The Brave Pedestrian

We bleed, dear ones We bleed. Bleed together Bleed apart Peripherically aware Of the pain that we cause The cuts we inflict With sword With shield Blindingly aware of The white heat of pain That we ourselves feel Struck by An adversary's sword Or an ally's shield. We knew of the pain to follow when swords were drawn. Yes, we knew. "Live by the sword Die by the sword," We sportingly said. But Pain, my friend, Is more real Than all the philosophy in the world. We bleed And pay the price for drawing first blood Or failing to. Pray that the adversary's sword was clean. Pray that the ally's shield was clean. Pray that our own blood is clean. Pray that the wound is clean. Pray that the pain that we suffer Is Clean. Pray that the tears That blind us Are clear, purifying. Pray for Cleanness Clarity Purity. But pray not for Peace. Seek not the peace that Makes the sword rust in its sheath. Wounds shall heal But rusted swords... Ah, my friends What can we do to ease th...

In the context of the debate on whether there should be a strict law on MARITAL RAPE, here are my questions to all of you, my friends: Suppose I set out to WRITE A BOOK ON MARITAL SEX IN 21ST CENTURY INDIA on the subject, and for this purpose, I decide to INTERVIEW 101 COUPLES about the different kinds of sex they have with their spouse (e.g. oral, anal, mutual masturbation, consensual, perversions and fetishes, fantasies, use of sex toys, giving or taking sexual favours unde r moral/emotional compulsion or physical force (or freely and voluntarily), having sex without desire just to placate the partner, having forced and repeated sex using Viagra, etc. etc.) So, if I asked you and your spouse such candid questions, and expected very frank and straightforward replies on your sexual preferences... And if I also asked you questions about EPISODES OF VIOLENCE IN YOUR MARRIED LIFE -- about being at the giving end or the receiving end of the spectrum of violence, starting from mild...

Not all dogmas originate in religious mumbo-jumbo, old customs and beliefs. Some of the most injurious dogmas are invisible to us because they are woven into our social millieu -- the secular-global-careerist-consumerist culture that prevails. Let me pinpoint one such dogma IDGiSA-IDTaSA (pronounced as 'Idgeesa-Idtaasa). The full form is: "I don't give shit to anyone, I don't take shit from anyone." We have a minds-eye picture of a model citizen who lives and lets live -- a pleasant, helpful, no-nonsense person. And we each believe that we are this model citizen. And therefore, when we percieve someone as interfering in our lives, we turn indignant and say, "IDGiSA-IDTaSA!!!" It's a dogma. It is thoroughly untrue. Living is a process of giving shit and taking shit as well as gold. You exhale what I inhale, you fart what I inhale... and unless I learn to hold my breath for a verry long time, I doubt I can escape a whiff of what's in your re...

My experiences over the past couple of days, detailed in my earlier blogs, has given me an insight. The way I used to understand the saying, “To err is human, to forgive, divine”, was like this: People who err are being only human, but  those who forgive others are being more than just human, ie. divine . That’s not how I see it now. My present interpretation is: To err is second-nature to humans, but to forgive is not so easy;  it requires divine intervention and Grace . I’m not saying that people have no responsibility in the matter. One must, at some level, want to let go of all the bitterness, pain and hunger for vengeance. One must, at some level, make a conscious choice to be happy and free, as opposed to resentful and tied up to the past. However, having taken this conscious position, one cannot consciously forgive as an act of volition. One may say,  “Jao, maaf kiya”  but the heart is not cleansed by just those words. Only the rainfall of forgivene...

March 8, 2007, Mumbai: Everyday, when my son goes to school, after a few quick games of stone-paper-scissor with me while we wait together at his school bus, I find myself saying, “Enjoy yourself! Have fun!” rather than “Take care.”  I grew up hearing my folks saying, “Take care” in several different ways. I don’t remember ever hearing them say, “Enjoy yourself” to me, or to each other, when we went out. Methinks these are signs of the changing times. Looking around on the iLand, and chatting with my iLand friends, I find that happily married people — both men and women — are now looking for intimate friends of the opposite sex, and seeking to somehow infuse fresh colours in their happy but monotonous lives. Through their poems and musings, I hear them saying,   “There must be more to life than being normal and settled, and bringing up the children. I want that now… and even at the risk of being thought of as a ‘bad-character’.” Increasing...

