• “Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.” ― Neil Gaiman, Coraline

    The first story I can remember hearing was the eternal story of the Crow and the Sparrow. The crow whose house was made of mud was left homeless one day after a heavy rain shower. So he went to his neighbour, the sparrow (whose house was sturdier and made of wax) and asked for shelter. But the wily sparrow kept making excuses after excuses and never let the crow in. The main characters of children’s stories are often animal or fictional creatures and the situations they find themselves in are often fanciful and bizarre. The Mad Hatter, the Wizard of Oz, Bluebeard and Hansel and Gretel , the Princess and the Pea , Aladdin and Peter Pan are just some of the “people” I was introduced to as a child and the subtle way in which values and principles were instilled in me through yarns that held me spell bound and often dumbstruck.  When the braveheart  rescues the damsel in distress, when the Boy stands on the burning deck, when Jack kills the giant and returns home with a sack of money, you can go to sleep peacefully dreaming of how hard work is always rewarded in the end and that fortune favours the brave. Values of chivalry, loyalty, friendship and honesty are reinforced again and again through situations that fascinate and captivate a young  and tender mind.

    Unlike the chicken and egg situation where the question which came first, still remains unanswered, Art imitates life and stories, be they fictitious, magical or lyrical, peopled as they are by characters that are mythical, imaginary and altogether fantastical , are based on real life incidents or feelings or characters. If there is no direct reference to someone or something, there is definitely some inspiration from real life that is the basis of all stories.

    In one’s life, one can always identify the evil step mother of the fairy tales of Grimm, spot the clever animals of Aesop, and recognise the princes and princesses that live happily ever after. Comic book characters like Archie and his gang at Riverdale bring to life the teenage angst of  American suburbia .  Comic book superheroes like  Superman and Batman serve to reinforce the concept that good always triumphs over evil and the tragic Austenian heroines  each us how far women have come from those repressive Ewardian days. Bertie Wooster, Jeeves and gang fossilize the life of  Upper Class Britons in pre and post World War I Britain in the delightful tales of PG Wodehouse. And the list goes on and on and on with lovable heroes like Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, the fiercely determined March sisters in Little Women and a whole host of “fictional” characters in all fiction (Oriental and Western)  who teach us how to deal with commonplace human emotions like greed, lust, anger, envy , love and forgiveness.

    The amateur sleuthing of Miss Marple and the smart deductive logic of Sherlock Holmes sharpens the young intellect and instills a taste for analysis and problem solving already stirred by the adventures  of Fatty and the Five Findouters and other Blytonian heroes. Period romances and historical novels like ” A Tale of Two Cities”  and my all time favourite “Desiree” have taught me me more about the French Revolution and  Napoleonic France than any history lesson. Similarly the wide sweeping romance of “Gone With the Wind” more than cements the history of the American Revolution as does the sad story of Anna Karenina set in 19th Century Russia.

    All great fictional characters have a faint resemblance to someone known to the author or at least have been inspired by people and  events and close to the author’s life. Very recently, I’ve been reading several Indian authors and am amazed at how much I’ve learnt about our ancient myths and legends through the fictional stories they’ve been set in ( Ashwin Sanghi and the Krishna Key for one).  How then can one deny the fact that stories and books about characters and events that are not real don’t teach us anything useful?

    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

  • This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

    Friendship isn’t about whom you have known the longest… It’s about who came, and never left your side…

    You, my dear friends are those who remain
    Close to my heart through thick and thin
    I’ve known you long and known you well
    And am lucky to know you still.
    We do not talk for days on end
    And meetings are far and few
    But through the silence that separates
    Our worlds and lives
    We remain connected so that when we meet
    We’re back to where we left off
    Picking up conversations where we stopped

    I met some of you when I was young
    And some when we were grown.
    But the ties that bind us all
    Are strong and remain

    You’ve been with me for all these years
    Enriching my life with yours
    Sharing toffees and lots of coffees
    Listening to my heart’s outpourings
    Celebrating my life’s golden moments
    And including me in yours.

    Most people have one close friend but I am lucky to have more than one . I have more than half a dozen friends and each of these women  complete me in their own unique way.

    They’ve come into my life at different times and stayed along beside me.

