FATHER OF THE NATION???

Talk about India's struggle for independence, and one of the many names that comes to our mind is Mahatma Gandhi. Think of him, and you'll end up thinking of 'satyagraha' by default. That excessively hyped and somewhat inefficient freedom movement which is synonymous with Gandhi, has been applauded in India and abroad alike. But I suppose it was applauded more by the British officials of that era, because they realized the futility of it long before any of us were able to comprehend the absurdity of it. Sure it was a unique idea, and to be fair, it did have some impact on our freedom movement. But it should have been used strictly as a temporary technique. We should have resorted to violence way back. After all, we did call it our 'fight' for freedom, didn't we?

I'm far from being a Gandhi fan. Infact, I've always been skeptical about his relevance in our independence, and this statement has never failed to raise an eyebrow. But then India is a democratic country and I'm making legitimate use of my freedom of speech here. I've always thought that Gandhi was way too saintly to be a freedom-fighter. Either that, or he was one hell of a shrewd politician. The kind of calm that he portrayed has always surprised me. And Gandhi might be doing a gigantic somersault in his grave right now, but there are certain things which can only be done with a vengence, with violence.

I'm aware that Gandhi had his own set of ideas, and his own idea of idealism. But somehow, his fundas have never appealed to me. He made too big a deal of violence. And in the bargain, he failed to see what strategy would truly be in the best interest of the nation. Instead, he put his own set of rigid principles above everything else and led the nation through a tedious and languid freedom struggle. True, his principles were noble, perhaps even exemplary. But honestly, it was not the need of the hour. And if satyagraha were indeed the way to win freedom, wonder what inspires our soldiers to fight so gallantly. Actually, I wonder what our soldiers would opine of satyagraha as the way to bring about a major reform. And back then, we were talking of the most significant reform in our political history.

With all due respect to Gandhi, the fact that satyagraha managed to become such a popular freedom movement had more to do with Gandhi's brainwashing speeches and ardent fan-following, than with a significant effect from the movement itself. Like I said before, the man was too virtuous to be a freedom fighter in the real sense of the term. He had a knack of opposing every suggested freedom strategy on the pretext of violence. And when he chose to be manipulative, he would simply go on a hunger strike. Despite the fact that he was a hardcore follower of non-violence, Gandhi did have a striking resemblance with the infamous dictator of Germany. Hitler passionately killed people, while Gandhi killed the peoples' passion. Paradoxical as it may sound, non-violence did cause some serious damage here. I just feel that our posterity should have been instructed on non-violence and idealism 'after' we had achieved our independence.

One of Gandhi's most controversial action was the withdrawal of the NonCo-operation movement following the Chauri-Chaura incident. His philosophy, once again was morally correct. But he was not justified in overriding the sentiments and the unanimous opinion of a vast majority owing to the 'crime of passion' commited by a handful of people. He ardently stood by his principles, but unfortunately failed to see the larger picture once again. And he wasn't exactly subtle when he declared to the masses that the freedom movement ought to be strictly in compliance with his principles, or he would abandon it. Which is precisely what he did in this case.

Gandhi undoubtedly, had a major impact on our freedom struggle. And having the kind of charisma and influence that he did on the masses, I feel he had an obligation to carry out the freedom struggle with greater responsibility and more foresight. For instance, a tad more flexibility on his part would have gone a long way in avoiding the major rift between the Moderates and the Extremists. Little did Gandhi realize that he actually ended up aiding the British policy of 'divide and rule'. Or perhaps a little more thought by him on the technique of satyagraha would have definitely avoided its backfire that we currently face in the form of transport strikes, hunger strikes in factories and so on.

Whats really grating is that Gandhi was so obssessed about non-violence and tolerance, that he urged the people to go on hunger strikes, wherein a good many of them succumbed, including some prominent ones. What is the logic in starving oneself to death when you might as well eat the food, gain the energy, and plan some other meaningful strategy? And whats unnerving is that given the gravity of the situation, Gandhi continued to believe that the way to achieve independence was to sit calmly on the roads with a handful of posters, some whacky slogans, and an open invitation for lathi charge. He vehemently opposed the rebellious strategies of the extremists, which were infact the dire need of the moment. And despite his resistance at taking any drastic measures against the British officials, he gave the supremely conflicting slogan 'do or die'.

