Power Tripping with Pushpa

 

Pushpa 2: The Rule much like its predecessor has proven to be a box office behemoth while being entirely problematic in its unabashed celebration of toxic masculinity despite pretensions to the contrary. While enjoyable thanks to the towering talent of Allu Arjun playing Pushpa with his indefatigable charisma and the entertaining antics of Fahadh Faasil, who can play the villainous clown in his sleep, the film makes no bones about its commitment to catering to the slobbering troglodyte in all of us. This certainly explains Pushpa’s pan – Indian success, while underlining the fact that logic – defying though it is, the film does hold up a mirror to a society that is heedlessly plummeting to the depths of inequity and greed.

In the maximalist world of Pushpa, might and money makes everything right and groovy, not unlike the real world. The viewer is asked to sympathize with the red sandalwood smuggler protagonist because he is a bastard who is constantly harassed and humiliated by his legitimate half - sibling. Pushpa puts up with this though he has killed others without compunction for lesser offenses because he craves acceptance and respect for himself and his long – suffering mum and will stop at nothing to get what he feels is his due. But none of this alters the fact that he is a killer and gangster whose overblown pride can suffer no slight without demanding savage retribution. Yet this feral boy with the massively proportioned ego is celebrated as a God and is rewarded with the slavish devotion of his wife and loyal followers in whose eyes he can do no wrong.

Pushpa pees drunkenly into a pool to get even with an antagonist who sought to humble him and we are asked to cheer his sickening behaviour. Hardly surprising since there is no public place in India that is not treated as a urinal by Indian boys, and we are supposed to look the other way because this is just what boys do, even in doddering dotage.

The first film, Pushpa: The Rise drew flak for its portrayal of women as the weaker sex who need animalistic types to protect them from their bestial brethren when they are not being objectified outright. The latest edition tries to rectify its mistakes by giving the female lead played by Rashmika a rousing monologue about the glory of Pushpa, though it doesn’t hold back from shooting her at pornographic angles in the song sequences. She gets the part of the dream wife who despite rolling in money, spends her days cooking for her husband, singing his praises and performing her conjugal duties with gusto. Consequently, unlike what her character went through in Animal, another ode to the outsized male ego, Pushpa is faithful.

Of course, the film still views a woman’s body as a battlefield for rampaging male pride. It takes great pains to tell women, they are best suited to being the dutiful sidekick to the husband even if he is an unhinged lout or masturbatory fodder for infantile incels as aspiring for more will get them raped or killed. Yet another inedible dose that is the real truth in a fallen world. For all its flaws, Pushpa is inadvertently honest about what is but ought not to be.  

This article was originally published in TNIE Magazine

THE CATASTROPHIC CANINE CRISIS

 

Cases of strays or pet dogs, routinely attacking citizens and claiming lives, including those of children regularly makes it to headlines. Recently, a 5 – year old girl was mauled by two Rottweilers at a Nungambakkam park leading to a widespread public outcry. This prompted a typical knee – jerk response with the TN govt. declaring a ban against the import, sale, and breeding of 23 dangerous dog breeds including Rottweilers, Pit Bulls, Terriers and Rhodesian Ridgebacks, similar to the one issued by the Central govt. in March only to withdraw it within a matter of hours because the Madras high court and a few others had stayed the directive in response to protests by pet owners and breeders.

This non-resolution to the canine crisis in India is typical and has re-ignited the debate on how to deal with the problem with animal lovers and activists arrayed against concerned citizens demanding stronger guidelines to deal with the strays and aggressive pets. The statistics are chilling. India accounts for about 36 percent of the World’s rabies deaths. Deaths related to attacks by man’s best friends and dog bite cases are staggeringly high. Worse, many such instances go unreported, especially in rural areas. Packs of strays running wild on the streets and roads, are ticking time bombs, endangering themselves as well as the citizenry.

A suitable solution is possible provided committed action is taken by the Animal Welfare Board, state administration and the general populace working in tandem. Strays need to be gathered, vaccinated, neutered, and rehabilitated in dog shelters and sanctuaries to curb the burgeoning stray population and prevent attacks. Concerned citizens need to chip in with their time, money, and a willingness to adopt in order to supplement the efforts of the government. Pet control laws must be strictly enforced with owners ensuring that the four – legged members of the family are responsibly cared for and when taken out in public are suitably collared, leashed, and muzzled if necessary. A common complaint is that many people arbitrarily feed strays without taking overall responsibility for the dog’s welfare which leads to these animals becoming territorial and more prone to attacking the unwary, when they are not fed. Which is why raising public awareness and educating people about how best to protect themselves while dealing with strays, treatment options for rabies, etc. are key to making it possible for humans and animals to coexist without harming each other.

