Columnist Jug Suraiya for the Times of India calls for a change of the Indian National Bird from a beautiful Peacock to the smaller statured Chicken. Why? Simple. He describes the current Indian political attitude as 'chicken hearted' and cites the Taslima Nasreen incident and Tibetan protests as evidence.
Although I read quite a bit about the events in Tibet, I did not hear about Taslima Nasreen until his article. For those who don't know, here is a little bit of background from Jug's article:
"Forced into exile from her native Bangladesh by religious fanatics who didn't like her feminist writings, Taslima sought sanctuary in Kolkata in whose Bangla milieu she felt creatively comfortable. However, after street riots instigated by local goons disguised as religious zealots caused the Marxist state government to decide that minority-appeasing discretion was the better part of secular valour, the writer was bundled out of the city and taken first to an undisclosed hideaway in Rajasthan and later to Delhi, where she was kept in virtual isolation."
The Indian political response, after bundling the author out of Kolkata and isolating her?
"Made to apologise for her 'anti-Islamic' views, she was warned by no less than the information and broadcasting minister - supposedly the custodian of the fundamental right to freedom of expression as spelt out in the Constitution - that she should not say or do anything that might hurt the religious sensibilities of any group."
Finally, Taslima left India for sanctuary in Europe/North American. Jug's article states that she is Scandinavia, but in a brief interview with TOI before her connecting flight out of London, Taslima comments about her stay in India and the proposed sanctuary location:
""If I disclose my destination my security will be compromised. My face has now become recognisable and I could be target of religious fundamentalist", Taslima said, adding that she will not hesitate to discuss what she said the traumatic experience she allegedly went through during various international seminars lined up in Europe in the next few months. "I was put under tremendous stress but I could not speak out as I was under their (government) surveillance and could be harassed by them," she said in a choked voice. "The government is no better than religious fundamentalists," she said."
A rather sad state of affair, don't you think?
Sadder still is the Indian response about the protests in Tibet. I love Jug's sarcastic comments...
"In the case of the Chinese crackdown in Tibet, India's official response has been so politically correct, not to mention politically chicken, that it has earned praise from no less than the Chinese premier, Wen Jiabao (who might have made special mention of the Indian Left whose non-response might be summed up as 'Tibet who?'). Despite China's continuing claims on Arunachal, and despite its proven nuclear proliferation to Pakistan, New Delhi walks on eggshells where Tibet is concerned and seems vaguely embarrassed by the Dalai Lama's presence on Indian soil. Why? Because then, maybe, China will support India's admission to the UN Security Council. Or at least stop using Pakistan as a foil against us. Or sell us cheap pichkaris for Holi. Or something."
Well said...and oh yes, we should tie in the chicken to these stories right? Here is the grand finale to end this sad story..
"Can't move mountains? Find convenient molehills, turn them into mountains, and then move them. That seems to be the recipe. Not just for the health minister but for the entire sorry mess which might aptly be called Indian chicken curry."
Friday, March 21, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
Love letters..the art and the emotional stories...
It's March 14th today and a very uneventful day, except the fact that it's a Friday, and I'm glad my weekend's finally here. The feeling lasted only until I read these two excerpts...They reminded me that it's a month since Feb 14th, that all important sugary day which slithered by so quietly this year..We either overdo the importance of Valentine's day or we ignore it..These two articles travel beyond those simplistic reactions to something deeper.
The first one is a love letter by the French philosopher Andre Gorz to his terminally ill wife before their joint suicide in September 2007. Here are the excerpts I fell in love with...
I was amazed that my leaving the journal, after 20 years of collaboration, was neither painful to myself nor to others. I remember having written that, at the end of the day, only one thing was essential to me: to be with you. I can’t imagine continuing to write, if you no longer are. You are the essential without which all the rest, no matter how important it seems to me when you are there, loses its meaning and its importance. I told you that in the dedication of my last work.
You’ve just turned 82. You are still beautiful, graceful and desirable. We’ve lived together now for 58 years and I love you more than ever. Lately I’ve fallen in love with you all over again and I once more carry inside me a gnawing emptiness that can only be filled by your body snuggled up against mine.
At night I sometimes see the figure of a man, on an empty road in a deserted landscape, walking behind a hearse. I am that man. It’s you the hearse is carrying away. I don’t want to be there for your cremation; I don’t want to be given an urn with your ashes in it. I hear the voice of Kathleen Ferrier singing, ‘Die Welt ist leer, Ich will nicht leben mehr’ and I wake up. I check your breathing, my hand brushes over you.
Each of us would like not to survive the other’s death. We’ve often said to ourselves that if, by some miracle, we were to have a second life, we’d like to spend it together."
....excerpt ends.
The emotion behind this letter is strong, so strong we are left to wonder if it's true, and if we will know love like that...
The second article I read today is about love letters displayed as art at the Lawrence A. Fleischman Gallery of the Smithsonian Institution's Donald W. Reynolds Center for American Art and Portraiture in early February. Essentially, it showcases letters written by famous artists to their paramours or children...it's not always about romantic love, but rather the different emotions that color each shade of love (aah, rather versatile with my words now dont'cha think..lol)..Here's my favourite excerpt about one of the letters...
excerpt begins...
