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Showing posts from January, 2008

THE ADVENT OF THE CAMEL IN AFRICAN SUBURBIA

Ever since we’ve moved into this house; which is apparently in a residential area even though its half jungle, we’ve been surrounded by all sorts of animals, mostly of the normal domestic variety such as the goats that wander around eating off most of the lawn outside the walled garden, to the cats that try to get into the kitchen from atop the walls thereby getting themselves electrocuted, to the strange mongrel breeds of dogs that sometimes see fit to keep our security man on the alert. To a family that has never seen the use of pets of the animal sort in the house, apart from a rat-catcher in the early nineties, which was thrown out for having kittens and eating them; the concept of being an animal magnet is a strange one. When one observes the types of fauna to be found in the vicinity of man, one is almost certain to discount the presence of camels and monkeys. And yet, these are the very animals that seem to have found a home in us. When we first moved to the new house, it...

DARSHEEL SAFARY AND AAMIR KHAN IN TAARE ZAMEEN PAR

The Howard Roark of Indian Cinema has done it again! It’s been a few weeks since Taare Zameen Par made its debut into this world of mediocrity, and what a glorious debut it was. Splendid, fantastic, emotive, touching, extraordinary; are but a few words that can be used to describe this movie, and even they don’t provide justice to the utter magnificence, the utter beauty of Taare Zameen Par. If you’re an Indian, you know what I’m talking about. If you’re a foreigner, you still have to try and watch it, with sub-titles or without; the meaning of the movie remains unchanged even with the barrier of language. TZP is a movie about a little boy trying to find his place in the world. He is young, and has his future mapped out by his parents scholastically. After trying to fit in with his class students, he discovers that it is impossible for him to study in the classroom. What follows is a spate of rebelliousness, in which he starts exploring the wonders of life; riding a bus through the...

MURPHY’S LAW- WHEN IN DOUBT, YOU’VE LEFT IT AT HOME!

Whatever can go wrong, will. Murphy’s Law, somehow, doesn’t seem to apply to people who are smart, ultra-efficient and organized, people who know where they want to go. It applies to the scatter-brained people; those who wake up, and discover that nothing they do today will cause their hair to behave. These are the people who help old ladies cross the street, but miss their tram to work; who take time to don good clothes for an interview and get splashed; who have a good laugh imitating their boss, only to discover him standing behind them. I have been steam-rollered by Murphy my entire life. From missing flights, to finding myself about to be eaten by a croc, I have discovered Murphy riding on my shoulder. It’s as if he’s guiding you into more mischief. For all but a few of us, Murphy is non-existent. He preys more on the dreamers than the doers. Most doers are people who enjoy living their lives, and are subliminally confident that nothing can go wrong. They waltz through life, ...

SHADOWS IN SUNLIGHT

A stranger, a shadowy figure, No warmth at all. Preaching to appreciate The value of valuable, Shunning them all. Dwelling in the past, Fearing for the future. Existing not living. Each word, each promise, Invisible to the world. Secrets are safe, The person not quite. The self to himself not known. Doing some, believing another, The voice is gone. Careful of your friends, Trust not this stranger. Uncaring and cold. Standing apart from himself, Wrecked and catching. Having it all, Having none. Begging, pleading. searching. Finding the bridge, Daring to cross. The seasons are changing, Spring has come. No one to water. No one to tend. Darkness in light, a stranger reborn. This is a poem written by one of my friends. I think it's lovely. Please do give your comments. :)

THE SINS OF THEIR FATHERS - KENYA’S POLITICAL HISTORY IN A NUTSHELL

When Kenya first became a republic, in the year 1964, a freedom fighter, Jomo Kenyatta, came to the fore, and was declared the first president of Kenya . He sat on the throne from 1963 to 1978. He had been a war veteran, involved in the MauMau uprising, and consequently, had spent a lot of time in prison. He was the pioneer of political leadership in the land, and unfortunately for the Kenyans, managed to wear the mantle of leadership very fixedly upon his shoulders. The ashes of the British Empire in Kenya had not yet begun to settle when the first rumbles of discontent were heard. Crime was high. Birth rate was high. Poverty levels continued to ascend, as slums began to rise up from previously prospering areas. Why was this great country bowed so low? At the time of independence, the economic status was at par with most of the Asian countries. Ten years later, Kenya was just another third world country. The world was laughing. What had happened? Ignorance had its uses, a...

