2 years later me and CIEFL, now Tea Flu

and this is my goodbye to this place.
i will never again return to this pink CIEFL
this place to which i probably never really belonged to.
and it saddens me that i now never will.
the 25 minute train ride.
the innumerable minutes spent waiting for the train at sitaphalmandi.
friends kind and loving enough to walk with me till station everyday.

the tank
the tank on which all sat at the edge, never in the middle.
and the tank which probably created a few communities and
to be fair, intimidated many others.
the mess, with its plastic chairs and food i missed on the weekends,
only because i could afford to.

friends made on the first day,
ships maintained throughout.
in spite of the mind numbing GB s.
in spite of 'ideological' differences.
in spite of .....

and here is to the women of CIEFL.
the most unnerving, tongue twisting kinds,
who make me stammer,
and fall in love.
to the women of CIEFL
the stronger race.
goodbye all the girls i liked
and could never say anything to
goodbye to you all to whom i could say something to,
goodbye again


and soon it will be that last day,
that last ticket, saying sitaphalmandi to begumpet.
the last familiar nod from the man at the ticket counter.
the last cig smoked on tank
the last eye contact
the last look
the last visit to sagar
the last paper soap used...LOL
the last groan
the last "oh god i hate her"

the last of the carefree days
the last of the free world
the last of this weird unique isolated place hidden amongst trees
and inhabited by the strangest people,
who strangely are not strange to each other

the strangeness that is CIEFL
this oasis in the middle of this thing called real world,
which one cant find, after leaving through its gates.
leaves a hole in the soul,
now which we will try to
fill by looking elsewhere
for this place called CIEFL

and fail

till we return once again


return to pink CIEFL.


2 years later....I still know I cant return ever again.
The last footesteps taken by my mojri clad (floater-clad, osho chappals-clad) feet were when I left through the end-gates.

For I now wear leather.

Goodbye to all that was good

and this is my goodbye to this place.
i will never again return to this pink CIEFL
this place to which i probably never really belonged to.
and it saddens me that i now never will.
the 25 minute train ride.
the innumerable minutes spent waiting for the train at sitaphalmandi.
friends kind and loving enough to walk with me till station everyday.

the tank
the tank on which all sat at the edge, never in the middle.
and the tank which probably created a few communities and
to be fair, intimidated many others.
the mess, with its plastic chairs and food i missed on the weekends,
only because i could afford to.

friends made on the first day,
ships maintained throughout.
inspite of the mind numbing GB s.
inspite of 'ideological' differences.
inspite of .....

and here is to the women of CIEFL.
the most unnerving, tongue twisting kinds,
who make me stammer,
and fall in love.
to the women of CIEFL
the stronger race.
goodbye all the girls i liked
and could never say anything to
goodbye to you all to whom i could say something to,
goodbye again


and soon it will be that last day,
that last ticket, saying sitaphalmandi to begumpet.
the last familiar nod from the man at the ticket counter.
the last cig smoked on tank
the last eye contact
the last look
the last visit to sagar
the last paper soap used...LOL
the last groan
the last "oh god i hate her"

the last of the carefree days
the last of the free world
the last of this weird unique isolated place hidden amongst trees
and inhabited by the strangest people,
who strangely are not strange to each other

the strangeness that is CIEFL
this oasis in the middle of this thing called real world,
which one cant find, after leaving through its gates.
leaves a hole in the soul,
now which we will try to
fill by looking elsewhere
for this place called CIEFL

and fail

till we return once again


return to pink CIEFL.

what i wrote to venkat rao

I have lived in cities all my life. Historically I was displaced. My grandparents had had to flee Bangladesh and settle as refugees in various parts of Calcutta. Later my father moved from Calcutta to Bombay to Hyderabad, leaving me to attach no great importance to the word community. I am hesitant to invest in communities (perhaps sub-consciously). Given the threat of alienation, I don’t feel that I am a part of a community, which is to begin with, an urban community. Instead I look around me, whatever the space, time, organization, institution etc...And try to instead form a community based on political views (for example). I don’t want to sound unsocial but given the amount of time I spend online, I have even communities I belong to, in the cyber world. One such community is namely the ‘blogworld’. Blogs or web logs are increasingly becoming spaces where an individual can view thoughts on anything from a shoe-horn to the war on Iraq. I (and as you see, that’s how most of my sentences seem to begin like) believe and feel comfortable with communities which are made by individuals. That is because such communities will respect one as an individual even if their thoughts begin to differ from the group.
I am not comfortable with the word religion, and consider myself a repressed Hindu. Though in some ways I am glad I am a Hindu because this way I had had to learn nothing religious ever, on the other hand, my (not really mine) religion is so overwhelming that it encompasses all aspects of my life.
I am not even comfortable with the word culture as what is my culture may not be the culture of my community member’.
During the course called culture and community, which I signed up for in order to see what I was missing.
Not that I live alone or without a certain way of life, but I felt that once the words culture and community were used, different meanings were given to it and this usage would club me with people with whom I shared nothing.
No community is closed: and this is something I learnt from class, and it is interesting because we do live in this small space called earth and people are hustled so close together with people and actually fighting to create identities and ending up creating sometimes warring communities.
I enjoyed presentations, especially the one made by Arun on relativism. I realised I probably am a relativist.
Arunlekha Sengupta.

