Sunday, December 27, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
1. Grandparents hate skydiving gift certificates and children hate those Christmas socks and lunch boxes. So keep in mind the age of the person while choosing gifts.
2. Even an inexpensive gift look good if wrapped well. So wrap it up gals, use your imagination, get vibrant wrapping papers and include a small note of how much you care about the person you are giving the gift to.
3. With recession in its full swing take full opportunity of the holiday sale and buy your gifts early. You may get a great gift for some one special at a mind-boggling low price.
4. Check online for store deals and get those coupons printed before you hit the shop. Internet shopping is good too.
5. Do not repeat last year's gifts. You can give your old gifts to somebody provided it is well wrapped and well kept and unused.
6. Never wrap anything you find at home. Remember a map of New York is a lousy gift to give.
7. Investing on a pair of sexy hot pink underwear for your adorable boyfriend is complete no-no.
8. Every person has some interests and hobbies. Think about the interests of the person before choosing gifts for him/her. Remember your wife will hate a microwave oven or a Good Housekeeping Guide DVD. Instead give her a perfume, a book by her favorite author or a Macy's gift card.
9. Chocolates, flowers, wine, jewelry and books are evergreen gifts.
10. Give some local love. Choose local and seasonal gifts that are en vogue for your friends and loved ones.
Lastly, choose your gifts judiciously. Be prudent and not extravagant. Don’t forget that gifts are the tokens of love; be sure that you choose the right tokens for your loved ones. Happy shopping!!
Picture Courtesy :http://catherinemarie.files.wordpress.com/2007/12/christmas-gifts.jpg
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
I chose to greet you all with a French term since it seems that Bengalis have become French fanatics these days. Last week I was reading a sports report in Anandabazaar Patrika, our very own Bengali daily, and I was struck by the report on Thierry Daniel Henry, the French footballer. Anandabazaar insists that we call him: 'Aunry' and not ‘Henry’ (the normal way we say it like H-E-N-R-Y). But what I don’t understand is why Frenchisize Bengali? I mean is there any reason to do that? Keeping in mind the fact that people who ‘eat water’ (jol khae) and interact daily with Bengalis and not French, ought to care less about a metamorphosis of their language. But Anandabazaar knows it all, and perhaps thinks that to reach an elite class of Bengali people, they need to experiment with the jargon of the hoi polloi, and when there aren’t any legible ways to do that, why not introduce Spanish, French, Russian etc words in the Bengali daily and voilà—there you have it, a posh Bengali language, oft using foreign phrases (without understanding). But excusez-moi isn’t a French-Bengali combo a little unappetizing to the ears? Well, it may be to you, but not to all. In fact, the intellectual midwifery that is going on in Kolkata thrives in most cases on the use of such baseless superficiality. But if Bengalis need to speak French everyday they should better twist their tongues. I wonder how that auto driver or a cab driver or someone representing the lower middle class would pronounce 'Aunry'. I wish I could ask Anandabazaar the question.
Modernization of a culture and modernization of a language are two different things. If you have a closer look at the Bengali culture in Kolkata you will understand the dichotomy better. A great number of people in Kolkata live on pennies, a chunk of its youth population thinks that shopping malls and not libraries are the ultimate destination of life, a part of its middle class considers more the innovative ways of accruing wealth and turns a blind eye to knowledge. To them a modernization of language would mean nothing, I doubt if they would ever appreciate Anandabazaar’s bold effort of introducing a French word in Bengali lexicon. Then why do it for people who couldn’t care less about your effort and might dismiss it as a misprint? You might say that I am being parochial, but put on your thinking caps and you might also come to the same deduction that Bengalis need a modernization of their lives. They need a clean metropolitan, a less avaricious government, and eradication of signs of poverty much more than a put on superficial language at this moment. Anandabazaar should better try and find novel ways of encouraging the people to be good and responsible citizens and provide more though provoking articles in future instead of transmuting the Bengali language.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
At the heart of pain, death and the inferno of desire
There still lie peace, pleasure and unbounded bliss.
