A Soldier For Us

Just when I was thinking for an example to contextualize my concept of an ‘evolved man’, HIS name flashed like a godsend. I mean, in my make-believe world, he epitomizes an evolved, enlightened man. And why just me, for every woman who relates to his work in any way, he’s a soldier for her – guiding her, instilling self confidence and pride in her, beautifying her, making her strong, understanding her perspective, and most importantly, respecting her. The man is Gulzar – a lyricist, poet and film maker par excellence. Nobody understands a woman like he does.

The women in his work are not just pretty damsels in distress. They think, they speak their mind, they react, they are passionate - they love and they fight. They do not bend under societal pressure, they do not give in. And they do not justify their actions. Some of his powerful characters like Kusum from the movie Khusboo is a woman of substance who refuses to swallow her pride to get her childhood beloved back. Similarly Veeran from Machis is daring enough to become a terrorist to avenge atrocities against her family. Likewise Hu Tu Tu sees a disillusioned young girl taking on her corrupt politician mother. And the very popular Ijaazat, where both the leading ladies are strong and unique in their own way, voicing their opinion on life, marriage, babies and almost everything under the sun – they speak their mind and follow their heart.

So I believe it will be great if besides the everyday heroes in our lives, we also felicitate Gulzar Sahab for his role in subconsciously molding us into stronger women. His ideas take shape from everyday life scenarios, to which he adds his own sensibilities. And the final outcome of those ideas is such that in turn it guides us and becomes a reference point to be referred to in times of contemplation. So Gulzar Sahab it is for me. My soldier.

This post is a part of #Soldierforwomen in association with BlogAdda.com

Gulzar Sahab during one his book readings

Rush Hour at Dalhousie

Today morning, in the midst of browsing through random poetry sites, I came across this beautiful poem titled ‘Rush Hour at Dalhousie’ penned by Alexander Bodor. Alexander lives in Calgary, Canada, and in the last couple of years his work has been a part of quite a few interesting anthologies. When I contacted him through a poetry forum, he was gracious enough to allow me to share his work on my blog.

As the title suggests ‘Rush Hour at Dalhousie’ paints the picture of a busy weekday hour in Dalhousie (Calgary, Canada). What I found captivating about the poem was the subtle and measured use of words in depicting the chaos. There are no high flying words or forced imagery. The effect is so serene and soothing; it’s as if you are witnessing the street madness through a filter.

Here’s the poem, hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. Besides the poem, there's also a note messaged by the poet, enlightening about how this beautiful piece came together. Do share your thoughts on this.

Rush Hour at Dalhousie

Weekday rush,                                                                                          

Poem features in the anthology - Best Poets and Poems of 2012 by World Poetry Movement

an afternoon hour.
People’s traffic
A human crush.
East and West,
North and South.
Heading home,
heading out.
City in transit,
Bus or train.
In the making,
a human chain.
One train comes
another train goes.
Chain of people,
constantly in-tow.
Men and women,
Girls and boys.
Cramming in,
bunching out.
One by one,
Two by twos.
Exit and entrances,
filled with shoes.
Work or school,
young and old.
Destinations
yet to unfold.

Words from the Poet, Alexander Bodor: 

There is a c-train station 10 minutes from home that so happens to be named Dalhousie Station, as I live in the community of Dalhousie here in the north west quadrant of my city.

One afternoon I was inspired to write about the hustle and bustle that takes place every morning and afternoon at the train station precisely the same time each day of the week. I walked down to the platform, found myself a seat and took notes of what I saw and heard for the next hour or so. My mind was already working out lines and verses before leaving for home. By the time I arrived home, the first verse (four lines) was already created.

You see, when they printed the poem all the lines were combined instead of having the seven separate verses in original form. I was a little disappointed about it was printed, but I was more than excited to see my work in print.

Book Review : Behind the Silicon Mask by Eshwar Sundaresan

An interesting conversation with author Eshwar Sundaresan on Twitter (Courtesy : Westland Books) got me winning a copy of his latest novel - Behind the Silicon Mask. The book promptly arrived at my address a couple of days later and here I am sharing my two cents about it.

My copy (Courtesy: Westland Books)

Book Blurb:

A serial killer targeting immigrants.

A record-shattering snowstorm that aids his cold mission.

A community of 200 Indian IT professionals under a siege.

A rapacious corporate employer, an unflinching deadline and a boss willing to risk anything.

A tale-twist in every living room and bedroom.

A bleak, fateful Friday that brings together all these elements and changes lives forever.

Niether Partho Sen nor Varun Belthangady is aware that his life is in danger. There is one man who can save them yet - Detective Farley of the Milwaukee Police Department. But will the serial killer prove to clever for him?

