Love in a wired world.....

Last week, idly surfing the TV channels, I chanced upon a Tamil movie. The movie must have been made a decade ago and was a tender love story which involved many twists and turns in the plot. Central to the progress of the plot was the idea of communication (or lack of it).

The heroine does not have a telephone at home and has to go to the neighbour’s house or to a phone booth to call the hero. This often leads to strange situations where she is not able to inform him of some important happening in her life, or pass on vital information like the fact that she has to leave town immediately. While he waits to meet her at the designated spot, she passes by within yards of him on a crowded railway platform, and the two do not see each other. We almost feel like crying out, ‘Turn and look. She is leaving on that train.”

I am sure many of us would recall similar situations in numerous Indian movies, in all languages, where misunderstandings created poignant situations and carried the plot forward.

With the advent of the ubiquitous mobile phone, our movies have lost much of their old-world charm. When you are constantly connected through voice or text, how can there be a lack of communication? There is a surfeit of it, and our scriptwriters can no longer bank on the old tool of miscommunication. In the process, however, our stories have lost some of that poignancy that characterized movies made even a decade ago.

In fact, it has reached the other extreme. A recent ad for a mobile service provider features a young couple texting each other. Only at the end do we realize that they are not far apart, but on the same park bench and that, in fact, the man is lying on the girl’s lap. Why text, when you can look into the eyes of your beloved and say what you want to say? Where is the romance here?

Being constantly connected, constantly in each other’s lives, can be overwhelming. But one cannot deny that today’s lovers will not suffer for want of receiving that all-important message, or vital piece of information that may make or mar their relationship.

A Milestone

I am a year old today, on Blogger!

Just a year ago, I started this blog, having no clue what I was going to write, who would read it, and if anyone would read it at all. Still, it was an opportunity to do what I love best – to write.

However, unlike my husband, I shied away from marketing my blog. While he told everyone about his blog, I kept quiet unless I was persuaded to tell them my blog address.(No, I have nothing against marketing. It just isn't me,that's all.) And yet, you came, all of you came and read my posts, and sometimes left comments. I have found some wonderful friends, even if I have not met most of them in person.

Unlike other prolific bloggers, I have not reached my 50th or 100th post; this is only my 20th! But it feels great when I am missed; when you come and visit my blog to see if I have updated it. It makes me carry on, even when I have nothing to write about, or when I start doubting if I can write at all.

Thanks, guys and gals, thank you for your encouraging words and comments. And those of you, who came and did not comment, thank you too. By just visiting my blog, you give me the strength and courage to carry on, to keep the writer in me alive!


image courtesy:www.ptmortgage.com/blog/category/miscellaneous/ - birthday cake.

Music & Lyrics

The song “Jai Ho!” from the movie “Slumdog Millionaire” seems to be a resounding success, winning not only the Oscar but the hearts of thousands of people. A lot of young people I know, who do not understand the Hindi lyrics, have nevertheless taken to the song. As Rahman himself said in an interview, the phrase “Jai Ho!” gives a burst of positive energy – probably why it became stupendously popular, even though we know it is not one of his best compositions.

Some songs have that magic – they come to mean so many things to us. Not just the lyrics, or the music, or the tempo; there seems to be an extra, magical ingredient that gives the song a special something. Something that lifts it from a musical composition of words, into a song that stirs emotions and feelings in us, a song that sometimes even brings solace to our wounded hearts, or makes us feel we are not alone.

There are many such songs that have come to mean a great deal to me – songs that have helped me face difficult situations, songs that have helped me understand life. Probably because so many memories are connected to these songs, even today when I listen to them, those emotions come flooding back.

One song that kept me going during the two and a half months that I lived in Bombay alone was from the movie “1942 – A Love Story”. My husband was in Chennai, and my little daughter was with my parents in Coimbatore. I had to stay back in Bombay to finish my thesis, and every evening I would come back home to an empty flat. The loneliness was terrible, and there were times when I would feel like throwing up everything and running home to my family. Only the thought of chucking up all the hard work kept me from doing it. That, and the song "Yeh safar bahut hai katin magar/ Na udhaas ho mere hamsafar”. I listened to it so many times during the day, over and over again, especially the lines “Nahi rehenewale yeh mushikilen/ Hai yeh agale mod pe manzilen”.
And yes, the destination was just around the corner; I only had to keep going till I reached it.

I find I listen to different kinds of music at different times, to suit different moods. But when I am really down in the dumps, I go back to classical music. I need the strains of Carnatic kritis to calm me down, or to lift up my spirits. One of my favourite kritis is the beautiful “Rangapura Vihara” in Brindavanasaranga. I have listened to it since childhood, and MS’s beautiful soulful voice only added to the magic of the song. It has the power still, to lift me up from the darkest depths. Many other kritis are also important to me and although I do not always understand the words, the music or the raga lifts my spirit.

That is why I feel it is not just the music or the lyrics, but a certain something, a special ingredient, which gives these songs a magical allure that they may continue to weave their spell on us.

Hidden Strengths

Just when you think that things are going along smoothly, life has a way of pulling the rug from under your feet. Suddenly, you find yourself in a situation where you need more than your wits to rescue you. You have to discover hidden strengths from within you, not just to get out of the situation, but to overcome and transform it.

It has happened many times in my life, and in the lives of my friends, and I am always amazed at the hidden inner resources that help us during these testing times.

Last week, it happened again.

Rejoining duty after medical leave of 4 weeks, my husband was surprised to find that his services were no longer required by the company. When he called to inform me, I was amazed that my first reaction was not one of fear or insecurity, but relief. I knew he had been unhappy the past year, and I thought this was the best thing to happen. I always believe that when one door shuts in your face, many others open, filled with opportunity.

