கொஞ்சம் பெண்

Whatsappஇல் ஒரு உரல்/அம்மி /நெல் அவிப்பது போன்று படம் போட்டு அதனருகில் 'இதில்  சமைத்த காலங்களில் நோயில்லாமல் இருந்தோம்' போன்று வரும் அறிவாளித்தனங்கள். இது போன்றவற்றை பார்க்கும் போது இதில் எத்துணை பேர் உரலில் மாவாட்டி இருக்கிறார்கள் என்று யோசித்திருக்கிறேன். அல்லது அம்மியில் மசாலா அரைத்திருப்பார்களா? இவை எல்லாம் பெண்களை  உடல் உழைப்பை சுரண்டிய விஷயங்கள். இவற்றை பகிர்வதன் மூலம் இவர்கள் சொல்வது அந்த சுரண்டலை இப்போது நிகழ்த்த முடியவில்லை என்ற ஆதங்கத்தை.

Because I like Frida?

என் மாம்மை (அம்மாவின் அம்மா) பற்றிய எனது நினைவுகள் எல்லாம் அவர் வீட்டு அடுப்படியில் இருப்பது என்பது தற்காலிகமானது அல்ல. எனக்கு, சிவகாசியில், அந்த பெரிய வீட்டில் அவரை வேறெங்கும் பார்த்த ஞாபகமே இல்லை. வேறு இடங்களில் பார்க்கும் போதும் வீட்டை கழுவுவது, பரப்பி கிடைக்கும் சாமான்களை எடுத்து வைப்பது என்று வேலை மட்டுமே வாழ்க்கையாய் இருந்தார். அவருக்கு வேறு என்ன பிடிக்கும் - அவர் சிவாஜி ரசிகையா இல்லை MGR ரசிகையா என்று தெரியாது. வீட்டு வேலைகள் தவிர அவருக்கு வேறு அடையாளம் இருந்ததாய் நினைவில்லை.

பெண்களை வீட்டு வேலை பார்க்க சொல்வதில் இருக்கும் அரசியல் அவர்களை உடல் உழைப்பின் மூலம் வெறும் வேலைக்காரிகளாய் மாற்றுகிறது. அவர்களுக்கு என்று ஒரு சுயத்தை இல்லாமல் செய்து அவர்களை வீட்டிற்குள் அடைக்கிறது. இது வெறும் பெண்ணியம் அல்ல. நம் அம்மாக்களும் , பாட்டிகளும்  தங்கள் சுயங்களை இழந்து, அடுப்படி தவிர வீட்டின் பிற பாகங்களே தெரியாது வாழ்ந்து மடிந்ததன் நிதர்சனம்.

இன்றும் வேலைக்கு போகும் பெரும்பாலான பெண்கள் வீட்டு வேலை பார்க்க நிர்பந்திக்க படுவதும் (அல்லது அன்பாய் வற்புறுத்த படுவதும்), மறுப்பவர்கள் பெண்ணியவாதிகள் என்றும் , ஆப் பாய்ல்கள் என்று எள்ளி பேசப்படுவதின் உளவியல் இதுதான். வாஷிங் மெஷின்கள் வந்து விட்ட நாட்களில் கைகளில் துவைக்க சொல்வதன் வன்முறை, ஒரு முறை உட்கார்ந்து கைகளில் துவைத்து பார்த்தால் மட்டுமே விளங்கும்.

ஒரு பெண் காலை 5 மணிக்கு எழுந்து வீட்டு வேலைகள் பார்த்துவிட்டு, வேலைக்கும் சென்றுவிட்டு, திரும்பவும் வீட்டு வேலை பார்க்க முடியும் எனில் வேலைக்கு போகும் ஆண்கள் அந்த வேலைகளில் சரி பாதியை ஏன் பார்க்க முடியாது? இது சாதாரண நியாயம் மட்டுமே - இதுவே இங்கு புரட்சிகர பெண்ணியமாக பார்க்க படும் அவலமான சமூகத்தில் வாழ்கிறோம்.

இந்த நியாயம் எடுத்து வைக்கப்படும் போது, ஒரு ஆண் இதை தன்னுடைய அதிகாரத்திற்கு விடப்பட்ட சவாலாக பார்க்கிறான். இதன் எதிர்வினை - நைச்சியமாக நம் முன்னோர்கள் எப்படி வாழ்ந்தார்கள் என்றும் , ஆணவமாக திமிர் பிடித்தவள் என்றுமாக இருக்கிறது.

