Because I can’t write poetry …

…  I tried my hand at micro fiction. The path that lead me to it was when my interest in the genre of flash fiction was rekindled recently. Flash fiction or the short short story as it is called is a brisk business – around 1000 words and the job is done. Micro fiction takes this challenge even further – generally up to 200 words will seal the deal. The trick lies in making these limited words shine. It is like preparing a single alluring cupcake from a cup of flour.

Nevertheless, it provided a refreshing change and an exciting opportunity. Reading micro fiction felt like enjoying a small piece of candy instead of devouring a big meal and writing it was a good excuse for not being able to do poetry!

Here is my attempt at micro fiction which was published in an online magazine called ’6MM – Six Minute Magazine’ that encourages this sharp and focused form. My piece is titled ‘Small Talk’ and is a conversation between a man and a woman in a bar. The man is a dashing fellow and the woman is clearly attracted to him but something is eating him at the moment, something from his dark past …

                                                                                ******

“I grew up in a rough neighborhood.” He says matter-of-factly, as if expecting this piece of information to be guessed easily by anyone merely glancing towards his clean-shaven, slick-haired, suit-clad self.

“How rough?” ask her glossy red lips, the heady fragrance of his aftershave mingled with the alcohol on his breath making her lean forward expectantly.

 “Have you ever seen a man getting shot?” He takes a slow sip and turns the glass of whiskey around in his hand, admiring the bar lights striking off its crystal-cut body, waiting for an answer, but not from her.

“I have. In the head. And he was my best friend.”

                                                                               ******

You can find the magazine issue that my piece appeared in at http://sixminutemagazine.com/issues/Six_Minute_Magazine_Volume2_Issue_2.pdf

Mind your language!

There are around 6900 distinct languages in the world. Being able to speak and understand every one of them is impossible. Still, it feels like a major handicap when you are in the company of people who are babbling in a tongue you cannot decipher. But if by chance, your ears catch a familiar word and your mind manages to decipher the meaning as you know it in the language you understand, it feels momentarily like you have managed to find one puzzle piece that fits into a huge incomplete jigsaw spread out before you.

But what if that word is not what you thought it means? What if it has a very different meaning from that in the language that you know? It also becomes embarrassing for the speaker to realize that the accidental listener might have interpreted that word in a way which the speaker never intended it to!

These days, I have such feelings of awkwardness after I talk on the phone in my mother tongue ‘Marathi’ where I can be overheard. This is specifically because I currently do not live in Maharashtra but in the United States. We have one word which has a completely innocent meaning in our language but which sounds similar to a standard swear word in English. Which word is that?

That word which means ‘only’ in Marathi is ‘fakta’ (pronounced ‘fuck-ta’ with a soft ‘t’)!

It is used so many times in a normal conversation, that every time I hang up the phone after speaking to someone in my native language, I look around furtively like a government spy fearing her conversation being overheard. I wonder who all around me have unintentionally overheard my conversation and without comprehending anything else (except for so many of the English words we now inevitably use when speaking in Marathi), picked up that one particular cuss word they thought they kept hearing!

And there’s still more … the word ‘lavkar’! It means ‘fast’ or ‘hurry up’ in Marathi. People from parts of India other than my Marathi-speaking state who did not know it before have entertained me with their reactions and misunderstandings on coming across it. When broken up, it becomes: ‘love’ + ‘kar’ (‘kar’ means ‘to do’ in Hindi)! Or there is ‘undee’ which means ‘eggs’ but an unenlightened person might mistake it for ‘undie’ – slang for underwear!

So until the device implanted in our brains that does automatic translation of any language falling on human ears is invented in the future, we have to wait patiently behind the screen of unknown tongues while our poor brain keeps misinterpreting words to either funny or disastrous consequences!

