Patriotism is the new religion

Don’t get me wrong based on the title. ( Only after reading the post are you allowed to throw stones at me and call me anti-national) . I am as patriotic as the next person. Which is to say that I dislike Pakistan during cricket matches, discuss politics fervently during election time and pay my taxes. I like my country and want to be here for the rest of my life, but that’s hardly patriotism- its more a matter of convenience.  But I am fundamentally apatriotic when it comes to it- I am not emotionally attached to the idea of countries and laying your life for them.

Sure, I agree it is a matter of convenience that blocks of land are governed by distinct bodies. And I am not naïve enough to think that a Micronesian tribal village is the same as an Italian village. But for people to kill people of neighbouring countries for the sake of land seems so beyond me, despite the fact that both are soldiers fighting for their own country.  We are all in our designated countries purely by chance. History could have dictated it any other way. Rajasthan and Gujarat could have been a part of Pakistan, South india could have been a different country along with Srilanka- the possibilities are endless. And we would have been loyal to those countries then. Therefore, it seems stupid to me to sacrifice your life to safeguard the idea or a concept or a group you are a part of , purely by chance.  Sounds familiar?

Religion, while not exactly the same,  has many similar features. You are part of a group your parents are a part of  probably, you believe in its ideals and visions and you are ready to kill someone who is opposed to this view. And that’s what I hate about religion and patriotism- That we are so brazen about killing someone and make them heroes for doing so.  Killing is generally unacceptable in regular society- you are a murderer , but in a different context , you are made a hero- Why? So what if the person killed is a Pakistani?  He is not evil, he has a family back home and he is as much a loving father and son as you probably are. Just because he made the mistake of being born in Pakistan ( which would have been your country had things been slightly different) you are OK with him being dead? But you are not OK with killing someone from Rajasthan, are you?

I am in no way trivializing those people who are sacrificing their lives so I can sit comfortably in my home writing this post. I am merely sad that they have to. I soo wish they had the luxury of sitting at home thinking of useless stuff. Sad that people have to put themselves at risk because two governing bodies cant figure out how to co-exist. That they still behave like tribal clans- killing and looting in order to survive. We are way past that stage now, aren’t we?  We are not putting soldiers between states in an attempt to protect our states from the neighbours ( Karnataka would do it, given a chance, though :D )  Why cant we have that kind of maturity amongst countries?

I am not saying that we all merge into one big blob and be ruled by some world ruler. We can still continue economic discussions and trade discussions and still try and do whats best for your country. But this needless killing can stop? No? 

PS: I understand fully well that at this point its impossible to stop military exercise. It would mean that the other country has to come to the same conclusion. This is a post in an ideal world. I am allowed to fantasise about that, arent I? 

The 100 days Project or The Art of Frauding

In which I explain how I am going to tackle the 100 days project.

I am a big fraud. Not in the alarming sense of " dont pay taxes" or "embezzle company funds" fraud. I dont have the intelligence or the stamina to carry out these activities. No- more in the mundane sense of  " Yes I am five  minutes away" when I haven't even started or " yes yes, its on track, dont worry we are managing it" when I have no clue of whats going on.  Then I go around scrambling to figure out whats going on in the project and scramble some more to ensure that its on track. This when there was no need for me to blabber in the first place.

But my foot in the mouth recently reached a higher level. I had a case of "Foot in the blog mouth". I dont know how else to describe it. Yesterday, as I was writing the post on embarking on the 100 days project, without my knowledge I typed "which will allow me to experiment with different styles of writing". When my brain realised what had been  typed it quickly formulated the disclaimer and stuck it alongside the original line. But I had typed something and  once the thought of "different styles of writing" crept up my mind it was impossible to repress it and say " I will churn out regular posts for 100 days".

There was  a slight problem though. I had no idea what it meant and how to go about doing it.

