On feelings and acting
Those who think they have a drinking problem are often the ones who have a living problem too. The fact that both these incidences have something to do with liver makes a beautiful confluence. If a person can find mirth in stuff that doesn’t inebriate him, isn’t he lucky? Similarly, if a person finds the purpose of his breathing within the confines of a glass bottle, isn’t he poetic? I am a teetotaler but I (try to) understand people who can’t do without a drink; their social mobility is defined by the amount of liquor inside their system. In my view, as long as a person isn’t harming anyone else except himself, he’s perfectly fine. Yes, I am ignoring the repercussions of emotional pangs one can inflict on their loved ones indirectly. Got nothing but respect for the wobbling drunkard on the side of the road — who will end up inside a manhole before sunrise — than somebody who gets drunk and crashes his car into a family of four.
Speaking of the distinction between responsibility and irresponsibility, one way to look at ‘dependent’ individuals is they are desperately looking for excuses to be alive. If it was very easy to kill oneself, they would have done it. Turns out life is a burdensome gift. You can’t always check out as and when you please. Chances are these so-called problematic people keep harming themselves with the sole intention of not harming others. We, the better ones, might look at their depravity and react with a strong stench of pity or disgust. However, a fairer response would be to accept them in the same manner they have accepted their situations. Expecting them to walk the distance while you remain unwilling to step up would be counter-productive. I’ve met quite a few drunkards and my understanding is based on their relationship with time. Eventually, they start drinking early so that the day ends early. They drink too much because they have too little left of everything else.
I haven’t watched a movie/documentary/series/etc. in two weeks now. My driest run in a really long time. The decision was deliberate: it was time to spend time on other pursuits. No, not just quizzing. Other stuff as well. Just sitting on the balcony staring at the green outside. Or just walking on the terrace under the crepuscular sky. Or could very well be calling up friends who don’t ever expect a call from me. But this master move has nothing to do with my sudden lack of interest in cinema. That isn’t the case. Consider it a healthy break. To paraphrase Gwyneth Paltrow, let’s call it unconscious decoupling.
Amitabh Bachchan might come across as an avuncular buffoon on Twitter but that’s not the whole picture. He possesses one of the sharpest minds in the industry; at least amongst the actors who achieved legendary status. When his father, the acclaimed poet, passed away, he later said something about the funeral that has stayed with me: he mused whether his sorrow was an act too; were his tears real? Such intriguing thoughts don’t come from screen wannabes. It requires a certain level of maturity for somebody to think on these lines during some of the harshest phases of life. We spend a major territory of our existence pretending to be this and that, not because we can’t do without the facade but because that’s the most convenient way to get through.
Whenever there is a list of greatest actors in the world, it’s always disappointing to notice the dearth of small screen actors. For some reason, if an actor is working for television, they aren’t worth the same pedestal as somebody who works in a multi-million dollar movie. In fact, come to think of it, television is a much longer commitment to a role than a film role. But then, this very upmark works against the TV actors because they are easily dismissed as monotonous. I don’t know about other actors but Michael Richards, Rainn Wilson and Julia Louis-Dreyfus deserve natural promotion into any acting greats list for their work as Cosmo Kramer (Seinfeld), Dwight Schrute (The Office) and Selina Meyer (Veep). It’s impossible to imagine anybody else going ultra-physical to portray these unpredictable characters. There are actors who are willing to shed sweat and blood for the big screen but these three actors are willing to drag themselves through the mud. Can’t beat that.
Have you ever lost something dear? Doesn’t have to be a person or a pet. Could be a possession of great value (to you) as well. Like a pendant you received from your grandma or a watch your dad gifted you on your 15th birthday. Now, imagine losing it by mistake, with no hope whatsoever of retrieving it. Imagine the frustration and grief you’d feel. Sad, no? Now, imagine somebody finding it and returning to you safely. Imagine the relief you’d feel. Miraculous, no? I keep thinking about loss — the concept, not the event — and what it means to different individuals. The problem is nobody wants to lose, particularly something very dear. Which is contradictory because without loss, we don’t stand a chance to experience the joy of receiving it again. Could be a person or a pet as well.
In theory, equality is a wonderful, wonderful notion. In practice, things ruffle up a bit. For centuries and centuries, even before Hammurabi came up with his code, inequality has ruled supreme. Our mere presence, you and I, and where we are right now, for better or worse, is a proof that equality wasn’t a function of our outcome. Somebody else always deserved it more than we did but somehow, through sheer stroke of luck perhaps, we ended up where we are today. And if you are reading this, chances are you landed on the greener side of privilege. So, like I said, equality is a splendid theory but inequality is a marvelous practice. Blame it on the spirit of competition but everybody wants a bit more than others. And the only way we can reverse this wheel — or at least try to reverse — is by accepting our fortune as openly as possible. It must reach to such an embarrassing extent that we are left with no choice but actually do something to ensure equality in a given ecosystem.
Almost eight months of 2020 are about to end and I am nowhere close to the goals I set out in January. One persistent target was to achieve some lingual fluidity, be it in Kannada, Urdu or Sanskrit. Long story short, zero progress. That said, I do scribble stuff that never achieve completion.
To give you a sample:
Mere saare khwaab poore ho chuke hai,
Ab kisi baat ka gham nahi,
Poori zindagi hosh mein reh kar bhi –
Bohot hai, thoda kam sahi.
Badi baatein sirf baaton mein achhi lagti hai,
Waqt lagta hai chhoti soch ko badi hone mein.
Shayad galti raay se peedit generation ki hai –
Jis ka din aur raat nikalta hai rone mein.
Kuch naya jaan lo, theek se naha lo,
Saare dukh-dard dhul jaane chahiye.
Gutter mein machliya beizzati jaisi nahi dikhti –
Kitni bhi ho jaaye, aadat hi nahi lagti.
Sorry for dropping the level of poetry here. Mazrat karna.
Let’s say you wake up tomorrow with newfound feelings for a cause or a person or an activity. What would be your immediate concern? If you are worried about the other party instead of yourself, then you are already fucked. The cutest thing about feelings is we tend to believe that we have them for others when in reality, we develop them over time. It can’t happen tomorrow morning just like it couldn’t happen five years ago. It requires honest effort at your end. What occupies your mind also tells you who you are as a person. And that’s how our species evolve and progress from one stage to another. Your feelings are nothing to be ashamed of. They are there to remind you where you are going with yourself.
Every decade brings with it surprises of untold proportions. One decade, we are getting used to the dial-up connection for internet and fast forwarding SMS jokes to friends, and the next decade, we are using hi-speed WiFi not remembering the last time we sent somebody an SMS. That’s the power of technology. On the leaner side, every new decade brings with it the excitement about the next installation of Before series. You don’t have to call yourself a romantic but you ought to watch this series if you wish to call yourself a lover of cinema. Yes, I am talking about Before Sunrise (1995), Before Sunset (2004) and Before Midnight (2013). Ideally, the next movie should be released in 2022, right?
I may not be keeping up with lingual goals but my interest in Tulu deepens with time. You can’t help but be fascinated by this esteemed (but declining) member of the Pancha-Dravida language family. Well, some vocabulary is so darn on point that you can’t help but feel happy to be aware of it. Take for instance, the Tulu word for poor is badaver, which comes from badaav, the local word for hunger. So, technically, poor is somebody who is hungry. That’s it. Empathy level can’t touch higher than this notch.
