The Veil.

I used to gaze at her - though through her veil it was only her eyes that were visible. And I used to wonder and dream and wish that she might be gazing at me too. And like clock-work she used to be present at 8 in the morning in the small road that goes in front of my room and I just have to raise my head to see her.

He is there. The cigarette is still there, and he looks as tired as any other day. I wonder if he recognizes me; Is there anything that I am entitled to show to the outer world which is me? The veil from the tailors, the kohl from the local shop, the perfume from the same place? I wonder and dream and wish that he can recognize me! And somehow I have this feeling that he does recognize me.

What would she be thinking? Will I ever recognize her if I find her un-veiled? I am in love with her, but what am I in love with? What do I know about her? Well I know she prefers blue eye shadows. I know she has at-least 7 pairs of shoes. I know she loves Jasmine. I know her left eyes twitches more than her right. She has beautiful eyes and I know that she is aware of the fact that she is beautiful.

Is it a taboo to think of him; of his lips; of his careless hair? Of his cigarette? Of him!

What would it be to make love to her? How would she be naked? Would the rest of her as beautiful as her eyes? Or is it that her eyes are like any other eyes, just that everything else being veiled gives it the beauty?

Persepolis - Marjane Satrapi.

The book is about the plights of the protagonist in the Muslim conservative regime in Iran. She speaks how the religiously blinded authority made the life of women (and men too) highly difficult. Now when you look at it, isn’t it the same in India too? Women are highly oppressed here! Now there is another dimension to it - add religion, now you have got everything!

To quote an idea from the book, If God wanted women to hide their hair, he/she would have made them bald! I had a friend in college, who had to wear a veil since her family forced her to. The first year of the college, she used to wear it; but slowly she ended up wearing the veil only when she is going back home. 

I am some one who does not believe in God. The religion, in my arrogant opinion, should only be a solace, for the one's in need. When it becomes a weapon for oppression, it should be uprooted. There is no evil larger than the one which is spawned in the false name of God. There is nothing barbaric than forcing ladies to wear a veil, to consider them lesser souls.

India as a country is growing economically. But as a society we are going back. In my state Kerala, I see more women covered from top to bottom, than 5 years back. And if one is foolish enough to believe that they are not doing that out of compulsion, then one is a hippocratic bastard with crow shit for brains. 

Wanderlust.

Gypsy girl longed for a settled life. She had enough of the wanderings. She wanted a warm bed and a nice roof over her head. She started a liking towards dark clothes.

She found herself a house; she bought a bed; started setting it all up. And it was only the third day evening that she got it all settled. Tired, she went to sleep. She slept for ages. She woke up and took her bag and walked out. After a while, she remembered she had decided to settle down in a house. But she was already two or three towns away from her house.

Amnesia.

Nothing is forgotten. No one can ask me to forget something, can they? Even if they can ask, why would they think that I am gonna forget it? Even if I say Yes and meant it, would it be possible to forget something like that? Even if it is possible, wouldn’t it be going in circles since wouldn’t I have forgotten that I would have forgotten everything? Or would I have forgotten how to make things forgotten?

The Kite.

“The higher you fly, the more you see. The more you see, the more you wanna travel; it’s the same for men as well as kites - Keep that in mind. Also, know that you loose only the best kites, because it takes a very good kite to soar so high that it’s ambition wins over our strength.

The boy bought the new kite and started walking back home. The kite-seller’s advice though was supposed to make him feel better about loosing his favourite kite, he was still sullen. He cherished his kites. He loved flying kites and thought of them as his friends. When the kite is flying high, he feels connected to it, he is exhilarated. It is like the kite is his eye and the string is the nerve connecting him to it .It is not just the kite that is soaring high, it’s himself.

That day he went to the terrace early and took out his new kite. Since it was new he didn’t know its name. He loosened the string and let the kite out. It took to wind amazingly fast. It soared higher and higher. The kid flew it for hours and hours. He finally understood what the kite-maker said. But this time he didn’t wait for the string to break - he let it go.

Madman.

Every town has a Madman. Every town I know has one and he had his privileges. He can enter any house, any time. He can grab that piece of meat from your plate. He can peep into the bathroom when the ladies are taking the shower.

Nobody cared. In fact everyone cared. They always reserve an extra piece for the Madman every time they made something special. Ladies took bath in such a way that the Madman could see more with less effort.

Our town too has a Madman; or should I say had a Madman? Our Madman died a week back. He just died. Nobody cared; some even said they were relieved.

But slowly they started missing him - not him; they were actually missing the ‘Madman’. The piece of meat lay uneaten. Ladies stopped taking bath in the morning. That’s when the town council decided to elect another Madman for the town.

There were many applicants. Why wouldn't there be? Free food everyday. You get to watch ladies naked and what more! I hope that they will select me this time.

The Plot.

“It is definitely an issue.”

“How can you be so sure of that? We don’t have the slightest of proofs, do we?”

“Don’t say we - you may not have, but I, I am sure. I know it.”

“How? This is not a simple thing, my dear. You cannot just assume and act; given your position and the consequences, the wide consequences, mind you!”

“I know. But can’t you see that if we wait for the proof, the time, the chance will pass. And it will be too late then. It is a decision which has to be made now.”

“O dear, don’t be so hard on yourself, please!”

“I know - I hate my job!”

“Yeah! Being a God or a Goddess is a tough job.”

“So whom do you think, that we should support - Raaman or Raavanan?”

“I would say Raavanan, he is so sexy!”

“Then he shall die! Raaman will win. I have spoken!”