இதன் நீட்சியாகவே சுக பிரசவ பேச்சும் இருக்கிறது. நானும் என் மகன் பிறப்பதற்கு முன் இதுபோல் பேசி இருக்கிறேன் - 'அந்த காலத்தில் பெண்கள் புதருக்குள் போய் பிள்ளை பெற்றுவிட்டு வரும் போது ஏன் இப்போது இவ்வளவு ஆர்ப்பாட்டம்?' என்று. அதன் பின் பல முறை பிரசவ அறைகளில் நின்ற அனுபவம் normal birth  என்பது எத்தகைய ஒரு  misnomer என்று புரிய வைத்தது. எனக்கு தெரிந்து எந்த பெண்ணும் இயற்க்கை பிரசவம் பண்ண வேண்டி கேட்பதில்லை. நம் வாழ்வு முறைகள் மாறும் போது அதற்கேற்ப நாம் மாறாவிட்டால்  மரணங்கள் தவிர்க்க முடியாததாக ஆகி விடுகிறது. இது போன்ற கிறுக்கர்களிடம் மாட்டிக்கொள்ளும் பெண்ணே இப்போதும் மரணமடைகிறாள்.

கார்ல் மார்க்ஸ் கணபதியின் இந்த வார்த்தைகளே இதை எழுத தோன்ற வைத்தது.
"நாம் பேசுகிற பழம்பெருமை எல்லாவற்றிலும் உள்ளார்ந்த ஆணாதிக்கக் கூறுகள் நிரம்பிக் கிடக்கின்றன. அவளை ஒப்பிட இப்போது உள்ள தலைமுறைப் பெண்களுக்கு நிறைய ஓய்வு நேரம் கிடைக்கிறது. முந்தைய தலைமுறைப் பெண்களைப் போல உடலுழைப்பு இல்லாததால் இந்த தலைமுறைப் பெண்கள் நிறைய நோய்களைப் பெற்றுக்கொள்கிறார்கள் என்று முனகல் சத்தம் கேட்டுக்கொண்டே இருக்கிறது. 
பகல் முழுக்க உடலுழைப்பு இல்லாமல் இருந்துவிட்டு, அந்தியில் நடக்கப்போகும் ஒருத்தியின் செயல் மேனாமினுக்கித்தனம் அல்ல. அதுவொரு விடுதலை. அவள் தலைமுறைகளாக பிணைக்கப்பட்டிருந்த சங்கிலியில் இருந்து தன்னை விடுவித்துக்கொள்கிறாள் என்றே பொருள். நடப்பதால் எடை குறையவேண்டும் எனும் நிபந்தனை கூட அவசியமில்லை."

அவர் சொல்வதேதான் நான் சொல்வதும் - இன்றைய பெண்கள் இங்கு கடந்து வந்திருக்கும் தூரம் சொற்பமே. இன்னமும் இந்த சமூகத்தின் பல இற்றுப் போன கூறுகளையும் தாண்டியும், உடைத்தும் வர வேண்டி இருக்கிறது. பெண்களுக்கு நான் சொல்வதும் அதுவே - தயவு செய்து திரும்பி விடாதீர்கள்.. 

Moonrise Kingdom

Another long flight was made palatable by a delightful movie to watch and savor. I picked 'Moonrise Kingdom' by the name of Wes Anderson in it. Though not a great fan of his works, I like the stories he pick up and I was glad that I watched it.

'Moonrise Kingdom' also boosts Fraces McDormand - one of my favorite actors from the days of watching her in that all-time favorite Coen Brother's 'Fargo'. She doesn't disappoint either.

'Moonrise Kingdom' tells a story of childhood romance and the initial exploration of sexuality. It is the story of Sam, an young orphan - 12 yrs old - and Suzy, again of the same age. Both troubled kids, with mood swings and depression as well, elope from their island home and the search for them in that small community creates fissures while the kids go through a passionate experience of their own.

Sam - living in a foster parents home - and attending a Khaki Scout camp - elopes with his pen pal friend, Suzy. They take a remote trial in the island and camp and survive a couple of days. Suzy's parents - Mr & Mrs Bishop (Bill Murray and Frances) - start the search along with the island police officer Mr. Sharp (Bruce Willis). Mrs. Bishop has an ongoing affair with Mr. Sharp - which seems to be an open secret with everybody in the know. 

