In the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012), there is a consuming statement that sums up a lot of our love lives: “We accept the love we think we deserve.” In a broader context, this is pretty much true for everyone on this planet irrespective of species. Our sense of (mis)understanding one another is rooted in our scale of judgement. In a romantic relationship, this notion becomes more evident. What we love in a person may not be the whole picture, a piece here and a shard there. And it’s quite possible that the amount of time and resources you put into the other person may not be duly requited. That’s simply a bet you’ve got to take in this game.
If there is one wish that people should manifest for each other, then that has to be quality orgasms. Yes, there I said it. Instead of simply saying vague stuff like “hope you have a lovely year ahead” or “enjoy a beautiful weekend” etc. which doesn’t even mean anything, how about being specific with “here’s wishing you orgasms that will fix you the way Coldplay never did”? Or something invasive like “may you have climaxes that even the finest of movies fail to reach”. Bad jokes apart, I genuinely believe that some orgasms could have the power to transform us into what we always wanted to be. But to reach that stage, we’ll have to work hard on our desires. After all, we accept the orgasms we think we deserve.
Last year, a friend of mine expressed interest in knowing more about Mahabharata and asked me which book should he pick up. Although an obvious answer would have been Amar Chitra Katha, I said he will have to do some research on his own. My theory is that a great story will find you somehow. Anyway, a few weeks later, he got back to me saying that he started reading Gurcharan Das’s The Difficulty of Being Good. I’d never heard of this book before so didn’t think too much about it. This year, in February, I visited my grandaunt-in-law (I’ve mentioned her earlier on this blog; she is 95, a solid personality). She handed me a book. Guess what? The Difficulty of Being Good. I recently completed it and it’s a splendid commentary on the characters of Mahabharata, and spares no one from Krishna to Bheeshma. Like I said, a great story will find you somehow.
After reading the aforementioned book, I’ve been thinking about the many factors that drive a person to do what she does. Why does she wake up? Why does he do what he does? What makes us sleep sound? Are we just passing through like a breeze that isn’t sure yet whether it belongs to the land or the sea? Basically, all the questions that we take for granted, assuming that somebody else has the answers for us. If everything happens for a reason, who exactly is responsible for everything? In Gita, Krishna makes it very clear that He is the master designer of our fates. But I still feel that there is more to it than meets the eye.
What has to happen will happen. What is not supposed to happen won’t happen. Those who wish to attribute the verses of their destiny to the Almighty, it’s an individual choice. But here’s the stunner: no matter what you believe, you can’t change the course of time. Your achievements and your accidents and your heartaches and your elations are all collectively the minutest of specks on the canvas of time. In a lot of ways, you are absolutely nothing. But then, in a lot of ways, you are a little more than something.
It’s cute how the online protectors of Hinduism and the offline proponents of Hindutva couldn’t get rid of a term (Hindu) that isn’t even rooted in our land. If they truly cared about our civilizational bouts and cultural erosion, they would have made an effort to bring back the D-word into the mainstream. In all of Mahabharata, you don’t get to read the word ‘Hindu’ even once. Why? Because it’s of Farsi origin. On the other hand, almost every second paragraph refers to Dharma. The whole epic invokes Dharma: to do the right thing regardless of your circumstances. Now, here’s another clincher: Dharma originally means to sustain. Water has to be wet, the sun has to burn, a lion has to kill an innocent-looking gazelle, and worse. Everybody in this scenario is following their Dharma because that’s the only way to sustain. How long will the Hindus sustain without even knowing the basic tenets of their ancestors?
Which brings us to another fascinating question—this blog takes more pride in posing questions than positing answers—can Dharma be taught? My basic understanding is, yes. But knowing the world we live in, I feel that it won't be an easy task. To teach children the difference between good and evil, the necessity of choice, the innate value of being kind, the call of duty in helping others, to not cause commotion and distress, to be decent even when others aren’t watching, etc. might result in a prosperous life but won’t warrant a peaceful existence. Chances are adulthood will pose challenges that might be completely out of the syllabus. During such moments, Dharma will pass through a litmus test.