Ending the canine crisis entirely is going to be a challenge simply because heavy funds are required to sterilize and shelter these animals. Municipal bodies that aren’t corrupt or committed to enriching themselves at the expense of others tend to divert the limited resources towards more pressing concerns prioritising human over animal welfare thereby endangering both and allowing a bad situation to worsen. There is also the question of euthanasia or culling unwanted strays demanded by practical necessities, but which raises questions about promoting cruelty to animals and failure to safeguard their rights. A sustainable, lasting, and humane solution to the canine crisis is not impossible to achieve but it remains improbable.

This article was originally published in The New Indian Express.

Dealing with Indecisiveness

 

It is hard for me to make up my mind. Should I go bonkers, cooped up at home during the pandemic or risk getting infected by stepping out and living a little? Should I work harder on losing the weight I piled on during the lockdown or encourage myself to love mine own self even if said self is dangerously close to bursting at the seams? Should I follow through on my occasional urge to leave home with nothing more than my backpack (and all the credit cards and cash I can stuff into it) to explore the furthermost contours of the world or stay put and continue to cope with the humdrum monotony of the daily grind?

Shaking my head like a Bollywood heroine in the utmost throes of theatrical despair, I scold myself a little for being obsessed with pathetic non - issues that are of little consequence to anyone other than me. Then I turn my attention to whatever is trending on Twitter, figuring it has to be better than Instagram and Facebook, which have perfected the art of packaging envy incited by filtered images that give the impression of perfect bodies and lives, and using it to sell overpriced products which will supposedly give us the superficial satisfaction that only pretend perfection can. Twitter is always interesting for those who thrive on chaos or depend on it for stimulating ideas that can be worked into columns. It can also be conflicting as hell.

Is the HBO documentary Allen Vs Farrow a scathing indictment of a predator who groomed and married his step – daughter in addition to molesting his own daughter or is it PR/ activism on behalf of Farrow given how much key information has been omitted that may have exonerated Allen? Is Megan Markle a poor little rich girl who is a victim of racism and violation of privacy or is she merely playing the victim and bemoaning the loss of her privacy while revealing intimate details about the sex of her unborn child to the entire world? Did Kamaraj, a Zomato delivery executive punch Hitesha and break her nose or did she whack him with a slipper and injure herself to grab some sympathy likes for herself?

Perhaps, it would be simpler to fixate on my own stuff. Should I humble brag about an award I have been nominated for? Or acknowledge that I don’t have a shot against my brilliant fellow nominees and forget about begging everyone I know and don’t to cast their votes for me? I could always listen to my mother and disappear into a weight loss facility. Or stock up on Patanjali products that promise solutions for everything from obesity to finding inner peace and making up one’s mind.

This article was originally published in The New Indian Express.

Unpromising Politics

 

If you have the stomach for it and tend not to throw up when confronted with all things revolting, it is always amusing to watch politicians in action when elections are around the corner. They step out wearing crisp ethnic wear, sporting bad dye/toupee jobs, palms folded together reverentially, flashing sincere fake smiles while waving from top open vehicles, trundling past giant hoardings of their photo-shopped selves and strategically placed loud - speakers promising the citizens that the candidate is ‘The One’.

These sterling individuals who repeatedly reiterate their unswerving commitment to making their constituencies an indubitable slice of heaven are usually accompanied by a motley crew of not – quite gentlemen togged out in ill – fitting traditional gear in assorted hues of white the supposed color of purity, flaunting sunglasses, gold jewelry and the odd recurved blade or two, which their attire doesn’t quite conceal. These bear an uncanny resemblance to ruffians in masala movies who serve as the muscle/fawning toadies of the villains who are mostly there to impress upon the masses that they better vote for their exalted leader or else...

Usually there is a lot of speechifying at rallies where the audience are lured in with promises of petty cash, booze and chicken biriyani. Most seeking to become elected or re-elected representatives of the people, for the people and by the people usually can’t speak worth a damn but clearly they have found a way around their limitations and managed to channel their inner Cicero meets Deepak Chopra with the right dosage of inebriant even if it does cause them to slur over their tall promises.

