Monday, January 25, 2010

Racists

Kunal Basu, Kolkatta born English author, picks up a controversial topic and tries to spin an intriguing story around it. Though this book falls under the genre of science fiction, it would be apt to call it anthropological fiction. The main plot of the story is an experiment to determine which among the two human races; White or Black is the superior race. It’s difficult to establish who the protagonist of the story is, as each one tends to lead the plot in his/her own way. First, there are the two scientists; an English and the other French, who are the brain behind the racial experiment. Second, a set of children; one black and the other white, who are the subjects, a mute nurse, in charge of bringing up the kids. Then there is the scientist’s assistance, with a mind of his own. Last but not the least, a remote, desolate island which forms the backdrop of the experiment.

The story takes place in the latter half of the 19th century, when transatlantic slave trade is at its peak. The English scientist, Bates, a craniologist, believes that the white race is superior to the black and it’s the destiny of the black people to serve their white masters. He proves it by the measurements of scores of human skulls, of different races, procured from all around the world. His assistant, Quartley, is in charge of up-keep of these skulls. The French scientist, Belavoix, doesn’t agree to his English counterpart’s views and, based on his close study of the various civilizations of the world, advocates that the two races are better in their own right and that the superiority is not unidirectional. They challenge each other to an experiment, by isolating two babies, a black boy and a white girl, on a beautiful but remote island, away from human contact and ethics. They are to be brought up by a speechless nurse, who would just feed and protect them. She is instructed not to act as a mother to these children and other strict dos and don’ts. She is not to teach the kids anything and they are to grow up on their own, with the island being their school. All necessary supplies to the island are provided by the benevolence of the English society, which wants a proof of the white supremacy. The experiment is to last for 12 years and the scientists are too come to the island every six months to observe and study their subjects. Bates believes that the white girl, sooner than later, by her actions prove that she is the master to the black boy. The French on the other hand predicts that the children will become savages and one of them will murder the other.

The first half of the story grips the reader with a vivid description of the island; a small land mass in the African coast, isolated from the world, the dense forest which covers the island under a thick foliage and protects its inmates from prying eyes and how the island is only connected to the world by a ship, whose captain is a backer of the English scientist. The author beautifully sketches the personalities of the characters, with Bates being the irate and finicky one and the French being the docile and compromising type, though quiet often he picks on the nerves of his opposite number. There is constant squabbling going on between the scientists throughout. The narrative also gives details into how the children are growing, their eerie habits, their fights and how with each passing year the children are becoming more savage. Often the author is seen tilting the balance of power between the kids and this keeps the reader interested. There is mystery woven around the nurse and the assistant and it keeps the plot alive. The author indulges the reader with a hint of ‘something’ between Bates and the nurse and then switches the focus to the affection between his assistant and the nurse. Then towards the end it is revealed that the nurse is in fact not mute. The story then picks up pace where the assistant convinces Bates to return to the island, one last time and concurrently connives with the ship’s captain to help him and the nurse escape from the island. Though the author picks up a contemporary topic, it is nearly impossible for him to provide the answer to the basic premise of the story. The answer to; which is the superior race; white or black? The question might be quiet relevant today with Mr Obama becoming the first man of the white world, but that’s where the book falls short of the expectations. The reader picks up the book thinking that it’s the final frontier but gets nothing more than an average fiction story. The book starts with a big promise, then hooks you on to the lives of the characters as if trying to move you away from the big question and finally ends with a compromise of sorts. But then perhaps it’s not correct to ask such a question in the first place; at least not politically. Pick this up if you are someone who enjoys the journey and not the destination.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Back r us

And we are back with a new status. From single to committed to married. It feels a little odd at times when the wedlock pricks and ring gets smeared with atta and dust.The moment I fidget with one of the two comes the stinging stare or shrieks reminding me the eleventh commandment " Thou shall not fidget with the symbols of thy slavery( married life):", though I did find his wedding ring from the bathroom twice in this brief period of 10 days.
Partnership in blogging is quite different from partnership in life. Well the editor is as crtical about adrak ki chai and channa masala as he is about my writing. I think I am in love with this city. Mumbai has it's own charm. What fascinates me is the drive and energy in the people around which is quite different from the lethargy and apathy at my place. We are reading Breathless in Bombay by Murzban Shroff , it's a must read for the Bombay lovers. Stay with us for the upcoming reads on journey to and after the altar. Till then comment on the wedding and engagement pics.