Death valley – a unique experience

Death Valley, California, is a desert as stark and intense as death itself. Vast and seemingly unending, it consists of earthy plains stretching out to meet sweeping mountains that are equally dry and stony (although wearing pretty snow caps in winter). “Beautiful” seems like the last word that might be considered on reading this description but it is the first word that pops up in one’s mind standing in the middle of Death Valley. However, one must not visit it in peak summer to avoid being barbequed since it boasts of the highest temperatures in the USA and for some years, even the world!

Death Valley entertains its visitors sufficiently, with many famous spots to see. Racetrack Playa is a sand-colored, dry, cracked lake-bed with large rocks on it that leave visible tracks making it seem that they are pushing forward through the earth when no one is looking! The way to Titus Canyon starts as every adventure lover’s dream by offering the chance to drive up its mountains in rattling jeeps over gravel complete with sharp turns, plunging deep rocky valleys and no protective road barriers at all. Then comes the fascinating ride through the actual Canyon, squeezing through extremely narrow rock walls rising on either side. Artist’s palette with reds, blues, greens, yellows, violets – all of them vibrant colors of just rocks – is visually stunning. Badwater Basin consists of a wide, flat expanse of salt residue and is the lowest place in North America. Dante’s view is the best view from very high up in the Black Mountains overlooking Death Valley. Badwater Basin looks like a gigantic white lake spread out below from this point.

A vast playground for nature’s elements of wind and water to play in, Death Valley’s simplistic beauty sets your sights free. People like us living in cities are used to having buildings, trees, hoardings, vehicles block their views constantly. The fact that there is nothing of those usual large objects between us and that natural landscape in Death Valley is liberating. Not even a normal green tree disturbs the raw, barren image in front of you. This contrasting huge, enveloping sense of space would make one claustrophobic on returning home to the city. All around is pure earth in its natural form proudly displaying different shapes and vivid colors. No lush greenery, no colorful flowers, no blue waters; Death Valley dazzles despite their absence.

And the silence. Ah, the silence. When you go there, take a moment and stand someplace where there are no human visitors and no tourist vehicles.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Listen to Death Valley.

What do you hear?

…what you usually expect to hear from nature: birds chirping? Water flowing? Tree branches rustling?

Nothing.

Nothing but…

…the Sound of Silence!

It is calming and a bit unnerving at the same time. What an itty-bitty dot you are in this overwhelming universe around you, surrounded by people and noise in life but loneliness and silence in death!

Death Valley can be a spiritual experience indeed.

Artist’s palette, Death Valley

(For more beautiful photos from this place, please visit my husband’s post on Death Valley at ‘Myriad Moods’. )

Who is a feminist?

Some years ago, when I was an undergraduate student in India, a friend was a bit surprised when he learned that I identified myself as a feminist. “But you are NOT a hideous, stern and aggressive girl with extremely bad hair!” He exclaimed. I don’t know about the other adjectives but I certainly did not have bad hair!

On a serious note, the image of a feminist is somewhat like that or when taken to the extreme, it is that of a vicious man-hater. Many also think of a feminist as always female. But here’s what the Holy Book of Language, the Dictionary has to say:

Feminist – Noun: a person who supports feminism, Adjective: Of, relating to, or supporting feminism.

It never mentions that a feminist is specifically a woman. Last year, I happened to read a fantastic blog post on International Women’s Day: Because I Can’t Help It in which the author had given very good reasons why every woman is a feminist by default if she cares about equality for women. Because that is what it really is. The definition of feminism says that it is the theory of the political, economic and social equality of the sexes. Here are a couple of questions:

Do you think women should have equal wages if they do exactly the same level of work as men?

Do you agree that women should be able to vote?

Do you think that women should not be sexually harassed?

Do you think women should have the same right to make decisions as a man?

If your answer to the above questions is yes, you are a feminist no matter what gender you belong to. A supporter of humanity is not differentiated against by gender and feminism can be said to be a subset of humanity so why should the label of ‘female’ be applied to it most of the time?

