Sunday, April 10, 2011

Between Cup and Lip: The Story of a Couple Who Wanted to Kiss


So, when they met after a gap of three years, what they decided and wanted to do was to kiss each other.

Though it was not a chance meeting, the circumstances in which they met after this gap was not conducive for a kiss. You may ask, why could not two people kiss each other when they meet after a long time? Kissing is not prohibited in this city or country.

They had decided to meet in a café near the museum. But both of them were impatient like the blazing summer sun. The stipulated time to meet was two in the afternoon. She had things to tend at home. And he had a very important seminar to attend.

Housewives and high profile corporate executives are in way lead the same kind of life. They are bored to their bones and at the same time when they review the things they find that they don’t have any reason to feel that their life is boring from any angle. Things keep them engaged.

Housewives are busy because they have awful team leaders at home. The assumed team leaders and other people go out as per their schedule and the housewives are expected to look after everything. Though they are equipped with several machines and servants, they need to involve in everything. They hold the key to everything and literally they keep the keys of everything around their waist and a lock too.

Corporate executives, if they are really high profile, find the worst enemies in their team heads. The bosses are always good (or supposedly good) because they run a company successfully as there are hardworking executives. When the success comes these bosses take away all the credit. The executives travel all over the world; develop gastric problems by eating erratically from different time and cultural zones. But they hold the key to the success, if not around their waist right in the middle of their groin.

Desperate people are desperate in a similar fashion. They drive rashly, they shout at people, if not they become deeply silent. The silence is so imploding that the whole world seems to have set into the mute mode. It is like watching the footage of some natural calamity again and again in a television which is kept in a glass cage or seen from a distance. You know everything about it but you don’t hear the new commentaries.

So desperately the woman comes out of her home leaving things to the hands of a maid servant whom she deems to be incapable of doing anything perfectly. The man somehow finishes his highly sophisticated lunch program as if he were going through a medical checkup, with anxiety and terror, while keeping a smile on his lips throughout the lunch. Skipping the attempts of some Korean delegates to speak to him further on the project that they were just discussing at the lobby before the lunch was served he rushes out to the streets and jumps into a taxi.

When you are ready to meet a man, however busy you are you take special care to make yourself up. You look at the mirror twice. You adjust your sari in such way that your curves are concealed while revealing their full potentials. You don’t want others to peep into your cleavage but you definitely want the man whom you are going to meet to take notice of it. You want your fragrance to be known by the man. You want the man to know how tenderly you have prepared yourself for this meeting.

But a man is not like that. He is just rash. He knows that he perspires profusely in a taxi, which has a conked off air conditioner and stinking seats. He does not mind to eat an additional mint to ward off the smells that he acquired while swallowing his lunch. He may absent mindedly roll his deodorant on his wrists or under his shirt the moment he feels that the stink of his own body becomes too much for himself. Then he may light a cigarette while thinking about you.

As they are desperate, in more or less the same way they reach the same spot at the same time, well twenty minutes before the stipulated time. The place they had decided was not right in the middle of the street, in front of a cinema. It was an in a coffee shop near by. Hence, the romantic feel of a meeting after a gap of three years becomes too realistic and they stand in the middle of the pavement right in front of the movie hall like two marooned sailors looking out and waving a flag at another vessel passing by the horizon. Their minds have already reached out to the other, saved him or her. They have already taken her or him into the arms and have kissed deeply several times right on the lips and then into the mouths.

But nothing happens. They stand in the middle of the sidewalk like two stupid souls accidentally meeting outside their prescribed graves. They smile like two patients who have just got discharged from the same hospital where they had been treated for the same disease called anemia. Their faces go red first and then paper white. They tremble and shiver like two dogs caught in an unexpected rain. Then they grin at each other, extend their hands to have a formal shake hand (which they had been disapproving to do ever since they connected themselves almost a year back over some social networking site). She had once told him while chatting that when they met first time after the gap of three years they should never touch each other formally. He also thought the same at the same time and had sent a smilie back as an answer.