As friends called and poured out their feelings over the phone or through mail, I was stunned, and grateful. I realized that I had much to be thankful for – a home of my own, good friends, enough money to live by at least for the time being, and above all, we had each other. Every situation is a learning experience, and this has been a fantastic one so far.

Offers of help and possible job opportunities continue to pour in from concerned friends. They are surprised to see that we have taken it so well. But then, what have we lost? A job, yes. In these troubled times, a steady job is important.

But what we have gained is immense. The understanding that this is not the end, that there is more to life than a job you have held for 30 years; the love of so many friends that gives us the energy to carry on ; and the knowledge that, together, we can ride the storm out.

A Morning at the Beach

I am fortunate to live near the beach, in Thiruvanmiyur, a blessing that most inhabitants of our colony take for granted. Recently, however, the local citizen's association has become very active and is  getting involved in various civic issues concerning our locality. On January 2nd, they had called for volunteers to come and clean the beach which was covered with a lot of debris washed up by the sea. I was not in town for that occasion, but this Sunday (Jan 25th), I joined a number of volunteers to clean the beach again. This was to be an ongoing activity, as cleaning is never a one-time job.

Armed with gloves and huge garbage bags, we met at the beach at 6 in the morning and soon spread out, our eyes open for every bit of plastic, every piece of paper. The local fishermen watched us bemused, as they went about their morning routine. Barely three weeks had passed since the beach had been cleaned, and I am still amazed at the amount of garbage we picked over the next two hours!

Paper, crushed plastic cups  , broken beer bottles, gutka packets, plastic sachets, straws - what came to mind was the careless and callous attitude we have towards public spaces. These were not thrown there by the local fishermen; rather they were left behind by the people who came from far and near to enjoy the fresh air and the sea. Families on picnics, or lovers looking for some privacy, all use the beach, but the least we can do is to leave the place as clean as it was when we came in. This  lack of civic sense is something that alarms me, but there is still hope.

While I was picking up the junk, a middle-aged man from the nearby apartment  sauntered by on his morning walk. He had not been aware of the beach cleaning activity, but the moment he understood what we were doing, he pitched in and did his bit of collecting. Not only that, he seemed determined to come again. Slowly, I am sure as awareness rises, we will feel collective responsibility for our shared public spaces,and  will take care to keep them clean and beautiful. Till then, I suppose, we will have to spend a Sunday morning every month cleaning up the beach.

(Photo courtesy: chennai.metblogs.com/2007/10/15/thiruvanmiyur-beach/)

Staying Connected...

This seems to be my season for re-uniting with lost friends!

 Recently, we went to Bombay for a wedding. A friend's daughter was getting married, and it was the perfect opportunity to meet our old friends. I was travelling to the city after 12 years, and a lot had changed, and was still changing. It took us ages to go from one place to the other especially because of the Metro work, but the warmth with which our friends welcomed us more than made up for that.

Twelve years is a long time, and children had grown into adults, found jobs, married and started families. Neighbourhoods had changed, and new housing blocks had sprouted where once there were open spaces. Our old colony had changed so much, become busier and more crowded.

 And yet, some things had not changed. As I ascended the steps to my friend Pushpa's house, I remembered going there thrice a week for my yoga lessons. I will never forget the look on Pushpa's face! She had been thinking of me constantly for the past few days, and there I was, in the flesh! There was so much to catch up with, phone numbers  and email ids to be exchanged.

Why do we do it? Why do we go out of the way to locate our lost friends? What drives us to catch up with the lost years? What do we gain from this exercise? 

I received a mail recently that brought up these questions with regard to my previous post where I had spoken of meeting my school mates after 32 years. The sender of the mail wanted to know why it was so important to have a reunion which according to him/her was "regression". I do not agree. I think the answers are very obvious. 

Every relationship we have, whether it is as a friend, spouse, sibling, child, or parent, is a cord of connectivity. A part of us is there in that relationship; we invest not just time, but emotions and feelings into every relationship. We share so much together, and when we lose that relationship, that friendship, a part of us is lost forever. Somewhere we do not feel whole and complete. This feeling of not being complete drives us to look for the missing parts of our own selves, and that is exactly why we feel complete and happy when we find our lost friends.

 And not, as my misguided friend had written, because we were unhappy with our present lives and were looking for something that was lacking.

Threads of connectivity

Something wonderful happened on December 19th. Thirty-two years after passing out of school, the class of '76 of Railway Mixed High School, Madurai had a re-union.

To me, it was a miracle. I had studied there between 1972 and 1975, leaving half-way during Class X. I had not met any of my former classmates since then, and my earlier attempts to keep in touch through letters petered out soon. Thirty odd years later, out of the blue, one friend calls up, and soon it is an avalanche of phone calls, mails, and messages. It was as if a door had opened, and they were all back in my life. It still is a wonder to me how they found me, for I did not expect them to remember me at all!

It was wonderful to go for the reunion and meet everyone, especially because we were all looking so different! Almost everyone had grown(in girth!) but some of the "boys" were un-recognizable!! We had so much fun laughing at the "Then & Now" slide show and catching up with the lost years.Suddenly, it was as if we had re-discovered a lost slice of our own selves.

I have often read about the inter-connectedness of things in the universe - that we are all connected in so many ways by invisible threads of connectivity. The reunion brought this to me very forcefully. Looking around at the happy faces and listening to each one's story, I realized the truth of John Donne's assertion - "No man is an island". Each one of us there was connected to each other through our common experiences in our old school, experiences that had shaped us and guided us through life and brought us back together.