India is currently ranked as the fourth worst country for women and there is a long way to go for things to get better in the realm of women’s empowerment but it is not as if there are no pockets of hope at all. There are examples of parents having only daughters and no sons at all in the family line, who would have been criticized and spoken down to for that fact but who stood their ground and proudly raised their female offspring as they would have raised sons. There are bosses who treat and reward all employees equally regardless of gender. At least some parts of society now respect the right women have to choose life partners and do not brand ‘love marriages’ immoral like they frequently did in the past. There are families who do not look down upon fathers/sons/brothers/husbands helping out women in the family with household chores. There are people supporting women fighting abusive marriages, giving them strength to walk out. Who are all these people? They are feminists.

It takes people of both genders to stand in the way of women’s progress and it takes both males and females to even acknowledge and fight against injustice. So if you are from the later category, you are a feminist. The bad hair mentioned at the start of the post is a different story altogether.

The bride who never cried

On the unique date of 1/1/11, my husband and I got hitched (old post: My best friend’s wedding). We were in a relationship for four years (two years of which were long distance) before our matrimonial status bound us further.

Two years after the wedding, recently, I happened to watch the video of our wedding ceremony, all oscar-worthy performances, mind you, when I was once again surprised about a particular incident. This happened after the wedding rituals took place and it was time to take leave. In Indian weddings, at the end, the newly-wedded couple seek the blessings of elder relatives and the bride usually bids a very tearful farewell to her maiden home. One of the rituals had included my husband wearing a cloth around his neck at one end of which was wrapped a whole coconut. The other end of the cloth was tied to the free end of my sari thus symbolizing the handcuffs that now tied us to each other for our eternal life sentence. It was time to say goodbye. Moving together, trying not to trip each other up, we bent low to touch the feet of the elders from my side of the family and I thought to myself, “Oh dear, what do I do if somebody starts to cry?” I myself did not feel the least bit like crying. I was far too excited. But I had watched enough of Bollywood and TV to know what it is like and had also heard emotional stories from others.

I looked up searchingly at the face of the aunt I had just touched the feet of. Nothing.

An emotional uncle perhaps? No luck there.

My parents? Haha.

I even gave some relatives a hug, for God’s sake! Everyone looked so normal, I might as well have been telling them that I was just going to hop over to the corner shop to buy some potatoes. But perhaps, that was it. It really was so normal and so matter-of-fact that I was marrying my best friend.

Also, I had already spent more than two years away from my country, home, family and friends studying and later working in the USA. My father had accompanied me when I left and also visited me in between on office work there but I had barely met the others during that time. I still remember the goodbye at the airport where we cheerily waved to each other, me on one side and my sister and my mother on the other of a glass partition watching me leave, not one of us shedding a single tear yet again. Hell, I did not cry even when me and the hubby, his eyes all red, said goodbye to each other as we left India to study on opposite sides of the USA, he on the east coast and me on the west coast.

Back to the wedding scene. We sat in the florally decorated car that would take us to our place, where another beautiful ceremony for my entrance into my husband’s home awaited us. I rolled down the window as my side of the family gathered outside, still successfully staring dry-eyed at us. But why wouldn’t they? I had this stupid grin plastered all over my face too. It takes two to make either party cry and I wasn’t helping at all. I waved cheerily as the car started up and began to move forward. I glanced at my husband and was surprised to see that he looked a bit emotional. “Don’t worry. I won’t trouble you much.” I was going to say to him, patting his hand but he motioned to my younger sister standing outside and said very sympathetically, “I think she looks a bit sad.” I looked at her then and thought I saw a slight hint of sadness there but couldn’t be very sure since she was showing all her teeth too at the same time. We consoled ourselves that maybe at least one person had shown some emotion for me “leaving”.

And that is how, there is a video shot of me and the hubby waving energetically at the camera as the car turns, grinning like a pair of newly freed monkeys before disappearing together into the thick new jungle that lay ahead.