Speaking of promises, there are many of those made in rousing speeches delivered at volumes guaranteed to bust eardrums and via paid advertisements across social media. The impoverished, minorities and women are assured that their rights will be the top priority and not the rich men who actually run the country. Aspiring candidates swear on their lives that the evil that is the caste system will no longer deny people their due, religious rights of all will be upheld, and women need not worry endlessly about being gang – raped, murdered, harassed, or being denied opportunities for career advancement. Hell, even house – wives will receive a much deserved salary, they are told. Law and order will be maintained, there will be beautiful, fully – furnished houses for the poor with as many toilets built as temples/churches/mosques. Quality education will be free for all, development will proceed unhindered and soon, the entire country will look twice as pretty as Switzerland in Spring.

Of course, the oft frustrated Indian voter doesn’t buy any of it but they can’t look away either. Because despite the awfulness of it all, dirty politics makes for one riveting spectacle.

This article was originally published in The New Indian Express.

Enough with the Love Stories

 

The controversial ‘love jihad’ ordinance recently enforced by the Uttar Pradesh government for the purpose of preventing ‘canny’ Muslim men from sweeping ‘clueless’ Hindu girls off their feet in order to get them to change their faith has provoked vehement opposition. This is an ugly measure that spits in the face of secular India and deserves to be overturned. Yet, these unholy methods implemented in the name of all things holy got me thinking about deep – seated issues related to the institution of marriage, that extend beyond the obvious bigotry and hatred that fuel these inane legal precepts. 

Why do we persist in believing that falling in love and getting married are essential to a wonderful life despite evidence to the contrary? Practically, every popular movie or show, features variations of extremely good – looking young people getting smitten, prancing around in exotic locales and dealing with messy matters of the heart before driving into the sunset towards that happily ever after, the fairy tales promised us was the inevitable culmination of every love story. Every once in a while, the lovesick in reel life and more alarmingly in real life are assaulted or slaughtered by sick creeps. Terrifyingly, these lovebird killers are cheered on by fanatics who foolishly believe that it is not in keeping with Indian tradition to fall in love or have consensual sex outside of an arranged, endogamous marriage.

These extreme reactions to cozy twosomes has always been perplexing to me. Lovers, even the interfaith ones are mostly a self – indulgent lot given to stewing in a sickening syrup of all things sensual and superficial, sanguine in their deluded notions of the enduring power of that fragile, fickle emotion called love, which is as likely to last forever as an egg sandwich left in the sun. Eventually when a relationship regresses to a legally sanctified union, even the most besotted come to realize that marriage is where affection goes to die, in a paroxysm of pain brought on by resentment, regret, and an absence of shared joy.

Marriage was originally designed for boring practical purposes to serve a society devoted to perpetuating the human race by raising batches of brats together. It was never intended to be a perpetual source of personal fulfillment or an adventure ride, replete with romance. Therefore, it is about time we stopped defining a good life in terms of fleeting connubial bliss to counter dangerous ordinances framed by harmful halfwits targeting harmless twits. Let us resolve to secure a better future by refusing to invest so heavily in the trivial pursuit of a non – existent state of transcendental togetherness especially if there is risk to life, limb and more. We will do just fine without the love stories, tragic or even otherwise.  

 This article was originally published in The New Indian Express.

When Paranoia met Corona

 

Even in pre – Corona days, I was a compulsive hand washer and my handbag was never without a small bottle of sanitizer. One can never be too careful. People in these parts poop, pee, and noisily spit just about anywhere. As a WFH author, I have long encouraged myself to practice social distancing and it was never difficult because I have an abhorrence of crowds and will risk wading into one only if Vijay Sethupathy/Devarokonda have released a movie. Social gatherings aren’t a big draw either unless there is coffee and cake. But since I can brew a wicked cup of coffee myself and now that my relationship with my tempestuous oven is cordial there is no reason to try and cure my tendency to be a hopeless introvert who is perfectly comfortable eschewing socializing, virtual or otherwise.

The husband who was cautious to start with seems headed towards full-blown hyper - vigilantism. He is making his own sanitizer with isopropyl alcohol and glycerine, vacuuming every inch of the house and scrubbing all available surfaces with lizol and I believe he spends his free time drawing up plans to build a sterile bubble we can step into every time we have to step out in order to rebuff germs as well as its carriers for good.

