LaBels limit me but save time!

Sometimes for want of a better word and saving time and energy, we resort to already existing labels. In the process of using a particular label frequently, we deny ourselves the opportunity to think beyond that particular word. Conveniently we slot people, objects, places and other things. Therefore it requires a feminist to point out and condemn labels that define women, are sexist. If not for them, we could not have realized that we are slotting women into a particular category.

Just take a look around you and you find that there are labels for almost everything. It is these labels that slowly make way for prejudices and stereotypes. Spaces have to be either urban or rural/country side. But most of the times we use labels just because we can’t think of any other word. Most of the times, these labels are also historical and sociological. Things are simplified for historians and sociologists if groups of people are slotted into a particular label.

In academics, one can observe this trait predominantly. If an individual gets slotted into a particular label, then that one remains with him/her throughout the career span. Even if the individual has changed loyalties and prescribes to another, the tag is sure to follow. It is therefore quite difficult to remain in the academic circle and not be labelled. These labels can sometimes be the area of an individual’s research. For example, if someone is passionate about the theory of post colonialism, then he/she is labeled a poco (short form for postcolonialist). Unwittingly, one gets pulled into the vortex of labels.

Labels can be limiting and suffocating. I am trying to think an alternate to this. I cannot seem to find any. Perhaps, you could suggest something. I would like to read what you have to say on this. 

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Stars in my bedroom

The place where we are presently living cannot be characterized as urban or rural; it is somewhere between the two and could be called semi-rural and urban. Ah, sometimes these labels limit us from categorizing. Well, I hope you agree that everything cannot be slotted into labels. I am digressing from my topic, so let me get back into the groove.

Sometimes when sleep plays truant, I lay awake and wonder. It is at those times, that my eyes are fixed to the tiny sparks of light that flit across my room. The dark room gains a glow from these tiny fire flies which have somehow wandered into my room through the open window. Sometimes, I see the light through the mirror and I must tell you that the reflection of the fire fly’s light in the mirror makes a lovely sight. 

You should know that fire flies don’t dwell in urban spaces. They are found only in the country side as there are not many lights there. Perhaps the presence of many lights in the urban and semi-urban places has rendered our eyes blind to the luminous fire flies. 

The weaver-bird (Ploceus philippinus) which weaves its nest beautifully supposedly catches these fire flies to light its nest. Many villages have an abundance of these nests hanging from trees and sway gracefully in the direction of the breeze. One could spend a lifetime looking at those nests swaying back and forth. I am yet to see a nest in the dark. I am waiting to see that spectacle.

These flies spread light and warmth, niggling my senses and thoughts when I find that sleep has betrayed me. Looking at those stars that twinkle in my room, I slowly fall asleep and dream of weaver birds and their glowing nests.

Have you seen fire flies/ weaver bird’s nests? Does your living space bring you joy?

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No No No

Now I know how wrong I was to judge Amy Winehouse's music by looking at her personhood. I had always associated her music to be dark, meaningless and that of just another dope singer on the block. Looking at her bee-hive hairstyle and rehab stories, I couldn't make myself think that she could produce good music. All the while, I had made these judgments without having listened to her music. The smallness of my personhood comes through examples as these.

After her untimely death, there were many reviews which chose to focus only on the '27 Club' and not her soulful music or her voice. But there was one review which piqued my interest towards Winehouse. I read that obituary quite carefully and the writer, though mentioned the 27 Club, did not choose to make that his sole point of reference to Winehouse. The way he described her voice and range, could have forced anyone to go and listen to her albums. I don't know whether others did that but I precisely did that: listening to different songs by Winehouse. I started with Rehab, which faintly reminded me of CCR's "Someone told me long ago/There's a calm before the storm,/I know" from the song Have you ever seen the rain?. I liked the feel of Winehouse's Rehab. I listened to all of her songs that were on You tube and boy, here was a fan of Winehouse's voice.

Well, I don't much listen to songs by girls/women, as they are mostly mushy love songs with a voice that drips honey and sweetness. Of course, there are some exceptions to this and Winehouse was one who did not have a stereotypical voice (wiki tells me that she possesses deep contralto vocals). Now I feel sorry that the world lost someone as her at so young a age. If she was alive, there would have been many soulful songs that would fill the idle hours of many souls like me.

I should leave this judging business, otherwise I will lose out on many things. What say?