Angst of yesterday, some project discussion and a MYSTERY

Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:41:04 PM): where there is no space for discussion
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 10:41:46 PM): i know
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 10:41:56 PM): is it not scary and frustrating
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:42:43 PM): yah
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:43:06 PM): n to top it jeet says a discussion has nothing to do with our relation
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:43:18 PM): but it has so much to do coz thats how we think
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 10:43:57 PM): thats what dvr was talking in class today
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 10:44:10 PM): at one point deciding to go back
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:44:15 PM): yah
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:44:19 PM): u know wat but
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 10:44:26 PM): instead of going forward with reflection
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:45:09 PM): don worry
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:45:28 PM): hang on for a while before getting so worked up
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:45:42 PM): n to tell u sth about urself
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:46:04 PM): just as sangee insists on beleiving that she is alone n not in a group
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:46:24 PM): you insist on beleiving that u are ugly
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:46:40 PM): is it this big mouth, ugly girl effect?
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 10:46:57 PM): not really
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:47:28 PM): yah in whatever superficial rather jabardasti ka ways u do
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:47:36 PM): u know u r beautiful
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 10:47:41 PM): yeah
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 10:47:53 PM): but ugly is not how one really looks
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:48:03 PM): still u just do it coz u love playing this game
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:48:10 PM): yah i know
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 10:48:17 PM): but a way of lookingat oneself
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 10:48:22 PM): brb
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:48:22 PM): coz the next thing i wanted to write was that
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:48:28 PM): ?
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 10:48:42 PM): br right back
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 10:49:07 PM): k
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:05:03 PM): hey
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:05:18 PM): am back
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:10:52 PM): here
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:10:55 PM): hey
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:11:02 PM): where were you?
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:11:09 PM): in mudits room
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:11:13 PM): anyway so what were you sayin?
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:11:20 PM): what were you doin there?
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:11:27 PM): is polyester there?
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:11:49 PM): no
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:11:52 PM): wat
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:12:12 PM): prem isn't in his room
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:12:22 PM): wow
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:12:31 PM): wat/
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:12:41 PM): wil call him
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:12:51 PM): call him na n tell me
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:12:53 PM): where is ur phone?
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:12:59 PM): here only
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:13:01 PM): u called na
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:13:06 PM): yeah
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:13:10 PM): was in mudit's room for vaseline
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:13:22 PM): so what were yousaying about being ugly?
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:14:10 PM): i gave one missed call but after that its not connecting at all
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:14:24 PM): he said he wanted to do sthin reckless today
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:14:30 PM): na i was jus about to say tht if u go to a psychologist, of whom i m not that fond of, s/he will tell you that ur repeatedly saying ur ugly will mean that u think u r an ugly person inside
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:14:44 PM): haann when?
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:14:56 PM): wen did he say that
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:14:57 PM): in the afternoon
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:15:02 PM): oh k
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:15:11 PM): wat were u guys talking
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:15:16 PM): yeah ut as if being ugly is a bad thing
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:15:21 PM): cos its not
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:15:27 PM): nohin
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:15:37 PM): he just kept sayin that
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:15:57 PM): was he to meet someone today?
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:16:08 PM): i said come home and he said he wants to do sthing reckless and would go meet somebody
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:16:13 PM): perhaps
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:16:15 PM): k
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:26:30 PM): ?
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:26:38 PM): you asleep?
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:26:41 PM): busy?
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:26:50 PM): na smoking
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:26:55 PM): wat u doing
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:27:10 PM): on orkut
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:27:19 PM): your new pic is too small
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:27:22 PM): k
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:27:29 PM): i go there every five mints
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:31:21 PM): m smoking
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:31:36 PM): k
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:50:04 PM): hey i got this wonderful survey for cosmo Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:50:06 PM): u there?
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:50:36 PM): lissssssssssten
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:50:38 PM): haa tell
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:50:50 PM): its a power point presentation
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:50:54 PM): shall i send it to u
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:51:04 PM): ok
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:51:14 PM): i will use it for my presentation even if it is not related directly
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:51:16 PM): wait
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:51:49 PM): its amazing
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:54:46 PM): uff m waiting for u to see it
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:54:55 PM): u ve power point na
arunlekhas (3/31/2006 11:54:59 PM): yeah
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:55:00 PM): k u must ve
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:55:10 PM): yippies about to be over
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:55:16 PM): seeeeeeeeeeee
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:58:18 PM): saw it
Swati Beriwal (3/31/2006 11:59:38 PM): prem is back

