Yuganta by Irawati Karve

Just finished reading Yuganta by Irawati Karve. The book is basically an exploration of the major characters and events in the Mahabharata, so some familiarity with the story is essential for reading this, although it will probably suffice even to have just the cursory knowledge gained from grandmothers and half remembered, fairly ridiculous TV serials.

The first thing that struck me was that the author was on a mission to undermine many fondly held beliefs. She ascribes the basest of motives to the actions of major characters and cannot see good in anyone. Her's is certainly an iconoclastic view. She decries the way women were treated in the Mahabharata, blaming the men for all their woes. However, she never gets too strident about it either, managing to convey her views rationally (well, as rational as any interpretation of a 3000 year old epic can get) and without losing her tone of equanimity.

The most interesting parts of the book for me were when she ties in the verses of the Mahabharata with historical detail, explaining the relationship between the words and the way things were way back when all this written. For her, the Mahabharata is not just an exquisitely told story, it is also a document of the past, an anthropological living being. Throughout the book, one thing that stands out is her great love for this classic tale, as well as the awesome scholarship of this remarkable woman.

She ends the book with a particularly poignant essay. She says that the Mahabharata is a thing of great beauty, and the most beautiful thing about it is its philosophy that in a world where everything is open-ended, undecided, fragile, the thing to do is to get on with it. Not everything is pleasant. Sometimes you go unrewarded while others less worthy than you rule. Life is hard, deal with it. She goes on to contrast this with post-Mahabharata literature which was without exception sweetly sentimental and designed not to disturb, as well as reflective of the increasing dogmatisation of literature in the more puritanical Brahminic age, which rejected the rumbunctiousness of the earler ethos. She writes one sentence that makes me shiver - "How did we accept the dreamy escapism of bhakti or blind hero worship after having faced and thought undauntingly of the hard realities of life? How did the people who used to eat all meats, including beef, find satisfaction in ritually drinking the urine and eating the dung of the cow and calling this quadruped their mother?" Yes, she has strong views, but as I look around at all the stereotypification - especially on TV - and the lack of anything thought provoking in the mass-media, I wonder if it can be good for a society to be fed on a steady diet of sachharine sedatives and Page 3 self-respect. Where is the discordant, tortured voice of our times? Where is the dissent? Who is going to make us introspect and improve? Someone needs to do this, or there'll be nothing to do. In other words, buy this book. It is wonderful. A small sidenote about Irawati Karve - the bio-blurb in the book says that she got her Doctoral degree in Anthropology from Berlin U in 1928. 1928?!?! A scant few years after Cambridge produced it's first female graduates, this woman from India was doing a doctorate in Berlin? In German? I find that most impressive. As Anoop said, this woman is the greatest feminist icon that never was. Greater than Aishwarya Rai? I asked. No comment, said Anoop.

Ojos de Brujo

This is what I found while listening to Radio Netscape the other day - a great contemporary band called Ojos de Brujo. Their homepage doesn't seem to work, but you can find a nice interview of theirs here. The music is really mixed, but mainly as they say, flamenco and hip-hop. They've got all the tricks of arrangement done really nicely, lots of band dynamics and simply mindblowing use of voices. Although this is probably not going to be my favourite band of all time, their album is certainly instructive in terms of their approach to songwriting and arranging. And of course, their sound is wonderful and should be good for many weeks of joyful listening. I bought their album "Bari" from iTunes, but I suppose it should be available on most major emusic sites.

Helmets Rule

Although the controversy regarding the "making compulsory of helmets" seems to have died down, it's but a matter of time before it rears its ugly head again. (Baba, te tumhi helmets compulsory karnaar hota, tyacha kaay jhala? Majhi factory ashich padleli aahe.) Before it does so, let me explain to you why it is utterly unreasonable to make helmets compulsory. First of all, if one is wearing a helmet, how is one supposed to talk on a mobile phone while riding. After all, its far too dangerous to remove ones helmet, reach into one's pant pocket or purse, then pull out the phone, see who's calling and finally answer the phone. No, helmets would make this action far too dangerous and cannot therefore be made compulsory. In the interest of the health and safety of the public. Secondly, Puneites have this curious strain of spondilitis which makes it impossible to turn the head and look before driving onto a main road. This is an aggresively degenerating disease and is usually fatal. Adding the burden of a helmet onto what is already a broken back is not only immoral, it is inhuman. To compensate for this curse of nature, Puneites have developed a keen corner-eye vision. Squid-like, they claim they can see everything even though they never seem to move their heads around, which brings us to our next point. A helmet restricts the field of vision. Will you take away one of the last lines of defence that the poor driver has against Pune's traffic mayhem? After all, these are grown-up responsible adults we're talking about. The state should not and can not treat them like little children who don't know whats good for them. And that's all I have to say about that.