Everyday life meanders in its usual course
The smiling Sun, moon and stars
Fill the blue with eternal bliss
Spring unfurls its beauteous shades
Waves rise to fall back
Flowers depart this life to live again
There is no loss, no end, and no exhaustion in this world
So my soul seeks to dwell at the feel of this profuse delight.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Long Story Short: http://www.alongstoryshort.net/Checkers.html
Thursday, November 5, 2009
I have always felt that there is a wall, a barrier perhaps, between me and the outside world, and that barrier appears to be impenetrable at times. Many a times I have wished to tear down this wall, but each time, I have failed. I cannot deny the fact that in many ways I am afraid of the scathing real world; it is so different from my own glass house of comfort and warmth and however much I try to be a citizen of this other world I know I would be unsuccessful. The dichotomy between the real and the unreal became evident during my last India trip. I was surprised to see the new India (after three long years)—polished, brand conscious, bragging, rich and hostile and the old India—poor, emaciated, crying and broken. One who has an eye can catch these images very easily and store them or delete them from his mind. I chose to delete them temporarily and I cannot deny that I was kind of relieved to see no signs of poverty or desperation after I had disembarked in Nashville. In my one and half month tour of India I have often felt inhuman because there was nothing I could do to erase the terrible signs of pain and desperation. I tried to be philanthropic but when I thought that my one philanthropic act wouldn’t change the whole scenario, I felt helpless. What struck me most is that the canaille who are perpetually trying to act, live and pretend like the super-rich upper middle class and middle class people are successfully drowning into the false glory of excessive superficiality. In fact the whole country at one point seemed a superficial globe of unthinking people who only care about themselves. I know I sound harsh, but this is what I have felt. On many occasions I have seen signs of poverty raging in the city pavements, street children, crying beggars, specter thin child labors trying hard to survive for one more day while the unthinking, roll eating, food wasting crowd walking past them without even casting one glance. I cannot deny that modern India with its sky-scraping malls is a model of advancement, but I have to say that advancement hasn’t reached the nooks and corners of the country. Underneath the facade of avant garde gadgets and posh shopping malls, people still gloat in the darkness of caste system and racial discrimination. Women still now are the second class citizens of the patriarchal land, and however much a woman tries to explore her innate super abilities, she cannot be equal to the male members of her household. A group of women are even proud being subservient to the will of the male members. People often say that I am cynical, but I feel if one only sees good the evils of the world would go unnoticed and if that happens, there will be no opportunity for the evil to change its color. I think the quality of people in India has declined terribly. In the streets I found people yearning to find an opportunity to fight with each other and insult each other. Like the city traffic that does not care about the walkers, the city people too have learned to care less about their neighbors. I was wrong in expecting courteous behavior outside the aegis of my family. Overall, my India trip was an eclectic experience where in one hand I spent lovely time with friends and family and on the other hand it was a blow to my sensitive soul seeing the ugly part of India that no body cares about. India needs to grow up in spirit; mall culture and brand consciousness will do no good to the country until the citizens learn to respect and care about each other. Respecting women is an important thing and judging them by their attire is wrong. Growth and development come first into one's mind and as a country India needs to broaden the horizon of her mind and create generous and loving people in future. I wish that the next time I visit India the ugly scars of poverty, pain and disrespect would be eradicated from the face of my country.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Net Lingo - How Cool Is That?
I am wondering when the avant garde technological companies will be coming up with a "Cool-Meter"--a device like a thermometer to measure how cool you are. Wouldn’t that be cool especially during this time of the 'Web-Age' when the internet has just finished blowing out its forty birthday candles? I think that would be cool, rather super cool! Don't mind the pun folks, its totally unintended!! And by cool please don’t think that I am talking about a sudden drop of your normal body temperature (that could be fatal, by the way), I am talking about the coolness of your 'Attitude'--your unruffled comport, your dress, your language and expressions as influenced by the Zeitgeist. Well not many of us can survive in this evil world of the web without being cool, and what is the easiest thing to look or feel or show how cool one is--a change of one's language. Do a complete metamorphosis of the alphabets and syllables and vowels and grammar (whatever you have learned in school, but you rather not tell your teacher about that, I bet he/she wouldn’t be very happy with the space-age transformation of a language) and voila, you get a cool outfit to dress your mouth (your language silly, I am not talking about lipstick).