The primary theme is the sexual initiation of Sam and Suzy - and I've to admit, at times, it was a little uneasy to watch. But the scenes were handled with a lot of sensitivity and what could've become a easy way to spice it up becomes a very tender exploration of the way the transition from a child to a teenager happens. 

The other part of the story is the dysfunctional nature of the lives of everyone - including Sam and Suzy - with Suzy going through depression episodes and Sam - labelled a troubled kid - is to put into electroshock therapy by the 'social services'. 

The island and the weather becomes an integral part of the movie with the slight moody climate of the initial scenes reach their crescendo with the storm and lightning by the time the movie reaches its climax. 

The colors and symmetry of the movie is very hard to miss and difficult to take the eyes off. The bright colors of the camp sites, Suzy's dresses, the sails, the island and squares and rectangles of the houses, the police outpost or the Scout camps and forts, the tree houses , the rooms in Suzy's house, the carpets in the climax and a hundred other details just make it such a wondrous creation of art to watch.

Of course, I was thinking of the other 'coming of age' movie by I.V.Sasi - 'Ina' (Malayalam). The story was very similar to this one but 'Ina' was a early 1980's movie with the corny problems of the 1980's Indian movie. Being in Malayalam, the movie also garnered a notorious name but I remember watching it in college days and found it to be very matured in the Indian context of what sexual themes in cinema was all about.

Then, 'Moonrise Kingdom' moves with a lot of sensitivity but also uses a lot of symbolism to get the message across. The ear-piercing scene - with the fish hook and the streak of blood dripping - showing the loss of virginity was one. The church opera sequence on 'Noye's Fludde' with reference to the big storm coming the island's way was another. The introduction of Suzy as a Raven -with all the mythical allegories that go with the raven - is another powerful one. 

Without seeing any of these, the movie alone stands very interesting in its story telling. To me, another take away is also to look at the problems in the Indian way of parenting - the suppression of sex and the consequences of the same in the 20's and later - needs a real re-thinking on how we approach sex and our kids.

Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee

Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee: An Indian History of the American West by Dee Brown

I remember the day 20 years ago, when I was standing in front of the Crazy Horse memorial - still unfinished and wondering who this man might be - for whom such a huge monument is being built in the Black Hills. I bought a book and read a little about the Sioux Indians. And the visit to the Hopi and Navajo reservations and talking to a Shaman there. While I was interested in the life and culture of these people, I was not aware of all the history of the subjugation of these people.

The book documents the period from about the late 1850s and ends with the massacre at the Wounded Knee in 1890. By the time, the book's story starts, the entire Indian population in the Eastern seaboard is wiped out or already retreated into reservations. That story probably will never be told as we've only the white man's version to go with it (probably!).

This book traces the Priarie Indians as they come under the pressure of the migration from the East towards the mineral and resource rich lands of the Mid-west. The story of the land grab organized by the government and pushing the Indians into reservations is told through the eyes of the Indians.

The story is very much a repeated cases of the government coming to the Indians to get them to agree to build a road or a fort in their land, get some treaties signed by people who does not have any concept of land ownership and then start killing them indiscriminately through war, massacres and just starving them out by putting them in reservations without provisions.

The US government goes from one massacre to another, killing women, children and animals in every instance and call it battles. The utter cowardice of what they did to these people - knowingly and methodically probably is a precursor to the later day genocides of the world. The description is extensive on every massacres and some of the big heroes of these days in American history - Lincoln, Grant, Sheridan, Sherman - come through as complicit in these acts of treachery and malice through their direct involvement or the tactical silence on doing anything to change course.

'Manifest destiny' is the name given to justify the killing of 100s of women and children and taking land by effectively killing off the men who live on it. As much as I am willing to look at the events of history by placing them in the centuries they occurred, what was done to these people - in any century - be classified as a genocide and given that it was made possible under the disguise of progress and civilization just makes it more bitter to understand.

The book probably needs a lot of time to read as each chapter documents the betrayal of these people in different places by people again and again ending up with indiscriminate killing again and again.

Since the book refer to a lot of places with the Indian names, a map for reference would've helped a lot. However that is just a small inconvenience to be able to read the beautiful names the Indians had for the full moon - like the Moon of the hoer refers to the month of June. I was just sad that we chose to use June instead of that beautiful name.

