Crowning Gory!

 If the title makes you think of Trump,  I wouldn’t blame you. If after four years of being President, having a (not so successful) model wife and daughter and owning a beauty pageant he still couldn’t find a decent hairdresser or wig maker, it makes me wonder if all decent hairdressers turned him down, or was it him turning down all that is decent in life. The good thing is, still without a good hair do and with much ado about everything, the Trump is fading away. He’ll never be gone. We will  always remember him as an orange hologram floating beneath an orange tuft and I’m glad he’s fading away and Biden is fading in like a ghost of elections past. A white, old man, who’s kinda, sorta been in the white house and will be back there but will always be a shadow of Obama. The black man with a white shadow!

What I really wanted to talk about was, the series 'The Crown’ on Netflix. Yes, Diana is wonderful and the young queen is great and Camilla is just as horsey as in real life and onscreen she can have her hay and eat it too. Phillip is not as deranged and racist as he really is. Gimme a break. The series wants to portray the royal family as real individuals, blah blah. And some more blah.  Now don’t get me wrong, I love the show. I watched all four seasons and can’t wait for another. But me, I accept my shallowness. I accept I’m a hypocrite. I don’t believe in royalty and will (hopefully) never curtsy to one, but they make for a really interesting story line.

My beef is with the show-makers, the networks, the actors themselves. How could they? Why should they? After Diana’s tragic death, didn’t everyone get all holier than thou and said it was the paparazzi…they should have let her be? Why is there a show being made about a family that is still a family? Don’t they have enough scrutiny to begin with?  I say it not with a shred of concern for the filthy rich castle dwellers but just plain logic. Diana courted the media, flirted with cameras, used interviews and even then it is a common belief that she was hounded by the paparazzi. From what little I know of Lilibet, is that I know very little of her. If she had wanted to reveal more she could have and would have. 

To see your life played out like this is tragic. The Crapdashians would enjoy it. They live on camera and a show or two more about them, would just make them sell more lipsticks and underwear. I am aware of the zillion documentaries made about the royal family and I know one more doesn’t hurt - that much. It still must hurt and is wrong. It’s warped. The royals live a life not unlike the Truman show and then to have it mirrored all the time is another degree of bizarre. What is the superlative degree of bizarre? bizarrest?

What is the monarch’s role in all this? Why would you want to reign over your ‘own’ people when you have a parliament? As if that were not enough,  having  a ‘common wealth’ of colonies is totally deranged. What is common and whose wealth? Everyone’s heard of the Stockholm syndrome where the abductees sympathized with their abductors. There should be a name for the ‘Colonial syndrome’ where FORMER colonies willingly become members of a group headed by their colonizers. How convoluted is that? First you want to be queen in your own country and then you want to be a figure head over nations that shed blood to get rid of you. Hmmm... I guess karma is not a bitch after all!

Wemen are fabulous!

On a bus, crossing the central park on the 92nd street in uptown Manhattan, I am seated next to a lady in a smart skirt suit with the most delightful bag on her lap. The risk of initiating conversation with a stranger in NYC ranges from being ignored to being spat in the face. Or worse, shot in it. I take that risk for that eccentric but beautifully made bag. As it turns out, the lady is a talker, she tells me all about the designer, the theme and…and…and…gives me info on where to buy it. That too on sale!!! And I eventually do. Two! 

Nothing remarkable about the above mentioned story you say. But it is. We spoke. I asked, she answered. She derived joy by telling me about her prized possession and I learned a few things. Win-win! How many of us can say we have win-win random conversations on any given day? Let’s boil it down to, how many of us have conversations? Period.  We don’t have friends. We don’t want friends. We want followers. Growing up, the biggest thing was getting to know a celebrity, like be friends and meetup with them. Then about 20 years ago it became about being seen with a celebrity, a selfie, a video or something. And now, we just want to become celebrities. 

With a phone and some (read a lot of ) shameless self -promotion, most people think they are celebrities in a virtual world because 10K people follow and like them. Now if this was an organic thingy, it’s fine. Say someone has spent decades curating clogs, crocs and mules and the Imelda Marcos foundation inducted them into their hall of fame. Wow! Well deserved! But if someone is  a shameless, lazy, sociopathic,  idiot with ONE pair of Blahnik’s (Manolo Blahnik for the uninitiated) and think honking about THAT one pair on instagram, youtube and tiktok will somehow give them instant recognition. They don’t have a brain. I see poor girls (and women) posting odes to their own beauties. Yes! Read that sentence again. Such a poor shot at quarantine minutes of fame! 