The end of the season!

Ah well, Panchgani is over till October. As the sun starts to make its way back to the Northern Hemisphere, the winds on the steadily warming Deccan Plateau make paragliding here impossible, and this is when the small community of pilots that live in the village start making their way elsewhere. Last flights are stolen from the uncooperative elements, memorable flights from previous days remembered fondly, goodbye chillums and barbecues are smoked and one day, the camp lies empty. The little tent that I called home for the majority of the last three months suddenly looks so much bigger now that the mess in it is gone. The merry bunch of hippies is criss-crossing the country in trains, on their way to other places, other things. Everyone promises to be back next year. Come to Bir in April, they say. I'll try. Or we see you in Nepal. Hey, come to Austria in the summer. For me, this probably means no more flying for many months. While Kamshet is still flyable for a few months more, it cannot match the charm of Panchgani for me, and so I suppose even if I do fly there, It'll be like dating someone new after a long and monogamous relationship. But not to worry. Something else will fill the seasons until the autumn equinox. And sooner or later, the season comes around again and the skies over Panchgani fill once again with brightly coloured canopies, and once again it will be time to take off. Or I could go to Austria in the summer.

The Passport Office

One of the wonderful things about the internet is the availibility of all kinds of nuggets of priceless information. Here's one that might save you some time: How to renew a passport (in Pune) N.B: This is only for renewing a passport. For fresh passport, ECNR, etc. this is mostly irrelevant. If you have been through any of these processes, mail me your experience. First of all, if you are feeling anxious or terrified about visiting the passport office, let me assure you that atleast the one I went to was very efficient, clean and remarkably free of unpleasantness. Your mileage may vary. Going to an agent is fully unnecessary if you follow the simple steps below: 1) There is a passport office (opposite Symbiosis College, Ganeshkhind Road). Take with you a) your passport (duh!) b) proof of address (ration card or bank passbook over one year old ONLY) 2) Get a form from the window marked "Enquiries". Costs Rs.10. Takes about 10 minutes. 3) Fill the form. DO NOT sign or thumb print it anywhere. 4) The closest Xerox place is when you turn right beyond the parking lot. I went to the shop on the extreme right. The bitch there wouldn't give me gum, so I had to buy a Rs. 5 tube from here. To thwart her evilness, I left the tube there and said give gum to whoever needs it. If she tries to make you pay, remind her of this fact. Anyways, make two copies of the form. Now sign all three versions and thumb-print the first page in the space provided. 5) Attach to this two copies of your passport [important note: if you have valid visas in your passport, make 2 copies of these as well. Make sure you MENTION THIS FACT while submitting the form] as well as two copies of your proof of address. This can be either a ration card or a bank passbook which is atleast a year old. 6) Take all this to the guy who sits outside and checks the form. The Rs.20 is well worth it. 6) Take all this along with the originals back to the passport office. Stand in line for a token [approx 20 - 25 mins]. 7) Get the token. Now you can have a chai. The restaurant just outside is quite a pleasant place to sit and read a book. I read Yuganta by Irawati Karve. 8) You need to finish your chai before your token number comes, so some judgement is required. Failure to do so will result in you having to persuade someone to let you go before them. Not advisable. 9) Submit the forms. Hopefully all should go well and you will suffer only the withering glances of a civil servant who has been robbed of an opportunity to chastise you [my revenge will then be complete!] 10) Wait around till the cashier flashes your token number. The renewal costs Rs. 1000. Hope this helps.

Tokyo Cancelled

Just finished reading Tokyo Cancelled by Rana Dasgupta and it is a wonderful book. The jacket says that this is about 13 people stranded at an airport on the way to Tokyo who start telling each other stories to pass the time. What the jacket omits to tell you is that these are thirteen completely mad stories, full of magic realism and psychedelia worthy of Marquez and sometimes, bordering on Borges. Although Dasgupta does sometimes overdo the "look-at-my-sentence-con-struc-tion" bit, he's always riveting and even though like most short stories these too end abruptly, they are fun to read from start to finish. The best part of the book is that Dasgupta doesn't bother with even a cursory examination of the relationships between the 13 passengers. This book is all about the stories. This is an amazing book and should be read by everyone who likes to read. Once you are done with the book, you can entertain yourself by flipping to a random page, choosing a random sentence and reading it just for the pure pleasure of feeling the vibrations of words that were put together with care. i.e.The sun had nearly set and the last rays on the walls hummed at a frequency that created a distasteful reverberation in his skull. His mouth was dry and the insistent sounds of the evening crows settled on his bloated tongue with an acrid taste.