It is difficult not to feel sad when reading through the story of the brave and proud people. It is also important to understand and learn the lessons from the history and be able to check and make sure that it is never repeated.

The Kindness of Strangers

It is incredible how some days tend to be driven entirely by the kindness of absolute strangers. And sometimes that is the only way to bridge really hard days frustrated by many events. So this is a tale of a few people today who actually helped me by simply talking to me.

The incredible View from office

Ever since I started using Lyft for the commute during the short stay here, it is actually amazing to meet the kind of people - one never gets to meet - and share experiences on various things that goes on in life.

Being Monday, the day starts with a handicap. However, I got up early as I'd a flight to catch - to go to Salt Lake City for a lunch meeting and returning the same evening.

The Tree of Knowledge

Alejandro drove me from the hotel to the airport. A pleasant man - at 54 - seemed rather young. He drives Lyft from 3AM to 9AM and then, goes ahead with driving if he feels like so. When I told him about the long day ahead, he sympathized and said he understand why my hair is so gray. With a sense of humor, he was talking about the Garment dealer - who was also an Indian - who tried to recruit him for driving Semis for his warehouse. He mimicked the way the guy was chewing something in his mouth and talking.

The North Visitor center has this marble statue of Jesus

Paul picked me up for the ride from the Salt Lake City airport to Lehi where the meeting was scheduled. He was a man of information talking about the attractions in Salt Lake city and how I can plan my day to make the most of it. We started talking about the Mormons and the Mormon customs and he amused me by saying he had 6 daughters and 5 sons. And in the front windshield, his last daughter has scribbled 'I love you more than you love me - your favorite daughter' which was incredibly loving. We talked about the teenage daughters and how it is important to let them chose their lives than we deciding it for them. I couldn't agree more.

Adam and Eve looking confused about the embroidered dress

One thing everyone in SLC seemed interested to talk about - to me at least - is the Mormon faith and customs and about the LDS church. It was interesting to hear about - I've read the Book of Mormon a long while back during my bachelor days in Omaha , so it was a little easy to talk to them about it. While I don't find it very different from any other religion, it is also interesting to see what they've made of the entire Utah region - deserts, canyons and heck, the largest salt water lake - into a prosperous area. So it is always interesting to talk to them to figure what makes them so good at that.

The Temple

Dale was my next ride who drove me from Lehi to Provo. A son of a second generation Japanese immigrants - his great-grand father came to California as an immigrant and they moved to Utah eventually. He had a strange Dreamcatcher-like thing hanging on his car. Instead of the web in the middle, it had a picture of a wolf in it and he explained that it is called a 'Mandala' and the animal in the middle is one speared. I was surprised and asked him whether he speared a wolf. He didn't answer it.

The Organ in the Tabernacle

Aline picked me up to drive the 61 miles from Provo to the Temple Square in Downtown SLC. A beautiful girl, she was from Sao Paulo, Brazil and that explained the beauty instantly. She was studying English for the past 2 years in BYU and is driving cars for Lyft during the free hours. I asked her what is it she eventually want to study - and she mentioned psychology and to specialize in kids psychology. Since her language was Portuguese, she wanted learn English properly as psychology involved a lot of speaking to people. So I asked her about what she thought of France winning the Soccer world cup. She blew into anger - France stole the world cup from Brazil in 1998 and she cannot bring herself to watch France play any match after that. Of course, Brazil doesn't deserve to win this world cup but 2022 is not far and they will win. We talked about Neymar and she was mad that he made Brazil football into a laughing stock. Again, we talked about the LDS church and how there are many Brazilians in the city who congregate for the Portuguese service.

The Handcart Pioneers

Temple Square - in the middle of downtown SLC has the most beautiful, stone-built church - the first LDS church - started in 1853 - standing in the middle and an assortment of buildings 100-120 years old with two visitor centers to boot. It was beautiful and I was just a little sad that no one - other than LDS members - are allowed inside.

Sister Angela caught me walking around the exhibits in the South visitor center. I was just about to exit when she caught me. Then started a conversation which was prodding and prying to understand the mind of the other and to see if I can be made into a LDS member. I enjoyed the verbal duel with her - mostly around being agnostic and about Christianity and about family - and when I mentioned that I would've loved to go inside the Temple and see that, she said I can become a LDS member and then I can get in easily. When I asked her whether I can become a honorary member for a day and get in, she mentioned that no one has asked for a one-day membership before. We agreed to disagree and I got out.