Xavier Gonzalez (1898-1993), to take just one example, left small illustrated love notes for Ethel, his wife, almost every day. The papers that he left to the Archives of American Art include many hundreds of them. Almost anything could prompt them -- a memory, a whim or the act of stepping out to get the morning paper. One that's on display shows him struggling home in the pose of Atlas, bowed beneath the towering gray weight of the Sunday New York Times.
...excerpt ends and so does my monologue..
Goodnight everyone, and sweetdreamz......
The first one is a love letter by the French philosopher Andre Gorz to his terminally ill wife before their joint suicide in September 2007. Here are the excerpts I fell in love with...
excerpt begins.....
“You will soon be 82. You have shrunk six centimetres and you weigh just 45 kilos and you are still beautiful, gracious and desirable,” the book starts. “It is now 58 years that we have lived together and I love you more than ever.”
...
I asked myself what was the inessential that I needed to give up in order to concentrate on the essential. I told myself that, to grasp the reach of the upheavals that were looming in every domain, there had to be more space and time for reflection than the full-time exercise of my profession as a journalist allowed.
I was amazed that my leaving the journal, after 20 years of collaboration, was neither painful to myself nor to others. I remember having written that, at the end of the day, only one thing was essential to me: to be with you. I can’t imagine continuing to write, if you no longer are. You are the essential without which all the rest, no matter how important it seems to me when you are there, loses its meaning and its importance. I told you that in the dedication of my last work.
....
I am as mindful of your presence now as in the early days and would like to make you feel that. You’ve given me all of your life and all of you; I’d like to be able to give you all of me in the time we have left.
You’ve just turned 82. You are still beautiful, graceful and desirable. We’ve lived together now for 58 years and I love you more than ever. Lately I’ve fallen in love with you all over again and I once more carry inside me a gnawing emptiness that can only be filled by your body snuggled up against mine.
At night I sometimes see the figure of a man, on an empty road in a deserted landscape, walking behind a hearse. I am that man. It’s you the hearse is carrying away. I don’t want to be there for your cremation; I don’t want to be given an urn with your ashes in it. I hear the voice of Kathleen Ferrier singing, ‘Die Welt ist leer, Ich will nicht leben mehr’ and I wake up. I check your breathing, my hand brushes over you.
Each of us would like not to survive the other’s death. We’ve often said to ourselves that if, by some miracle, we were to have a second life, we’d like to spend it together."
....excerpt ends.
The emotion behind this letter is strong, so strong we are left to wonder if it's true, and if we will know love like that...
The second article I read today is about love letters displayed as art at the Lawrence A. Fleischman Gallery of the Smithsonian Institution's Donald W. Reynolds Center for American Art and Portraiture in early February. Essentially, it showcases letters written by famous artists to their paramours or children...it's not always about romantic love, but rather the different emotions that color each shade of love (aah, rather versatile with my words now dont'cha think..lol)..Here's my favourite excerpt about one of the letters...
excerpt begins...
Xavier Gonzalez (1898-1993), to take just one example, left small illustrated love notes for Ethel, his wife, almost every day. The papers that he left to the Archives of American Art include many hundreds of them. Almost anything could prompt them -- a memory, a whim or the act of stepping out to get the morning paper. One that's on display shows him struggling home in the pose of Atlas, bowed beneath the towering gray weight of the Sunday New York Times.
...excerpt ends and so does my monologue..
Goodnight everyone, and sweetdreamz......
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Presidential elections...
Unlike most of my contemporaries, I do not follow the Presidential elections happening south of the border, however, I cannot resist some interesting instances or debates.
I was rather keen on watching the CNN debate where the candidates had to talk about their health care policy; and more recently I loved Obama's speech right after McCain won the Republican nomination..(can't remember where he was at...but that was the speech when Clinton won the local primary)...anyway, today I heard about this little debacle where Hillary Clinton apparently suggested that Barack Obama should be the vice-presidential candidate if she won the Democratic nomination...(please ignore my loud rumbling laughter..lol..)..here is Obama's response, the first 3 minutes of this video are absolutely fantastic..another excellent moment in American Presidential election history...
I was rather keen on watching the CNN debate where the candidates had to talk about their health care policy; and more recently I loved Obama's speech right after McCain won the Republican nomination..(can't remember where he was at...but that was the speech when Clinton won the local primary)...anyway, today I heard about this little debacle where Hillary Clinton apparently suggested that Barack Obama should be the vice-presidential candidate if she won the Democratic nomination...(please ignore my loud rumbling laughter..lol..)..here is Obama's response, the first 3 minutes of this video are absolutely fantastic..another excellent moment in American Presidential election history...
Monday, March 10, 2008
snowed in...
This winter, it feels like we have a snow storm perpetually every other day..Now being in Canada, I know we have no right to complain (paradoxical statement, since I consider the ability to complain/whine mankind's right and duty..lol)..anyyway..apparently Canadians should not complain about the snow, since its a fact of life..bah humbug..but this year, I am really looking forward to spring and summer..beautiful flowers, spring weather, bright summery skies, long evening walks, yucky sticky subway rides, but overall the feeling of not being snowed in...
What? You don't believe me...well here's a sample of my view on Saturday afternoon...
oh..nd tomorrow is my dad's birthday..so I (ahem...) we cut the cake early tonight, since we all have such conflicting schedules tomorrow..it had nothing to do with the chocolate cake (beauty eh!)..:) :) :)
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