Do You Have Just One Soulmate?

It's hard enough finding one person to fall in love with, but I was wondering if it's possible to find more than one. (No, I'm not being greedy - the Guy is quite enough for me, thank you. I'm just wondering theoretically.)

Is there just one person in the whole world with whom you can share everything, who gets you? I had believed so, but now I doubt it. It seems probable that you might have more than one soulmate, only finding one takes so much effort - it would be difficult to find another! (Just like there is likely to be life on other planets - it seems unlikely that the earth is the only inhabited planet in the entire universe, doesn't it?)

The idea that there is just one person in the world who is meant to share your life is very romantic, but also very sad. What happens if something goes wrong, if one of the two dies? Is the survivor to spend the rest of her/his life missing her/his partner? The Guy and I aren't happy being apart for more than a day or two - and a lifetime of such misery seems overwhelming. I would like to think, if something happens to me or if we break up, the Guy would find love and happiness again. 

But if you admit that you might fall in love more than once, is it possible to be in love with more than one person at the same time? It would be unlikely because once you find one soulmate you are likely to be more impervious to others' charms. But isn't it possible that you have two amazing best friends whom you find attractive?

Why I Disliked John Grisham's "The Associate"

As I said in my last post, kind friends have been lending me books. I got "The Associate" last week, and happily sat down to read it, as Grisham is a favourite for light reading. But my feminist doubts were aroused early on and refused to go away.

From the beginning, the protagonist is acting to prevent the disclosure of a crime he may have abetted - the rape of an unconscious young woman by the protagonist's friends. The protagonist himself seems blameless of the actual crime, as he was asleep when it occurred. But he repeatedly refuses to admit that a crime was committed or that his friends were to blame in any way, because the victim was known to be promiscuous and had had sex with all of them - the protagonist and his friends - earlier. So in spite of the fact that there was a video clearly indicating that the victim was unconscious and the rapists were aware of it, he blames the victim for wanting justice. He gives in to blackmail and goes out of his way to protect the actual rapists, and expresses his sorrow that one of the rapists, who is now happily partnered and about to become a father, should have his peace of mind threatened by the shadow of you know, this crime he had committed earlier. The Flying Spaggetti Monster forbid that the man's fiancée or parents should know he was a rapist! It would ruin his life! Why was the victim acting so unreasonably? Why couldn't she let bygones be bygones?

The author does show some sympathy towards the victim, depicting that she had apparently been traumatised by the crime. Yet the protagonist and his father repeatedly point out the promiscuousness of the victim, her drink and drug habits, and her apparently resultant unreliability. The victim's lawyer points out that nothing excuses the crime, and the father (also a lawyer) agrees, but they proceed to make a financial settlement. And given the fact that the protagonist never once expresses sorrow for the victim and that the story ends relatively happily for him (without his dear friend having to face any consequences for his action - in fact he happily walks away when the going gets too dangerous and leaves the protagonist to face the music alone, and the protagonist does not seem to resent it in the least), I suppose we are meant to sympathise with the protagonist and the rapists rather than with the victim.

Throughout the book I was hoping for a better turn of events, for the protagonist and his 'friends' to at least realise the enormity of what had happened, if not be punished for it, but while one of the rapists does express remorse and willingness to atone for the past, he is depicted as a recovered alcoholic and not quite mentally stable. (If he were in his right mind, he would never want to meet the victim and apologise, as that might lead to the case reopening, and the friends might be dragged into court! and their families might find out! and their lives would be ruined!) This whole thread of events left a nasty taste in my mouth.

I was deeply disappointed, especially as I have enjoyed Grisham's novels so much in the past. I had observed earlier that most of his women are well, lifeless - beautiful partners with not much to do for themselves, except in two of his novels - "The Pelican Brief" and "The Client" (out of the ones I have read of course). 

By the way, my favourite Grisham book is "The Painted House", which I'm sure few others will like, because it's not much of a thriller. 

Apologies for Slow Blogging

To all of those who expected frequent posts, apologies for my recent tardiness. Here's what I have been doing (and loving every moment of it)

1. Reading my favourite bloggers online, an activity that I had had to cut down on in the last few months
2. Sleeping as long and whenever I like
3. Having some relaxed times with the Guy 
4. Watching TV and movies at home (we completed re-viewing the Lord of the Rings series this weekend, yay!)
5. Partying! (Thanks to the Guy's terrific work team, us wallflower-and-dull-as-ditchwater types have been partying just about every week (If any of you are reading, you guys rock!))
6. Spending a little more time with Friends of Children (to be honest, I haven't done a lot of this yet, but I mean to)
7. Reading - thanks to kind friends and my last forage in Landmark (which is probably my most favourite place in all the world, except my own home), I still have a few unread books lying on top of my bookcase, and which I mean to savor slowly over the next few days.

