Embrace or Embarrass?

The other day one of my school friends came out the closet on Facebook. Well, to be more precise, this person expressed that they were relieved and happy to come out of the closet. I am not really that convinced by the confession/Facebook status; not that this person’s sexuality matters to me one way or the other. Anyway, I left it at that considering the sensitive nature of the topic.

   

**Spoiler Alert!** 

   

Now, my friend is not the topic of discussion here. A couple of weeks back, I watched a pretty good Malayalam movie that briefly touches this topic. I was impressed to see Malayalam cinema come of age. The casting director made a smart choice by selecting an actor who is perhaps considered the epitome of masculinity to play the gay character. Brave too, some might add.

    

Having said that, I was quite shocked, as was the protagonist in the movie, by the reaction of  the hero when he discovered the main character’s sexuality. I mean, why would someone be shocked and disappointed if a person is not straight? Why the self-loathing? To quote R, another friend of mine, “A brilliantly shot film with a masterful pace of suspense, however [sic] encapsulated with such blatant homophobia. Is this what bravery means nowadays in mallu Tinseltown?” My thoughts exactly.

    

To the entire Mumbai Police team, bravo for introducing the theme to mainstream Malayalam movies, sincerely. But shame on you for shaming gays and lesbians, that too in front of a narrow-minded set of people. Apologies Mallus, but we are a narrow-minded lot, for the most of it.

Is it time for an Intervention?

I love to read.
I read just about anything that can be read.
I read the back of the cereal box every time I have cereal.
I read the user manual of any new device. Yes! The entire booklet.
I read leaflets enclosed in medicine boxes, you know, the one about side effects and all.
In short, I read every word of practically every printed/written matter.

Yet, I skipped whole sections of Robin Cook’s Intervention. I was so bored by the book. What a disappointment considering my expectations from the author. What was he thinking? Riding the Dan Brown wave? More precisely, riding the Dan Brown-induced threat-to-Christianity wave? I’d barely gotten through The Lost Symbol before I swore off these history+Christianity combos. And then came Intervention, that too when I was really lusting for familiar medical action.

Now which author is going to follow suit? Forsythe? Follet? No, please not Grisham. Calling all for an intervention before things start getting outta hand!

Inshallah

The meaning of Inshallah is ‘if God wills it’. Now that’s a word I’ve been hearing since toddlerhood. When I grew big enough to think on my own, I knew that when Uppa said Inshallah in response to one of our requests, he had no intentions of fulfilling it; he just didn’t want to disappoint us with an outright No.

  

Later in college, one of my friends, Abid used to mention Inshallah a lot. Whenever he said it, things worked out just the opposite to our wishes. So, Inshallah started being associated with ‘no chance’ or ‘hell freezing over is likelier’. The word got so unpopular that a few of our non-Muslim friends started referring to it as ‘the I word’.

  

 
I used to poke fun of the word, a lot. That was until 29^th Aug, 2008 happened.
  

Case in point:  17^th Sept, 2007 was Kashi’s birthday. In contrast to our usual low-profile birthdays, this time we had planned a dinner out with our cousins (maternal cousins who were in the UAE at that time). We were all walking to our cars when suddenly Kashi told us that we’d have to take a rain check on the dinner. Another cousin (paternal) was unwell and had called up my brother to take him to the doctor. All of us dispersed saying that the next time we’d have a big bash. Mind you, there were no Inshallahs mentioned. Alas! As tragic and spooky as things got, there was to be no next time.

  

Another case in point: In early 2009, I was window shopping and saw a Premium edition Scrabble set, the kind that we had since our Saudi days.  I knew right then that this was the perfect gift for my father, a Scrabble enthusiast. I also knew that it was not the right time to randomly buy it for Uppa as he wasn’t big on gifts. His 65^th birthday was fast approaching and that seemed like a good time to gift him the prized Scrabble set. Sadly, no Inshallahs occurred in my mind. As things would have been, God never willed for that 65^th birthday to happen.

  

So, no more mocking Inshallah. Now, I am scared about forgetting to say Inshallah when I wish for something. Inshallah, I’ll be more mindful of God’s intentions.

You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you. ~ C.S. Lewis

Age of Innocence

I was watching the classic 'Hum Aapke Hain Kaun' last night. It reminded me how graceful actresses of that time were and how much more clothes they all had on them. That apart, I was reminded of my school days, the times we spent playing Antakshari, where most songs of the aforementioned movie featured. Those were some great days - our only worries were about grades. Such great friends I was among - Saima, Sameera, Alham, Lavanya. Most of them were Pakistanis...what spunk and spirit they had, how lively our class used to be. I know for sure that their fervor for life and their don't-be-serious-all-the-time demeanor rubbed on to me. Time to look them up on FB.

Down the Memory Lane

I had serious intentions when I went hunting for older pics of mine, ones where I was comparatively fitter (read slimmer). I just wanted some inspiration to burn my blubber. Instead, I took an emotional trip down the memory lane.

These pictures were no more than seven years old and yet I couldn't but ponder over the multitude of changes 7 puny years brought about in my life...career change to status change to change of residence to change of attitude towards life and death...

Ordinarily, a family pic taken on one of the Eids would just elicit a smile. Now I smile, but I also sigh.
Melancholy takes the place of delight when I see a picture of us friends having a good time at the Hyatt Regency. A sense of homesickness (Sigh!)

On the plus side, today I made a black bean dip that reminded me of Foul Mudammas, a staple Friday morning dish in the Kannathpady household!


Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to.  ~John Ed Pearce

Going Great Guns

New blog. Check.
Fresh ideas. Check.
High energy. Check.

Yup, I’m finally all set to launch my new blog. Some eat to live; others live to eat. I belong to the second category. On days when I live to eat, I'll share my thoughts about food. On the occasional days when I eat only to live, I'll give you plenty of food for thought.

Until next time, some food for thought.

Recipe: A series of step-by-step instructions for preparing ingredients you forgot to buy, in utensils you don't own, to make a dish the dog wouldn't eat.