My two cents: 

Set in snowstorm-struck bitterly cold Milwaukee, USA, Behind the Silicon Mask revolves around the lives of a group of software professionals working on an onsite project for their Bangalore based company. On a fateful Friday morning, as everyone is gearing up for a particularly cold and restrictive weekend ahead, the news of a serial killer and his probable future targets is splashed on the local news channel by an overly enthusiastic TV reporter. Within minutes, hell breaks loose. As the city prepares to shield itself from the coming onslaught of snowstorm Super Susan, the local police have little time on their hands to track down the serial killer and prevent further harm. Adding to the sense of emergency is an important software application that must be delivered before the weekend. What follows is a laborious effort by all the characters to put the drifting pieces of their lives - personal and professional - together.

But in this pacy thriller of a plot, there is more to what meets the eye. In the chaotic aftermath of the discovery of a serial killer in their midst, our protagonists have their inner demons to fight, their pasts and present to reconcile to, old chapters to close and new beginnings to begin, but only and only if they survive the serial killer who has a full proof plan in place to hunt down his next targets - targets who took all his happiness away. This plot and the many sub plots converge in an action packed showdown, in a room where lives are lost and fates are sealed.

In an otherwise interesting narrative, what is particularly distracting is the number of characters and their job profiles. There are so many of them, that other than the significantly visible few, I kept forgetting who is who and who does what. Plus the really heavy tech jargon used in between also brings down the interest quotient. You know it is a techie writing the book alright. However on the plus side,  for those uninitiated, the book can give a fair amount of insight into how a software company works and what goes on behind the cubicles of those super smart techies sitting in new-age swanky glass buildings.

During our Twitter conversation, Eshwar mentioned that it took him nearly 10 years and several drafts to pin down the plot of the novel and chisel it down to its present edgy shape. For an ex-corporate nobody (as he defines himself), it indeed is a laudable effort to leave behind a secure job (despite the pitfalls, the fragile corporate egos, and the many rifts) and set out to explore the inner calling, which, for Eshwar, was writing. With around 300 pages, neatly packed in 14 chapters, Behind the Silicon Mask is a thrilling read, and can be read at one go.

More about the book:

Publisher: Westland Books
Genre: Fiction/Thriller

ISBN: 978-93-82618-39-3

A Soldier in My Life

Honour the soldiers in your life. Write about them, commemorate them, asked Blogadda of all bloggers on their forum. I came across their post on my Facebook feed almost a week ago, gave it a cursory go through and dismissed it right away – I had nothing to write on this, no opinion to give, no thoughts to share. There was no soldier in my life, no valiant man who particularly stood out in the way he behaved with women or more specifically stood up for them when need be. End of story.

But the words and the idea got stuck in some corner of the mind, and the regular reminders appearing in the Facebook feed did their bit too – to get me thinking and analyzing the men in my life - men who were family, colleagues, friends,  acquaintances and also the known strangers, whom I know but don’t really know.

Most men I know are closet chauvinists, I thought. They will speak about gender equality, opine about the many prevalent biases, talk about women liberation and all the relevant fancy stuff, but when it came to applying the grand ideas in their lives they will stick to the tried and tested norms of society, and if not this, they will feign indifference. 

And this train of thought led me to my father. Yes, father. Rhetoric it will sound, as most women claim their dads are the soldiers in their lives, but I have a different angle to share. My father comes from a family of hardliners - a family where fun and freedom for women meant taking care of the family. He was born and brought up in a small village in Punjab and no matter how long a time he has spent in metro cities within India and abroad, some part of him will always remain a conservative, orthodox village lad. BUT, he has a come a long way, he has evolved and tries his best to let his daughter BE. He has given me and my mother all the freedom in the world to do whatever we fancy. He has given me freedom of expression and the liberty to live on my own in a ruthless city like Delhi. Of course, there are limitations in his thoughts and the way he views a woman’s world, but I believe he deserves credit for what he was and what he has come to be.  We argue a lot over ideological differences, political debates, and the many social trends. There are times when I hate him for his orthodox views but there are also times when I am so proud of him, for trying to understand. Both of us love old Bollywood music and quiz each other on Retro Bollywood trivia. We love watching the movie Jab We Met together and mimicking the funny dialogues from the movie. 

And however hard I try I cannot imagine doing any of these fun things in any of my paternal uncles’ homes. They still remain the real world chauvinists – with their belief in the superiority of men folk going as strong as ever.

So, despite my cynicism about this whole soldier for woman thing, in my heart of hearts I know that my father is the soldier in my life, maybe not as valiant as I would want him to be, but a somewhat strong soldier nonetheless. Thank you Papa, for being there.

This post is a part of #Soldierforwomen in association with BlogAdda.com

My father, exploring his new phone