Nothing beats the sunset in the West

After getting a text that my red-eye to Newark has been delayed by 4 hours, I was really in a foul mood to get to the airport at the end of a really long and tiring day. So I got into the TSA security check at SLC airport and removed the belt and the rest of the stuff and putting in the basket - when the TSA officer - Brian, per his badge - asks me who do I think will win the next Cricket world cup. I was pleasantly surprised and asked him how the hell he knew anything about cricket. He says he is originally from Australia and so, he follows cricket very well. We talked about the India - England series and I was not sure whether he was sad about Australia playing badly or England looking good. I told him that India will win so he needn't worry and we just laughed.

So I am sitting in the SLC airport - 11.14PM now - and another 4.5 hours to kill and I am thinking about all these guys who made a rather a long and tiring day a little more tolerable by simply talking. Nothing more is needed.   

The Girl with a smile and a Turkey shooter

The Q train runs from the 96th Avenue till the Coney Island. I was waiting for it in the 34th Street - Herald Square station. Four lines were suppose to be running in those tracks and with the weekend schedule and the track maintenance announcements being hazy enough to say whether a train will come in the track I am waiting for, I was watching all the four tracks for the train. There was a guy with a single drum and a bucket asking for change, playing the drum with some indistinguishable music.

 I was waiting to go to Coney Island. I've never been there before - though long back, we've been to some of the other beautiful beaches in New York and Long Island. The day being forecasted to be hot with lots of sunshine, thought it best to go to there. Hence the wait on the tracks.

It took a while - missing a couple of trains meanwhile - for me to realize that I am standing in the Uptown tracks and I have to be in the Brooklyn tracks. The drums guy was looking at me, standing there all the time listening and leaving without so much as a quarter to him.

The Q train, when it arrived, was fully packed. And one look inside, you can tell everyone was going to Coney Island. So, I took a stand in a corner, opened my Kindle to continue with A.Muthulingam. Thats when I noticed that girl.

She must've been barely 18 or 19. She was in a uniform - though I couldn't figure whether it was a store uniform or something else. She had a skateboard and was wearing a shoe which matched exactly the color and design of the skateboard she was carrying. I started thinking which one she would've bought first - the skateboard or the shoe. She had a red Yankee hat on - which looked old and the seams were coming off with long braids of hair. The hat was the only sign that she must not be making enough money to spend on clothes.

She must've felt that I am looking at her. She gave a look and threw me a smile and went back to whatever she was doing. Thats when I noticed that she had bluetooth earphones and must be listening to music. So I was back to my book. It was my turn to feel that she is looking at me. I saw her and another smile and she went back to her music.

I checked my hair and dress to see if there is anything that makes me a little ridiculous to look at. I also thought she may not be smiling at me but be smiling at whatever it is she is hearing. It was then a burly white man came and sat next to her. He must've been squeezing her in that corner seat. She got up quickly with a smile and a exhaustive nod at the insolence of people. And got down at Prospect park.

I was trying to re-construct what her life must've been like when Coney island came into view.

The Turkey Shooter

Coney Island reminded very much of the days we used to go to Santa Monica Pier. Felt very nostalgic to be standing in the boardwalk watching those big rides and all. The beach was looking beautiful with the Atlantic looking a little furious. Waves were breaking in the breakwater structures creating ponds for swimming.

The day being hot - the place was crowded. The iconic Nathan's was crowded with queues running 15-20 deep in every counter. However, since Lunch was the only big activity I planned that day, I had no problem standing there. The food was tasting very normal anyway.

The Steeplechase pier was looking very attractive and so I went there to may be sit around a little and pass some time. As always, there were a bunch of guys with fishing rods, waiting for fishes. I asked one whether he has got anything - and had one fish to show for half a day in the pier.

It was here the Turkey shooter was standing and giving a lecture to 3-4 people standing there listening to his yarns. I joined the group and he was basically talking about the way he came across a bunch of Turkeys when went for the deer hunting. Then he was basically faced with the existential dilemma - whether to shoot the turkeys or to wait for the deer. Whether he shot anything in his life or not, he was explaining why he let the turkeys go and decide to wait for the deer.

I don't remember how but he some how moved to lobster fishing in Maine. He was talking about the different types of Lobsters and how the spiny Lobster with butter tastes better than anything. I told him about the Blue Lobster masala at the Moonrakers in Chennai. He couldn't believe that someone will eat Lobster with curry - told him I couldn't also believe that someone will eat boiled Lobster with butter. We agreed to disagree.