Let me give you a couple of examples and elucidate my point: "HW ru?" "howz lyf" or even shorter "tc" "thanx" "vre impressiv" and the list goes on and on and on. Mind you there isn’t any difference between 'caps lock on' or 'caps lock off' in cool net lingo. In fact, I don’t remember the last time I heard a complete sentence from a series of people I interact with in the virtual world, most of them talk in such great and cool net lingo that an "uncool" person like me cannot just catch up with them. I think people are getting so busy these days that they seem to have no time to type a full sentence, even though typing "how are you?" takes only a fraction of a second more than typing "hw r u" (the question mark isn’t always there). It is the text messaging revolution and the instant messaging culture that begot this 'nuevo net lingo'. And soon after its birth, "be right back" became "BRB", "laugh out loud" became "LOL" and so on. I do understand the usage of such abbreviated forms of expressions in a text message or while chatting because there one has a shortage of space to write on, but I don’t know why people use such lingo everywhere (from emails to Facebook)? Pardon my troglodytic idea about cool lingo, but I simply don’t get it. I some how feel that a language is sacrosanct and therefore inviolable, and when I see people around me are conversing in this language at social networking websites, blogging sites and even in emails, I cannot help but feel agitated. I guess this is high time I get used to this revolutionary new English or whatever it is else I might end up as a loner in this world.
Net Lingo surely and undeniably has a great influence on the world, wait till the day the Times of India reads something like this:
TOI: NWS, SPRTS, ENTRNMNT, LFE&STYL, HT ON THE WB, OP, BLGS, CLASS
Hdlns: Jt Arwys flghts canclld coz plots go o9 mss casl leav
I tell you that day is not far when every thing in this world starting from your résumé to your formal letter to the boss would be written in cool net lingo. I wonder how my resume would look, probably like this:
POB: Kol, WB
The process would undoubtedly be great since we are all engaged in the marathon rat-race of career to such an extent that our lives are devoid of leisure or entertainment or feeling good about our work, during these tough times who wants to worry about a malleable language? But I think the spirits of Shakespeare or Keats would never compose even their random thoughts in this net lingo. May be people are losing originality these days or may be it is the "chalta hai" culture that is responsible for the transformation of language (English in this case) or may be people like us who love the English language and try to learn it to the best of our ability should better give up their high hopes of listening to or learning an unstained, pure English and try becoming cool like others.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
I felt bad for Woody Allen, who had put so much thought and effort in his movie, and now some nameless Bollywood director took everything and stripped his work of its gravity. I also detest the way the Bollywood copy-movies never mention the name of the actual movie or the name of the director who they copied their movie and screen play from. I found no referencing, not a word about Woody Allen in Dil Kabaddi; the director just used Allen’s art to glorify his own name. He must have thought how a large section of Indian audience would come to know about the art-theft? Keeping in mind the fact that a large portion of Bollywood loving people have no access to internet or Hollywood movies; his theft would be unknown to the world. But there sure are people like us, bloggers and intellectuals, who before garlanding the director with beloved praises would love be critical to the form of art he has produced. There are so many good Indian writers and they have produced masterpieces in literature and art, I wonder why Bollywood never thinks of using some of such great creative works in their movies. If you watch carefully most of the recent Bollywood movies, you will notice that it is ‘love’ which is the sole topic of almost all the movies, often blended with hot spices like ‘religious clashes and vendettas’, ‘gangster wars’ and then again ‘love’. The circle is so small; they only have a handful of topics. As for the dialogues, let’s give that part a blind eye. I cannot recall one good movie after Taare Zameen Par and A Wednesday or Madhur Bhandarkar’s Page 3 that touched me. And after watching Husbands and Wives, I have decided to abstain from watching Bollywood movies unless they are original and creative. When Bollywood talks about class and quality, I know they are merely rodomontading about their marketing skills.
