Of worms and chaff

There's something about "rising" that makes me stop and wonder. The sun rising over the horizon, a monarch butterfly rising out of its chrysalis, a loaf of bread rising in the oven. There's this whiff of otherworldliness to the act of rising that I just can't seem to put my finger on. Its almost as if it this process of rising is not meant to happen. That somehow it just doesn't fit in this world. Contrary to what my dear wife claims (and exclaims), I am not a pessimist. I consider myself, for lack of a better phrase, a critical realist. And my experience (short as it may be) weaves a narrative of this world, this mortal coil, as the bard puts it, winding down.. drowning.. imploding on itself. The Psalmist was right when he said that thousands fall on one side, only to be worsened by tens of thousands falling on the other. In the midst of so much falling, is my analysis of "rising" being odd, peculiar and downright ridiculous that far-stretched? I...

The Ayanavaram Tea Company This is the story of tea Made by a girl you see For a guy who didn't like it very much But the tea itself was pretty good as such. Now this guy didn't like tea at all But what could he do, to his appall This girl didn't have a coffee stall But sooner or later, for her tea he'd fall Chai tea means tea twice In the land of masala and spice So just say Chai and you'll be fine And teach the Starbucks staff to get in line Now back to our main story Of blood and guts and glory Oops sorry, that's another one I've probably had too much Lipton The girl was in her house many miles away The guy was in his, on the bay Thank God for cellular phones you might say Rollover minutes every month? Hell No way! Their first flirtatious chat some five years back Was about the different kinds of tea and snack they would serve at their wedding reception If they would ever get there in their wil...

(Originally published on Thanksgiving day 2013) That astute thinker and commentator on issues of race - Russell Peters, who also happpens to be a comedian, said something very interesting in one of his routines . He said, "The whole world's mixing. There's nothin' you can do about it. Eventually we're all going to become some sorta hybrid mix of Chinese and Indian. Its inevitable. They're the two largest populations in the world. So you can run from us now, but sooner or later..." you know. Yea, you know, you pervert. As funny as that sounds, its got that weird ring of truth to it. Maybe 300 years from now, we might all be ... beige. However, what strikes me is that Russell Peters, who has half Indian DNA, has never spoken about the racism so prevalent in the second largest democracy in the world. My country has probably the largest socially and culturally sanctioned institution to systematically segregate people on the basis of color and...

As I read this article , I wept. I wept for my nation's capital. I wept, hearing the thousands of women who had unimaginable injustices done to them. I wept, seeing the brutality with which women are treated by both men and women. I wept, stricken by the lethargy which has overcome the government in protecting women. But more than anything, I wept bitterly, seeing the apathy with which men deal with the injustices committed against women. I remember going to church one Sunday, and hearing one of my favorite pastors preach. I distinctly remember Rev. Mike Peppin's exhortation of the book of Jeremiah, chapter 17. "The heart of man is desperately evil." he said. As on that Sunday, even today, that phrase, desperately evil , sends shivers down my spine. Just think about it - Desperately Evil - that somehow a part of our ancient evolutionary instinct is to be horrendously self-seeking. That was the first thought that came to mind when I read about the grue...

Its true. Sad isn't it? Yesterday being Independence day and all. I mean, what exactly are we celebrating? 100 years of struggle to overthrow the British Raj, only to be bogged down by 67 years of self-directed oppression? The common human being in India is oppressed in many many ways. Sometimes I wonder if my fellow citizens actually invent ways of oppression - desi ishtyle, forming special oppression sub-committees and all. But you know the form of oppression that really really ticks me off? The prejudice against each and every melanocyte of dark-colored skin. Its like there is this hidden graph somewhere, that shows there must be a positive linear (almost exponential) correlation between the color of someone's skin and their worth. The lighter your skin color, the more popular, sexy, hot or generally awesome you are. And don't even get me started with how this mostly applies to women. Just thinking about this is making me punch a hole in my keyboard, which ...

Dear Mr.Swamy I recently heard that Harvard dropped your summer courses covering economics in Asia. I also heard that your article in a local Mumbai newspaper titled "How to wipe out Islamic terror" (no more available on the newspaper's website) was the cause of this exclusion from Harvard's summer course catalog. While I am sad that you, as an Indian were excluded from one of the finest institutions of higher learning in the world, I uphold their decision to remove you, sir, from their faculty. I believe anyone with a conscience would deem your article as supremacist snobbery at best and plain ol' bigotry at worst. And this underlying attitude of yours which showed its ugly face in the above-mentioned article of yours was perhaps simultaneously your worst professional move (Harvard and all..) and your best political one. Who knows? Why I consider this to be your best political move is the fact that you've roused a number of hindu nationalists in the ...

What is this thing called hope? Where does it come from? What is it made of? Having confronted an answer to these questions many times before, I presumed it would seem petty and trivial to revisit the theme. Little did I know that a singular experience would make my most colossal version of this entity that I knew well, seem almost facetious. Sometime back, I had the privilege to visit, with my friends, a home called S.H.E.L.T.E.R. (Don't mind the acronym; it stands for something I couldn't remember past the first time I heard it). There are three reasons for which I would grant a visit to be a privilege: 1. If it involves Eric Kandel 2. If it involves Eric Kandel and 3. If in retrospect, my mind seems to be reduced to a state of utter humility and "smallness" - for lack of a better word. And as you would have rightly pointed out, this particular visit fell in the third category. For this was one of the most beautiful homes I've ever been to; One filled with all t...