After a few hours of walking around the pier, came back to the station to wait for the Uptown Q train.

A Doll's House

I was reading a book of essays by A.Muthulingam and that had an interview with the Canadian dramatist - Dean Gilmour - who has staged many of Chekhov's dramas. There was discussion of his production of Chekhov's 'In the Ravine' but what I was thinking of during the reading was Henrik Ibsen and 'A Doll's House'.


I do not remember how I came across Ibsen. I must've made the leap from Wilde into Chekhov and from him to Ibsen. But what I remember vividly is being stunned by the end of the third act of 'A Doll's House' , when Nora decides to leave.

'A Doll's House' is a simple tale. Nora - the heroine of the play - gets into a financial difficulty without the knowledge of her Husband, Helmer. He gets mad when he comes to know about it and this triggers a fight between them. Though the situation resolves itself, Nora realizes her position in the house and leaves Helmer and the children - removes her wedding ring and literally shuts the door on him. The story ends.

What Ibsen was trying to do was to show the position of women in the 19th century European societies and it was considered too radical at that time - the wife leaving the husband and children. It also triggered a lot of discussion around the place of woman in the society and household.

To me, reading the drama was a revelation. It put in words what I was thinking for long and Nora emerges as the most unlikely heroine of her times. The 21st century Indian woman is being asked to make the same choices and being held in the same position as the 19th century European women - which I think makes it mandatory for this drama to be part of the curriculum for years to come.

"It's true Torvald. When I lived at home with Papa, he used to tell me his opinion about everything, and so I had the same opinion. If I thought differently, I had to hide it from him, or he wouldn't have liked it. He called me his little doll, and he used to play with me just as I played with my dolls. Then I came to live in your house -
 I mean when I passed out of Papa's hands into yours. You arranged everything to suit your own tastes, and so I came to have the same tastes as yours.. or I pretended to. I'm not quite sure which.. perhaps it was a bit of both -- sometimes one and sometimes the other. Now that I come to look at it, I've lived here like a pauper -- simply from hand to mouth. I've lived by performing tricks for you, Torvald. That was how you wanted it. You and Papa have committed a grievous sin against me: it's your fault that I've made nothing of my life."

That is the crux of Nora's argument and it fits like a glove to the Indian women. We keep them in their place - not by tradition or religion - but by tightly controlling the access to the money. Working women in today's India are looked suspiciously since the financial independence has given them the access to life like never before - so the cultural chains are brought in more and more these days.

Now, without professing an opinion on the subject, it is this relevance of the subject - across lands and cultures - that makes up for great literature. And it would be explosive in the Indian context - if people understand the work in its exact nature and apply it to them. When Nora says that women sacrifice their honor for the men they are with, it becomes an Indian play immediately.

However, we know that Indian education does not make you learn anything. I was re-reading the drama again for this and was searching to see if this is already in course material in India. It is - at least in the MA English at University of Madras and came across this 'Critical analysis' - by an assistant professor at MCC, Chennai, no less. The complete soulless reading of the drama is as expected and the complete misreading of what it means cannot be said more clearly.

Coming back to Nora, I remember watching a short film a while back on a modern take on Nora in the context of today's Western woman - who, while achieving some success in being financially independent is still being saddled by the familial responsibilities with the men taking the easy way out. Thus the context of the discussion is getting updated.

“HELMER: But this is disgraceful. Is this the way you neglect your most sacred duties?
NORA: What do you consider is my most sacred duty?
HELMER: Do I have to tell you that? Isn't it your duty to your husband and children?
NORA: I have another duty, just as sacred.
HELMER: You can't have. What duty do you mean?
NORA: My duty to myself.” 

This becomes a problem in the Indian context - where any discussion on a subject is only possible in a very small level - since the way we bring up the girl kids is no different from the years before - with marriage as the end goal and that the conversation need to be started by the women in a larger context - both does not seem to be possible at all for now.

The other play 'Hedda Gabler' - where Hedda manipulates her ex-lover into suicide for her own ends - needs its own analysis as well. But to me, Ibsen remains the most influential dramatist of that generation.  

July Fourth

It was the Independence day to the United states of America and what it means is a day to get out and into the quintessential city - New York.

The Crowd in a panorama

New York always fascinates me. I've traveled across the States and have lived in a few of its greatest cities. Nothing enchants like New York does. May be, its the location, the cultural scene, the people or all of the above. But I find the city irresistible almost every time I am here.