But they shook hands and then proceeded to the café without uttering a word. Everything was happening as if they were enacting a script they had learned by heart long back. They walked silently, entered the cool zone of the café and looked at the farthest corners so that they could steal some private moments. To their dismay, so many desperate souls were on prowl in the city that day and they had already invaded all the farthest corners in all the available decent cafes in the city.

So they stand at the counter, find places at the high chairs and order for two cups of coffee. The boy who is in the red uniform with a black apron mans the counter and from nowhere he looks like a boy who could do such jobs. They look at the guitar hanging from the wall of the café and think that the boy must be a musician by night. And they think the same thing at the same time and the smiles that they exchange the message that they have been thinking the same to each other. The boy takes their order and the slip that comes out of the printer is taken out mechanically by his nimble hands and goes automatically behind the counter where a fabricated table with coffee machines in place.

Boys move around as if they were apparitions while they sit looking at each other with all those passions vying to take upper hand in their minds and the reason chiding them to behave. So in the silent acts of passion and taming, their lips quiver and they smile at eacj other and like any other housewife and an executive of a big company do during those occasions lower their shades from their heads across their eyes. They hide from each other by the darkened goggles and let the rest of the faces speak to each other through the twitching of muscles and minuscule hairs seen highlighted by the yellow light of the café now further deepened by the color of the shades over their eyes.

The stereo in the café belts out some song which many other people in the café seem to be enjoying thoroughly. But for them it sounds like some hopeless DJ playing a trick on the grooving couples in a dingy dance floor in an ill reputed discotheque. Then again they smile and man finally asks about the promises that they have made each other while their stolen moments of chatting. She tells him that she does not remember anything of those promises and she laughs at her own joke. He too smiles and the smile looks very pathetic now on his face. Soon her face also turns serious and now they think about getting out of the place.

He needs to catch a flight in another four hours. She promises to drop him at the airport. But there is a problem. His luggage is in the hotel room and also he needs to sign certain documents with the local company which has hosted the meeting. Besides, he cannot breach the protocol of his company by deserting his colleagues in a hotel lobby and going alone to the airport with a damsel in love. So they decide to make it out in the car. One kiss. One kiss. Just to keep the promise.

She decides to drive him around the city within the one hour available in his hands. They get out of the café without heeding much to collect the change from the nimble fingered boy. They walk out and she leads him to the park a few yards away from the café. They get into the car. Like the café, the car interior also provides them with a make belief world of protection and perfection

With unprecedented driving skills that are shown only by desperate people at desperate moments she takes the car out of the parking lot and drives into the streets where the sun beats down its heat with some kind of vengeance. But form inside the car, the light outside look tamed and bearable though they find the people wrinkling their muscles around their noses to ward off heat. Many of them are drinking water. Many foreigners walked like creatures without shadows.

First she takes a turn to the right and after driving for a few minutes she reaches to a police station and smiling at him, she reverses the car and enters into another lane. She drives on and they were now desperate to fulfill their promise. She drives to left then to right and wherever they stopped they felt the people of the city came around the car to peep inside just to know things are happening as per the rule there.

They drive through the main road. At the traffic junction, street urchins come around the car to sell different things. After driving for half an hour towards the south of the city, she stops under a tree and turns her towards him. He too turns his head. Before they could do anything, someone knocks at the window and asks them to move from there as a huge truck wants to take a right turn and their car obstructs its smooth passage. She revs up the engine as if all those bad words came to her mind at that moment were transferred into the engine through the acceleration of gas and moves the car towards the infinity of people and vehicles milling in the next turn.

The watches in their wrists show the same time and they look at each other as if they were destined to be hanged with in five minutes. He tries to reach out his hand to her hand at the steering wheel and suddenly he finds two police men riding parallel to the car in their motor bike. Shocked by the sudden intervention of the state in the vicinity of their private life, he with a shudder takes his hand away from her.

