Of facebooking and twittering

A friend’s scathing comment who questioned if my blog was dead has provoked me to write this. No, my blog isn’t dead. No, I haven’t succumbed to the demands of lethargy and laziness. No, my priorities haven’t changed either. Oh and no, I certainly haven’t forgotten my password (don’t be surprised...this is a serious problem given the miniscule size of my memory).



That made me thinking what exactly is the problem? Or, rather, is there really a problem?


So, what do I do all day? Apart from my classes which go on almost every day till 5 p.m. (though we have intermittent breaks in between that I exclusively devote to Facebook and Twitter), and the time I give to sleeping, eating, reading and writing (in order of importance), I’m pretty much free. No, wait. I also devote some few hours to Zjuvi (my laptop) and surf the net (though I have intermittent breaks in between that I exclusively devote to Facebook and Twitter). And then I spend some time surfing the net on my cell phone, when my laptop is getting its required energy from its charger. I check my mail, mostly (though I have intermittent breaks in between that I exclusively devote to Facebook and Twitter). Yeah, my life is pretty much caught in the net (pun intended).


OK. So, now I guess even a seventh grader will know what has been affecting my blogging frequency. Facebook and Twitter have conquered Blogger. What a shame! Or is it?


Facebook was a product of Mark Zuckerberg, of what was and is still being seen as revolutionary idea that gave social networking a whole new role to play, in 2004. I’m not sure if I even knew about its existence back then. May be because I was too busy on MySpace (pun intended). In 2006 came Twitter. I’m sure I knew when this was in the news, thanks to all political big-wigs and celebrities tweeting away to their success and failure. But I wasn’t a part of it because I was too busy Orkut-ing.


Well, the point I’m trying to make here, obviously, is the spreading and growing domination of social networking on the lives of people who have access to them. And globally, that is a large number. This includes not just Facebook or Twitter but also loads of other such sites that offer networking for complete introvert individuals who may have been dumb-struck and tongue-tied in front of beautiful women but suddenly find themselves powerful to ask her out in the virtual world. That power comes from the fact that it’s a virtual world. That it’s not real.


Chatting and e-dating is not a new concept anymore. In fact, I suspect it’s not as “cool” as Facebook or Twitter now. All these social networking sites (that includes Digg, Hi5, My Space) offer its users the opportunity to express with utmost freedom what they otherwise would not have been able to, in the “real world”. It allows other people on your “friend” lists to “like” or “dislike” it, the list that is ever-growing. I know people on Facebook with 678 “friends”. I wonder if they’ve met even half of them. I would term him/her the ultimate social being.


Besides, words like “poke”, “like”, “share”, “tweet”, “re-tweet”, “DM” (short for Direct Message) have acquired a new meaning. Especially the word “like”. Someone updated his status as thus: [User Name] is divorced! followed, of course, by that unforgettable non-smiley face : (.
The update had almost 30 “likes”. That was probably the morale booster the user needed to feel good after being victim to a marriage gone wrong! I don’t think he would have wanted to talk about this to anyone. But, he logs in on Facebook, updates his status, and invariably, in the process, announces this drastic change in his life to over 100 “friends” and “followers”.
In Twitterland, you don’t have “friends”. You have “followers”. It bugs me to end. For a proud, arrogant narcissistic woman that I am, I don’t think my ego will ever allow me to “follow” people, most of whom I’ve never even met. And yet, Twitter made me bow. Hats off!


So, the question really is how much are we dictated by them. Facebook and Twitter are not entirely the home of the jobless Internet freak. Almost every company, publishing house, magazine, website, newspaper, author, book, restaurant, car manufacturer, organization has its own Facebook or Twitter account, just so to keep a track on their “fans” and “followers”. For celebrities on Twitter, it is a way to reach out to their fans. Quite literally. Or so they claim.


It all comes down to what you use these sites for and how much they affect your daily, routine life. Who’s your boss, really?


As far as I am concerned, I’ll ask my “followers” and let you know. Maybe they’ll even “like” me for having asked them this question, in the first place.

The Silent Indian National Anthem

Please stand up for the National Anthem

Draupadi re-visited

My first experience of watching a play in Bangalore and I’m glad it turned out good. In hindsight, the last time I saw a play was two years back during our college fest, when we were forced to watch the rehearsals lest we lose our attendance.

Well, it’s not that I’m not interested in watching plays. Just that I’m too lazy to brush off the rust of complacency that has formed around me ever since I started reading plays. It’s a shame I never saw a play when I was in Delhi, apparently the hub of drama and theater. Whenever I got a chance, something or the other came along to prevent me from watching the play (my own laziness being the prime reason, I confess). This time, too, I nearly missed watching this one due to multiple reasons I wouldn’t want to dwell on. Let’s just say we somehow made it to the play and enjoyed it thoroughly.

Here’s something about the play first before I begin my critique:

Name of the play:           Draupadi—Will my spirit live on?

Language:                       English

Duration:                        90 minutes

Directed by:                   Tina Johnson and Shivani Pasrich

Music by:                       Shubha Mudgal

Costumes by:                 Ritu Kumar

Sets:                              Aman Nath

Venue:                          Chowdiah Memorial Hall, Malleswaram

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Synopsis:

Centuries have gone by since the Mahabharat war, yet Draupadi is still here. Stuck between heaven and earth, roaming the streets and pondering her fate and her choices, her only confidant is Lord Krishna. She tries to resolve with him why women must continue to suffer as she had in the past. Krishna, the orchestrator of fate, leads her to Maaya - a woman of today, who has suffered much abuse at the hands of society. A distraught Maaya attempts suicide, but Draupadi stops her and offers her help in return for a favor.