Finally, I have forever wondered why Satyajit Ray is the only film director Hollywood and International Film Community respects? I now have the answer. Ray was original and talented. His passion for art was real and not adulterated with money making strategies. That is probably why his works are classics in the world of cinema, and even if he is no longer with us, his masterpieces—Apu Trilogy, Ghare baire and other works—have broken all the boundaries of time and space and they will continue to be the only Kohinoor in Indian cinema. I am angered even with the idea of comparing a genius like Ray with the modern Bollywood directors, who lack the zeal of producing quality cinema. They can never be Ray, because they never try or aim to become somebody like him.
A few weeks back, I was having a conversation with a friend, and we were talking about the Oscars and why Bollywood never gets one nowadays. Slumdog Millionaire is NOT a Bollywood movie, even though it used Bollywood technicians and musicians, it is a directorial work of Danny Boyle. Slumdog Millionaire in fact is a slap on contemporary Bollywood movies since it depicts in its central theme and structure the Indian author Vikas Swarup’s book “Q&A”. Couldn’t an Indian director have made this movie? Couldn’t he have used the genius of A.H Rahman and Gulzar to make the heavenly music for it, but did they do it—No! Then why does Bollywood treat Slumdog Millionaire as its own property when the truth is, it is not. Bollywood has all the talent it needs to make an Oscar winning movie, the problem is they never use their talents in a proper way, they never channel creativity in masterful fashion. I am happy that talented actors like Anil Kapoor and Irfan Khan are exploring Hollywood and not being incarcerated in the cell of the Bollywoodi world where they have no scope to flourish and express their creativity.
© Barnali Banerjee., all rights reserved.
Forward this message 2 ur ATLEAST 10 friends including me
2 make ur mom live long”
Have you ever thought what could happen if you don’t forward this message from some anonymous philosopher? I guess your mother would have to die an untimely death and that too because of you and your skepticism.
I received the above message from a virtual friend at a social networking website. I was instantly shocked that he, who is a lawyer, could forward an utterly illogical, brainless forward message to his friends. These spam forward messages and mails flood our mailboxes everyday, and each one has some imperative message in it. They ask us to forward the message, in most cases, to all the people in our contact list and thereby save ourselves from utter mishap. If you read them carefully, you will feel that Cassandra’s clairvoyant spirit might have haunted these divine philosophers who write these predictions in their dream, and her specter might have insisted that they read the mind of the world. But Cassandra would never do such a thing, since she, I guess, has more important things to do, and I think people who write these baseless messages and use the softer side of our mind to propagate their bogus ideas, should better find another useful profession.
The soul aim of these forward junk posts, as I call them, are to make us truckle in the face of misfortune. We as human beings should have the courage to face life; and our minds, in order to prosper, should be devoid of baseless fears and superstitions. I agree that faith plays an important role in our lives; I think religion and belief are an intrinsic part of our existence. But these people use the suppleness of our mind and force us to believe that if we don’t cater to their wishes (i.e. forwarding the mails or messages) something really bad would happen or we would miss the chance of changing our checkered lot. My question to these people is where on earth did they know all these? Did they meet the Almighty? Or did they decipher the codes of life and death? I know they cannot answer me, because their prescience depends on chicanery. They make a series of chimerical stuff up and throw them at humble and honest people. And these people, mostly out of fear or out of sheer practice, instead of stopping the process of sending and receiving these junk mails altogether, send the mails to every contact in the list and thereby propagate the bogus ideas.
Here are a few mails that I had in my inbox:
I do not have any personal acquaintance with the President of Argentina, and due to my lackadaisical social skills, I totally forgot to forward this important message. I did have a lot of disorder in my life, well, we all do, but I am not intending to blame my act of not sending this mail to others for my personal problems. I am not agnostic, I am a believer in divine grace, but I detested the mail because it intimidates me and God never threatens or intimidates His children. I realized that Jesus or Mother Mary didn’t mail me so I discarded this message. My passive approach to the juggernaut of future did make me feel powerful. I am glad that I am not swayed by common practices and that I choose to bear my individuality and judge every situation by my own wit rather than listening to others and following their views blindly.