The Mounties

So it was to see the crowds, the celebrations and what-not that I decided to visit the city. After that patriotic exercise of shopping for a while in the greatest consumer capital of the world and in the Largest store in the world (that's what the banner in the front said!), took a little rest to go the point of the festivities.

By that time, Times square was all aflutter with the news of the protest at the Statue of Liberty park -  where a lady climbed the pedestal to protest the ICE and the immigration policies. So I was expecting some tighter security all across.

And so looking for a way to the FDR drive, the first thing that I see is the warning that no back packs are allowed and I've had one with 4 books, some food and water bottles. That pretty much was a dampener as I was expecting to return back if not allowed to enter.

As I walk down the 34th street, I can see the crowd swelling - a lot of tourists and New Yorkers too. It was only about 6.30 pm. And not just the crowd, NYPD was everywhere and along with the traffic police and the mounties, it looked like there are more officers than the crowd.

There was a security check - one block before FDR drive and this is where I was expecting to be sent back. But the lady officer was nice and she checked and allowed. The viewing gallery is the raised FDR drive which was blocked entirely and doubles as the viewing gallery as well. There was tremendous amount of people, with music playing and food and water all around. I was sitting in the median with a near perfect view to the East river. But the barges were missing and nowhere to be seen.

Night Falls

The Barge

I was sitting next to this guy with a tripod with Camera and a selfie stick with a cell phone as well. He was wearing a star and stripes bandana and seem to be flustered that there are no barges. Started complaining that Macy's were cowards as they seem to have catering to the Brooklyn hipsters (his term, not mine) and moved the barges down the river. He seem to have watched the Liberty protest in TV and was saying some things about people flooding in the borders and Macy's giving them jobs and now the barges are moved to Brooklyn and he doesn't have a view of the fireworks etc. I was wondering whether he realized that I am a brown-skinned guy fitting his description of the immigrant or that rant itself was directed at me. However, he seemed like a nice guy and not to have realized that I can be that immigrant.

However, the barges came into sight after a while and were positioned just across the river from us. We could see at least three of the barges with Macy's logo on it and our bandana guy was calling everyone in the world that he got the perfect position in the world to watch the fireworks.

It was still 2 more hours to start and everyone seem to be having a good time. I picked up the book I got that day ('The Scarlet Pimpernel') and started with the reading. There were multiple renderings of 'God bless America' going on around and chanting of waves of 'U S A' filled the air.

The Fireworks itself - when it started - immediately became a nostalgic affair. I started thinking of the school holidays when we use to go to the Sivakasi Bhadrakaliamman temple grounds - during the 'Aaram thiruvizha' (literally, the sixth day of the festival) - to watch the fireworks display. All the major fireworks in Sivakasi will be there led by Anil, Kaka families and it used to be a great fun to wait and see that. Of course, the innocence of those days is lost but the memories linger a little still.

The fireworks itself lasted about 30 minutes and the synchronization from the barges was absolutely fascinating to see. They were exactly in sync and the red, blue and white theme was being done well. The smoke and the familiar smell of sulphur was in the air almost immediately but it was fascinating nevertheless.

After a late night walk in the city - people were still partying in the streets and there was a traffic Jam on the 34th street at that time - caught a train and was back in no time.

Longbourn

Longbourn by Jo Baker

I think of the enthusiasm with which I took up this book and the way I finished reading the same. I have to admit that there is none of that enthusiasm left. But that is not because the book is bad or anything, just that the expectations were wrong.

Pride and Prejudice - remains very close to heart, even after multiple readings of the same , watching it multiple times in multiple versions of art - and that is the primary reason I picked up this novel. The expectation that somehow there will be an additional insight into the household of Longbourn and the lead characters of the novel. To tell the truth, there is none.

Half way through I realized that I should shed some of those expectations and should read it as a separate work of fiction and that actually helped. It worked much better as a stand-alone novel than as any kind of accompaniment to Pride and Prejudice.

The novel tells the story of Sarah, the maid to Elizabeth Bennet and part of the kitchen staff at Longbourn. Her love story with James, the stable lad, forms the crux of the story with some additional characters and their trials in life comes forth - especially Mrs. Hill.

None of the characters from Pride and Prejudice make any sort of meaningful appearance here except Wickham, who brings his villainy to the kitchen as well. This results in the separation of the lovers and after much trials, the story ends in a happy note.