An ode to the lazy trap

It is comfy, it is soft and it makes you sink just the right amount into its lap. It feels so cozy that you could almost wrap it around you on chilly nights had it been a blanket. But it is not. It is a sofa and a darn good one at that. It is very simple-looking, made of a uniform off-white fabric and only borrowing some color from cushions decorating it at each end. But what it lacks in appearance, it makes up for in the services it offers.

Home after a long day’s work, it entices you to relax on it and once you do so, invisible hands arise from it to fasten themselves around you, to hold you tight, whispering sweet-nothings into your ear, promising to turn you into a couch-potato in front of the television.

After a hard workout at the gym, it makes you lean back on it supporting your happy exhausted body as you feel the muscles in your limbs begin to relax and snap back into their original shapes like pieces of springs.

It stands in front of the patio windows looking out at the blue skies, the green trees, the scampering squirrels outside and daydreams with you, making your mind wander and fly to far away places and people.

On a lazy afternoon, it encourages you to loll around on it on your back, legs stretched out along its length, as you go deeper and deeper into that engaging book you are reading and enjoying as much as the surface you are lying on.

As the clock ticks away into late night, it tempts you to spread your yawning self over it, turning itself into a temporary bed and gently pushing you forward into deep sleep.

Such is the lazy trap that sits in the living room, exerting magnetic pulls on you when you should be busy doing some work. So, finally you surrender and sit on it. Then after some time when you have to fight to get up from your too-comfortable seat and you laughingly say, “Help! I can’t get up. I’m stuck with some kind of glue to this sofa!”, you may or may not be joking.

Light coke, light pepsi, light Asia – Singapore!

The famous Merlion statue

This year, we decided to stop by at Singapore for around four days on the way to India in the month of November. Landing at Changi airport is like watching a trailer for the movie called Singapore that is playing outside. The airport is tastefully done, well organized, squeaky clean and this trend continues throughout the country. From there, we took a taxi and the talkative driver turned into a tour guide as he launched into a lecture on the country. Soon, we reached our destination – the home of a relative who had kindly invited us to stay with him. His three-year-old daughter is very adorable and the best memories of our trip are associated with her.

My favorite – baboons at Singapore zoo!

We set out for sight-seeing the very next day. There is lush tropical greenery around (60% vegetation) since it rains daily and the warm and humid weather gave the effect of being inside a greenhouse. Bright flowers exploded onto the scene at intervals and the unpolluted, clean air was a pleasure to breathe. The public transport system covers all places, is very well-organized and functions smoothly. We were very impressed with it as we criss-crossed the length and breadth of Singapore solely by train. The first place we visited was the Singapore Zoo which houses an extensive collection of many animals, including monkeys, which are one of my favorite ones to observe because they are such clown-like versions of humans! I enjoyed looking at the antics and postures of a variety of species to my heart’s content. In the evening, we leisurely strolled along posh Orchard road that houses a large number of huge, expensive, branded shops that are fun … to mostly window-shop!

Macaws at Jurong bird park

The day after, we visited Jurong bird park, one of the largest bird parks in the world. I fell in love with the entrance of the park, which had wood arches entwined with vines and overhanging colorful orchids. The park is large in area, with separate sections for hosting different types of birds. An entire subdivision is devoted completely to parrots and we were astounded at the sheer number of birds – parakeets, parrots, macaws, cockatoos – in separate enclosures that come under that classification. Some of the enclosures were a fantastic experience of walk-in ones with birds flying freely (only within its boundaries, of course) above and around us. Our knowledge regarding birds was greatly enhanced…who knew, for example, that pheasants were as beautiful as commonly known peacocks?