TUK TUKS- WHEN LIFE HAPPENS ON THEM

I sometimes volunteer to sit at the shop, and be a sales-girl when life becomes too mundane for me. In this case, having volunteered for a stint at the shop, I had to leave from home at 2.00 pm, along with Sam, the other sales-girl, so that we could get to the shop and open it by three. This was during the time of the post-election riots, but since we sell bread, which is essential to most of the living in Mombasa , staying at home like sane people do was never an option. We called up one fellow called Richard, who happens to own a tuk-tuk asking him to come and pick us. In case you’re wondering, a tuk-tuk is a Thai word which means Auto-Rickshaw. In Swahili slang, the word tuk-tuk is substituted for piki-piki . By now, you must be coming to the conclusion that in Swahili, syllables are oft repeated to make the word; which is a rather hasty conclusion to be making of this language, for no other words have repeated syllables. Richard, unfortunately, had left for his village, ...

WHEN I LOOK AT YOU

When I look at you I see the woman I could become I see the laughter lines, I see the bright smile I see the twinkle in those eyes, the smooth walk I see those hands, soft, graceful, I look at you, and I see the woman I want to be When I look at you I see what I want you to see I see what I want you to notice I see your beauty, your grace, your loveliness I see your eyes, free of shadows, free of pain I see the love, radiating from your face When you look at me You see a woman, broken and bent You see someone, who has lost the will to live You see a person, stiff from sitting for twenty one years You see this woman, who aches to be whole again You see a cripple, staring at you in envy When you look at me You feel what I feel, broken inside You come up, and you look into my eyes, You stare into them, and then you understand You look up at the blue sky, and you laugh You listen to those waves, pounding, and you grin You turn arou...

A Time of Reckoning

After everything that has happened in this country, the election of the Speaker for the Parliament and Legislative council was a bit of an anticlimax. The rich ones are still in the fight of the High Seat, and the poor are in the fight for their lives. And yet, the two seem to merge, in that their needs can be considered to be quite similar. If by similar, one can equate life with power. Or food with influence. It is laughable, really, that the president of a democratic country has lost the respect of his people, his subjects. For what else can one call it, when the members of parliament refuse to pledge allegiance to him. Let us start off with the scenario that took place when a lawyer by the name of Ababu Namwamba was sworn in. He had to make the pledge three times. The first time, he said that we would be a subject of his president, Mr. Raila Odinga, and of the democratic republic of Kenya . Now why he would mention Mr. Odinga, when the president’s name is Mwai Kibaki, is beyo...

I JUST WANT YOU T KNOW WHO I AM

In the early dawn, the sun rose, the rooster crowed My people woke up, and greeted me with blood They wiped their eyes of sleep, and followed the river Of mankind, that swarmed the cities To quench their thirst, and their appetite They took their pangas, and mshales To rid my people of their life’s blood They burned houses, killed, maimed, And then they called it ethnic cleansing. I ask of them, Am I of one tribe? Am I Kikuyu, or Luo? Kalenjin, or Kamba? Do I not harbour all of you? Then they know the answer, and they think I am a fool Is not my earth red enough, from the previous bloodshed? Did the loved ones buried in me die in vain? Those fighters, those lovers; did they not spill the red in their veins, so you could have a better life? What makes them think that violence is the answer? Have they not learnt, from the past? Have they forgotten what the red stands for, in my flag? Who will remind them? Who will make that effort? I pick...