Personally, I feel that the tactics of the extremists were far more savvy to deal with the situation that we had at hand. Satyagraha was decidedly not helping. What leaders like Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose did by forming the Indian National Army was what was actually needed. The Swarajya movement by Dadabhai Navroji and the Home Rule movement by Tilak proved to be extremely efficient, as did the activities of the trio extremists Lal, Bal, Pal. The assassinaion of Saunders by Bhagat Singh, Rajguru and Sukhdev, the subsequent bombing of the Central Assembly by Bhagat Singh and Batukeshwar Dutt, the raid on the Chittaging armoury by Surya Sen and the formation of the Indian Republic Army by him are some of the very commendable and influential activities that took place in that era. Interestingly, all these activities were not just opposed, but condemned by Gandhi. And it was the hanging of these very freedom fighters by the British officials that led to a large scale revolt and agitation among the masses. Clearly, the masses did not fail to see what Gandhi did.

Whats really regrettable is that even after all these years post independence, we continue to glorify one man as the 'father of the nation', thereby grossly undermining the significant contribution of the other freedom fighters. Sure, satyagraha makes a good topic for a hot debate, and sure, it makes great material for our history texts. But 'ahinsa' should be confined strictly to our ashrams. To expect that we can can overthrow over a 100 years of colonisation by being eccentric about following non-violence and portraying our exemplary tolerance levels is daft, to put it mildly. If you dare to become a freedom 'fighter', that is exactly what you're expected to do - fight. And theres bound to be bloodshed there. Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose hit the nail on the head when he said the historic words, "Tum mujhe khoon do, main tumhe aazadi dunga."

MIND OVER MAKE-UP

The glossy cover-page of a popular fashion magazine read in bold letters 'white invisible foundation and concealer'. For added effect, the close-up of a ravishing model with inescapably 'visible' make-up adorned the page. I looked at the woman reading the magazine. She was engrossed in it, leafing through it painfully slowly. And she was so caked up that the word that came to my mind upon seeing her was 'abuse' i.e. make-up abuse.

What struck me about the ad was that they were propagating the product claiming it would be easily camouflaged. The keyword was 'invisible'. Why advertise a fashion product with the catch-line suggesting that it was too subtle to be noticed - almost to the point of being imperceptible? Thats a crafty way of suggesting that women need to keep their vanity secrets strictly under wraps. And its cleverly aimed to hit at atleast two of the many facets of a woman; one - she is too self-conscious to go without make-up, and second - she is too proud to admit that she uses make-up. I suppose a woman's caprices do add to her charm. But take that with a pinch of salt.

To be candid, I've always looked at fashion magazines and make-up kits with disparage. I find it deplorable that in contemporary society, glamour is unduly over-rated and simplicity under-stated. Most fashion magazines are stressing on the inane age factor, giving tips about how to capture beauty and how to increase our sex appeal, thereby deviously suggesting that we are grossly lacking both. Whats interesting is that they always omit the part which mentions what potential harm the crappy chemicals in their products could do, or how addictive it could possibly get, or how it alters a woman's persona and leaves her susceptible to self-doubts. My opinion - they should be charged for recklessly advertising such trash.

I've never been the fashion conscious or glamour oriented types. I have neither the interest, nor the inclination for such triviality. I'm satisfied with my modest looks, and apart from the usual waxing and threading (so that I don't end up looking Neanderthal), there is little else I bother with. On occasions when I wanna pamper myself or experiment a bit, I do indulge in a touch of kajal or eye-liner. Max a dab of gloss. Thats as far as it goes. I'm not obssesive about being caked up 24 X 7. And I don't shriek at the thought of being seen without make-up at an event. I know I'm nowhere near being picture perfect. But I also know that my minor skin flaws do not make me look hideous, neither do they warrant the need for excessive make-up. I'm comfortable in my own skin and I'm confident about being me. I'll bet that no fashion magazine or glamour guru could have taught me that, nor can they change that about me. For me, looking good isn't half as important as carrying yourself well. If you've ever seen a decked up woman strutting around with a self-conscious and awkward body language, you'll know exactly what I mean. I believe its not whats on the outside that matters, its whats on the inside that counts. Its called confidence.