The novel is thought provoking in following the lives of the servants - who seem to be more indentured than voluntarily taking up the work - and seem to be making so little to go with in life. There is no way forward, though they may be a little literate - there is not much going for them. The class system in England is shown for what it was, a crude way to keep people down which took another 100 years to undo.

Sarah, for a girl living that age, seems to be thinking very modernly and that does not surprise me. I believe women tend to think better than men and in also trying to get better in life while men tend to accept life for what it is. Some of her thoughts really border on revolutionary terms - but I think it is possible. Her thoughts about carrying the chamber-pots or menstruation or the inequality between the girls in the household and kitchen - are all possible for anyone who can look around and think. If Lizzie is the quintessential Feminist of the original, Sarah is the proto-revolutionary here.

Because I liked this picture

The story is primarily the love between Sarah and James. James runs away in the middle of the story and it becomes a story of Sarah trying to decide what to do with her love - to let go or hold on to it in the hope that it will come back. The all too-familiar conundrum of love stories and finally She takes things in her own hands and make her life for herself.

"Work was not a cure: it never had been. It simply grew a skin on despair and crusted over it"

The writing style, unlike Jane Austen's, is very different and has less conversations and more in the way of flow of the consciousness. This becomes tedious at times and if not for the excellent background with details on life as it was lived then, it would've been boring as well. And when Mrs.Hill thinks the above - in the context of Sarah trying to immerse herself in work to get over James - the entire flow of that thought becomes prose of excellent worth. There are moments like this across the book.

"Perhaps it was not an easy thing, to be entirely so happy. "

Perhaps it was. Elizabeth , as Mrs. Darcy, gives over to thoughts like this - but what was indigestible was the girl we knew as someone romping over mud and rain being transformed into someone valuing external appearances so much after marriage. That didn't gel well with the original. Darcy appears once and Bingley never.

Overall, if you read the book as an independent novel, it is a good read. Having any other intention will probably ruin the experience.

The Day that was

There is this Ecuadoran woman who drives me to the station here every day. Very chatty person. We were talking about the countries and she was telling about Ecuador. The crime rates, the complete lack of basic amenities and a lot. She had a sense of fatality about it. It was what it was and so she has to leave the country and have to start fresh in America. It was a little sad hearing her speak all that about her country. She was advising me that if ever I have to go , I've to put all money, jewelry in the safe and go. Told her that I've only one reason to go to Ecuador - Galapagos - and I've decided to go via Costa Rica whenever I do that.

Riverside Church

It is sometimes strange how the destinations you want to go work out by itself. When I started today, I'd no idea where I will end up. I started looking for some interesting place to go and saw that picture of the beautiful church in uptown NY and decided to go.
It was a hot day and took the metro to 116 street. The metro station, which is also the stop for the Columbia university, had a few of the kids with their parents, taking pictures under the Columbia university sign. I wasn't sure whether they are students or just interested. However, it was interesting to see that.

The roads were empty - unlike NYC - and took the walk to the Riverside Church. It was looking beautiful and very Gothic to look at. However, it was closed. So that was a disappointment. I wanted to see what else was nearby.

Ulysses Grant has a way to coming into my plans every now and then and he did so again this time. Just across the church, a little into the path that go into the Riverside park, lies this domed building, unassuming and except for a bunch of people training nearby for the NYC Triathlon tomorrow, the place was deserted.

It was the Ulysses Grant memorial building, the last resting place of Ulysses Grant and his love of his life, Julia Grant. Its strange, how you end up in places you least expected. But it was open only on alternate hours today - for whatever reason. However, it was one of the places I've always wanted to visit and so, I waited outside for it to open.

There is no reason to visit this place, unless you respect the man. It is a beautiful domed structure which houses the tombs, that's it. There is a visitor center outside and that has a book shop and a few other details about Grant's life. He lies there with his wife on the side and busts of five of his lieutenants - Sherman, Sheridian, Thomas, Ord and McPherson - looking at him around the tomb. The flags of the regiments from the home states of Grant  are kept there and it was a very solemn moment to see something from the Civil war.

To me, the visit was to complete the absolute adoration I've for this man, who not only won the Civil war, but also helped in the reconstruction of the country. A rustic person - whom Lincoln esteemed and who in victory showed how magnanimous he can be.

It was a visit that will linger for a while.