Here is another one:
Even though, at these strenuous economical situations, we all need Mahalaxmi to bless us fiscally, I don’t wish an electronic message to convey my wishes to her. I am old fashioned in transmitting my wishes to God, and I trust a silent prayer more than this email. So, I did not forward the mail and dug a pothole in my fortune.
Finally, I would like to say that faith and belief are one's personal choices and I don’t intend to denigrate one’s personal believes, but if people read the junk mails before forwarding, I am sure we will be receiving them less often than we do now. Exploitation of believes have become a thriving industry in India, and I wish to see a newer India devoid of a pile of superstitions in her mind. Destiny can not be averted, misfortune and good fortune come in circles; and happiness and sorrow would come and go even if you send these mails or not. I believe in the inner goodness of humanity and I detest the art of trickery that these junk forward messages are using to sway the human mind. As a blogger and a writer, I would be happy and would consider my effort positive, if you abstain from sending the next forward mail you get in your inbox.
© Barnali Banerjee., all rights reserved.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
My little journey began when I got married to my childhood love and disembarked at the O’Hare Airport, Chicago on May 18th 2006. I was then in my early twenties, newly married. I had no idea what I was up to. I didn’t know what to expect from an immigrant life with a dependant visa in my passport. I could do nothing—no job, no study—nothing. When my friends in India were basking in the glory of their new jobs and bold career decisions, I was being merely a homemaker. Being a homemaker label on you is popularly held as some kind of an offense; people have pestered me with innumerable queries as to how I spend my time at home. “Must be painful for you?” “Why don’t you get a job?” are some of the queries I am now used to hearing. So there I was, lonely as a winter night, totally dubious about the prospect of having a career, trying hard to get an admission at some universities, but nothing was working out. I was depressed, shattered, and friendless. Then I took to writing – I had always loved writing something creative. Even if I never thought of taking it seriously, I decided to spend the ocean of time I had writing some meaningful stuff. When I was in India, I wrote a short story “Dead Madonna”, and read it to my then fiancé, now husband. He was ecstatic, even though now I regard that story as an immature experiment; he told about it to everybody and had encouraged me to start writing seriously. Now, when he saw my current situation— my intolerable state of coping with a new country and a new community where every one I see around is working, he gave me the idea of repeating the writing experiment again. I still remember the terrible bouts of loneliness I had when I would spend my days crying for help, and there would be no one beside me to soothe except my dear husband. I took his words seriously and wrote couple of poems and started dabbling in writing.
One night, as I opened my email, I found an unexpected email from the editor of DNA-ME. She had written in her email that my short story, Dead Madonna, had been published in her magazine. I was ecstatic! It was a moment I would never forget in my life. That was my first big publication, I couldn’t believe my eyes. My husband spent the whole night even calling up folks back in India who had the idea that I was a failure! I jumped and cried, called my parents, and showed everybody the story. That was my first life changing incident that led me to believe that may be I can write! The following day I activated my comatose Sulekha blogging account and decided to pour some energy into it.
From then on, I began to write, and believe me; I never knew where the ideas came from. The plots of my initial writings came almost like some sudden storms in a tropical country. My hubby bought me several books on writing style and technique, and inspired me to read them and talk about what I learnt from them with him after he is back from work. Even though he is a scientist, he listened to my creative ideas, and even inspired me to submit my works to some magazines in the USA. I was not confident, and I detested the idea of criticisms and rejections by magazines in USA who have this highly competitive submission process. But he was all encouraging, he told me about his PhD research experience in this country – how his advisor taught him everything from designing an experiment to conducting the challenging research work by overcoming occasional failures, and finally, presenting the results in a written form of a peer reviewed paper. He was so nice to me and he still is, more than my parents, my friends, my relatives who at one point had the idea that an ordinary woman like me with average education could never make it to the point I have reached today. It was my husband who taught me to think big, or at least to aim for it.