Few minutes after my post, I was wondering what different styles of writing I was capable of. Well, I thought to myself "  I can do movie reviews and book reviews, have never done those before". I was now left with the simple task of figuring out 98 other styles.  It then occured to me that I could write for different magazines- different genres of magazines which will ensure that I will be forced to write about topics which I normally dont. I can write columns for Femina, Architecture weekly, homes and interiors, gardening magazines, political magazines, nature& wildlife, food magazines, Psychology, lonely planet,  etc.  Not only will it force me to expand my horizons of writing , it will also keep my ranting to a minimum as I would pretend I am writing for a magazine.

Of course, none of this precludes fraud. I can clearly see myself writing whatever comes to mind and slotting it into some magazine section. And there is always the option of calling it the column submission for Outlook or Week. Have you seen the irrelevant articles they publish?

One of these days I will make a list of the magazines I definitely want to cover but until then I will post as they come, with a mention of which magazine it is intended for. I am not deluded enough to think that it is worthy of getting published in the magazine, it is merely my attempt at writing for the audience of these. Its just a way of keeping the 100 days project interesting for me with some semblance of a structure instead of random posts being thrown into the universe, all of which can loosely be assembled into one giant post.

As fascinating as this idea is, it comes directly in conflict with a thought I have been having about the blog recently. Unlike business or subject blogs which run purely on content  and the greatness of the writing, individuals' blogs need the personal touch. You cant follow some unknown person's blog unless you get some sense of how their lives are. Not every minute details of their lives, but a broad sketch of their life, against which context the readers can understand the blog contents better. Unless their content is so powerful and their writing is so beautiful that you would read them regardless.

 So, in the awareness that my writing isnt so fantastic that it will keep the reader hooked, I will make the magazine articles more personal than the ones you see in the actual magazine. I will somehow also try and keep it objective.

Thank you, my dear useless subconscious, for the last paragraph. Now I have to figure out how that needs to be done. Seriously, cant you check with me before just typing stuff?

Rational, with a pinch of salt

Human beings are wired to look for patterns. Your brain figuring out that those random spots is a leopard is the difference between you surviving by getting out of sight and being the leopard's lunch. Well, the evolutionary justification is pretty clear- the better you are at figuring out patterns, the greater your chances of survival.

This is what leads us to see those optical illusions where the brain completes a triangle even when you show it only parts of a triangle. It is hardly the brain's fault that we have moved from dense jungles to stupid concrete jungles. Yeah, so what? you might ask. So we see some patterns where there arent any. Its all right. Doesn't really impact us much in our daily life. Well, think again.

How many completely rational humans who otherwise dont believe in superstitions or horoscopes or anything have you heard saying " But yes. She is Aries. Obviously you expect that shortfuse from her.' Or  "Ohh a Leo. Hmm.. that explains a lot". I dont say that these people would make major life decisions based on zodiac signs but somewhere in the back of their minds they are trying to categorise people. And zodiac based categiorising is just one of them. I am no exception to this rule either. I find myself analysing people, especially in an emotional context, based on their zodiac signs.

This could be a big mistake because the universe is essentially random but we have this unstoppable urge to look for patterns. Whats worse, we look for patterns with us in the centre. Lets say you are trying to find a restaurant in a corner of the city you have never been to. The roads are not straight, there are lanes and by-lanes and its a crazy maze. You have made a few wrong turns. And finally something feels right. You think " I have made soo many wrong turns. Now it will be the right turn". Based on nothing. You think that just becuase you have made so many wrong turns the universe is obliged give you the right one now. Well, guess what? The universe doesnt care.  Well, not care isn't the correct way to put it. The universe doesnt know you exist. It goes on being random, doing what it always has and suddenly you swoop in and demand  something favourable to you and you  alone purely because of a pattern seen from your stand point, the universe really couldnt care less.

But its a tough thing to wrap your head around. That all this you are battling, crying, smiling, fighting, struggling for is essentially going unnoticed by the universe. The universe doesnt care that you have failed million times to bend down, pat you on the head and give you the thing you were fighting for. If you are an intelligent human you should have found the thing you were looking for, dont look to the universe for help. It is busy being random.