We have welcomed the newly enforced rules and regulations insisting that people wash their hands with soap and reaffirm their commitment to personal hygiene. Yet, even I can’t help but think we are going too far and it is high time we got a grip. For it is one thing to be sensibly cautious but quite another when we allow ourselves to become dangerously paranoid. There are too many news articles attesting to how we have swung towards the latter. 

These are hardly the best of times and it is okay to be scared. But when we allow unfounded fear and irrational concerns to rule over good sense, an already crappy situation becomes far crappier. It is heart-breaking to hear about doctors being pelted with stones, nurses evicted from their apartments by heartless landlords, relatives of the deceased being hounded and harassed while attempting to perform the last rites, and immigrant workers being barred entry from their villages and towns. It is sensible to want to avoid risking infection but not if it is going to cost us our humanity.

We are in this together and it is only a matter of time before we learn to live with Corona the way we do with the umpteen viruses, bacteria and thoughtless humans out there. So wash your hands, drink your coffee, eat your cake and do whatever it takes to prevent going stir crazy.

This article was published in The New Indian Express.

A Human Approach to Impending Danger

Photo | PTI

Ostriches supposedly bury their heads in the sand when they are threatened or frightened. It is universally agreed that this is the stupidest of moves. My 10 – year old who loves animals, birds and National Geographic busted this myth. She told me that it is an optical illusion because these large birds have disproportionately tiny heads and when they are checking on their eggs which they have laid by digging deep holes in the dirt and building their nests, it looks like they have their heads buried in the sand. Humans on the other hand have a pronounced tendency to stick their heads up their backsides in the middle of a crisis or even otherwise, and that I am afraid is no myth.

For instance, take lockdown 4.0 currently in progress. There are thousands of rules about what the citizens can or cannot do which are disseminated on news channels and via Whatsapp forwards. Thousands of Covid - related circulars have been issued by the Central and state governments to clarify or counter instructions given in circulars circulated earlier and we can expect thousands more to ‘clarify’ the clarifications. It is a vicious circle and the end result is chaos. The only thing that is crystal clear is that none of the people who have been entrusted with the fate of the nation have a clue about what ought to be done.

Sample this. Liquor shops were opened across the length and breadth of the country thanks to government orders. According to some statistics I dredged up from the internet more people die every hour from alcohol – related issues than Corona at its most contagious. And yet, the government in its infinite wisdom decides that is imperative that the good citizens be allowed to drink themselves to death and spread the damn virus even as the curve stubbornly refuses to flatten. Given the big bucks liquor sales rake in for the government it is easy to see why such a dubious decision was made even as unemployment rates soar and suicide cases have spiked over people’s inability to make ends make.

Then there is the question of the migrant labourers. The government has opened train services to help them reach their homes, but apparently they have to cough up dough they do not have to avail themselves of these services. According to the Inter – State Migrant Workmen Act, 1979, on cessation of employment, the employer must pay the employee’s fare for their journey home. Why is this law being ignored? Also has any thought at all been put into the fact that this exodus from the red urban zones to the green rural areas heightens the risk of contagion? Also how will businesses that have been re – opened find labourers when they have no idea about how or if the migrant workers will make it back to their jobs?

Then there is the question of population explosion. A top UN body has declared that India is projected to record 20 million births between March and December, 2020. It is a pity that contraceptives are not counted as a must have and no steps are being taken to make them available free of cost for the poor and needy.

There seems to be little preparation or planning for the cataclysmic aftermath of Corona and if we don’t remove our heads from where they are currently lodged at present, they will roll. 

This article was originally published in The New Indian Express.

Vegetarianism is not Synonymous with Virtue

I have nothing against vegetarians. A lot of them are friends who invite me home for meals where I cheerfully stuff my face with pulao (just don’t call it veg. biriyani), stuffed chapathis, papads, gobi manchurian and carrot halwa.  When I return the favour, they are content to tuck into my veggie fried rice, chilli paneer, mushroom au gratin and chocolate fudge without gagging at the sight of the non – vegetarian spread. More importantly, they have never judged me for my carnivorous ways nor, I them their culinary choices since these have their roots in culture, tradition, religion or personal preference. That ought to be that, but unfortunately it isn’t. 