I began trying my best to write. I started reading seriously the text books for the MFA courses in top US universities by myself, rather devoured them. I spent hours thinking about what I read and how the book influenced me. Although I became socially less active, and some time even little moody, today I think those books have become an intrinsic part of my life; they are my real friends, my soul-mates. During this time, I met a wonderful girl at a social networking website who is a master blogger, an experienced editor, and a poet. We became friends and I decided to show her some of my early write-ups. She instantly pointed out thousands of mistakes that I had made in my work. I was outraged and soon broke all ties with her. But, it so happened, that destiny brought us together and we became friends, confidantes probably. I began giving her my writings to go through them and check for mistakes. She was an editor at one point in her life and she masterfully pointed out the flaws. This time, I took it upon myself to write something so wonderful, so good that she would have to say, “You are an amazing writer” and yes, she did say it, a week back after reading one of my new short stories. She is another angel to me who taught me to take English seriously, to love that language and even feel it in my nerves. She modified my crude style and made me feel confident as a writer. It is because of her that I got the confidence of sending my works to American magazines, and guess what, even though I got several rejection letters, I did get some acceptance letters too. So, here I am, two and half years later, a completely changed and relatively mature human being who is thinking of taking writing professionally in near future. I have discovered my passion, my ultimate goal and now I know exactly what I love to do—write. I may be just a speck in the sea of writers, but I am confident that if am choosing the right path for me. Overall, I am an ordinary woman with a major role as a homemaker, and I love to take care of the man who makes my life worth living. You don’t get a “Thanksgiving Day” everyday, today I would like to thank these two people—my husband and my friend for being so wonderful and for teaching me to be confident and smart.
I love you!
Here is a list of my published and would be published creative works:
1. Critical Appreciation of “The Lamb” by William Blake: “Words' Worth”— Journal of the Department of English, Sivanath Sastri College, West Bengal, India (2004).
2. Dead Madona (Short Story): Published in the “DNA-Me”, Issue- August 2008, Daily News Analysis (DNA) group, Mumbai, India.
3. Being a Tree (Poem) : Published in the Palki magazine, Issue-5, October 2008
4. Friends Forever (Poem): Published in the 8th Day, The Statesman, December 14, 2008; Kolkata, India.
5. Ode to autumn (Poem): Published in the 8th Day, The Statesman, December 14, 2008; Kolkata, India.
6. The Game (Short Story): Published in the 8th Day, The Statesman, January 2009, Kolkata, India.
7. Tale of the Sea (Short Story): Published in the Palki magazine, issue-6, February 2008.
8. I Hope (Poem) published in the Palki magazine, issue-6, February 2009.
9. If You Lived Here, I'd Know Your Name (Book review): Published in the Windows and Aisles Magazine, official in-flight magazine of the Paramount Airways, India.
10.Road to Smoky Paradise (Travelogue): Published in The Indian Express, Chennai Edition, December 2008, India.
11.Road to Smoky Paradise (Travelogue): Published in The Indian Express, Hyderabad Edition, January 2009, India.
12.Addiction (Short Story): Published in the Many Midnights magazine, March 2009, USA.
13.The Kleptomaniac (Short Story): Published in the Pens on Fire magazine, April 2009, USA.
14.Welcome to America, (Short Story): Published in the Sristi magazine, May 2009
15.Remembering Suze (Short Story): Published in the Many Midnights magazine, May 2009, USA.
16.The Veiled Idol (Short Story): Published in the Palki magazine issue-7, June 2009.
17.Born Into A Brothel (Short Story): Published in the Muse India Literary Journal, ISSN:(0975-1815), July 2009, India.
18.The Unveiled Life (Poem): Published in The Pens on Fire magazine, July 2009.
19.Layoff (Short Story): Accepted in the Pens on Fire magazine, to be published in November 2009, USA.
