Digging for Meaning

Indian middle class is many things. one of it is being insanely twisted in its logic and morality. let me give you a few examples. 1. a friend was telling me how a relative of hers questioned her staying in andheri saying 'all the girls in andheri smoke.. u want to smoke that's why you want to stay in andheri.' :P hilarious, yes. but i cannot begin to fathom the way we micro-stereotype everything, especially about women and 'behavior'. 2. while in a group, we were discussing how Urdu had evolved in India and its rich heritage.then the discussion veered to, how urdu is not the native language of Kashmir, with ladakhis, dogris and kashmiri being the most spoken.(this was in context of compulsory education of Urdu to ladakhi kids whose mother tounge is not Urdu.) all of a sudden, a apparently well educated engineer amongst us says 'they should ban urdu'.. asked why, he said 'because this is hindustan. why advocate a muslim language' i was left speechle...

was reading Maupassant's 'Suicides'. Funny how story tellers so often chose to extract the marrow of life through depiction of death. Its as if a secret code is agreed upon before becoming a published writer. (Well the postmodern writers do scratch at the 'irascible million private pains of life' (oh.. I think i could be one :D what utter bullshit I came up with 'irascible million private pains of life'. :P) through depiction of mundane life. But then again, its as if through that mundaneness they are celebrating the futile journey towards death. So its either you celebrate life through death, or death through life. Never one by oneself.) I want to challenge this polar duality in the popular thought culture. There's either reason or spirituality/faith. There's either us or them. Let me illustrate. Me and a few friends a while back were discussing education, doing PhD etc where the subject veered elsewhere.. where I was trying to say how the linear lo...

12/6/08 I was sitting in the gallery, looking out vaguely, when I felt as if there lied a thin veil of fog between me and the trees and the building at a distance. It wasn’t a fog heavy with promise of rain or the shimmering veil of obscurity born of bright burning sun. It didn’t exist except for the notion of it born of the condition singular to that time. Then I though, mightn’t it be the being that I talk of, the supernatural, the god, the repository of all loose ends of logic? (suddenly at this point myself wondering of the beauty of the words I just wrote… repository of all loose ends of logic. :D hmm.. I have potential then. And I seek out the ducktales theme song and relishing in the crunchy munchy song. Must find the hindi version.) I believe in the power of belief. And for the sake of form, (or something else, I don’t know) I believe in a supernatural entity that pervades all, continuous and ever present, dynamic: the force that aligns and directs. For comprehension I...