P.S - The editor chose pics in which he looks the best this does not mean these are my best ones ;)

Wedding Pics




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Engagement Pics




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Thursday, December 31, 2009

Happy new year



Dear diary,
Last New year when I was with the gang at Satyanilayam, I never imagined to be home the next new year anticipating my wedding day. Life changes so does people. I remember getting annoyed at friends who changed after wedding. What I really found hard to digest was when they said they were busy. I hated friends who relied on their hubbies and in-laws to decide their life. I never saw that happening to my friends who are working. Somewhere they seemed liberated enough to decide their own life. Now don’t ask me if liberated means to decide one’s own life. What I meant is at least my friends back at the institute agree with it when I say that the sky does not fall when married. Maybe they had learned to juggle these roles of wife and scholar (they got no option too)
But I have lost many good friends when they decided to marry. And this applies to girls alone. I have many friends who are men who claim they don’t meet their guy friends anymore. I think they mean no hang outs and booze parties, but I think they are better than girls when it comes to going for reunions and gang parties. But some say priorities does change.
I have friends who are watching my moves at the moment. I know they are curious to know if my hubby will draw the line or will my in-laws monitor my call list. I suddenly feel the insurmountable pressure of these eyes on me. Nothing will pacify their pre judged minds, those who want to believe a woman has no life of her own after she marries. Nothing will make them agree that our dear editor is as clear as his posts and gives me breathing space. As my good friend Jils asks why am I desperate to prove a point wont living it out answer all the queries. I have made too tall claims says our editor, and I love him for his analysis. Then again when I support him occasionally people remind me “Look whose changing”.
In a year’s time my priorities have shifted from ‘Life at IIT to Life at IIT and Life with ‘Who’. What still remains common in both the years is me- My transition from spinsterhood to commitment. And I hope I can do full justice to my new role without throwing away people and qualities I acquired from my old role.
I got no clue if men have similar thoughts? Maybe our editor could help me.


Dear readers we owe a lot to you for your support and comments. We got 9 more days on this journey to the altar so you might not find frequent posts like before. Please bear with us. Wish you all a happy and prosperous new year.Hope you all have a blast.

Two cups of tea with Sisyphus



I hoped this conversation would not be long. Frankly, I was bored, rather tired. It was a depressing place to be. All around me, I saw people screaming, being tied up, tearing and breaking stuff. I was at the National Mental Health centre in place??????. I think mental health was more positive than mental hospital. At least it covered insanity. I was a psychology graduate and patients who were educated or in the realm of consciousness acknowledged this occasionally. Saying this used to flatter me, how naive I was then. He used to meet me occasionally. I was busy most of the time during the day, so he came during the evenings.

I felt obliged because he was a case of chronic depression. He rarely opened up to people so his mother felt hopeful when he spoke to me. But was I listening to all that he said? I don’t know. And he gifted me something cute on my birthday. His stories were always the same, lost his girl friend, who cleared JEE and left him with his unfulfilled dreams of not making it to IIT. He was stressed. Failure was not acceptable at his home. With a line of doctors and engineers in the family, all from AIIMS and IIT’s, failure was looked down upon. More stress made the journey to his dream land even distant and depression became suicidal.

I looked at him with the tea cup in my hand, I felt guilty stealing sips. I realised I was looking through him. I was introspecting myself, but was I not as lost as him? Do I look like a loser to an IIT aspirant? I feel so contended with my studies. I felt ashamed for letting my mind wander when I was supposed to listen to him empathetically. I wanted to help but felt lethargic. I tried visualising the temples of knowledge he longed to get into. Never did I realise I would write this incident from the same temple seven years down the line. He spoke to me for half an hour and left. I finished my tea and left promising to help him the next day.

I received a call from his mother half an hour later. He attempted suicide by slitting his veins, buying a blade from the nearby shopping centre. I felt numb, I could not figure out why he did it. I did not understand what about IIT compelled him to end his life because he could not make it there. Years later I drink many cups, in one of the same place he yearned for, listening and reading about many others who commit suicide, despite making it to IIT.