His mobile rings and he speaks into it. The color of his face changes. He looks at her and tells her that he should be dropped somewhere near the hotel where the seminar is being conducted. She without questioning why he should be off right then, speeds up the car towards the hotel. The message from the phone disturbs him. Something has gone terribly wrong in the memorandum of understanding. The local company is not ready to sign it with his company. They want to clarify certain points and he should be there in another ten minutes to save the situation.

He went on explaining things. She drove with a smile. The slanting rays of sun seeped into the car and they brightened her face from the right side. He could see the evening sun at the tip of her nose from that angle. She was still smiling but he could not see what her eyes were saying as they were covered by the brown shades.

She stopped the car at the porch of the five star hotel where the seminar was on. She, without letting him know glanced around whether her husband by any chance could come there for some reason as they frequented this hotel’s restaurants and bars by the weekends. None of her acquaintances was there. She sighed and looked sternly straight out of the windscreen. Then something happened in her. She turned to him and pushed her right hand into his hands which he had been holding out impatiently for sometime.

See you soon, she said. Yes, he said and rushed at the main door of the hotel where a tall man in royal uniform was holding the panels opened for him for some time.

She pressed on the gas. The car gathered momentum. She fished out her mobile from the purse and called, “Laxmi Bai….aaj dinner keliye aaloo parantha banao. And make some kheer too.”

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Anna Hazare as Gandhi and We as Sharad Pawar(s)- 100 ways in which we corrupt ourselves


This morning I woke up and found out that Anna Hazare’s fasting unto Death against corruption has shaken the conscience of the middle class Indian. The newspapers say that the Indian middle class is up in non-violent arms against corruption. Are we really? I thought of jotting down hundred ways in which we in our personal lives practice corruption. Shall we able to do away with these following corruptions from our personal lives? If so we build a better India. If not we are doomed to be just newspaper readers and cheerless cheer leaders. As a semi-cynic I couldn’t have escaped this thought of seeing this anti-corruption sentiment of the middle class as another craving for another spectacle just after the world cup cricket. But let us think about the following points:



