Writing Bio

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Writing Bio is never easy. One can never quite determine how much detail to add, what to omit, which achievements to highlight, which failures to wipe off the picture.

Once upon a time, writing a bio meant coming up with 4-5 pages of one’s history. But today, with the advent of social media, the bio has shrunk to as little as two lines or in some cases, a few random, unrelated words that apparently qualify a person (at least in his own eyes).

I have had to write and rewrite my bio for several years now, especially when making submissions to publishing houses and elsewhere, and I dare say that the path my bio took – from a bunch of pompous statements to a description that reeked of lack of confidence, to a meek, unimaginative paragraph of milestones, to finally a concise list of facts – has been long and hard. In one of those transformations, taking inspiration from someone else, I added the line ‘I live in Bangalore with my husband and son.’

Sometimes the bio is required to be written in the first person and sometimes in the third. (As they say, the writer has to don many hats.)  As per the requirement, I end up changing the ‘she’ to ‘I’ and ‘her’ to ‘my’ – or vice versa. One such day, hoping to get a favourable response, I was about shoot an email to a publisher, when my better sense warned me to read the whole thing again.

And then I noticed my bio, partially edited from the first person to the third as follows, reduced to a whole gossip column in one line:

‘She lives in Bangalore with my husband and son.’

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Sometimes it is better to let things be

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When my son ran out to play in the evening, I called after him to switch off the television and the three lights in different rooms that he had switched on for purposes of his own. He just ran off, as though the house had suddenly filled with vacuum and my voice had failed to carry. A few random, varied thoughts on energy conservation, ozone layer and poverty lingered on my lips and then they ran off, too.

As responsible parents, we want to raise a generation of kind, responsible, law abiding, energy-conserving, poverty-sensitive, caring, perfect citizens. We are responsible for the future of the nation. It’s in our hands that the Tomorrow is getting moulded. We are alert, tensed, on our toes for any sign that our children are going astray. Is it any surprise that we are always jumpy and irritable? Every bit of news we read, every parenting advice that we find crossing our path, makes us conscious and look at our own lifestyle and method of raising our children to make sure we’re on the right track.

We try so hard that we run the risk of overdoing it. The television-and-lights-switch-off dialog happens almost every evening. Some days he runs back to obey my command, rather than waste his precious play time in an argument which he knows he will lose. On other days, he just yells back, “Will you do it please,” and goes his way.

And yet, at other times, when I do not say anything, I notice him switch off the television or any other stray lights that I must have forgotten to turn off, and go on with his business, without even being conscious of what he’s doing.

Sometimes it is better to let things be. They will find their own way back. If we do our part right, everything else will fall into place. All our efforts are not wasted. I read somewhere (in social media, where else) that the things we tell them in childhood become their inner voice when they grow up.

I hope so.

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The Power of Ads

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There was that ad again. Can't help noticing it. Not because it is spectacular or because of the name of the product, but because it is repeated every now and again, and the product is new.

If you ask anyone whether advertisements help them make a choice, or more specifically, if advertisements make them want to buy a product, the answer will be a No. Because No is the only correct answer. Saying Yes makes you look gullible and immature. And you don't want that, of course, especially in these days of social media where everything gets magnified.

But the fact is, unconsciously (or perhaps consciously, though we refuse to admit it) these advertisements are talking to our minds. Especially when they are repeated over and over again, in different places. Hammering it in. We may like it or not, but we are not going to be able to ignore it. A poorly made ad makes us think the product might be just as unprofessional.

And the celebrities that flaunt products on TV? We can't help but observe them. Their carefully constructed but casually delivered words touch a raw nerve. We tell ourselves that they're doing it just for the money, but we can't help but weaken when we see those products in the shops. Oh that's the one that actress endorses. Endorses. What does that even mean?

So, back to this particular product I am talking about.
When I first saw it, what struck me was its name. Unusual, of course, but more so because it reminded me (as it does everyone) of its namesake. Then I saw it again, and again. (See how that name gets etched in my head?) Soon, I suppose the original would fade from my mind, and when I hear the name, I will think of this new one. I don't want it, it's not something I would buy. Unless, of course,...

Then I go out to the city and here and there, in bus stops and hoardings, it stares back at me. That name. Bold. Large. Cool. I think about it. I wonder about it. The next time I see it in a shop, I may be tempted to buy it. Just curious, I would tell myself, to know what all that noise was about. And when I do, I may speak about it, the goodness and badness of it, because in the days of social media, being the first to announce it carries weight.

But if you ask me whether advertisements made me buy it - I would deny it, vehemently.
It's complicated, as the Gen-in-Focus would tell you.

And that's how ads work.

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Today

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It was a rainy day.
(No, it wasn't. I just said that to grab your attention. Authors know the power of the opening line. And nature's ravages often make the best opening lines.)

At least, it wasn't raining in the morning when we set foot on the platform. Not the first visit, but this time was different. It was as sunny as a sunny day in summer can be. There was no promise of the monsoon.

It started to rain in the evening, thwarting all met predictions, as usual. The monsoon had hit hours ahead of schedule. And what a rain it was! I had seen rain like that before, of course. Who (from Kerala) hasn't? But I never had to be out in that kind of rain. The road had become a river, and we were in a car that was rowing through it. Headlights reflected from the water. Rain lashed against the windows. The trees by the roadside swayed in the wind. We watched the road, eyes wide and apprehensive.