When Yuddhistra fools around with his (lack of) gambling skills and ends up squandering his kingdom, brothers, wife, their freedom, and so on, you feel pity for such a catastrophe to unfold on such a righteous soul. But that’s not it. He simply succumbed to the set ploy by the devious Shakuni (there is a temple dedicated to him in Kerala) and he kept sinking like a senile left testicle. When Draupadi is dragged by her long hair (while she is on her period) into the assembly by Dushashana, she questions him (and other elders too). After a lengthy dialogue with Draupadi, Yuddhistra has a Walter White moment where he ultimately accepts that he agreed to play dice because that’s his vice. In simpler words, he was an addict who enjoyed the turmoil of gambling.
If you think my Walter White hypothesis is shocking, let me raise the cup with another theory. I am sure you must have watched Fight Club (1999). The first rule of Fight Club is you watch that masterpiece at least 5 times while recommending it to 10 other people. Anyway, I think Tyler Durden is Krishna. He is the one manipulating the Narrator—the protagonist is nameless, like you and me: he could be any one of us—exactly how Arjuna was charioteered in the Mahabharata. It’s not just about violence and broken teeth and swollen scrotums. It’s about finding the purpose of your existence. And my two cents are on Krishna messing with the Narrator’s head to bring down the rotten city, so that a new beginning can take place.
My dad worked for a restaurateur in Chembur for 42 years. About half of those decades were spent as a waiter. When he retired, he got less than ₹3 lacs as gratuity and a monthly pension of ₹1000. Yes, it’s pathetic but that’s how things are in the unorganized sector. The previous generations stuck around with one company, one boss, for aeons because they overestimated the importance of security. Millennials follow a different model; they swing from one organization to another faster than Tarzan’s chimps. Gen Z are apparently more liquid. Gig economy, coupled with the WFH jazzmatazz of the pandemic, has left a visible dent in the relationship between the employer and the employee. I don’t think we’ll ever see another Walter Orthmann. He is a 100-year-old Brazilian who worked at the same company for 84 years. I wonder how many sick leave he took in total.
My parents, like any typical desi lot, want me to have a grandchild. As is the case, my amma has been more vocal whereas my dad has been understated in his advice so far. However, this time around, he made an interesting pitch.
He: “Why aren’t you keen on becoming a father?”
Me: “I am not interested in it.”
He: “But why?”
Me: “I don’t think I’ll be able to take care of a child.”
He: “Rubbish.”
Me: “....”
He: “We all learn with time. I just want you to have someone who takes care of you in old age the way you take care of me.”
Me: “I will be fine. I don’t want anyone to look after me.”
There are very few secrets better protected than Aaradhya Bachchan’s forehead. Let me share one with you today just because I care about you: whoever you think you are, you are mistaken. We might be made out of stars but we aren’t cast out of stone. We are always changing with every passing situation, fighting every big and small obstacle, figuring out the world around me, with many bruises and calluses to spare. Most of us are not peaceful as we reflect on our environment. Our mind is thunderous and our thoughts are coarse. Our eyes are sleepless and our heart is cold. There is no real escape except the one route that leads us to who we are at our core.
Humans create languages out of thin air. Take reels on Instagram, for instance. When you send a funny/cute/informative reel to someone, you are basically telling that person that you thought of them. You laughed at a dog video and you want somebody else to laugh too. Whether you receive any reaction on the reel sent is secondary. In fact, nobody cares whether the reel was even watched fully. What matters is that it was seen and that is enough. By all measures, IG reels are the only spam worth going through. It’s fair to conclude that IG reel has become a silent love language.
Damn. Idk how you do it and would really love to know it, but you catch the reader's attention and make it last long until the blog post is over. It started from Orgasms, Mahabharatha, being a father, organization's environmental changes and all of it went down to conclude IG REELS ARE A SILENT LOVE LANGUAGE LIKE WHAT!?? How did you even do it without making it feel like the topic was changing?
Beautifully written. Almost poetic! More posts on your views about epics like Mahabharat and ramayana please. Love your takes