What have you been doing?

A Seven-Year-Old Child - and How We Let Her Down

When I first read this bit of news, it immediately triggered my suspicions. (Maybe because I remember being sexually abused in a car as a child.) Turns out I was - probably - right.

The saddest part is the refusal of the police to admit there might be foul play involved. 

There is so much wrong in our society and state, and this is one very shocking reminder.

I'm Loving Being at Home!

I was beginning to wonder if I was making a mistake staying home in summer... It was too hot to do anything and I was afraid I was going to fall ill again from the heat. Or I could stay in the air-conditioned bedroom all day, like an invalid. 

But in the last couple of days, the weather's changed dramatically. Its cloudy, sultry, with a strong breeze. It hasn't rained much yet, but it's not hot any more, just warm enough that the breeze feels welcome. To top it all, there have been no power cuts lately. I am sitting with the windows open, the fans on and the music on my laptop on loud. I've been reading, chatting, doing laundry... just enjoying having all the time in the world and lovely weather. Delicious.

(With my luck, it will be back to 42 degrees and five hours of load shedding tomorrow.)

Airtel Ads

The one ad that I have probably loved more than any other is the TV commercial Airtel aired in late 2005 that went dil ki baat bata kar to dekho. (The entire script is here.) The idea of expressing yourself was simple. They shot it beautifully without showing phones at all. The ad just put up the idea of people reaching out and speaking up. No overt pushing of the product, but an attempt to forge an emotional bond with the audience - this was advertising at its best.

But there's one more reason why I loved the ad: it came at the right time for me. You see, this ad came around the time the Guy and I decided to be together. But we were living in different cities at the time. We used to talk on the phone for at least a couple of hours every day, and around half a dozen hours on holidays. Yes, we both used Airtel. 

So it seemed like it was our story that was implied through that commercial. The Guy and I had been friends earlier, but while we had enjoyed each other's company tremendously we had always kept a certain emotional distance. It was then, when we were in different cities and could talk unself-consicously on the phone that we discovered more and more about each other and realised just how compatible we were. Neither of us earned a lot then, and the phone bills we rang up amounted than to more than the house rent we paid (both of us combined). We even had a sharing arrangement in which the Guy would always call me, as his STD charges were lower, and I would pay him half the amount charged on his bill as calls to me. We recognised that learning more about each other was an investment in our future, even as talking to the other gave each of us more pleasure than anything else. So cash-strapped as we were, we made little effort to cut down on our calling time.

But Airtel has since failed to live up to the quality of that ad, or in fact anything near it. When I first saw the Madhavan-Vidya Balan ads, I thought, Finally! They're telling our story! But it turned out nothing like it. The first two were quite nice. (The first one on long-distance calls is ironic though, considering that the Guy has had STD calls at Rs 1 on his phone for over four years now.) But they got progressively worse. They were also surprisingly sexist. The husband doesn't care about preparing dinner (salad!) or tidying up before guests get home - he's watching a match! The wife has to nag him to please do some housework. (After all, that's her job, not his?) In the latest, the husband brings in the newspaper, and the wife is only interested in the horroscope. (Surprising, really, because in an earlier one she seems to be reading the Economic Times.) 

In all of these ads, it's the husband who activates or knows more about the service. The wife also uses Airtel, but of course cannot be expected to figure out its many features without male assistance. 

This one was just baffling. The Guy suggested Airtel is saying, "Give up on our network, use toy phones and pretend to talk."

And then came the ad for Airtel Broadband. With the mantra, "Impatience is the new life", it extolls the "impatience" of young people - growing up without many of the restrictions the older generation had seen, these young people - us! - want a better, faster life. The ad says it much better than I do - and here's a detailed description. 

We have used Airtel Broadband - not this super-speed one, but even the connection we had was great. Hardly any problems, and excellent customer service. It sucks that we had to move to BSNL because Airtel doesn't service this area.

Two Amazing Books I Read Recently

... are Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi and The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. 

You might have heard of them, as they're both pretty well-known. Persepolis was turned into a movie too (last year?) and created quite a lot of buzz. 

Persepolis is a graphic novel about a young girl growing up in Iran. It's narrated by the heroine, and is autobiographical. It's funny, very satirical and heart-wrenching - often all at the same time. It starts when the narrator is a child, and conveys the brutal simplicity of children as well as the political turmoil around very succintly. A beautiful book - I can't wait to see the movie. 

