Oh Cruel Life, but then theres light at the end of the tunnel...

wednesday, bloody wednesday

I'm a member of a blood donors group, and since I have O neg, which is relatively rare, I get requests for donations once in a while. So I wasn't exactly surprised when I got a call requesting me to donate for the benefit of a 10 year old kid afflicted with leukemia, or blood cancer. I landed up at the blood bank without much fanfare, and apprehensive of the fact that I had binged on alcohol the night before, I proceeded to take a prick test. Three hours, later I was informed that my blood was "clean" and I was asked to proceed with the donation.

The technician grasped my hand, tied the band and told me to squeeze a cylinder. He says, in bengali; "aapnar bhen gulo besh bhalo" which means your veins are very prominent. I thought "yours would be too if you curled with 60 lb dumbbells thrice a week. Anyhow he guided a finger along my taught vein and stabbed in the needle. I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth and squeezed the cylinder tightly. A sharp pain, then a serene numbness. I couldn't really feel the elixir of my life flowing down to the sterile plastic bag, but a myriad of thoughts went though my mind. WhileI bled in a controlled fashion, I realised how we are all linked together at such a fundamental level. Heres a kid, who I have not met, probably will never meet, and here I am draining away 350 ml of my blood so that he could live. Leukemia is such a terrible illness. It entails multiple blood transfusions and even then theres no guarantee that the victim will survive the ordeal. I thought about the alcohol level in the red juice that collected beside me. Would it really matter, would it get his traumatised body high? would it comfort him?. Would he ever grow up to be a fine young man. Will his poor father's weathered look ever change from that of despair to that of hope and relief. Will he curse the almighty for putting him and his hapless son through this dark journey of uncertainty and despair. Will God stop using his family as a case study of human persistence of courage under fire? In his grim eyes, I saw the unconditional love of a father for his son. He probably knows that it will eventually end in tears, but that doesn't deter him from doing whatever it takes to keep his son alive, even though it's for a few more months or maybe days. If I'm not being blasphemous, I wondered can God really be this sick bastard, who spawns a life, only to take it back after 10 measly years? 10 years of this kid being the apple of his parents eyes, 10 years of the joys of parenthood, 10 years of uncorrupted innocence before this kid has a chance to claim his own ground. If so ...why? Was it bad genetics? was it destiny? I've stopped grappling for answers, as there are none.

At the end of it all...I told myself "and I thought I was going through a crisis!"

globalisation on a micro-local scale

Have a look at this... snapped this on my phone at a certain crossing in the mad bylanes of south cal. The diner (dare if I call it one) is named after a belgian reporter, serves chinese food (garnished with garam masala no doubt) and caters to the bengali diaspora. However it does goes to show the deep rootedness of cold-war era pop culture in the Indian psyche.

Musings on the Rizwanur Rahman Tragedy

For those aware of the Rizwanur Rahman tragedy, they know what I'm talking about. For those who do not, well here's the scoop

Now I'm not going to discuss the unholy criminal-police nexus, or the fact that money talks and a dead man walks, well atleast before he is allegedly pummeled by a speeding train. The press has had multiple field days on this, with no signs of relenting; well good for them. What interests me however is the whole dynamics of the ill fated love between these two high unlikely lovers, hailing from extremely disparate socio-economic and religious backgrounds. What the hell were they thinking? Wasn't Priyanka aware of the fact, that her ultra conservative and ultra loaded marwari family would never ever accept her liason, let alone marriage, with a relatively impoverished young muslim man. Was she getting even with her family, and was apprehensive of the fact that she would be married off to some rich marwari scion of maybe of a competing firm, in a fashion that echoed a business deal rather than a union of two loving souls. Or was she a dreamer, who dreamed about setting up a family with a working-class struggler, a man who would love her for what she was, and not for what her family had to offer. The idea is extremely romantic and heartfelt, but Priyanka's lofty ideals just might have been the cause of poor Rizwan's undoing.

On to Rizwans side of the story, it is now evident that he loved Priyanka dearly. A soft, tender man who lived and died in the name of unconditional love.