My animosity continues to grow to the self perpetuation of this system which is like the myth of Sisyphus. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Myth_of_Sisyphus)I am compelled to use the cliché – ‘The grass is always greener on the other side’, but believe me, I have been to the other side and it’s the same feeling there too. I have seen both the worlds, lived in them, worked in them and understood them; that the difference is not what we see but what we perceive. As for me, hopefully, another day, another time, with two cups of tea, I will relieve Sisyphus of his rock.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Marriage matters- Journey to the altar part 5




Year 2009 has been the toughest time of my life, so far. Maybe it’s because I am settling into a new life and also because my decisions may be dependent on many people. This is frustrating ; I thought I had the right to decide choices in my life and like everyone I justified it with my principles. Suddenly I don’t see it happening. This does not make it annoying enough. What makes it frustrating is the fact that I am constantly reminded that marriage is a compromise (contract is what they wanted to say). ‘A woman has to be submissive and obedient’ quoted many from bible and now a days I see more of these people around and seem to be stuck with them.

Fortunately I am marrying someone who understands my plight and the very fact I can put my views out here is the net result of that fortune. But, he being the strategic planner asks me to be patient and ignore things as long as people don’t interfere in my life.

As I watch the whole game helplessly, I see things go out of control. Everyone except me gets to decide how much gold and what kind of saree I should wear (though I can hardly drape the 5mtr cloth), when and where things should happen and how I should live my life. Only choice I made was the guy whom I should marry to (which I am thankful because many don’t have that option either).

Yes, I am talking of the 21st century. I am an overeducated dumbo who thought she conquered the world. Sadly, my degrees fail me in front of people who flash out the biggest degree “marriage certificate” which gives them the right to advice people (Hope I don’t catch the same fever after mine). “Men want things this way”, “be submissive, that’s our aim in life”, “learn to use the right make up”, “how about lingerie shopping?” the advices go on and on. “Ask him to get a saree above 15k, after all its a societal affair”, said some, “honeymoon in India, what the hell”, said others, “You should get it written on stamp paper that the kids will go to our church not theirs”, ”why can’t they marry here, why should we travel to their place”, “learn to take the control in your hand, girl”..... So you got it, before I can open my mouth, I am shot point blank, without a trial.

“Why do you bother”, asked Mr Who initially, but slowly he is facing similar realities. Now the process is a drag and the end is the only hope. Ridding oneself from the clutches of the concerned messiahs is a lucrative dream. I think of girls who take this silently. I can at least hide here in the name of research. There is nothing I can fight over anyways. “After all marriage is a sacrifice at the altar and we are scape goats all dressed up and adorned”, said another friend.

This is also the worst period in my research life. Research scholars are not well paid, and we are humans. Every 4 months we pay fees, so practically if you work hard to save, you can manage, without borrowing, to pay for your next fees and I am among those fortunate souls who doesn’t borrow but then unexpected expenses (like wedding) throws you off guard. It is not easy focussing on work too with hundred calls from relatives and friends, all of whom expect you to be equally excited. Now I am not a commercial that repeats with same intonations, so sometime some people feel hurt. “Hey we have been married and went through this stress”, says some (though most of them would be sitting home with kids). Thanks buddies for the support I say but I guess you were not doing a PhD at IIT, then. You had all the world’s time to shop and decide stuff rather crash land three days before wedding to save leaves. And mind it scholars are not meant to have a personal life. So those who venture for one has to pay a price. “You should have thought before joining, after all what good is a PhD for a woman”, said some irritating fool. I save a few plates at least by offending them :)

I apply for a fellowship but my paper gets stuck. I apply for a new ATM, my pin number does not reach the branch, I walk up and down the bank for days and I can’t get a five min job done. I try for an accommodation at a conference and I don’t make it. Anything I try doing boomerangs at the same speed. I need to top up, credit low on the guy’s mobile and because of rains there is no stock in Adayar. I post a letter it does not reach on time. I call someone he does not pick up for a week. Pen drive gets virus infected, Doctoral committee passed a repeat review meeting (which is like a court hearing) and my mess bill reflects excess amount which I can never ratify because the officer is never in place when I reach the concerned table. I am told after 3 years of study that I did a course that was unregistered in the institute.

In the midst of all this I am haunted by superstitions. People who visit the groom’s family should be in odd numbers. Wedding and engagement should happen in one year to be auspicious (though vacation period was suitable to groom and bride). Bride should not step out of home after engagement (we got two weeks break before wedding and I was hoping to save some days by going back to chennai).

I am advised to do yoga but I cannot fathom as to why are things turning a drag and aversive. I try believing that everyone goes through this but that’s not good enough for me.

“You guys are nuts, you decide what you want?”, said a guy and I stare back at my ‘self’ from five years ago – carefree, happy-go-lucky, feminist, on your face, creative, assertive, tom boyish, imaginative, in control and with the world under my feet. Yes, now I understand that marriage is a compromise, yes sir it is, not with others but with oneself.