No one belongs here more than you. Yes, you.

It still counts, even though it happened when he was unconscious. It counts doubly because the conscious mind often makes mistakes, falls for the wrong person. But down there in the well, where there is no light, and only thousand-year-old water, a man has no reason to make mistakes. -- Miranda July.

Good writing excites me. A bit too much, I imagine. As a rule, I warn non-reading company before I open a book that I just know will be delicious. Else I get funny looks at every giggle, every content sigh and every chuckle at the clever turns of phrase I come across. But most importantly, they are informed about the threat of bodily harm that looms large on their heads, and are given the option of taking their not-interested-in-books-good-for-nothing-butt to another room - all because a good book may sometimes incite extreme physical reactions in me. Like Portuguese tarts can.

I am literally married to a book right now, one that has me so involved that every three pages or so, I involuntarily lunge at the person sitting next to me and with a crazy glint in my eyes, shriek out - You have to read this, ohmygod, this is amazing stuff! - or variations of the same. I normally get a I'm-scared-of-you-leave-me-alone kind of reaction, which I happily ignore, and proceed to read out a passage or two from the book to my very bored, and by now, frustrated listener.

Which is why I'm writing this. None of you need to be warned about my extreme reactions, but I'll tell you this -  if there's one book that you're going to read this month (because reading less than one a month is out of the question, unless you go to BU and have two jobs), then let it be a lovely book of short stories by Miranda July called No one belongs here more than you. It's been really long since a book inspired a blog post in me (you know, being the lazy bum that I am), but if I've made it to three paragraphs, you can be sure this is something great.

 To get you started off, I suggest you visit the book's website. And if that doesn't get you all curious, then visit the wonderful lady's website here. If you need more, then watch a brilliantly potent movie here, which was her idea (she's a prolific filmmaker too, but this is the only one I've seen.)

And if none of this gets to you, well then, I guess I'm going to have to disown you now, won't I?

P.S. I wonder what the literary equivalent of food orgasm is.

P.P.S. Doesn't the lady look scarily, insanely creative?

*

No one belongs here more than you. Yes, you.

Aapke sur mein gadbad hai, she said.

So, I saw the Phir Mile Sur video that everyone has been ranting against. And I feel their pain. I had to pause it and barf the moment Abhiash - or whatever they hell they're called - came on. Fifteen minutes later, I was ready to continue. Only to repeat my performance when Deepika Padukone appears in what could easily pass of as a negligee and then proceeds to get wet in the rain. All in a video dedicated to my wonderful country.

I would rip it apart myself, but my friend seems to have done a wonderful job of it already. Read her post here.

In a nutshell, I am insulted by this video. Well-intentioned as it may be, Zoom seems to have the basics all wrong. Last time I checked: 

• India was more than cinema, Bollywood or otherwise.
  
• Anoushka Shankar was a British national who lives in the United States, not an Indian.
  
• The northeastern states were just as much a part of India as Punjab, Kerala or Delhi.

You would expect that a video of this sort would focus just a wee bit more on the last 1.5 minutes - you know, the part where they hint at our army, navy, sportspersons. The things that the video should have actually been based on. Example: the original, and wonderful, Mile Sur video I grew up on. Classic.

I want to know why we didn't have people from politics, literature, art and science. Or were they going to spoil Zoom's pathetic attempt at a glam national anthem? I'm all for reinventing the old, making it new again, giving it a fresh tweak. But not at the cost of its essence. And not at the cost of ending up with a cheap attempt at nationalism. Zoom has messed up. Big, big time. This was not a nice Republic Day watch, to say the least. First, I miss the parade. And then, I watch this. Awesome.

But anyhow, after the rant that was not supposed to be, I am going to try calming down. Even though, as Ra put it, a little piece of my childhood has died.

I think I'll go drown my sorrows in A. R. Rahman's timeless patriotism.

Happy Republic Day. I guess.

*

Aapke sur mein gadbad hai, she said.

Just a thought

Every progressive move that India makes is not necessarily a consequence of Western infleunce. Every tradition we adhere to is not a step back, not an undoing of our progress.

Labels need to be removed. Things need to be naked. Minds need to be open. Then, maybe, we can make some judgments about where we are headed without sounding stupid. *

Just a thought