Now I can see two scenarios from both idealistic and cynical perspectives. The first one being, Rizwan was so driven in his boundless love for Priyanka, that he for once never let any feelings of inadequacy or social incompatibility corrupt the lofty ideals of his helpless heart. Call it a reality check if you must. I am simply too stupefied at him for having the balls to believe in himself and in his dreams. Dreams…and aspirations for a better tomorrow, with Priyanka by his side. Dreams that transcended way higher than the brutal realities of an unforgiving society, and generally of the sick joke we call life. It’s no wonder that his martyrdom, for being an angel of love has the youth up in arms for his cause. Rizwan just ended up making the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of his love. In his demise, he gave the masses hope, he told them it’s OK to be deprived and perhaps mediocre, but that doesn’t deter anyone from pursuing their dreams and believing in love and themselves. He taught them to think beyond the lowly pettyness of social, economic and religious segregation. He taught them the worth of self-esteem. He taught them what integrity of character is all about. He told them you just can’t put up a price on your beliefs and ideals, as it’s reported that he allegedly refused a blank cheque from Ashok Todi, for letting go of her. This, my dear friends, makes Rizwanur Rahman, a true, real-life hero, with whom everyone irrespective of their social standing can relate to. Bottomline; he taught us to be humane in an inhuman world.

Really touched already aren’t you? Well you’re reading the blog of a sick party pooper, so here’s my spin from the other perspective, the darker and the more cynical one.

However looking at it from a holistic point of view, we know certain facts about Rizwan. he was 30, and he knew he had to get married off. No offence to his departed soul, but could it be the case that he knew that he hit the proverbial mother lode. Was Priyanka a worthy conquest to him, as he knew that financially atleast, she was way beyond his league. My devious mind also conjures up a sinister hypothesis that he was counting on the fact, that if he went ahead and took the plunge, he knew he would be up against massive opposition initially, but sooner or later her family would accept the inevitable and thus that would make Priyanka's return on investment higher than any hedge fund wall street has ever come up with.

But now since Rizwan is no more, we will never ever get to know what went through his mind.

On the inter-religious aspect of it, there has always been a collective consciousness against this by certain sections of society. It is a touchy matter. We know that "sometimes" it is not an issue in case the families are educated and forward thinking. This sure wasnt the case here. I'm sure things wouldve been different, if Priyanka was the man, and Rizwan the girl. This tragedy could’ve been avoided altogether, but there would've probably been a different issue in terms of social ostracization of the girls family. When it comes to women, people and families consider them to be the manifestation of their sometimes myopic social pride and respectability, or a personal fiefdom, and so they are often unwilling to make any compromises. In most cases it usually results in the disowning of the sacrilegious person. In extreme cases like this one, people get killed.

At the end of the day however, my heart really goes out for poor Priyanka. It is she who must live with the overbearing emotional guilt of being the indirect cause of the death of the only person she probably loved and cared for. Like the scars of the self inflicted wounds of a jilted lover, she will probably pay a lifelong price of being deemed as the woman who brought about shame to her community and causing the devaluation of her family’s reputation and perhaps, fortune, in the long run. If I could communicate to her, all I would say is "may time and faith redeem your tormented soul and bring about some closure."

Love works in mysterious ways, so the conclusion...well there are no conclusions. All I can ask myself is "Does love really conquer all?"

why I joined, dropped out and joined again

if u hit http://heynownow.blogspot.com you'd noticed I'd got the whiff of this way back in '03. Bah crappy novelty I said, who's gonna waste their time to read the shite I put up I asked myself. I was wrong. 4 years go by and while I'm stuck in the world of mundane routine and associated mediocrity that goes along with it, the world changes. People start expressing themselves, and heck I'd lost out on the pioneering value but am convinced its never too late to start something new. Now matter however cliched it is and no matter how many other people are doing it. Why am I doing this, truth is I dont know...just know I have to. Its not peer influence, not an outburst of perceived creativity that suddenly feels the compelling need to escape from within me, like maggots from a corpse, its just the thought of being left out without have had the chance of expressing myself for my own sake. I am doing this, its the need t have an utterly useless habit, maybe out of compulsion but not competetion for once.