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I hear footsteps and know that it is you

This has almost become a passionate obsession. I believe that I had this trait in me but did not notice that it has become habitual and compulsive. I had to guess the person from the footsteps I hear in the corridor. It so happens that one does something for a lark before one realizes that that which was done for a lark has almost become a part of the daily routine.

Working on the computer, I am engrossed in something but almost as a reflex, my ears pick up a sound that is at a distance: footsteps. I start guessing. Maybe it could be SG or PR. As the footsteps come closer, I know who it is. It is like a challenge between my two minds. The two minds debate and finally one wins. The process gives me immense joy. If my guess is correct, I get quite ecstatic. But all this involves only me. Sometimes I do whisper to the person sitting next to me that X or Y is coming. Unwittingly, the person sitting beside gets involved in the anticipation of matching the footsteps to the person. If I win, I look at the individual beside with a look that proudly exclaims, “I told you, didn’t I? I am always right.” Guessing a person by the footsteps is not a great feat but I consider it something to be proud of as not many are tuned to identifying footsteps. How small things come to mean so much is something that has never ceased to amaze me. Even while I type this post, my ears hear the footsteps and try to match them to the person.

Now, I hasten to add that I cannot recognize every footstep. I have to know the person before I could identify the footsteps. It is strange how different people walk, thereby bringing a distinct sound to their footsteps. Even barefoot walk has a particular sound which can be identified. 

Weird obsessions and habits! What is yours? Counting, perhaps or is it adding the numbers of a vehicle’s registration. I do them as well!

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Why the word ‘simple’ baffles me everytime I hear it

Usually while describing a learned professor, the word which is oft used is ‘simple.’ Sentences like, “He is quite brilliant but very simple,” is something which I hear quite a bit. What exactly does this word mean? Simple, I see, is used in different contexts. For example, “Today I have cooked a simple meal,” “My thoughts are always simple,” “They are very rich, but quite simple,” She has a way of dressing very simple;” I am a simple person with not many ambitions.” Mind boggling, isn’t it? This word has almost seeped into many contexts.

In the context of food, it could mean a preparation without many spices and that which requires less cooking time; in academics, it could mean that in spite of having qualifications which run up to two lines, the individual is not proud; in terms of societal standing, it could mean that in spite of having abundance of wealth, the people live lives devoid of pomp and glory. Well, . . . I have even read blog posts which begin with, “Today’s post is a simple one.” 

Now I have a problem with this usage. Take this context, for example:  if a woman has no wealth, but tries to act rich by the way she dresses and talks, she is spurned by many but if people who are rich don’t display their wealth, they are called ‘simple.’ How does one digest that? Does simplicity reveal itself only through the exterior? Just because one does not dress extravagantly or uses less spice, does the individual/object become simple? It has to be something more that, I reckon.

By using the word ‘simple,’ does one categorise people, food, film, character, etc.? Can one word be used to signify different traits? Are we lazy to exploit the other words in the English language and therefore use a single word to describe heterogeneous contexts? 

My professor always says: “There are no synonyms in any language. Every word has its own context and cannot be replaced by another.” I think he is right. What do you think?

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If you like it then you can take it

The shades of gray are deeper in certain spots of everyday life. Many times I tend to admire something in a friend's or relative's house. My comment goes something like this: "This bangle looks beautiful." Immediately the response would be: "Please take it." Well, when one admires something, it does not essentially boil down to possession and if I like something, it does not mean that I want it for myself. This kind of situation presents itself to me on many occasions.

The action following my comment of 'liking' is usually a gesture of love and affection. It also means that if I say that I like something, it is an indication that I would also like to possess the same. But the funniest part is that people are quite generous when it comes to small objects such as pens, key-holders, bangles, etc. but not bigger objects such as furniture, computer, dining table, etc. I reckon that it is quite easy to be a giver when it comes to insignificant things but others, no way.

I could extend this topic to a slightly different tangent: food. When I express that I like the taste of a particular dish, it does not mean that I would eat a lot of that dish. Impossible. This situation happens most of the time with me. The moment I make the mistake of saying: "Tasty curry," I can be sure of the hostess serving me extra helpings of the 'curry.' An expression of appreciation does not always mean that I want more. If I feel like having more of that dish, I would definitely do so.

Someone somewhere would have tweaked the course of civilisation by expressing appreciation towards something that was needed by that individual and bang, it has been flowing steadily through our culture.

Well, what do you think of this.

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