I Act. I Don't Know.

My tears are made of glycerine
My sweat is bisleri water
My smiles are plastic flowers
I bleed but tomato sauce
My stress lines are drawn with liner
Even earth isn't fit for my face
So chocolate sauce plays mud

I am a fine actor
Who does coarse acting
I act doctor, scientist, trader, corporate
Sometimes a soldier too
I don olive green, sky blue and milky white
And evoke patriotism
With my vicarious valour

It is a different matter
That I don't know anything
About the heat of blood
And the sound it makes
The painful pain it causes
When it actually gushes out
Of bullet drilled hole on flesh and skin...
I don't know anything about
The bite of minus forty degrees
The rocking effect of Sea state ten
The sleeplessness in three-in-one watches

I do all types of acting
What if I don't know actions!
Let soldiers worry about the borders
I will make merry on the stage
I am Khan
And I am not a terrorist
Or black buck killer
Or an absconder

Juggernaut

Review : One Indian Girl

Book Review : One Indian Girl

I doubted that grooming of children suffers in homes where both parents work. The doubt however remains. I believed women who don't 'work' (paid work) are no lesser then who do. The belief still remains. But my hope that women get every right to do whatever they want to - work, wed, whatever - has been reinforced. My wish that men - father, husband, whoever - don't get to decide what a woman should do or not, has been revived. Thanks to 'One Indian Girl.

The journey of Radhika has no epiphanic eureka. It has euphoria. It has hits and misses. It has stumbling and soaring stories. It has delight and despair of a girl who, though rock solid "in work", vacillates on what is the best course of action "in life". Nevertheless she at all junctures is able to muster and carry the conviction to follow her instincts, wild or wise. Her ups and downs in New York, Hong Kong, London and Goa don't make her a hero or a martyr, but she is a survivor as she is able to decide and account for the going-ons in her life.

The book reaffirms what a spot-on story teller is Mr Bhagat. Personally, my creative english gets new shape and depth. And my languishing views and values get a further lease of life.

Excerpts from the Book.

"Why don't they call white-skinned people rice-ish?" (nice ironical extrapolation of 'wheatish')

"Especially for someone like you" (Someone who is not fair and lovely, coy like cow, thus stereotyping women as either qualifying or not as bride or wife material)

"... Mom wanted a sunflower in the lobby when the Gulatis arrived" (objectified as an attractive prize money)

"this inner mini-me... " (a fresh new phrase for conscience)

"With their significant others" (a fresh change from 'better half')

"You are this simple Indian girl. You need to love and be loved." (setting patriarchal standards for her)

"Then I cried. And cried. Till my eyes were as empty as Debu's cupboard." (powerful analogy with a cupboard vacated by the ex-lover)

"... Stared at the bed room ceiling or watched American TV infomercials about slimming products promising eternal fitness and happiness." (poignant replay of distressed and desperate state of mind)

"Why can't women get a wife?" (yes, why not?

"You work hard. That's when luck creeps up on you." (it's hard work, more than anything else, that pays at the end)

"Cold menthol balm on my bruised, wounded heart" (powerful imagery)

"The girl who moved continents but can't move on" (apt play of words)

"It was not the dance (I minded). But the thoughts that danced in the mind." (excellent juxtaposition of dancing mind and body)

"Fresh white lilies and deep red roses" (evocative)

"... My dark life rather than my dark circles" (poignant analogy)

"The girl throws a party for her guy's promotion but the guy can't handle the girl's bonus" (sharp contrast between reaction to 'his' promotion and 'her' increment)

"Fly, as long as you fly beneath me." (patronising patriarchy).

"We want to fly and also want a beautiful nest" (the simple ambition of a simple girl)

Indian Women's Anti-Safety Manual

Indian Women's So-called Safety Manual

# If a woman goes alone with a man to a place, he has the license to take her for granted.

# If a woman talks frankly with a man, smiles at him, touches him, he can take her normal, friendly behaviour as hint.

# The time at which a girl returns home decides her character. The later, the lower.

# If a girl stays alone, chances are high she is soliciting. Therefore she should always return to the safety of man - father, husband - and not try to be independent.

# If a woman makes a drink for a man, she is promiscuous

# If a woman reciprocates a man's non-veg joke with another one, she is portraying herself as a woman of questionable character.

# "Nahi" me "magar" ki gunjais nahi hoti. (there is no scope for 'but' in 'not'). But if neighbours (men, women) see men enter the house of independent women then they can infer that the women can be taken liberty with , even if the distinguished neighbours haven't seen them in the act of bedding. (How can they peep? Respectable people don't peep into houses, after all. It is completely respectable that they can draw conclusions on women's character without any evidence, just on assumption).

# Liquor is a veritable indicator of low standard for women. They are the preserve of men only. Poor man gets provoked though when he is drunk. Or she. Possessing mobile phone, being educated, being independent, drinking, smiling, dressing inappropriately are parameters by which women run the risk of endangering themselves as potential preys of sexual perversion.

# Venue can decide how the behaviour of woman can be construed. In a temple or a library there is little scope for hints. But a party is not so chemically inert place.

# If a woman says no, it is not enough. The man can say it (like Talaaq). He can stop anytime (if finished, or not in the mood). Woman should simply be obsequious. Otherwise she should become decent. Remain safe. Get herself in the custody of a man not in the mood.

# Even a prostitute cannot stop midway. She cannot halt the irreversible business. After all, she has been paid. Of course, a man can say no to his boss. He can object. He can quit.

# English discourse and western dress haven't made our country any less feudal than it has been for ages. So when a woman goes for drinks and dinner with men assuming it as her choice she actually goes as a signboard called 'available'.

# Achhe ghar ki ladkiyan drinks nahi karti, parties me nahi jaati (except family get togethers), ladkon se nahi milti. Thoda padh-poodh leti hai. Then wed. Cook. Serve. Wash. Dry. Dust. Bed. Breed. Raise children. Raise the scion. The son. The star. The hope.

# 'No' is a sentence in itself. But it is too petite. Frail. Feeble. Sick. Handicap. Especially when the grand sceptre of masculinity is awake, aroused, is in mission mode.

# Woman, after all, is nothing unless 'wo' is prefixed to 'man'. The society, it's laws, it's books, it's culture, it's religion, it's rulers, it's gods - all are created by men. So, why should women be surprised if life and society are so conveniently tailor-made for men?

Courtesy : Pink Movie