20.Film Review of Chuhnyang (A Korean film review): Accepted and to be published in Silhouette magazine, November 2009, India.
21.Checkers (short Story): Accepted and to be published in The Long Story Short magazine, November 2009, USA.
22.The Relationship Adviser (Short Story): Accepted and to be published in Woman’s Era, Delhi Press, India.
23.Missed Connection (short Story): to be published in Mused — Bella Online Literary Review Magazine, 23rd September 2009, USA.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
It seems that Indian audiences have had enough of their delightful saas-sahu drama reigning their TV screen, and now they seek another exotic dish to woo their taste buds. Kudos to Rakhi Sawant, our very own controversy-queen, who took it upon herself to embark on an extraordinary visual- culinary feat to satisfy the taste buds of fussy Indian TV viewers via her ground breaking show “Rakhi ka Swayamvar”. The show is said to have annihilated with its fatal blow records that several TV shows have made till date. Rakhi managed to resuscitate a dying TV culture and created, what she can best do, a full on drama. The show seeks to help a series of young, (un) intellectual guys in their quest for the Holy Grail i.e. a connubial bond with Rakhi Sawant. The guys compete with each other to veto one another’s chance of winning Rakhi’s hand in holy matrimony and for that they take part in several outrageous, dramatic and bathetic games. At the end of an episode, a person who has been ruled out leaves the show and often gives an emotionally pathetic parting speech to show his innate romantic (or dramatic) side, while the queen of the show stands beside him soothing him with her husky voice. I was trying to watch one full episode of the show, but sadly my spirit fails and my ingenuity withers after the first fifteen minutes of the show. However, the knowledge I gained within the first fifteen minutes would surely bring me some nightmarish reverie sometime soon.
The heated music and the body language of Rakhi’s brave suitors and herself would horripilate the viewer and usher in the same kind of drama as evident in the unbearable slapping scenes of the saas-bahu altercation sequences in our favorite dinner-time sitcoms. The TRP drama that’s is going on has been a boon for Rakhi Sawant, who is finding all the media exposure that she needs, but I doubt if the same level of TRP will be swaying her personal life too. It is humorous that the sanctity of a marital bond is currently dependent on an unrealistic-reality TV show! It is being said that Rakhi has influenced (detrimentally?) the Indian women with her show, and now more and more woman crave for a swayamvar of their own. I pity the partners and the boyfriends of those women. These men may have to go through the rigmarole of formally winning the women in their life. They may have to take an agni pariksha or have to break an unbreakable bow to get their lady love. Such a practice would no doubt bring in an era of Shakespearean love heroes, but would destroy the sanctity of a logical Indian mind.
The idea that women can revive the lost mythological tradition of choosing a heroic husband sounds interesting to me; I wish I had thought about such a creative idea before I had got married. The fact that Rakhi Sawant is now on television all decked up as a bride, who has completed every matrimonial ritual and needs only a husband to take the final step, is no doubt bold. I found her argument that if “Sita” could find a “Ram” via her “Swayamvar”, why Rakhi Sawant cannot find a “Shyam” through her “Swayamvar” interesting. That’s a great logical point coming from an overtly illogical lady. But a study of the cartoonish suitors brought in my mind the idea that may be the “Shyam” that she has been looking for is dwelling in some other, possible lesser romantic world.
I seem have lost my romantic aura after being “realistically” involved in a real-life marital bond. And truly, I cannot bear the idea of Indian women resorting to a practice of swayamvar for choosing their partners. Such an act may have been relevant in an obsolete millennium, currently; in this twenty-first century such an act is stupid. The trust factor, the innate honesty and more importantly the true feeling of angelic love would be lost if women resort to such an irrelevant practice. I believe that Indian women are more commonsensical than Rakhi Sawant, and would not take her and her absurd show too seriously. However, in our modern stressful life, we do need a nonsensical program to eradicate out anxiety, and this show would be a chart topper in those cases; but viewer discretion is advised when Rakhi Sawant is concerned.