We hurried on to Sentosa island afterwards. It is fascinating to see how the island has been developed and decorated with theme parks, artificial beaches, rides, shows, statues, gardens, games etc to attract visitors. Among all these attractions we knew precisely what we wanted to see and headed straight toward Underwater World Singapore and Dolphin Lagoon and later on, to the famous laser show – ‘Songs of the Sea’. The famous aquarium is a glass tunnel under which you stand on a moving walkway and observe aquatic creatures swimming above and around you within it. The dolphin and sea lion show that we saw next was entertaining and adorable. After that, we enjoyed the laser show ‘Songs of the Sea’, which was truly one of a kind. It followed a fantasy storyline and projected laser lights dancing to music such that characters and images from the story came to life on curtains of water in the form of fountains.

Kaya toast and Kopi C!

We started the third day with a visit to historic Chinatown. After some time strolling through stalls selling oriental knick-knacks, we took a break at a small cafe where we sampled the famous ‘Kaya toast’ that we had read about. We got some with an order of ‘Kopi’ (coffee) and savored the tasty treat consisting of crisp toast slices with a special jam sandwiched between them. We then visited the beautiful Buddha Tooth Relic temple and museum located close by and admired the gorgeous statues and decorations inside. A sudden downpour of heavy rain left us stranded under the shelter of the temple for some time and worried us a lot since we thought that now our day was ruined. But, no! Sudden Singapore rains seem to have a tendency to induce such worries but leave the rest of the day clear after they finish the job!

Marina Bay Sands Resort

And that’s how we could visit the famous Merlion statue spouting water at the edge of Marina Bay waterfront under a rain-free sky. Many ‘touristy’ photos later, we decided to take the boat ride leaving at sunset, during the blue hour when the evening light is at its photogenic best. Standing on the open brow of the boat, a slight breeze picking up as it cut through the water, the sky subtly changing color as night fell, streets, skyscrapers, and bridges around coming alive with bright lights, Clarke quay, as we passed through it, bustling with activity from riverside restaurants and attractions – all this a mind-blowing experience now stored as a lovely memory of the trip to be cherished forever.

The infinity pool high up. Mind-blowing!

We had yet to visit the observation deck atop the Marina Bay Sands resort – the SkyPark - that gives a bird’s eye view of the country and we did that on the morning of the day we were scheduled to leave. The view from high up is stunning, no doubt, but a major attraction is the tour of the infinity edge swimming pool situated at such great heights. Visitors can view the pool only from a distance but just imagine the experience of lucky hotel guests who take a dip in it, enjoy the freaky skyline visible right beyond the water and pretend to be able to topple down 56 floors below!

Singapore Sling and its mock-tail version

As the description of the trip nears its end, an anecdote comes to mind. On the afternoon that we visited the Merlion statue we had to wait until sunset for the boat ride. Because there were hours to kill, we decided to visit the historic Fullerton hotel situated right across the busy street behind the Merlion statue. Stepping into the posh interiors of the hotel lobby provided a cool respite from the humid outdoors. When we asked for information about the well known landmark, a hotel staff helpfully informed us that we were standing in what used to be in the past, a common post office which underwent a make-over later on. We had read about the famous cocktail, the ‘Singapore Sling’ and passing by the hotel bar, we stopped to look at the drinks menu by the door. The hostess tempted us saying that the Sling at the Fullerton was the best and reeled us inside. We ordered the cocktail for my husband, a mock-tail version of it for me, sank back into our chairs and sipped our drinks in complete relaxation.

When the hostess dropped by for a friendly chat, she told us that she was from Russia and was living and working in Singapore for around two years till date. She mentioned that she loved the country and with a chuckle added, “One of my friends says that just like you have lighter versions of soft drinks like pepsi and coke (diet pepsi, diet coke), Singapore is a lighter version of Asia. Light coke, light pepsi, light Asia – Singapore!” Indeed. Singapore, with its high level of cleanliness and sophistication that mirrors highly developed western nations, yet displaying flavors of its underlying layer of oriental culture, fits the analogy of a ‘diet’ version of Asia perfectly.

Stunning Singapore Skyline

All photographs by photography enthusiast hubby - Myriad Moods

For more photos of this Singapore trip, please visit http://myriadmoods.com/2013/01/07/singapore/