RainOverSitaphalmandi

For once
I was a grown up.
For once
I had a home to go back to quick
All for this rain.
I waited alone at the mandi station.
Alone amongst others
Others who sat waiting for the 6:30 train
which finally arrived at 6:50.
I had waited for 50 mins in this downpour,
With the lonely streetlight,
Getting wet in the rain.
Like the lonely
Lovely me.
For once
My train
Provided shelter.
For once
I went home,
Happy,
Like the others.

of tarkovsky and his weather.

This is more about yesterday than today.
We had a class from 2 to 5.
Search for self in contemporary European cinema. Yup that’s what the course is called.
We discussed tarkovsky’s ‘the mirror’.
We, prem and I realised as the discussion progressed that we had not understood anything of the film.
But both had agreed that the film was beautifully shot.
Especially the overcast weather in the movie, made me melancholic (as I guess it was supposed to)
I have a thing for monsoons.
I hate summer.
Even if I dream of sunny weather I am disturbed.
God alone knows how I manage Hyderabad in the summers.
So here we sit discussing Tarkovsky in this AC eed classroom, darkened by black curtains,
Watching rains somewhere in Russia, and wondering why it can’t rain a little right now, in Hyderabad.
After the three hours, we come out of the building and can almost smell the rains.
There is a yellow light all over.
My mother would say, “Mahakaashe jhor” as in there is a storm in space somewhere.
The willow in front of the admin block with its new yellow flowers is enough to bring a smile in my soul.
We go to Sagar (the on campus grocery shop) thirsting for some coffee and cigarettes, and
Lo behold! It begins to rain.
Big fat drops of rain fall from the still yellow sky.
And premankur and I become little kids trying to and then trying not to get wet.
Puddles Puddles everywhere,
Gay cowboys kissing with passion,
Strange tunes playing in the background as they kiss
Ting ting ting
And this tarkovskian rain.
Rain against the trees,
On the trees,
Dog barking somewhere,
Crows getting wet.
Tarkovsky is dead, someone said.
Long Live Tarkovsky.
.
.

.

Who is kancha Ilaiah?

This is an excerpt from an earlier assignment of mine in a course of mine called 'Cultural Studies Critical Themes ' modernity, nationality in India.
For the people who want to read. it is 1000 words long so BEWARE.

MODERNITY ON KANCHA ILAIAH’S “COTEMPORARY HINDUISM”

According to his detailed self-description, Ilaiah was not only born in the backward Kuruma caste in a backward Telangana village, but of actually rearing sheep while he was young.

He describes at length how meticulously he learnt the intricacies of his caste-craft and its lingo; of the esoteric techniques to distinguish various sheep like the bolli gorre, the pulla gorre, the nalla gorre; of the diseases that attack the sheep; of the rustic herbal concoctions used to cure the diseases; of the hot-iron application in case the paltry medication fails; of the task of mid-wifing the birth of sheep-lings; tending to the young and grown-up sheep; above all, the expertise to shear wool from sheep without hurting it.
He acquired a doctorate in academic studies and became Associate Professor of Political Science at Osmania University.
In a critical review of the book M. V. R. Sastry says “A disturbing trend in the battle against this social evil is the emergence of a nexus of hate-filled Islamists, Christian missionaries, misguided and marginal/elitist ‘Dalit’ leaders, Marxists, Anglophile Indian elites (still bearing the white man’s burdens) and lately, western Indologists/South Asian Studies’ specialists. These disparate groups seem to have only one thing in common – a deep hatred for Hindus and Hinduism. Kancha Ilaiah’s book “Why I am not a Hindu” is a manifestation of this disturbing trend.”
Also “There is not the slightest hint that he did any impartial and methodical study, however sketchy, about the Brahmins. What all we know of his knowledge about Brahmins and Brahmanism is his so-called discussions with one or two of his colleagues. And these colleagues are, per his own admission, feminists well known for their pathological hatred for everything connected with Hindu tradition, notwithstanding their own Brahminical birth.”


