with a person that sometimes makes all the difference and without it, your life seems so out of tune.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Oh, for the love of God! - the Sequel

Every time I reel from the after-effects of a Dubya mishap and wonder what prompted me to make the trip halfway round the globe to this country, India answers with an episode – usually one that makes me shake my head and sigh in resignation and say, "oh, that's why". That's not necessarily a good thing, but it goes a long way in explaining why I'm not a stone's throw away from a home-cooked meal of lentils and rice (which can be surprisingly delicious when done right).

The exceptionally gifted policy-makers in my home country can always be counted upon to do something jaw-droppingly stupid, like impose curfews in night-clubs or decide which cable service you can or cannot buy. I might not necessarily care one way or other, but I'd like it to be my choice, is all. My other beef with them is their sheer inability to get priorities straight – I’d rather they insist you pick up your trash, for instance, than regulate physical affec(ta)tion in public places (both are known to cause irrepressible nausea, but at least in one case, it’s not cos of the pinworms in your intestines).

The latest furor is over the release of – surprise, surprise - The Da Vinci Code. Apparently, the information and broadcasting minister decided to first watch it to figure out if the rest of India should be allowed to do so. To a reasonable human being like myself, this begs the question: are we talking about a country or a third grade class? They might as well set parental filters on the control panel that India’s government is fast becoming.

The head of the Catholic Secular Forum has begun a “hunger strike until death” so the film can be banned. It’s not really my place but this forum doesn’t sound ‘secular’ to me. And if this could get any more ridiculous, Christians account for less than two percent of the country’s population. I know what you’re thinking – if two percent can threaten to ban a film what could eighty percent do? Simple -- they could shut it down altogether - a fate that Deepa Mehta’s thought-provoking and extremely relevant Water met with a few years ago, prompting her to flee to another country, shoot it under a pseudonym and simulate the irreproducible Ganges, before finally being released last month.

So, even while the technology hub in Bangalore manufactures the fastest processor to open us to the world of information, the morally conscious thought police decides to shield us from it. And boy, do I feel safe and secure under its (s)mothering. Now, if only it would drop some change in my pocket as well, so I can quit thinking altogether…

Not that Americans are that much saner. If the likes of Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson could have their way, I’d probably be denied the liberty to watch Hanks make a mess of Robert Langdon myself. But the difference in this country is that, there is bound to be a sardonic Trey Parker to shut up a screaming Falwell. And for every incredibly close-minded, religiously blinded, kool-aid drinking cult, you can count on a pragmatic and relevant ACLU.

Last I checked, India was a democracy. I wish we’d treat it like one and allow the Mehtas to reveal horrifying truths about practiced Hinduism even while the Narendra Modis are practicing them....Cos that's what a democracy is about...It isn’t always popular or homogenous, it isn’t intended to be. But it’s functional -- as functional as a billion people with a billion different viewpoints can get…..