This self-validation for their feminity and beauty is not just limited to vapid, vacuous, wannabe, whatever it takes, women. It is the bane of all women. Even the so called successful women. Women with careers, children, access to power still look for self-validation of their physical appearance. Which is kinda, sorta okay in a ‘we can do what we want to' feminist way but the lengths they go to, in order to achieve this validation is a slap on every feminist’s hirsute nether regions.  Finding boutiques to sponsor outfits and jewelry and then having to @ all of them, getting up at 5 in the morning to find locations to get shots and then taking someone along with no photography skills to take pics that they need to alter with free filters on their phone, all for a like from someone with a voyeurism fetish. That doesn’t make them a celeb, it makes them a victim.

I love beautiful women,  I enjoy their beauty and I admire beautiful, successful women. I love outfits and jewelry. I truly do. What’s not to like? Imagine Madeline Albright modeling her outfits in the 80’s in some local magazine to get an ego fix. No way she would have her pins/brooches on exhibition now.  She wouldn’t even have a long, powerful, glamorous, glorious career. She wouldn’t have been the celebrity that she is now. There is no alternative to hard work especially if you already have a BLOODY job! Man or Woman. 

Speaking of jobs and men, we women are trying to break stereotypes and pry more and more jobs away from men. Right? But why have we given them our vanity case? Have you seen the make-up women are expected to put on their faces? It’s not to beautify your face. The make-up alters it. Go to youtube and see what’s popular. No just look at any woman on a bill board. The make-up is not an enhancement it is a renewal. The mouth has to be bigger, the eyebrows arched, the cheek bones chiseled, false eyelashes, and not a patch of skin should show. Concealer and foundation should cover EVERY pore between your neck and ears. Who do you think invented that? Drag queens. Men! Men who need to make a transformation and BECOME women. We already are. They need to cover their stubble and soften their face. We have oestrogen! We have soft, luminous skin. Their eyebrows need to arch way high up into their foreheads. We already have comparatively narrower foreheads. It’s great to be a drag queen - men wanting to look like women - but women wanting to look like men who want to look like women is just daft. We have to value ourselves more. There is a reason why some men want to look like us - because we are fabulous! 

The one thing we women having going for us is that when we bond we talk about love, life and career. We talk, we have conversations. It makes us understand ourselves better. When I was quite young a long, long while ago, the (quite young) husband came back from office all flabbergasted. He was accosted at the water cooler by a senior colleague in uniform who used this opportunity of small talk to bandy about gruesome details about his urinary tract inflammation. What a shock? Generally, men neither divulge nor digest such information. We women, such empathetic beings that we are, talk about UTI’s, abusive husbands, truant children and uncomfortable underwear ALL the time. We also talk about our successful recipes, super talented kids, our fitness regime and the sides effects of buttocks (and botox). We communicate. We soothe. We placate. We vindicate. And most importantly when we have a good circle of friends, we validate. We validate each other. 'You look good in that Saree’ from ONE dear friend is worth a million likes. 

One friend in real life is worth a 100 thousand followers!

Free Gifts

Pleonasm and tautology have their own separate abilities, but together they are wasteful and pretentious. Especially in a term I see everywhere. On every website, pamphlet, sign board and everybody’s mind. I read the term ‘free gift’. As if it’s a real thing. Things are either free or are gifts. They cease to be one or the other when put together. They cancel each other out. Commercially, it’s a bait (or is it a hook?). Oh wait, it is a ‘Free Gift Offer’! They offer you a free gift - a plastic sheet - to cover the new fangled, cybernated, extortionate refrigerator they want you to purchase. As consumers we have been conditioned to seek these offers only to take the edge off an affliction called the buyer’s remorse.

Giving gifts is a surprisingly complex and important part of human interaction, helping to define relationships and strengthen bonds with family and friends. It is a ritual which is usually reciprocal in some way or form. Having said that, people assume the reciprocity is value based. Not based on intrinsic value, but monetary value. And ‘free gift’ seekers want to be rid of this reciprocity. So they hint for gifts, ‘I really like the shade of your lipstick, I never seem to find such shades’. Err, do you want me to buy it for you, because I ordered it from the rainforest website after seeing a gazillion ads on TV? A particular bane of the diplomatic community is people being blatant about ‘You’re going to Switzerland, cuckoo clocks are aplenty and pretty , so bring us some back’. What? Will you pay me back? You didn’t mention that. Who on earth uses cuckoo clocks in the era of apple watches? I’ll tell you who? Just cheapskates who feel that they have won the lottery in the ‘free gift’ department and can score an item or two from friends (or underlings). And when even after winning these offers, they don’t feel great, they ask for more from more people. It becomes the cliched vicious cycle. If only they knew!