I am not going to acknowledge Mr. Sastry, and debate over his review, but say that then according to him, a woman, feminist, educated and anglicized has no right to question and defy patriarchal norms.

As a woman, being aware of patriarchy, and as a Hindu, being aware of Brahmanism, I read this excerpt from “why I am not a Hindu”, expecting pleasure of some sort. Perhaps another ‘Annihilation of Caste”, I thought. Well! Like ‘Annihilation of Caste’ this piece to objectifies (for lack of a better way to express myself) Hinduism. It is as if, Hinduism, and thus Brahmanism is an absolute whole. He talks of ‘brahminical narratives’ and ‘brahminical paradigms’ as if they are almost tangible constant and all caste Hindus would understand what was being taught in the classroom. As a Hindu myself, I would want to say that Hindus too might find such narratives oppressive and exclusive of themselves. But my saying that will be the equivalent of a heterosexual male complaining of sexual-harassment at work place by women.

In a column in Indian Express by Sagarika Ghosh, Kancha Ilaiah says that just as the Vatican meets periodically to modernize Catholicism, the shankaracharyas should meet in conclave to modernize Hinduism. They should decree that everyone, every woman, every tribal, every Dalit, has the right to be priest of God and God is not the exclusive preserve of the Brahmin. The event will have tremendous symbolic value, provide a turbine charge to India’s quest for modernity and Ambedkar will at last be vindicated.

I wonder if that will make any difference to the average Dalit? Will that make any difference to the Hindu who freezes when a Dalit is nearby? Ilaiah here is trying to fight the Vedas. As he thinks that the average Hindu, Brahmin looks at his Vedas to perform his daily rites. Or even looks to the shankaracharyas to actually tell them what to believe or not. Hinduism is the way the Hindu lives, not only his religion. I feel that the only way to fight the puranic Hindu will be to consider him a minority. I might be idealistic her but, a man-to-man relationship is easier to establish and maintain than to fight a non-existent figure.


Historian Giri Deshinkar gives the example of the book on Mantrasastra, written by one of the shankaracharyas known for his zealotry, which justifies the sacred book by claiming that its conclusions are supported by modern science, as if that made the text more sacred, it also says that the author is a BA, LLB. These words modern science, BA, LLB are used so that Hinduism (or religion) gets sanctioned by modernity. ‘Caste system, in its earliest face had a scientific base’, this you will hear all Hindus mouth blindly. Whether this is true or not, I cannot say, but that it has been told again and again to Hindus so as that the average Hindu is able to defend himself, and his Hinduism on the grounds of modernity.
It seems like Ilaiah uses almost the same tactic to make Dalit bahujan acceptable (?) to his readers. He says, “It never struck them that the Dalit bahujan gods and goddesses are expressions of the productive cultures of the vast masses.” He then goes on to give examples of how the goddess Kattamaisamma, is the discoverer of tank system, a Pochamma is the discoverer of herbal medicines for all diseases. Tank system and medicines, are modern systems, and in attributing them to his gods, he is modernizing hid deity. This is unnecessary in my eyes. I try to dismiss religion, and this attempt to make it more acceptable on the grounds of modernity is, I feel, defeating the purpose. Like in Ambedkar, Ilaiah uses modernity to justify the injustice dished out to the dalits, since time immemorial. Humanity, a pre-modern concept, to could have been used here, to some effect, I feel.
Why this stance makes me uncomfortable, because, Ilaiah seems to suggest that Dalit gods were modern, the average Dalit man’s body is “like that of a person in a circus. It is ready to lean anything in any condition. But for this make-up of the Dalit-bahujan mind, it would have been impossible to acquire skills we have today...”, thus the injustice against the dalits is wrong. But anyway, any discrimination is wrong. Ilaiah, I feel, is giving too many explanations.
His using the Hanuman/Dalit character and relating it to modern day politics is yet another example of his ‘modernizing’. But in this case it seems more apt and interesting and having references in history.

Things that struck me today…..um…. thoughts that….

1) Sitaphalmandi is quite a quaint name. (That’s where our college is)
2) CIEFL is just off tarnaka but yet it is not in Secunderabad. (It is in Hyderabad)
3) Sitaphals are sometimes sold at the mandi (sitaphal is the custard apple and mandi is the market)
4) The ladies drawn on the seats reserved for women on RTC buses are quite sad. In the sense these red women look quite unhappy. (You have no idea what I am talking about)