1. Refusing to take a deep look at the bathroom mirror when we face it for the first time in a day, and to contemplate on the question, ‘Who are you?’
2. Keeping your Tullu water pump on for hours even after you know that your water tank is over flowing.
3. We refuse to believe that anything excessively consumed by us is a way of denying others a chance to even taste the same.
4. Taking bath in a bathtub when you are sure that your neighbor is sitting before a dry tap praying for some miracle to happen.
5. Cleaning our house and throwing the garbage right in front of others’ homes.
6. Throwing the garbage from the car’s window at the desolate patches, which we also know that would soon turn into a dump yard. We just don’t care about the people living in the vicinity.
7. Ogling at the neighbor’s guests and pretending that we did not even hear a whimper when the neighbor is in real trouble.
8. In the name of religion, blaring remixed bhajans in Bollywood tunes into others’ ears.
9. In the name of cow protection, throwing the left over food in front of others’ houses. We expect the cows to eat them until the food get rotten.
10. Writing poetry on the ‘death of a pet dog’ when you see a dog run over by a car lying before your neighbor’s doorstep and rotting. We just don’t care about burying that corpse.
11. Deliberately scratching on the body of a new car bought by one of your neighbors.
12. Fighting over parking lots. Earth doesn’t belong to anyone. Tsunami has proven it twice before us.
13. Speeding up and honking horns when you know that there is not an inch for the other vehicles to move forward.
14. Feeling a secret happiness over the distress of those people who couldn’t jump the traffic light before it turned red.
15. Thronging around an accident site and enjoy the thrill of somebody’s pain and gore and doing nothing to alleviate the victim’s pain.
16. Refusing to be a witness to anything.
17. Jumping queues.
18. Taking advantage of gender. Some women jump queues, especially when they are dressed ‘modern’ and wear a pair of shades, thinking that their ‘class’ would deter people from complaining.
19. Speaking loudly over phone while traveling in public transport facilities.
20. Behaving and proving that you are many times better than others in the places like airports and railway stations.
21. Trying to prove that you are unlucky that’s why you had to catch a train; you just had missed your flight (Spice Jet) to Mumbai.
22. Stopping in the middle of the road and exchanging words with your friends sitting in the other vehicle, as if the roads were your father’s property.
23. Refusing to pay toll tax at toll bridges citing that you are somebody’s somebody.
24. Flaunting the symbol of Police in your number plate thinking that you could get away with your misdeeds.
25. Writing ‘Press’ on your wind screens, when your relationship with the press is your daily dose of newspaper reading.
26. Claiming yourself to be a doctor or an advocate when you are just a property dealer.
27. Walking along the aisle of an aeroplane in flight and speak about your achievements in your life to a friend sitting in the 32nd row. You don’t know you look like a hawker who sells one ball point pen, one screw driver, one Hanuman Chalisa and five rubber bands for ten rupees in a private bus.
28. Letting your children play wherever they want, especially when you are in an airport or flight. You think that your child is the next Shah Rukh Khan or Aishwarya Rai. But others need not necessarily feel so.
29. Occupying both the hand rests in a flight seat.
30. We think that middle class women don’t do rash driving. They do. They claim their equality with men in this.
31. Being abusive on road.
32. Talking over mobile phone while driving and think that you are very smart.
33. Showing the middle finger to your elders when they object your rash driving.
34. Fishing out your mobile phone and talking to some invisible power center when you are caught by police for violating traffic rules.
35. Escaping punishment by giving a few hundred rupees to a policeman.
36. A policeman receiving bribe.
37. Any kind of bribe giving and taking.
38. Refusing to attend clients and their grievances when you are in a position to help them.
39. Pretending that the government has given you a job to earn salary and believing in it.
40. Refusing to work before and after the office hours.
41. Extending lunch hour into lunch hours.
42. Playing cards or other kinds of games in the office premises.
43. Using the government facilities for personal purposes.
44. Asking for a work of art against an article written in a hardly read newspaper.
45. Gallerists refusing to give the works back to the artists.
46. Gallerists sending out bouncing checks to the artists.
47. Artists trying to pretend themselves as cutting edge when they are in fact traditional or modern.
48. Artists trying to speak in accented English while they know that they had spent their half of the life speaking their mother tongue.
49. Artists pretending to be gays when they are in a gallery run by gay couples.
50. Artists taking money in cash (if they pay tax, it is fine).
51. Gallerists paying artists in suitcases and designer clothes stuffed with banknotes (Those good old days look so remote and sepia toned).
52. Attending seminars and pretending that they understand everything.
53. Writing in convoluted English to make others believe that anything made difficult commands respect from the readers.
54. Not questioning authorities thinking that it would deter our progress in job or profession.
55. Accepting offers which we are sure that we are incapable of performing to the client’s satisfaction.
56. Lobbying in the name of culture.
57. Calling names to the ones who blow the whistle.
58. Believing too much in Milton who has said, ‘they also serve who stand and stare’.
59. Not going for casting vote.
60. Refusing to give the voters’ id card to the deserving people.
61. Gallerists refusing to acknowledge critics and curators.
62. Art teachers specialized in miniature paintings, terracotta sculptures and folk art running special courses on contemporary art and drawing salaries without any prick of conscience.
63. Using public platforms for private ends.
64. We don’t allow untrained pilots to fly planes. We don’t allow unskillful doctors to operate us. But we allow untrained art historians to teach our artists.
65. Drawing salary for thirty years for doing nothing to the students.
66. Hailing below average humorists as world class graphic novelists and artists.
67. Considering white skin as the best thing ever happened in the world.
68. Considering anything from outside your country as truth and best.
69. Artists from moderate origins smelling wine before they drink it and at times refuse it as if they were born in a castle in Scotland.
70. Businessmen calling themselves art experts.
71. Tired artists becoming Biennale organizers and refusing to be transparent and tell the world how they use up the government funds.
72. Refusing to consider bikers, cycle wallahs, rickshaw wallahs and so on as human beings.
73. Pretending to be intellectuals.
74. Enjoying David Dhavan movies secretly and talking about Iranian movies in public.
75. Covering Mills and Boon books with Arundhati Roy’s or Noam Chomsky’s book cover.
76. Feeling guilty after extra marital affairs (if you do it, don’t feel guilty).
77. Torturing the partner during the divorce process.
78. Teasing women.
79. Refusing to treat old people with grace and dignity.
80. Old art critics wearing young girls’ clothes.
81. Eating while talking over phone.
82. Spending unusual amount of time on pornographic sites and prevent children from even looking at Modigliani painting.
83. Making partners to act out what you had seen in your net during the day.
84. Being a male chauvinist in public and private spaces.
85. Being a female chauvinist in public and private spaces.
86. Speaking in Hindi to dark skinned artists thinking that dark skinned people don’t speak English.
87. Spitting all over.
88. Speaking when it is not necessary.
89. Keeping silence when it is not necessary.
90. Refusing to show discipline in public and private life while showing a lot of love for the country.
91. Giving and taking dowry.
92. Spending too much on marriages.
93. Refusing to believe that a society without charity is possible. That means one needs to strive for equal rights and justice.
94. Flooding the roads on week days in the name of religion.
95. Not respecting others’ religious sentiments.
96. Cleaning roads for the religious leaders to walk on and littering the same with the food and plastic waste once the leaders pass.
97. Trying to behave cool when you are not really cool.
98. Forgetting love.
99. Forgetting sex out of love and vice versa.
100. Helping to establish Brahminism even in the field of art (one good thing about this is that former sudras could have membership in this newly formed brahminical structure. In religious brahminism, it is not possible).