Perhaps forcibly unseeing the patterns is the difference between surviving and perishing in today's world. Think about it.

Truth is sadder than fiction

She sat on her bed hugging her knees tightly, rocking back and forth trying to calm herself. Her small unlit apartment was oppressively hot and stifling but that wasnt what was weighing her down at the moment. 

"But it had not always been like this" she muttered to herself. Her mind wandered back to their initial days of courtship- the fun dinners, their light easy conversation, his intelligent comments to everything she used to say- how carefree she had been then!. She had imagined herself to be special- he was always dismissive or mildly condescending about all women but she had assumed that he thought of her as different- after all, he chose to go around with her. She couldnt deny it, she did feel slightly smug about it.She had a right to be-  their relationship wasnt like any other. None of the cloyingly sweet romance that was on display all over the campus. They were too cool and casual and she had always wanted it that way. 

Just when did cool slowly but surely morph into cold? 

Was it with the mockery- light and friendly in the beginning ( nothing she couldnt take, in fact she wore it proudly on her sleeve as a mark of their coolness) but somewhere along the way turned into disrespect? Was it with his absolute disregard for her opinions in private and embarrassingly so in public? Her restaurant suggestions did not count-they always went where he wanted. His interests, needs and ideas came first. She had accepted it indulgently, hey, she wasnt one of those whiny nagging types who would keep their boyfriends on leash. He had no respect for that type, she knew- he had made it abundantly clear to her. 

The doorbell rang, hesitantly at first and then impatiently. She let it ring. She had no energy to step off the bed now. 

She couldnt understand it. It seemed like just yesterday that she was walking proudly by his side, holding his arms. Slowly she had began taking tentative steps, letting him walk ahead- letting him guide her. Before she knew it she had blended into his shadow and he was walking all over her.  She couldnt point out when exactly this happened.  Was it when he made disparaging remarks about what she said in front of their friends? Earlier she never took them seriously and would reply with a flippant fitting retort which would earn his grudging respect ( Ah, how she loved that look). Over time somehow she had began ,unknowingly, to believe whatever he had said and in the place of a witty comeback all she had was mute rage. As if she was trapped in a dream where her brain is willing her to say something and her mouth was not able to spell out the words.   

She had been a free bird soaring the sky - why did she find herself on the ground with clipped wings and no zeal to take flight again? In his elaborate manipulative spin he had controlled her, broken her spirit, made her feel worthless ,feel that she had to work hard to keep him- she didnt deserve a prize catch like him. And she had started believing it. And she tried so hard to prove that she was worthy of him. So hard that she had started becoming the person she thought he would like, so much that she had forgotten what it was to be herself. 

Her stomach grumbled.  She had to make do with Maggi. No patience for her cooking skills now. 

She had learnt to cook what he liked. Because he believed that women needed to know how to cook. When exactly did her feminist tendencies leave her? 

 How did I let this happen to me? she wondered listlessly. Did I let myself be abused? But abuse doesnt happen to educated women- it happens to poor women living in slums whose husbands beat them up for money. People raise their eyebrows in respect when I tell them my qualifications. This just could not have happened. He is also an educated person.  No, its not abuse, she tried consoling herself. But she knew the truth. As did her friends,  whose attitude towards her had lately moved in the direction of pity. 

Her phone rang. She disconnected it. She will call them back. She scrolled through her playlist and "Perhaps perhaps perhaps" came on. That had become her song recently. 

There were a lot of "Perhaps" sentences she could think of. Perhaps she should have called it off when he was being evasive about a commitment. Perhaps she should have realised when his frivolity and disregard spilled over from words to actions. Perhaps..

Maybe she should go on a vacation to clear her mind, as all her friends had suggested. But she knew it would be of no use. What was she going to do on that vacation? Sit and brood about how things had gone? Was there any way she could leave herself behind when she went for that vacation ? She didnt have anything to do on a vacation. She only had herself with her morbid thoughts to keep company. 