The first part of the road was familiar to the person who drove. Then we had to ask for directions. Then we found it, a small building through a thick curtain of rainwater.

And the cold - I never knew a rain, even the most violent, unstopping kind could bring such cold, that we would shiver throughout the night, that would bring a cool breeze even in the morning; a breeze that I would soon be very familiar with and very fond of.

A new life, new path, new discoveries, new experiences.

Ten years ago.

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Apocalypse and Monsters

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And thus Godzilla saved the world.
Then it (he?) got up, ignored the crowd of bipeds who were firing at it until minutes ago, strolled into the sea and vanished. It has to lie low until the next alien menace visits earth, so that it can save us again. (I wonder what it eats. Must be seaweed.) The spectators - military, civilians and movie-goers - suddenly realise that this monster is their friend (though they were trying to nuke it) and watch it go, a grateful smile on their lips.
Clap, clap, clap.

Absolute B.S.

But what is this obsession with giant monsters destroying cities or aliens killing humans or the apocalypse?

Why do we enjoy watching the planet getting devastated and then some clever dude coming up with a plan to stop it with a single brave, brilliant, reckless act? And of finally saving Earth and its people?

For one thing (perhaps the most important), it's the effects. When Jurassic Park was released, I watched it in the big screen. The effects (sound, visual, everything - remember the glass of water vibrating when the T-Rex approaches?) were worth dying for. But that was years ago, and for us it was the first of its kind.

By now all possible kinds of creatures have grown larger than life and have attacked us. Also we have been visited by aliens of all shapes and types. They have destroyed all cities in America. (We are safe: like normal homo sapiens, they prefer America too. Which explains why the beasts that fought Godzilla went straight to SFO from Japan.)

And when climactic changes (caused by man) bring about the end of the world, it would happen in the next thirty minutes.

Anything from outer space comes only to destroy us and steal our world.

Why are we attracted to those films, to the very idea? End of the world - does that sound enticing??

It's the fear, I am thinking. We have no clue what we would do in case beasts or aliens of this magnitude do appear. Or if the end of the world is in sight.
It's an acknowledgement of our vulnerability - we're just hanging there in the edge of space, a tiny blue speck at the mercy of the entire Universe, exposed to anyone who might have any designs on us.
It's our optimistic hallucination that humanity will unite and rise and hold hands to defeat these beasts. That nature will forgive us for our errors and let us live in harmony again. (That we will have learnt a lesson and will live in harmony at all.)
It's our fondness for happy endings, to see Earth intact and chasing the sun again.
It's our penchant for hero-worship, to see the President of the US fighting aliens in a fighter plane or a marine protecting the land by taking away the nuclear bomb even at the risk of his own life or a scientist who loves the Earth letting nature have its way.

That which terrifies us, excites us. Stimulates us. And then, bores us to death.

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The Meaning of Life

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Trust Google. Ask Google. Google Knows.

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Balance

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In the balance of daily life
failure outweighs success-
the one weighs tonnes,
the other's feather light...

In the balance of happiness
setbacks outdo triumphs-
the one stings more,
the other brings less cheer...

In the balance of perceptions
pessimism outsmarts hope-
the one sounds true,
the other seems vague...

In the balance of truth, however,
efforts reign over idleness,
determination over giving up,
belief over unreal fears.

And at the end of life
achievements win over wicked aims,
A life well-lived wins hands down
Over a life wasted in malice...

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Mothers' Day

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There was a mother in the next compartment. I never saw her throughout the journey. I did not need to see her. From her words (in Malayalam), I could figure out that she had two children, both girls, I think.

There was also a large group of people from Andhra, on a family vacation. There was a lot of noise and commotion as this group made sure they were all comfortable and settled in their respective berths. At around ten, things became silent and the lights were turned out. I could hear her clearly then. Not just I, most of the Malayalis in the neighbouring seats could hear her, pleading, threatening, warning one of her daughters to come down from the top berth. 'You will fall down, come down', 'Either lie down with your sister or come to the lower berth with me' were repeated several times in different ways. She also muttered threats to beat the little one if she didn't obey. This went on for a long time. I was sure the entire rest of the coach, as far as her sound carried, was silent and paying attention, forming judgements of their own. I saw that little girl the next morning, she must have been three or four years old. She did look like an adamant little one.

I can imagine the thoughts that ran through the minds of many Malayalis in the train that night.
Why can't that mother just let the poor girl be?
Why can't she stop yelling at her?
Why doesn't she even remember that she is in a train and people are listening?
Why does she threaten the little girl so?
And other mothers like me, who have experience travelling with children, must have thought, She's travelling with two little girls. She must be tired and probably just wants to lie down and rest. Maybe she is longing to reach her home in the morning and relax. She is afraid the little girl who is lying in the top berth would fall down from the height and hurt herself. She wishes that the little girl would stop embarrassing her in front of everyone and just listen for once in her life.

After a while there was silence, probably the little girl decided to obey, probably they came to some settlement.

It's very difficult to understand mothers. It is easier to blame them and accuse them of yelling at their children or even beating them.
Mothers don't like shouting at their children or punishing them. Sometimes all they want is peace of mind.

This post is dedicated to that mother in the train, and many more mothers like her.

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