In recent times, many from the growing ranks of vegetarians who may prefer terms like vegan, lacto vegetarian, ovo vegetarian, pollotarian, pescatarian or flexitarian have taken a militant stand against eaters of meat seemingly determined to convert those they believe don’t know better with missionary zeal and extreme shaming tactics. Herbivores seek to condemn and criticize those who are partial to their deluxe bacon burgers and mutton biriyani or simply cannot pay the criminal prices charged for kale, aubergine, quinoa and salads made with 75 environment friendly ingredients. Surely that is obscene in a land where too many are unable to afford one square meal let alone an expensive, organically sourced vegan one? If a fattened goat feeds a family for a week why begrudge anybody that?

Almost as bad is the attempt to impose cardinal culinary principles on others by those who are sanguine in the mistaken belief that vegetarianism is synonymous with virtue which makes them morally superior beings and the offspring of dharma and ahimsa. When those of the phytophagous variety (foes of flora, I like to call them), insist that it is not possible for those who can’t do without roasted chicken to love or care for animals, that those who feed their children meat are guilty of abuse (never mind that courts in various parts of the world have pulled up parents who forced their dietary ‘principles’ on their children with the result that they wound up malnourished) and meat eaters are destroying the planet, the overblown rhetoric stripped of nuance leaves me convinced that all this is little more than superficial posturing and hollow outraging, designed to dictate what others eat and police personal menus.

Studies by Nicoletta Pellegrini have shown that while consumption of animal products have a high environmental impact, vegans with their excessive reliance on processed substitutes for meat and dairy don’t necessarily show a significantly smaller carbon footprint. Besides bland purely vegan dishes are not half as fortifying or fulfilling as meat based cuisine which leads to a higher food intake which in turn defeats the purpose, herbivores keep harping about. It is why experts feel an ovo – vegetarian or flexitarian diet is more likely to produce environmental benefits.

I am not advocating indiscriminate consumption but it is easier to make healthier choices when one is not pressured or forced into it. After all, you are what you eat, and if your dietary decisions make you smug, sanctimonious and superior, perhaps a change in the menu might be in order.

This article was originally published in The New Indian Express.

A Divided Nation and its Devastating Consequences

It is no secret that the Divide and Rule policy was favoured by every invader and imperialist to have held sway over the Indian subcontinent. But they did not have to create rivalries or even exert themselves to exacerbate the teeming tensions between factious groups at each other’s throats on account of a host of petty reasons, because the differences were always there. Since its birth, India has been bitterly divided and progressively weakened without ever feeling like a single country. Not surprisingly, nothing changed after independence. It was hoped that with the dawn of a new age, Indians would set aside their traditional differences and live together peaceably. But that was not to be, then or now.

 The landowning classes and ambitious capitalists simply picked up the reins handed over by the British and went right back to exploiting the masses to safeguard the bastions of privilege. We were back to square one and seem to have made absolutely no progress to this day. If recent events are any indication, things have taken a considerable turn for the worse. Ordinarily, a tragedy of epic proportions or the threat of powerful outsiders may be counted on to unite Indians for mutual protection. But this is the age of social media where everyone has been provided with a loudspeaker to vent venom and spew hatred in a torrential outpouring that has resulted in battle lines being drawn, endless skirmishes turning nasty and absolutely no quarter given. Even cataclysmic events and unmitigated disasters are more likely to see us rend and tear at opponents real and imaginary as opposed to bringing us closer together.

This harsh reality was apparent in the ugly aftermath of the tragic demise of an angelic eight – year old, Asifa Bano. Even the most cynical and world weary of us, wept when the details of her passing came to light. Surely we would all join hands and make sure that her death wasn’t in vain by bringing her killers to task and implementing procedures to ensure that nobody else would share her fate in this land? But it wasn’t to be. If the rage and hate fuelled frenzy that has gripped this accursed nation is anything to go by, we are all dirty politicians at heart who will use a child’s murder to further our own mostly pointless ends. Every side, and there are many, seems to be populated with extremists who have become canny operators, skilled in the use of rhetoric to bolster their arguments.

Whatever happened to civility and the need to find a common ground? In these troubled times it would behove us to remember that even if we are passionately devoted to the side we have cast our lot with and are inclined to view everyone who doesn’t agree with every miserable point we swear by, as the enemy, there is always potential for fruitful collaboration provided we are willing to reach out across the void as opposed to being hell-bent on shoving dissenters into it. Simply making the effort could be the difference between slowly rebuilding a fractured country or a doomed one.

This article originally appeared in The New Indian Express.