Monday, April 4, 2011

Opening Shots of Collective Nouns by Manjunath Kamath- A Photo Feature

(Collective Nouns, Manjunath Kamath at Sakshi Gallery, Mumbai)

(Display view)

(The Pregnant Bed)

(Foot in the Mouth)

(one of the paintings on the display)

(Priyashree Patodia and Usha Gawde)

(Jitendra Bowni, Babu Eshwar Prasad, Murali Cheeroth, Vivek Vilasini, JohnyML)




(G.R.Iranna and Manjunath Kamath)

(Bhavna Kakkar and Vivek Vilasini)

(Veer Munshi and Yashodhara Dalmia)

(Jitendra Bowni)


(Sanjay and Valay Shinde)

(Chintan Upadhyay)

(Sudarshan Shetty)

(Geetha Mehra and Kanika)

(Manjunath Kamath and Somu Desai)




(JohnyML and G.R.Iranna)

(Mr.Janghiani and Qaroon Thapar)

(Rajendra of Art Journal)

(Sanjeev Khandekar, JohnyML and Abhijeet Tamhane)

(Abhijeet Tamhane and Sanjeev Khandekar)

(Khan Shyam Dasgupta)

(Krishna Nayak)

(Murali Cheeroth)

(Sudarshan Shetty)

(Vaishali Narkar)

(Anant Joshi)

(Veer Munshi)

(Geetha Mehra)

(Babu Eshwar Prasad)

(Nandesh)

(Medha Prabhakar and Abhijeet Tamhane)

(Manjunath Kamath and Yashwant Deshmukh)

(Manjunath Kamath and Sunaina Anand of Art Alive Gallery)

(Usha Gawde)

(Sunil Gawde and Gopal Mirchandani)

(Vidya Kamath)

(Gopal Mirchandani)

(Chintan Upadhyay)