I'm not exactly averse to fashion and glamour, but for some reason I just can't adapt to them. I like being me. And by me, I mean simple and casual. I detest being a painted doll. Ofcourse I like to deck up for parties and outings. But for me, dressing up isn't synonymous with going on a painting spree! I may be a mediocre artist, but I sure know how to distinguish between make-up and face painting! Besides I prefer dressing up commensurate with the occasion. I'm not crazy enough to go to the cinema decked up like I'm attending a marriage on one of Ekta Kapoor's sets! Thankfully, I'm free of the much hyped peer pressure or paranoia affecting teens and adults alike.

I can't comprehend why any person in their right mind would want to smudge themselves with layers of make-up in an attempt to 'look good'. Wonder why the 'look good' factor is suddenly the be all and end all of our existence. The 'feel good' factor has arguably lost all significance. The main problem here is fanatic-lunatic advertising which leaves too many level-headed women vying for a stereotyped look. Ingenuty doesn't exist, and individuality is already a lost concept. We try too hard to fit in with the crowd, when we are originally designed to stand out.

Our glam industry is relentlessly coming up with newer and more bizzare products to make us look virtually celestial. Our sinfully gorgeous celebrities spike the cosmetic sales by inadvertently signing up as their brand ambassadors. The fashion magazines are screaming about beauty being skin deep, and even our better qualified dermatologists are zealously backing them up. Sadly, the commom man has been programmed to judge solely by appearances, and the good old saying about looks being deceptive has long since been tossed out of the window. The word 'beauty' itself is cliched. It no longer lies in the eyes of the beholder. It is simply belied by the artistic skills of the said object of observation

On a more considerate [and less realistic] note, may be glamour isn't all about being superficial. May be glam dolls don't shed their confidence at the end of the day when they shed their pancakes of make-up. It may just be that all these beauty magazines hitting the stands actually boost a woman's confidence. And may be, just may be that innately beautiful women never feel envious, or never try to immitate all the artificial, unearthly beauty portrayed in these sub-standard magazines.

I guess the concepts of fashion and glamour are either paranormal or esoteric. Many women are slave to them, but instead claim to master them. These are the prima donnas and femme fatales of our society. They make much revered style statements and pass flawless fashion judgements. But the real trend-setters are the nonconformists who are gutsy enough to go without glamour and risk being tagged 'plain janes'. These are the ones who are truly oozing with a rare confidence. They may not be beautiful in the conventional sense, but they are bold enough to ascertain and assert their feminity. The unabashed woman of substance CARES NOT, to be called a diva. for she DARES, not to be one. Way to go Woman!

A MEMORIAL SERVICE

It was early noon on an unusual February day. Unusual, because it was exceptionally pleasant for winter in Russia. Pleased with myself for leaving the hospital early, I leisurely walked back the short distance to my hostel, and couldn't help smiling at the pale winter sunshine. It wasn't long before spring would be here and the campus always looked lovely at that time of the year. As I approached my hostel, I saw a huge gathering just outside the university entrance. Curious, I walked up to see what was going on. After a few minutes of debate and confusion amongst the students, one of our senior professors solemnly informed us that the head of our pediatric department had passed away. It was then that I realized I was in fact standing in her impromptu memorial service.

Looking around, I spotted my rommie, who also happened to take a detour on her way to the hostel. Before long, the rector was speaking in memory of the deceased, but being at the outer end of the crowd meant that his passionate speech was almost inaudible to me. Not quite knowing what to do next, I just stood there and scanned the crowd. Everybody wore a grave look, but their body language gave them away. Tapping their feet rhythmically, they conveyed their boredom unawares.

I turned to look at my roomie and was surprised to find her looking back at me. She shot me an inquiring glance, suggesting subtly that perhaps we could leave. Somehow, I could not leave. I guess most of the students gathered wanted to leave, but all stood rooted to their spots. And the only thing that stopped us from leaving was our own inertia. It was just a question of who dared to leave first. The rest of us would invariably judge him and eventually follow suit. So was I afraid of being judged, or was I infact afraid of leading the crowd? Interesting conflict.

Perplexed as I often am by my thoughts, I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, and finally went and stood next to my roomie. Neither of us said anything, and I picked up my trail of thoughts where it had last stopped. It must be something to do with the 'respect for the dead', I feebly told myself. But I wasn't convinced. Mildly irritated with myself, I continued to scan the crowd.

