The T!

I'd always wanted to be born a boy.. At least,being born a girl in India,that too Kerala,that too in a pretty much orthodox family,i'd more than once wished if only i were born a boy! (I used 'born a boy' only as a gag to those pricks who would come up with suggestions on Gender Reassignment Surgery!)..

Every time i found a boy having a nightout with friends,or a trip to Goa/Pondi or a bike tour, i whined on why the hell was i born a girl,.why couldn't my parents be one of those supporting a female infanticide(of course,that was a bit exaggerated!)..Another of those endless things i missed was a booze party,.of course not to booze myself,but to see how this liquid helped people overcome all the inhibitions,to see how people transform into someone totally strange,to some kind of a blissful existence at least for a lull!,.I'd even asked my dad once to find me a groom who would drink,and believe me when i say that he gave me one such sarcasm filled guffaw which i would never forget in a lifetime!! :D

But now,I'm highly grateful to God that i was born a girl in it's fullest sense and not as someone who can be termed neither or either!!Everytime i walk around a busy street in Blore,i get to meet the heavily built,yet deceivingly beautiful,people,who,even though they wish to be called so,are not women..People,who have not a definite gender,or a clear identity or existence.. People who are looked upon with utter aversion by every goddamn person.. People who wouldn't be hired,neither can they be self employed,thus being rendered helpless and left to choose among begging/looting for their existence.. People who wouldn't be admitted in any school or college,thus contributing themselves to the illiterate shits of India who hamper the growth of India into a super-power..

I'm highly grateful to God that i was born with a proper XX,due to which my parents are not a tad ashamed to bring me up and not abandon me in my infancy!I'm grateful to God that i have a home,and a loving family,and a proper education which didn't eventually leave me jobless,and not fend for myself when i didn't know the chromosomal difference between a male and a female!

Without an identity,they have no say in running the democratic process.. Without a vote,none of the political mavericks are interested in their issues,not that they are interested in ours..

Till date i'm not sure if LGB is a reality or fantasy like in dostana as i've never once come across one of the kind.. But not in the case of 'T'.. If i were to say,transgenders definitely need a better consideration than making them part of the LGBT resolution... Their problem is not one of dignity for their 'needs',but of existence,identity and survival..And an amendment in an article wouldn't help them be a part of our nation,.the attitude of the society of which you and i are a part,should change.. And it's high time we stop reservations based on cast,creed or religion,but devote in giving a helping hand to those who are in real need of it!

A nation remains handicapped so long as it ignores a,howsoever diminutive,part of it's citizens.. And so long as it ignores their needs,it's growth will only be a fallacy..

Khuda Hafiz
~Gayathri~

A Chronicle of Fantasies..

Fantasy stories have never been my choice.. Not when i was a kid,not when i grew up.. It was never tom n jerry or scoobee doo which entertained me when i was a kid,but the *dishyum dishyum* movies which i watched with my grandpa.. It was not the handsome-prince-crosses-seven-seas-for-the-princess stories that mom narrated,but mahabharata and ramayana.. Hence i was honed,to turn my back to fantasies..

When i was in school,there was a girl who told me of a lady who was turning tides throughout the globe,.and that was J.K.Rowling..She wrote one book,then the other,then another,..it went on until she became one of the biggest aristocrats in the world..What i could never understand was how/why people enjoyed such fantasies which didn't quite appeal to their sanity.. The 2hrs i spent in Hyd IMAX watching HP5,the one n only HP which i had to watch,was a torture to me,for,i rotated my head 360 degrees only to find everyone gaping with awe at the movie,the script,and the 3D!!

J.R.R.Tolkien was in no way inferior to Rowling,for he made every single guy speak in laudative tone about his Lord of the Rings.. If HP suffered from the wrath of muffling of the sumptousness when compared to the book,LOTR was bloody brilliant.. The 12hours that guys stayed hooked to the pc just to watch all the 3 movies at a stretch was inconcievable.

Next in the list was Stephnie Mayer,who presented every girl with the dreams of a vampire-sweetheart who could rescue them at the need of the hour.. I hoped she would stop with Twilight,but again,she was in no way different..

I'm unsure if i had missed any other mavericks who aced the field of imagination..But what stayed and still stays beyond my realm of understanding is,how people manage to enjoy the books/movies which they were sure to be challenging their lucidity.. Not that movies like transformers were believable.. But somehow,it was kind of watchable stuffs unlike the handsome-vampire-falls-in-love kinda storyline..

There would still be authors like Rowling who would keep questioning the acumen of a layman.. And there would still be people like me resisting them.. But an author becomes a prodigy,when he challenges the established norms of human imagination and transcends into weird realms.. Hats off to all those guys for their imaginative and narrative abilities!!!

Khuda Hafiz
~Gayathri~

The Black Book

It has been about 2 months since i started reading this book.. Presented by a friend on my birthday,the reading crawls at snail's pace.. Coincidentally though,reading as well as blogging have almost come to a standstill ever since i turned 22.. Not that I'd ever been a good writer..but at least i was good at jotting down random thoughts..which is what i struggle at,now..


Anyhow,back to Black..


After My Name is Red,I'd this huge reverence to Orhan Pamuk,which was why my dear friend took all the pains of hunting down this book which was then not to be found anywhere in Bangalore.If My Name Is Red was one of those books which i enjoyed reading,which i hated putting down, The Black Book thoroughly decieved me all time.. Although the book was famous/infamous for its complexity,I'd a subdued impression of the extent of intricacy any book could hold..But it was far beyond my expectations..


The story is all about the ongoing search of Galip for his wife Ruya,who on a fine day,has disappeared,for her ex-husband or for Celal,a popular newspaper journalist who also happens to be her step-brother..Although Ruya leaves an obscure parting note,which lets out no reason on her adieu,Galip sets on an investigation primarily out of his uncontrollable and scarcely returned love,and partly due to his unabated doubt on the fidelity of his wife,rather any house-wife,.which glints in some areas like,

"In my view,an intelligent husband makes a point of forgetting every man who sends his regards to his wife. Because-well,just in case. Especially if the woman in question is a housewife. If you rule out relatives and shopkeepers,that luckless creature we call the housewife is unlikely afterall to meet any man other than her own tedious husband. So if a gentleman does take the trouble to send her his regards,it will make her think,and she has plenty of time for that too.."
 

As his investigation progresses,he finds that Celal has disappeared too.. And he dares to be the imposture of Celal,occupying his home,wearing his clothes,answering his phone calls,even writing his columns,only to transform almost completely into an ever envied identity..


There were occasions when the literary ace of Pamuk left me awestruck as in,


"When catastrophe strikes,there can be no happier way of facing death. So let me cry out in anguish to a distant love:My darling,my beauty,my long suffering sweet,the disaster is fast approaching;so come to me,come to me now;wherever you happen to be at this moment- a smoke filled office,a messy blue bedroom,an onion scented kitchen in a house steaming with laundry-Know that the time has come,so come to me;let us draw the curtains against the disaster pressing upon us;as darkness encroaches,let us lock ourselves in a last embrace and silently await the hour of our death."


I'm just half way through.. Although it's not an easy read,it gives a pleasure beyond words to decipher the intricacies hidden in the beautifully weaved words of Pamuk. Salutes to the literary genius!!


Khuda Hafiz
~Gayathri~