In the unforgiving light of this morning, Unwilling to open my eyes, Unable to face myself and the world And you, I cower and cringe in bed. I look back at what we said and did last night A night of resentment, simmering anger, Recriminations and vengeful thoughts, Lashing out with clever, witty, cruel remarks… And when the guilt grew intolerable, I lashed out in animal fury. A restless night of tossing and turning, and wishing The bitter conversation had not happened at all, Wishing we could somehow wipe the slate clean And re-establish a peace where neither of us Would feel defeated or rubbished Or guilty. A night of wishing for warmth and love and forgiveness, And also wishing to strike a blow that brought you to your knees in pain… Wishing to wipe your tears, wishing you would wipe mine… I ponder: What part was your fault, and what must I own up? Should I have said what I said? Should I have said it all with the viciousness that I did? And yet, given what you said and did ...

“Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high… Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, Let my WORLD awaken.” – With apologies to Rabindranath Tagore I keep writing about freedom, but so far I’ve tended to write about it in a marital/sexual context. Freedom, if it is present, touches all areas of our lives and makes our lives sublime. It raises our lives above the mundane by liberating us from whatever is petty and crass in our lives. We cease to exist as men and women, and learn to live as MEN and WOMEN. We cease to exist as mere consumers of goods and services, and live as CITIZENS. We cease to merely think, and begin to SEE and FEEL. We cease to merely exist, and begin to LIVE.  We cease to be cogs in a wheel, and become little wheels in our own right. This I firmly believe. How does this translate into reality? How would it feel to live in a world where freedom dwells in a lot of hearts? Let me put it in the form of a short story (or a series of short st...

“ Maanglik of the worst sort. The malefic influence of Mars in her kundali ensures that if you marry her, you will suffer an unnatural death before the year is over. No two ways about it,” said the old man gravely, shaking his grey locks. “What about my horoscope? Don’t I get any protection from my own astral heritage?” asked the young man. “None whatsoever, my son! Forget this match and move on in life! You have a full life ahead… your planetary influences are good, and the stars indicate success in most of the ventures that you will undertake…” “Let me think about it, Uncle. I need to consult with Shalini first. After all, humne pyaar kundali dekhke nahin kiya tha, ” said Vishal, rising. Damn, he should never have gotten into this astrology chakkar. But trust a woman to insist on some superstitious mumbo-jumbo before taking an all-important step in life! When they met that evening, he was silent. “What did Panditji say?” Shalini asked. “You knew what exactly he was going t...

Our greatest joy in life can leave the biggest hole in our hearts, she reflected, standing before the mirror, studying the way her saree now draped around her. It looked good. To an outsider, it would look perfect. It would look as though nothing had changed. But everything had changed. Oh God, how rapidly everything had changed! Ten months? No, less! Far less. Tears welled up in her eyes. She wept for herself. And then she wept for her husband. Sobbing softly, she wept for them both. Just a few weeks had elapsed since she had first felt those lumps near her armpit, while soaping herself in the bathroom. Concerned, she had called her husband in. He had stepped into the wet bathroom, grinning. “So, you want me to help you soap yourself, huh? With pleasure, darling, with pleasure!” Suppressing the anxiety that was already gnawing at the pit of her stomach, she had handed him the bar of soap, and allowed him to soap her breasts, closing her eyes. It never ceased to amaze h...

One of my friends recently remarked in his blog:  “ Men romance and woo women, be thoughtful to them, take care, promise to protect them, slay dragons, scale mountains…. with only one goal on their minds – to get between the legs of the unsuspecting starry-eyed one. Women, on the other hand, allow men to have sex with them with the hope that somewhere down the line they will romance and woo them, be thoughtful to them, take care, promise to protect them, slay dragons, scale mountains. Thats how procreation continues and the two parties maintain some equilibrium!” From this, one would conclude that Civilization is based on two mutually complementary lies, or illusions. But my case is that our current civilization is based on an uneven contract  –  one side being socially enforceable, and the other side, not. Feminine strategy consists essentially of saying to the male, more with body language than anything else, “Marry me, commit to me and my offspring,...