Suddenly she straightened up. Yes, she still had herself. That would do. For now. 

She got off the bed purposefully and switched on the light. For a moment it was blinding, but it spread its cheerfulness across the room. She smiled. From here it was a long way to happiness, but she had made a start. Perhaps she would make something delicious for herself to eat. 

I absolutely have no use for it. But is it on Sale?

Its as if my thoughts are wild elephants on anti-depressants and writing a blog involves a sole mahout with a stick trying to herd them into alignment. I wonder how regular writers manage t orient their thoughts enough to sit down and start writing. Even if the elephants dont trample the mahout, I would imagine he will die from the sheer stress of the job ahead of him.

Anyhow, this post is not about mind control or how I generally get myself into writing posts. I just had to get that out of my head so I can talk about more um.. useless things. 

If in the earlier days there were just elephants, the anti depressants are provided today by smartphones, social media and general malls. You cant walk inside a mall without "SALE" being shoved at your face. You cant stay on FB for a few minutes without feeling inadequate and being inspired ( mostly by guilt and little bit jealousy) to do something facebook worthy. Invariably you start questioning your lifestyle, your aspirations, your abilities. ( As always a non-negativity disclaimer- I dont know why I feel compelled to put these- perhaps to tell myself that i am not going to be old cat lady ( if anything i might be old cheerful dog lady))- Of course, if you visit the right sites and follow the right people you cant spend a few minutes on these without laughing and shaking your head disbelievingly about how you are so thankful for the internet and wondering (with a slight hint of pity) as to what people did right after they woke in those pre-technology days. ( Gasp! you mean they had to be one with their thoughts? perhaps think about what they wanted to do that day and just peacefully reflect on it? The horror! )  Wow, that was one long tangential disclaimer and I have surely made a mistake in paranthesis closing. See what i mean by elephants on anti-depressants? 

What I was trying to say in the previous paragraph that got lost in the dense foliage of random thoughts is this : We are constantly surrounded by advertising. One is the direct advertising by brands- Axe telling you you are not good enough for girls, Surf excel telling you  you are not a good mom, Dove telling you  that you are average looking and you should be proud of it etc. While its designed to make you feel ill equipped to face this formidable world and induce you to rush out and buy their product it is the safer method  because you are at least aware of it. You know that the Axe man smirking at you is trying to make you conscious about your girl attracting abilities, you know that the Nivea woman raising her hands is doing so in an attempt to make you hide your armpits so that you only raise them next to buy that magic lotion. You can still fight this if you have some sanity. 

The other more dangerous form of advertising is remarkable because neither the advertiser nor the receiver is aware of it. Its the more insidious " Oh I just <bought a house/vacationed in exotic location/jumped to fancier job>  whats up with you?"  It makes you want to take the next flight to Micronesian islands just so you can prove that you are exotic location vaction do-er as well. Everyone competes with everyone else on their list to have cover pic so beautiful that makes you want to renounce pride, jealousy, materialism and be content. And if you are not competing with them you are parodying them( Thus competing with them- saying I am so much better than you at this game that I am going to play a differnt game). 

Receiving the advertising info from humans and trying to live up to it is not a new phenomenon. Its the information overload thats new. Its the same old wine in the same old bottle. Just that now there are lot more bottles. And before you know it you are piss drunk and cluelessly wondering where your life went, how you came to be in this state, and hey, are there more bottles left? 

While the saner amongst have might have realised that there is no value in Gucci over a non-branded handbag, very few of us are even aware, let alone equipped to fight, this stealthy war that we are waging against each other and ourselves. Shutting ourselves down is not the answer, just like abstinence isnt. Its about knowing when to stop- that precarious point between happy high and depressing low. And its almost impossible to achieve it. You invariably make that slip and from there on its a downward spiral. 

What started out to be a post on how advertising generates false needs seems to have morphed into my favourite FB bashing rant. Well, there is only so much controlling a solitary mahout can do.