The Handmaid's Tale is the third of Margaret Atwood's novels that I've read, and probably the most famous of all her books. I loved The Blind Assassin, and Edible Woman was almost as good. I love the way her heroines are passive yet feminist - they are usually not bold enough to take action but convey heroism through their very inaction. 

The Handmaid's Tale lived up to all I had read about it. It was engrossing and frightening. It's set in a world where the USA doesn't exist and has been replaced by an autocratic, patriarchal society where women have set roles and are basically slaves. They wear uniforms to distinguish their class. Wives are the most fortunate, due to their marriage to powerful men. Marthas do domestic work, and Handmaids are baby-makers. That is, they are paired to childless men for the purpose of procreation. Handmaids have no say over the babies they produce - a Handmaid's baby is given over to a wife immediately after birth. 

 

This chilling erasure of women's identities is demonstrated by the fact that handmaids don't have real names. They are named after the man who owns them - the heroine is called Offred because the Commander who she is 'assigned' to has the first name of Fred. When Offred is moved to another home or is exciled and some other will take her place, the new woman will also be called Offred. 

I realise most of the books I have enjoyed recently have been written by women. Apart from these, I reread Sense and Sensibility, and just finished a novel by Georgette Heyer. This perhaps displays my taste - I usually prefer 'older' books and light Regency romances to contemporary writers. So I am glad to have discovered Satrapi and Atwood - I love what I've seen of their work so far and am eager to explore more. Now I need to get my hands on The Robber Bride.

Friends, Wine and Fun

Yesterday, a bunch of us went to the annual Friends of Children camp. There were 8 of us, we drove down in the late morning to get there just as lunchtime was getting over. (Close shave, that!)

We spent two hours with the students, talking to them and trying to give them a little advice (though as one of us put it later - we feel inferior talking to them as they seem so much smarter than we were at that age). Our only regret was that we had so little time, for the hours just flew past. 

We were all eager to visit a well-known vineyard not far from our way, so we made for it after we left the camp. Entry to the vineyard had closed by then, so we sat in the little restaurant, drank wine and ate and made conversation, while the setting sun scattered its golden rays around us. For summer the weather was wonderful - a cool breeze drove away the warmth. 

We sat there till afternoon lengthened into evening, and then made our way home. We had a lively discusssion on politics on the way back. It was a long day, and I should have been tired by the time we got home, but it was the wine or the fun I had that day that kept me excited and happy till late at night. 

I Am Free!

Or unemployed, whichever way you like to put it...

That's right. I left my job. This might seem a bit strange, considering this post, but I had been toying with the idea of taking a break for a while. Add to that my recent multiple bouts of illness, and the Guy and I decided we should take the plunge. 

So the Guy is going to be the sole breadwinner of the family for some time now, and I am going to be sitting home twiddling my thumbs. (Though I would have been twiddling more happily if it wasn't so bloody hot right now. Maybe I can cross my fingers and hope for rain, instead.)

I got admitted to b-school before my final year BA exams, and I got a job in campus there. I had to join within a few days of my last day at b-school. And both my two subsequent jobs, I joined within a few days of leaving the last one. So the longest break I've had in the last nearly-five years since I joined b-school has been two weeks, twice. 

It feels extremely liberating right now to have nothing to do, no plans in place. I am not sure what I'm going to do next. I do have some kind of plan in mind for the next couple of months (trust me not to not have any kind of plan!) but I don't want to think about that either right now... I'm going to sit back and lead a decadent life for the next few days. 

After that, you can expect more frequent blogging. 

A Mother's Day Picture

A woman and her husband working hard at crushing sugarcane for thirsty passers-by, while their little son stands looking on.

The Loveliest Drive I've Ever Had

...was last Sunday.

The Guy and I were up till early morning, as we often are on weekends, talking and watching TV. We went to bed around 4, and before we could drop off to sleep, he suggested getting up and going for a drive. 

We never get to see the sun rise, he pointed out. 

Me - I'm always ready for a drive!

I was surprised, given how lazy the Guy generally is, and especially surprised when he urged me to change out of my mango-stained shorts into something more respectable. (Since it was not yet five and very dark, and the Guy usually can't care less if I look shabby.)

It's the height of summer and very hot during the day (and regular readers know how much I hate the heat). But the heat had subsided and there was a cool breeze. 

Unfortunately, the sun was behind us, so we didn't actually see it rise. But hey, it was lovely weather, the roads were nearly empty, and we were happy. 

We went on and on - all the way to Lonavala. The Guy confessed he had intended to go that far, but hadn't wanted to raise my hopes in case he got tired and wanted to come back earlier. 

We were hungry by the time we got there, and nothing was open, so we cruised around till we found a place by the highway where we could have breakfast. Then we drove back again.