If only people knew that the gifting ritual does more for the gifter than the receiver. Giving to others reinforces our feelings for them and makes us feel effective and caring. When we give a gift it is an act of selflessness to show our gratitude to the recipient. A lot of people when marking important events in their life, or on holidays have a 'no gift’ policy. If you don’t let me give you a gift, then you're not encouraging me to think about you and think about things you like. You are preventing me from experiencing the joy of engaging in all those activities. You do people a disservice by not giving them the gift of giving.

Who is on your gift list is telling you who is important in your life. It says who is more important and who is less important.  More than unimportant, there are so many undeserving ones. It applies to charity as well. Some are worth it, but others not at all.  Drug addled people begging for money. Able bodied boys asking for a coffee. Women with a litany of toddlers and babies milking (no pun intended) motorists for cash. That distant relative, who is forever looking to score a loan that he has no intention of repaying. Undeserving people I say!!!

Social look-down

We’re so lucky to be able to stay home during this pandemic. First, that we’re aware that it is a virus and not a curse from the Gods! Glad Xi Jinping said ‘No Ming Ling’ early on. Okay he could have said it a tad sooner, but better late than never, right? Ya, so I was saying, we’re pretty lucky. We’ve got our jobs, our schools and all our shoppings on the internets. We don’t have to hang around people unless we like them. Family being an exception!

People are now making bread, and are proud of it.  Most of us do that everyday  - rotis, puris, parathas and dosas -  regardless of the lockdown. Folks are on and on about yeast starters and yoghurt bacteria - all basic survival skills. Same thing with learning languages. We should all be speaking at least three anyway.   All these over achievers during lockdown are just people who were underachieving in normal times and are oversharing to hide that fact. 

It’s been a while and everyone has come up with a coping mechanism. Yours truly, began with Marie Kondo-ing her cupboards and then realized it’s much too painful to handle skeletons made of fabric, shoes and paper compared to the ones made of past deeds so the cupboards were firmly shut and the dreariness of everyday life took over. Or at least that’s what I thought it would be. Life is anything but dreary. Life is life. Waking up, cooking, eating, cleaning, working, internetting, exercising, talking, reading, working, eating, internetting, eating and cooking. 

Mr. Crown Virus has been an equal opportunity offender. He has put people out of jobs, denied health care to most and of course has given us all an open invitation to Yama Devta’s party. The only people who are restricted entry are those masked people who mostly stay at home and wash their hands. It’s not like he doesn’t like them or they can’t step into his abode but basically these are people who insist on pursuing  earthly pleasures for a bit longer.  Those who are fortunate enough to still rock this planet albeit cooped up  in their human enclosures have all gone back to enjoying the best things of life that are free. Art, music, generating yeast ( outside our bodies), observing flowers and birds and worms (outside our homes), wifi, walks and of course reading. 

The only profession that did not get hindered is the teaching profession. Teachers googled and zoomed with children and gave them enough homework to keep their parents who were (not) working from home, busy. Parents??? Oh Parents. Having to contend with their child(ren) for the whole day for weeks and teach their own children? Most of them revolted. My child can’t see a video and understand the difference between a circle and a sphere. These teachers are doing nothing they said. Truth is, the teachers were doing nothing - in the babysitting department. Even if teachers had students engaged with study online, the parents still had to be involved. All day! 

The 'once a week' homework had turned into everyday classwork. Parents were googling seven raised to the power of three and Newton’s laws. Everyone who used to wax eloquent about quality time with their children have had to readjust their child rearing economics. It’s quantity time now. Parents have to face their brats, they can’t blame institutions if their child is not eating healthful foods, they can’t blame other classmates if their child is disruptive and inattentive. Parents have been finally made to parent their child, supply nutrition, teach them manners, make sure they still know that books exist and hopefully raise a decent generation of resilient geeks. And that, methinks, is the one if only good to come out of this pandemic. Discipined parents! 

Weeding Children

Like everything in life my gardening skills are mediocre at best and pathetic at worst. I hate to grow vegetables because I see it as too much pressure of growing something to fruition that I can make use of. That’s exactly how I think of my children. I like to raise them and enjoy having them but I don’t want to undertake the pressure of making them useful in life. They’re just like flowering plants. They bloom when they want to. A little bit of neglect and they wilt. 

Seriously, growing children is like raising plants. We nurture them. Feed them. Hydrate them. And yet it’s not enough. You can’t have a garden, not even a balcony garden of fifty pots without a good pair of shears. Pruning mercilessly is the key to get an all rounded plant. Works for kiddos as well. You have to mercilessly ground them, make them write pages and pages and not think twice before cutting off their hair and making their heads look like a spiky cactus. 

