Thursday, April 22, 2010

For God’s Sake, Listen!



“Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darlin’…”


Arjun stretched comfortably on the back seat of his firm’s sedan and sang this first line of the title song from “High Noon”[1]. The driver turned with an amused look. Arjun smiled back. He felt happy and quite contented with life.

The 10-day business trip to London was a success in the company of looters [2]. And, it included a great weekend with wonderful weather for shopping and walking. As the car moved slowly from the airport to Saki Naka, he hardly looked outside while recollecting the time at Canary Wharf, on the tube, on the Embankment, to the Tate Modern, crossing over to St. Paul’s, the latest books and movies, classics too…what a life!

A slight bump with another car shook him out of his reverie. He started making plans for the rest of the day. He wanted to get back home, have a long bath, relax in his armchair, watch the new DVD of “High Noon”…and, of course, spend time with his wife Shanthi.

He saw the Chinese restaurant at Saki Naka. That is where they had gone, before his London trip, to celebrate their fourth wedding anniversary: a cosy lunch and tender loving care for dessert. The thought made him urge the driver to go faster.

Right then, he got a call from his wife. What a coincidence, he thought.

Arjun: I was just thinking about you.
Shanthi: Have you reached?
Arjun: Yes. Just passed Saki Naka. Close to that Chinese place, remember?
Shanthi: Yeah. Arjun?
Arjun: Yupp, that’s me…don’t wear it out. Sorry, old joke, huh? Feels great to be back and I’m waiting to be with you.
Shanthi: Arjun…I’ve moved out.
Arjun: What?
Shanthi: I don’t want to live with you…I mean…I want to pursue other interests.
Arjun: Interests?
Shanthi: I have to…separate…live…without you.
Arjun: Have to?
Shanthi: Damn it! Stop sounding like your Woody Allen movies, please.
Arjun: What do you want me to sound like? Rhett Butler? Frankly my dear and $#%&ing crap…
Shanthi: Stop shouting, Arjun. Will you please, for once, for God’s sake, listen?
Arjun: Don’t tell me to listen.
Shanthi: OK…
Arjun: When did you decide?
Shanthi: I shifted 10 days back.
Arjun: Wonderful…did you wait for my flight to leave?
Shanthi: Arjun! It’s not easy for me.
Arjun: So…what’s next?
Shanthi: Do you want to meet? I thought it would be best without meeting.
Arjun: See you when I see you, is it? Fine.
Shanthi: I have taken the car and the microwave.
Arjun: The home theater?
Shanthi: Thought you might need it. I have left the fridge and the washing machine, too.
Arjun: Thanks.
Shanthi: If there’s anything I have forgotten, could you drop me an email?
Arjun: Sure. A living-out relationship [3], is it?
Shanthi: Maybe…after six months or so, my lawyer could get in touch with yours. OK?
Arjun: Hmm…
Shanthi: Take care, Arjun.
Arjun: (silent)
Shanthi: Bye. Love you.
Arjun: Me too. Good luck, kid!

The car had reached his apartment and the driver waited outside with the baggage. Arjun stepped out, thanked and gave a generous tip to the driver, nodded at the security guards and took the lift to 13D.

Shanthi had remembered to cancel the milkman but not the newspaper-wallah. Arjun gathered the old newspaper and magazines lying inside on the floor. Just out of habit, he started cutting out articles which caught his eye and made quick notes on post-it. The IPL tamasha [4], the war between the Maoists [5] and the government [6]…Arjun knew what he was doing, procrastinating.

He unpacked and had a long shower. It was late evening and he felt as if the four walls were closing in on him. Claustrophobia, was it? He wanted to take a long walk. But, that’s not a great idea in suburban Mumbai. He left the flat and nearly took the lift to the basement car park before he remembered that Shanthi had taken the (their) car. He took an auto-rickshaw and gave directions to a bar-cum-restaurant he (they) liked.

Arjun took the usual table. Not sentimental, he reasoned, it’s just the best. The waiter took his order: a double portion of crispy fried chicken (dry and spicy), Shanthi’s favourite cocktail and a cigarette pack. Shanthi used to be the adventurous one while he stuck to single malt and cigarettes. Her cocktail was: iced vodka over chopped bloody-hot green chilly. As he took the first sip, he had to blink back the tears and gasp, “Fire-and-ice. Damn you girl.”[7]

It was after the waiter had placed the second glass of the same cocktail that he asked himself, “Why? What was wrong with us?”

What did she mean by “pursue other interests” - another man, career, hobbies? Arjun had no clue about what she wanted to do in life. He assumed that she was happy with her current job, to be his wife, partner, friend, philosopher, guide, $#%&-buddy, whatever. What did she want? Is it something which she couldn’t do…with him?

A normal healthy, wealthy and lucky couple we were, Arjun thought. Vacations together, enjoying books and movies together, investing together, sharing responsibility. They were a great couple, weren’t they?

