From one of my Favourite Authors

Humans think they are smarter than dolphins because we build cars and buildings and start wars etc., and all that dolphins do is swim in the water, eat fish and play around. Dolphins believe that they are smarter for exactly the same reasons.

-Douglas Adams, writer, dramatist, and musician

Supply follows Demand

The other day Manju Bhabhi and I were discussing her numerous names (she is a prophet in disguise as mental inside). She remarked with a mild indignation (level one on a scale of 1 to 10) that one of her other frequently used name came from a soft porn star in USK. I asked, how come people who make porn are not respectable, but people who watch it are? The world is filled with such illogical moralities.

A poem I read today, brought forth these thoughts. The poem touches upon the age-old gender equation. The man-woman game though not my expertise, I found the poem raises some appropriate questions.


You Men

by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (1651 - 1695 / San Miguel
Nepantla / Mexico)


Silly, you men-so very adept
at wrongly faulting womankind,
not seeing you're alone to blame
for faults you plant in woman's mind.

After you've won by urgent plea
the right to tarnish her good name,
you still expect her to behave--
you, that coaxed her into shame.

You batter her resistance down
and then, all righteousness, proclaim
that feminine frivolity,
not your persistence, is to blame.

When it comes to bravely posturing,
your witlessness must take the prize:
you're the child that makes a bogeyman,
and then recoils in fear and cries.

Presumptuous beyond belief,
you'd have the woman you pursue
be Thais when you're courting her,
Lucretia once she falls to you.

For plain default of common sense,
could any action be so queer
as oneself to cloud the mirror,
then complain that it's not clear?

Whether you're favored or disdained,
nothing can leave you satisfied.
You whimper if you're turned away,
you sneer if you've been gratified.

With you, no woman can hope to score;
whichever way, she's bound to lose;
spurning you, she's ungrateful--
succumbing, you call her lewd.

Your folly is always the same:
you apply a single rule
to the one you accuse of looseness
and the one you brand as cruel.

What happy mean could there be
for the woman who catches your eye,
if, unresponsive, she offends,
yet whose complaisance you decry?

Still, whether it's torment or anger--
and both ways you've yourselves to blame--
God bless the woman who won't have you,
no matter how loud you complain.

It's your persistent entreaties
that change her from timid to bold.
Having made her thereby naughty,
you would have her good as gold.

So where does the greater guilt lie
for a passion that should not be:
with the man who pleads out of baseness
or the woman debased by his plea?

Or which is more to be blamed--
though both will have cause for chagrin:
the woman who sins for money
or the man who pays money to sin?

So why are you men all so stunned
at the thought you're all guilty alike?
Either like them for what you've made them
or make of them what you can like.

If you'd give up pursuing them,
you'd discover, without a doubt,
you've a stronger case to make
against those who seek you out.

I well know what powerful arms
you wield in pressing for evil:
your arrogance is allied
with the world, the flesh, and the devil!

Vote for Flying Machine

The news channels are at it again. The day it rains a bit, they are out covering the water logged areas from morning to evening and reporting how it is not sensible to venture out of the house. Last Saturday Rascal happened to travel by bus from Colaba to Mulund and saw few TV channels stationed at Parel to give live report of the flooding. According to Rascal's aankhon dekha haal, there was no water on his side, traffic was moving smoothly, there was some water on the other side and he thinks the traffic jam must have been created by the vans stationed by them channels. I said, at least there was real rain water, over time they might bring their own tankers in the stealth of the night to flood some localities and create some news.

Now Parel and its step sister lower Parel are so low-lying, that if each resident of those chawl buildings lining the road decide to throw half a bucket of water on the road at the same time, they are sure to flood the road even in summer. As for warning the Mumbaikars, does anybody pay heed to the news. To let in a secret, we wait for the opportunity to walk home from Churchgate to Virar or VT to Thane or any place in between every monsoon. We need our yearly dose of adrenaline to take us through the drudgery of the rest of the year. This year we even have the Bandra-Worli sea-link to walk on: toll-free. The news channels are out to spoil it for us. If I had the power I would allow only 2 news channels and ration the news hour to only two hours per day, i.e, 4 half an hour slots. For entertainment we can all go back to watching Tom & Jerry.

If people in teens could have their way, they would declare the 30+ fossils.

From Zen

This pain is not to make you sad, remember. That's where people go on missing... This pain is just to make you more alert--because people become alert only when the arrow goes deep into their heart and wounds them. Otherwise they don't become alert. When life is easy, comfortable, convenient, who cares? Who bothers to become alert? When a friend dies, there is a possibility. When your woman leaves you alone--those dark nights, you are lonely. You have loved that woman so much and you have staked all, and then suddenly one day she is gone. Crying in your loneliness, those are the occasions when, if you use them, you can become aware. The arrow is hurting: it can be used. The pain is not to make you miserable, the pain is to make you more aware! And when you are aware, misery disappears.

- Osho