My irritation probably stemmed from the fact that I knew I was paying an ingenuine tribute. Just like everybody else. Our evolved species is always so immersed in pretending to be who we are not, that we don't really know who we are anymore. We consciously seek out our pretences and subconsciously master them till we've inhibited all our natural responses. We've sort of twisted Socrates' words - 'Be as you wish to Seem'

Why this obsessive-compulsive need to pretend? Why do we try so vehemently to portray ourselves as we are not, and simultaneously deny the counterfeit? Why do we stubbornly refuse to be ourselves? What are we so afraid of? Being judged? Being different? Being less acceptable in society?

The shrill sound of a distant siren reverted me to the memorial. What on earth was I doing there? Why was I continuing to engage myself in a self-deceptive act despite my deductions? And what right did I have to condemn those present when I wasn't any different from them? I stood there mindlessly like everybody else - too pretentious to walk away, and too proud to admit it.

Almost involuntarily, I tapped my roomie lightly on her shoulder and suggested that we leave. Her brows knitted together momentarily, but she nodded in approval. We left the memorial amongst indiscreet whispers and a few derisive stares. But I couldn't have cared less. There was a thin line between being compassionate and pretending to be compassionate. If anything, I knew I was on the right side of the line. As we walked back together, each lost in our own thoughts, I tried to figure out why did the memorial stir me so? Was it because of my obvious lack of compassion at another's loss? Or the practiced lack of a genuine response?

I finally reached my hostel - rich with an experience I'm yet to decipher, but not without the minutest streak of dejection. Something vague made me feel uneasy, almost guilty. I went around doing the mundane chores mechanically, while still pondering over the memorial and feeling delinquent. I had succeeded in being honest, but what about being humane? Didn't that count as well? I guess there's good reason we're never meant to witness our own memorial. Sometimes, ignorance IS bliss.

APPRECIATION

A brilliant mind once said that if you want to be remembered even after you're gone,do something worth writing or write something worth reading. And he knew exactly what he was talking about. As I ponder over this, Im surprised to realize that it all boils down to the one basic and much understated human need - appreciation. Whether we are baking a cake for our kids or trying out new recepies for our hubby, treating our friends to their fav restaurant, or meticulously tending to our garden, or simply writing annonymous blogs on abstract ideas, its the appreciation that we are really looking for, or rather asking for.

Most of the times we tend to consciously fool ourselves that the recepients' response is immaterial to us, although on rare occasions we are genuinely unaware of how eagerly we await their response. I guess that our denial of the need for appreciation is based on the subconcsious fear of rejection or the guilt of having an ulterior motive. Lets just say that doing something solely for the joy of doing it is something only the saints and sages can boast of. The rest of us mortals had better accept the fact that we are devoid of this virtue. We crave for a dose of appreciation way more than we would like to believe. Imagine a young lover who gifts his lady a lovely flower, but is met by a cool indifference. Any guesses what happens the next time said lover has an opportunity to present a gift? By my reckoning, there simply wont be a next time. Its vaguely on the lines of Newton's 3rd law. Every well-meant and selfless act of ours needs to be met with heartfelt appreciation. Think about it- our joy stems not just from the act itself, but from the acknowlegement of that act, from the appreciation of the effort. Ironic as it may seem, self-satisfaction is too intricately woven with appreciation.

Writers are no different. It doesnt matter whether they are amateurs or professionals. They write because they have the urge,the skill and ofcourse, the will to write. A sporadic writer friend of mine [thats the way he likes to call himself] once said to me that he writes only for himself, solely for the sake of writing. But at the same time he bears in mind that it has to be something that the reader can relate to. I like his funda, although im not entirely convinced by him. What beats me is that if we are indeed writing only for ourselves,why are we not satisfied by merely writing a personal diary? Why do we publish books or put up blogs? Why do we care to read the readers' comments? Why is the critics' approval our ultimate pride? What is it that truly motivates us, moves us? Sure, its the power of the pen that compels us. But deep down, its the promise of appreciation that propels us. Honestly speaking, none of us nurtures a magnanimous desire to write regardless of the feedback. Believe it or not, its our passion to be noticed even as amateurs, an ambition to achieve excellence and win appreciation, or perhaps its just our humble desire to be appreciated even if we do not excel.

Secrets....

Face to face,but miles away
So much to speak,but unable to say.

Distant memories in the sands of time forever lost,
Like the ground hidden beneath the winter frost.

Bit by bit the story shall unfold,
But secrets of this heart still remain untold.