Was it because of kids or rather, the lack of it? But, both had agreed to postpone that – quite indefinitely. Arjun didn’t give a damn about propagating his genes. At best, he could tolerate kids for a few hours at a stretch and that too, if they were reasonable and mature. As for Shanthi, though she did talk about her biological clock, she never seemed too keen about kids either. At least, they never fought on that issue, Arjun recollected.

Was it sex-related? But, they were “better than average” as judged by most surveys [8]. According to the same journals, by way of frequency, choice of position and place, what-not, they were supposed to be “great”. They were passionate most of the time and quite often, at the same time. Didn’t they enjoy it? He did, didn’t he, and, Shanthi? Well, they had never fought on that issue either, Arjun remembered.

Was it because of family? But, they hardly saw them.

Were there terrible fights? Well, nothing really abnormal. Like any maturing relationship, the fights were just getting meaner, louder and the stretches of post-fight silence were lengthening, but it was never really unreasonable, he reasoned. As per current fashion, they had had a few sessions with a counsellor. They discontinued when they heard that the counsellor is an alleged paedophile. Maybe, it would have helped if they had not discontinued, Arjun wondered.

And love? Arjun grimaced. For him, love was like God. When times are good, one assumes that it’s there; when times are bad, one hopes that it’s there; and at other times, who really cares[9]? He respected her, he trusted her, he cared for her, isn’t that love-or-whatever-in-action, Arjun justified.

Why?

On the TV at the bar, an advertisement for some bike suggested, “Thinking is such a waste of time.” That sure helps [10].

Arjun left the place and returned to his flat. He reclined comfortably in his armchair, watching “High Noon” and singing along,


“Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darlin’…
Wait, wait along…”


BACK TO POST [1] For details about this great movie with Gary Cooper and Grace Kelly, please visit http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0044706/. A video of this song seems to be available at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKLvKZ6nIiA&feature=related.

BACK TO POST [2] This is with reference to investment bankers and the case of fraud filed by the SEC against Goldman Sachs. Do you think financial reforms will happen? Please read Paul Krugman’s blog titled “Looters in Loafers”: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/19/opinion/19krugman.html?partner=rssnyt&emc=rss. The SEC might lose the battle but that’s not the point, is it? Michael Lewis wryly points out that GS “did nothing worse than live by the ethical assumptions of your market -- any money-making event short of obviously illegal is admirable” in http://preview.bloomberg.com/news/2010-04-22/bond-market-will-never-be-same-after-goldman-commentary-by-michael-lewis.html. GS suggests that the case is just politics. Who was it who said “The word 'politics' is derived from the word 'poly', meaning 'many', and the word 'ticks', meaning 'blood sucking parasites'.” Does that mean politics is a synonym for investment banking?

BACK TO POST [3] There seems to be a lot of debate about live-in relationships and pre-marital sex. Is it not a personal matter? The debate seems to have dragged in even Krishna and Radha. Lesser mortals (like social networking sites which require a herd mentality for survival) try to be mature and compromise, build a proper ‘network’ of contacts, lead a ‘moral’ life and balance longevity and expectations. Is it not true that idiots, heroes and Gods in every culture decide their own life – and, the masses follow?

BACK TO POST [4] Note 1: Has Shashi Tharoor stopped tweeting? Note 2: Does Tharoor represent Trivandrum? Note 3: Tharoor will at least have his ol’ common room buddies but where will Modi go? Note 4: Do you think this will lead to anything substantial? Why didn’t the government or the IT department conduct normal checks during the last three years?

BACK TO POST [5] Note 1: Is Arundathi Roy OK with Maoists using kids? Aren’t there other representatives of the tribals? Reference: Arundathi Roy’s article: http://www.outlookindia.com/article.aspx?264738

BACK TO POST [6] Note 1: The PM has asked the civil service personnel to fight Naxals with development, and he has also pointed out that such underdeveloped regions and people are easy prey for extremist organizations. Note 2: If the government had someone to talk to (say, a social worker among the tribal people), what would they say? Will they prevent large-scale relocation of poor helpless and voiceless people? How do they plan to include without imposing an alien culture? How do they plan to educate and improve the standard of living? Will they bring in industries in a phased manner? Ministers and governments will change but the plan for social reform should not change for at least two to three generations.

BACK TO POST [7] Statutory warning: cigarettes and alcohol are injurious to health and more importantly, injurious to the health of those around you. If you are in solitary confinement and ready to take care of yourself, go ahead at your own risk. Some also believe that eating chicken is also injurious to health. Of course, it is probable that you might die sooner in a traffic accident or a terrorist attack.

BACK TO POST [8] A source (though not very reliable) once revealed that journalists have a software tool to “fill out” these surveys. In the first version, the tough questions delved on the missionary and who-on-top and from then on, with each version, it was a test of the geeks’ imagination.