Tough love aside, there’s this whole concept of over indulgence in both brats and creepers. You can’t over water, you can’t over supplement, you can’t molly coddle and all of it is subjective. There is no set parameter of pampering for either plant or child. Ditto with temperatures. Some need deep shade, some need a hot sun. One child is forever cold and the other is kicking his covers away all night. In both cases, trial and error are the only solution. Quite a few plants are obliterated in the process but humans somehow seem to be more sturdier and use the decibel method to ask for help. 

Pests. Peskiness. Weeds. Misbehavior. Who knows how to handle any of it? An insect repellent, grounding, yanking them off the soil, a big lecture. What works? Whatever works, when it does, both parents and gardeners know this - IT SHALL COME BACK. You just can’t water your garden, look at the lovely blooms and say I’m done for this life or for this season. Nah! Aphids, mealy bugs, fungus etc. are all regular visitors. They have to be dealt with. You can prevent them, but it requires a lot of effort too. Same thing with children. They begin with digging their noses in public, stealing biscuits and soon enough they are not submitting their homework.  And if you think you can fix any of it permanently, you’re delusional. They have a lifetime supply of ideas that can wreck your life in an instant. And yes, ‘back talk' can be prevented but it requires a lot of effort too!

Weeding out misbehaviors and correcting the ph balance in soil is tedious work. Tedious and monotonous. This whole nurturing thing, is  a basic human instinct and it has a companion. Any guesses? Pulling out one’s own hair? Nope. Mercifully it is not anything we can do to self harm. Have you seen a gardener at work? A mom folding clothes? Guess what they’re always doing? Humming. I can’t prune, or repot without corrupting a few tunes. What mother can endlessly clean, fold, teach and caress without a screech or two? My singing skills are mediocre at best and pathetic at worst and yet I’m glad, my plants and kids make me sing. 

Selflesslies

 I live quite an isolated life in the city because I rarely meet people in packs and when I do, they are not obsessed with crooked mouths, squinty eyes, deflated nostrils,  side boob, the dustbin in the background nor the sucking in of the cheeks. So when I’m unleashed onto the world, like I was, on a recent holiday, I'm agape! My eyes widen and my nostrils inflate with something between mirth and disgust. I’m au courant with the idea of taking control of your image - literally and figuratively but a-selfie-a-second  drives me mad. With cameras on their laps to take staring down mug shots whilst dining with eighteen other selfie perpetrators everyone  thinks they're Alice in Wonderland and that each morsel they consume somehow has changed their looks and worse? That it needs to be documented for posterity. 

At first, I assumed that I was jealous of all the peacocks strutting about and then when the disgust didn’t wear off, I knew there was more. More, but what? And then as most answers tend to be, this one was just as simple. Narcissism.  I’m guilty of doing the dress up and strut thingy. Also guilty of trying to create glam shots (trying not succeeding). I guess we’ve all made the effort and continue to do so in preserving, documenting, collecting memories of our beautiful selves. So how are we different from the above mentioned Alices?

It’s the same difference as picking your nose on a bus completely unawares of your surroundings instead of  consciously searching for snotty treasures in the solitude of your own bedroom. It’s narcissism that’s not deliberate.  The new millennia was all about being present, being conscious in the moment, mindfulness, zen, the power of now, showing up, and every catch phrase that says focus on your thoughts and inner self. They’ve remained catchphrases. We’re not just focusing on our external selves, we are doing it mindlessly. With our tongues out.

A selfie is a microwaveable instant meal whereas a photo is a dish being prepared with pots, pans and spatulas. There are those, that inspire and make an earning and have a following. Some are functional. You’re alone and you need picture with a tree stump or a friend. Fair enough. But not every selfie is a work of art nor an attempt at creativity.  Self portraits by artists have always been the rage. Caravaggio  as Goliath in ‘David with the head of Goliath’, Paul Gauguin  as a jester doll in his 'The little one is dreaming. Etude’ weren’t mindless snapshots of their visages. When Michelangelo painted himself on the Sistine Chapel, it was a clever and funny insert in an otherwise serious “Last Judgement” fresco. Art is not mindless. Creativity is not devoid of intention. Amrita Shergill, Frida Kahlo,  Manjit Bawa, Tagore, Hussain, Monet, Van Gaugh etc. weren’t doing self portraits out of habit. They were doing it for cash or creativity not because they didn’t know what to do with themselves.

 When Narcissus saw himself in the pond, his village did not join in. Why not? Why are multitudes obsessed now? What is this mass hysteria? Why aren’t people fidgeting, or doodling or chewing their hair anymore? How has the camera phone replaced every human quirk? Something even a camera couldn’t do. I wish I had answers. I wish I understood this self-obsession with the self itself.