Maaya treads through her life in Draupadi's footsteps, and in the end she too must make a choice- will she choose revenge or resilience? Will she be Draupadi's salvation? Will Krishna be able to address centuries old smoldering wounds?

Source: http://www.indianstage.in/events/draupadi.html

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Choosing the Mahabharata as the core of a story in any form (play, prose or poetry) is always an intelligent yet risky thing to do. Intelligent because, even after centuries have passed since the writing of the great epic, it still offers multiple aspects to explore and re-visit, Draupadi’s humiliation and the great war that followed being the central theme of this play. Risky because the audience, it is assumed, already knows the entire plot. Hence, one can’t really mess around with the basic structure of the story. So, it’s a challenge to tell a story whose plot is already known, and re-tell it in a manner that’s new, different, and contextualize it in the contemporary context. In so far as this play is concerned, the challenge has been met with much alacrity and finesse.

As the synopsis suggested, the play revolves around the spirit of Draupadi (played gracefully by Shivani Pasrich) who has been cursed of wandering between heaven and hell as a punishment for having caused the Kurukshetra War and can achieve moksha only if she rescues a woman Maaya (played by Charu Shankar) from being similarly victimized by patriarchal forces of society. Though the modern context is entirely different, the sense of victimhood is largely the same. Pasrich, who is a trained Odissi dancer and has also conceptualized the play, has incorporated dance sequences within the play at right intervals to add the required musical touch to it. Mudgal’s music is easily recognizable and her powerful voice fits in well with the situational demands of the play.

It’s interesting how the scriptwriters have de-constructed the character of Lord Krishna, the giver of wisdom. In the epic, Krishna is the lone supporter of Paanchali throughout her period of trials and imparts wisdom from time to time to her and the Pandavas. In the play, Krishna (played by Dilip Shankar) is shown in multiple roles (a sweeper, a sariseller, a wanderer, and even a lawyer) who enrages Draupadi and instructsher to help Maaya, a woman of today, who is in a similar situation of complete victimization and exploitation, if she wants moksha. Some of the best, most dramatic and memorable speeches are reserved for Krishna and he plays the role with extreme brilliance, spontaneity and witty humor. Some lines from the Bhagvad Gita are timeless. And these are cleverly re-iterated in the play. For instance,  Let not the fruits of action be thy motive

The play succeeds in conveying the message of how an individual is responsible for his/her own consequence that is directly related to his/her actions. If Draupadi represents the woman who was wronged and humiliated, she is also revenge personified. Her anger, her pride at her lineage and her persistent desire for vengeance are traits of her personality that are equally given importance in the play that eventually prevent Maaya from repeating the historical mistakes that Draupadi committed—fuel the fire for another war. Ninety minutes is a deceptively long time for a play that has the task of not only refreshing the audience's mind with what Draupadi underwent mythologically but also depict Maaya's character in a similar context. The play has a fast pace, and rightly so. It's a thumbs up from me.

Pictures courtesy India Stage

Rating: **** (4 stars)



Fiction Writing (Part 4?)

Maybe I should start a separate blog exclusively for fiction writing.

Here's one I wrote as a part of my assignment. It was expected to be a real-life observation. I ended up writing a fictional account. Lol!

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This is a lead that describes a woman, who has been living with a life-threatening disease, and the last hours before her death, and her conversation with her son.

She looked too content to be in a hospital. Her face had an expression that seemed to convey a sense of calmness that one experiences on a quiet Sunday morning at the beach. It was hard to believe that this woman was going to die in a few hours. It was surreal.

Her son, frail in body and appearance, entered the ward with a large packet of fresh kiwis. He had a tired look on his face, which he tried to hide by picking out the fruits from the packet and laying them neatly on the plate, in the most nonchalant manner possible.

“So you finally bought them, my son?” the woman said, in a laid back fashion. “That’s one thing less from the list I gave you.”

She was referring to the list of things she wanted to do before she died. Her expressions and voice were so casual and mundane that anyone would have thought she was referring to a list of the month’s grocery items.

“The list is too small, Mom. You still have to give me five more,” the son said.

It was difficult to guess who was deceiving whom.

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Feedback expected :-)

Of observations (not necessarily as a reporter)

This may have been the crappiest, wackiest, stupidest, craziest and laziest assignment I wrote (But I bet I can't beat Gaurav on the "crazy" part). 

Anyways, the Reporting and Writing class, undertaken by Prof. Ron Feemster, was today focused on observation and how crucial are observation skills for a good reporter. So, the assignment was to spread out, spot any location within the campus and observe the sight, smell, sounds, colours, temperature, heat, cold, anything and everything at all that you observe and write what about it in about 15 minutes. 

Sounds easy? It isn't really. 

Here's what I wrote. After writing this, I have realized how productive (or unproductive) a span of 15 minutes can be depending on how you decide it to be.

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The persistent sound of the squirrel made me look at the trees. I could hear it but it took me a while to finally spot one sitting on one of the branches. When I tried going near it, it hurried away until it became invisible again. But it never stopped squeaking. This noise was temporarily disturbed by the shrill noise of the horn of the yellow BGS school bus that sped by the adjacent road. When I tried distracting myself from the squeaking noise of the squirrel, which had emerged once again once the sound of the bus had died, I could hear the sound of an air-conditioner. I looked around to find one and walked further towards the college building. I probably should have looked where I was walking. But the bite of a big, fat, red ant reminded me sharply that I had stepped on an ant-hill. My shriek, that followed, beat all other noises and sounds around-the squirrel's squeak and the birds' chirps. The driver of the next bus on the adjacent road probably heard it too. Even the sight of a beautiful, red and green butterfly that dared enough to hover near me could not make me forget the pain.
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And I'm expected to be a good "reporter"....