BACK TO POST [9] A comrade once said, “It’s just a sentimental manifestation of materialism imposed upon us by crony capitalism” or, some combination or permutation of the same. For capitalists, since multi-billion dollar industries revolve around love, “anything marketable is certainly worth it”. For others, the glorified four-letter word serves multiple purposes: (a) family love – used to be the cheapest way to have a group of people to protect property and wealth; these days, it is advisable to restrict this to one spouse and utmost two children. (b) patriotism – is there another way to recruit soldiers? (c) platonic love – if either or both are repulsive or inconvenient. (d) romantic love – it is best when the lovers, one or both, meet an early death; if Shakespeare had allowed Romeo and Juliet to live happily ever after, he would not have been the Bard but a blogger. (e) etc. Some claim that humans are the only animals capable of love. Of course, we are the only animals capable of creating nuclear weapons and synthetic CDOs, too.

BACK TO POST [10] I guess I have to apologize for experimenting with footnotes on a blog even though I agree with Noel Coward who said, "Having to read footnotes resembles having to go downstairs to answer the door while in the midst of making love." Maybe, the person at the door is a better companion than the one upstairs. I wanted to write a simple happy love story but it is tough to separate the characters and the world in which they live. What do you think?

Monday, April 12, 2010

Avatar

Once in a while, I decide to try out a new avatar. Nothing dramatic – far from that actually – merely exploring the many universes I could inhabit with a few trivial decisions. Let me give you two examples.

---xxx---

Job:

I got sick of seeing the same old faces and decided to attend a few interviews. And, I got a decent job offer. For some reason, I rejected the offer. I think I gave the excuse that I expected an indecent offer.

It could not have been the numbers that mattered. I started my professional career with a paycheck of USD 60 (I repeat, monthly paycheck) but, I joined that institution based on an irrational good feeling which turned out to be right.

I did not get a good feeling at this new place.
• Maybe, it was because I heard the Big Boss use the four-letter word with a very junior employee. (Trust me, I am not puritanical but I believe in a fair fight.)
• Or maybe, I did not like the restrooms. (I do not know why they decided to have thin walls in the restroom and the Big Boss’ office.)
• Or possibly, the HR person resembled my real-estate broker. (I am being unfair to my real-estate broker but for some strange reason, all the HR people I have known resemble my real-estate broker – all except one, but she left HR to become a real-estate broker.)

Moral of the story :

Good feelings? (Use the four-letter word.) To accept good offers, forget good feelings.

Matrimony:

I joined one of the many online matrimonial sites. To those virgins who have never frequented these online adult websites, let me say that the good ones cater to a wide variety of fetishism in men and women: single, in the process of being single, divorced, without issue, with issue but without liability, normal, disabled, etc.

I curbed my inclination to be verbose and along with the mandatory inputs such as age, sex, misleading vital statistics (athletic, average, slim, etc.), entered my succinct proposal: “Looking for a trustworthy companion.”

It started off well. I was informed, “Congrats! So-and-so has expressed interest in you.”

The interested person turned out to be:

Caring, stable, upper middle class, well-employed, preference for partners working in European countries, innocent divorce following marriage three years back which lasted few weeks, with loving six-year old child not living together.”

Since I consider an “innocent” divorce to be fictitious, I declined interest.

Then, the virus/bug/glitch occurred when I started expressing interest in suitable characters. Strangely, in all cases, my interest was being declined before I expressed it.

I contacted the administrator of the site. I received a quick (discomforting though succinct) reply: “Time-zone problem.”

I have not figured out the “time-zone” problem. One of my nasty friends offered the explanation, “Probably, you have been blocked – trustworthy people do not look for trustworthy companions.”

Moral of the story :

For company, do not look for fictitious characters. (Use the four-letter word again.)

---xxx---

That could have been the new avatar. With a few trivial decisions, one of my many lives disappeared in a space-time worm-hole. Picture me with a companion, working somewhere in Europe, earning plenty and whispering sweet loving four-letter words to my boss.

(n.b. Any resemblance to fiction is purely coincidental.)

Friday, April 9, 2010

Suicide


When Sylvia wrote
I-have-done-it-again,
You and I ooh-aah-ed;
Of what use is that
To dust six feet under?



In the good well he was found,
And his kid still quite fresh
Hanging from the new fan,
So was it with Sita and Sati,
Honour, despair, fine words.



Cowards, idiots at least;
With bulging eyes, bloated
Carcass, shit-smeared,
Not even a pretty sight,
Exiting with no encore.



Let’s be fair.
How long
Will I care
When you’re use-
Less, dead or alive?



But, you’ve nothing to kill,
By my hand or yours;
On a strange silent path,
Poor, alone and dreaming,
Hardly a page three dreary.



With a fine company of ghosts,
Madmen not so street-smart,
Worthless dead in worthy wars,
Faceless, voiceless, lifeless,
You live a suicide every day.