    I don’t  meet them every day, I don’t always talk to them everyday, but somehow we remain connected through the silences that separate us.

    I first met my oldest friend Tina in a hotel in Lagos, Nigeria. Our parents were posted there and we had no option but to be nice to each other. I remember meeting her officially at  my  fourth birthday party under the watchful eye of our parents. She wore a pretty primrose yellow frock and a crooked grin with a tooth missing and had a broad white band to keep back her curly locks from flying into her face.  I had on my new lilac twinkle nylon frock and an equally crooked grin with two teeth missing in the front. I shyly accepted her gift and held her hand and took her away from our parents’ gaze.
    We connected almost instantly and  it wasn’t long before we began talking. And it is thirty years now since we first met and haven’t stopped talking yet.

    I met Ayesha on that first day in Class IX,that momentous year when we had to decide whether we wanted to be doctors or lawyers or accountants or whatever. Our classes were shuffled around and I was the only one from my old class and was apprehensive about my new classmates. But I needn’t have worried for Ayesha spotted me and introduced me to the girls she knew from baby days. We’ve remained friends since then – those days of holding hands before the school social, till now where we share concerns about our husbands’ health.

    On the first day at the Alliance Francaise, a tall, gangly girl introduced herself: “Je m’appelle Zoya”. And that’s when I got to know Zoya, my friend all through college. We’d sit together in class, sip tea in the canteen and go back on the same bus.

    Kripa was one of the cool girls in college,the ones who wore kurtas and kolhapuris and smoked cigarettes in the recesses of the corridors.I used to watch her from a distance and only got to know her much later in life when both of us met by the poolside, watching over our children while they swam and we yakked. It was the start of a friendship that still exists.

    Another dear friend with whom I touch base regularly is Meera who was also a classmate in school before she became a friend for life. I can’t remember exactly when our acquaintance turned to friendship but slowly from conversations of whose doing what with whom and where, our conversations turned deeper, touching upon the metaphysical and the after life.

    Rani was introduced to me by my husband-to -be who actually wanted to run me by her before popping the question. I still recall that meeting one rainy evening over thirty years ago. Her dark eyes looked me up and down and I wondered if I would pass or fail? I passed the test and she became a friend who is now closer to me than to my husband.

    At forty plus, I thought I had enough close friends and least expected Sonia to join my list when she asked me to make up the fourth in Bridge. Both of us had empty nests and looked forward to those afternoons when we shared news about our girls and established a common bond that lasted long after we stopped playing cards.
    Making close friends is hard for who in this world has time to really hear what you have to say? So I count myself lucky indeed to have more than one close friend.

     

  • Scams Galore

    I’ve been too busy these last few days to follow the affairs of the world – so immersed am I in baby soap and nappies but what amazes me is the inordinate emphasis given to the IPL scam. Granted all kinds of cheating is essentially wrong but like the proverbial white lie, there is some amount of cheating that is ” acceptable”. How can the Press, that watchdog and self appointed ombudsman of our society make such a song and dance day after day about something as trivial as CRICKET. It’s just a game for crying out loud : eleven people standing on a field while two are running 22 yards after hitting a ball. And nowadays this game is far removed from its origins when it was played in the fields of England, a game for gentlemen. Today with multi coloured cotton knits replacing white flannels, and white balls replacing the red,  with the matches once played only in the day now being played partly or wholly  in the night and with polite clapping replaced  with half naked cheerleaders waving pompoms and dancing, it is no wonder that this has become another form of entertainment where betting is taking centre stage – particularly when gentlemen no longer play the game.

    What is surprising is the fuss that is made about the bookies and the investigations so thorough that even sons-in-law are not spared . And this is not the first errant son-in-law our State has known. Indeed many sons-in-law blatantly violate the law safe in the knowledge that they can’t be touched. So I find it funny that scams like Coalgate, Railgate and so many other Gates that have been uncovered by our super snoops the TV Journalist Gang that I am beginning to believe that the whole IPL scam itself was a set up by the UPA Govt to divert the attention away from its own Scam ridden daily affairs.

    So until the next real big scam surfaces we will have to suffer the amateur antics of the TVJG ( TV Journalists Gang) who discover starlet, tartlet and cutlet who are the conduits between those fix and those who un-fix the matches that are called the IPL.

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