Spark - November 2012 Issue by Spark Editor

Spark

Vol 3 Issue 11 42 pages

Word.World.Wisdom November 2012

“Life Online” 

Fiction

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Non-fiction

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Special Feature

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Poetry

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Photography

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Social Lens

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The Lounge

Featuring Parul Sharma, Judy Balan, Sagarika Chakraborty Archismita Choudhury, Kamayani Bali Mahabal Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

05 November 2012

Vol 3 Issue 11| November 2012

Dear Reader, We have a very interesting theme that we have explored this month—’Life Online’. Life today is unimaginable without the internet and the way it has permeated our day-to-day life is something we would have never thought of even 15 to 20 years back. Yet, the internet is not without its disadvantages. Our team this time has attempted to analyse this very quality of the internet—of having two sides. We have fiction, non-fiction, poetry and photography as well as two special features—one featuring three authors who began as bloggers a few years back and another featuring two people who have chosen internet as the medium to voice their ideas of activism. We do hope that you really enjoy this issue as much as we enjoyed putting it together. We will see you again next month with another interesting issue. The Spark team also wishes its readers a very happy and ‘sparkling’ Diwali! - Editors

Contributors Ankit Srivastava Anupama Krishnakumar Deepashri Barve Dhanya M Gauri Trivedi Parth Pandya Sathappan S Vani Viswanathan Vishnu Prasad H Viswanathan Subramanian Yayaati Joshi

Writers of the Month All rights of print edition reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the Spark editorial team.

Judy Balan Parul Agarwal Sagarika Chakraborty

Voices of the Month

Spark November 2012 © Spark 2012

Archismita Choudhury

Individual contributions © Author

Kamayani Bali Mahabal

CC licensed pictures attribution available at www.sparkthemagazine.com

Concept, Editing & Design

Published by Viswanathan

Anupama

Anupama Krishnakumar

Krishnakumar/Vani

Vani Viswanathan

editors@sparkthemagazine.com Coverpage design : Anupama Krishnakumar

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

Inside this Issue POETRY Kingdoms Lost and Gained by Dhanya M FICTION Vignettes by Parth Pandya Kay by Vishnu Prasad H Sweet Sixteen by Anupama Krishnakumar NON-FICTION Are you Online? by Gauri Trivedi Being With You by Vani Viswanathan Where Are the Good Old Times? by Sathappan S WRITERS OF THE MONTH |Blogging—Of Writing, Discovering and More Featuring Judy Balan, Parul Sharma and Sagarika Chakraborty VOICES OF THE MONTH |SOCIAL LENS | Raising Our Voices in Protest—Online Featuring Archismita Choudhury and Kamayani Bali Mahabal THE LOUNGE STORYBOARD| FILM FREAK Get Carter : The DVD is Worth It by Yayaati Joshi TURN OF THE PAGE| Vladimir Nabokov’s Pale Fire by Ankit Srivastava THE INNER JOURNEY| What Do We Strive For? by Viswanathan Subramanian SLICE OF LIFE| A Summer Afternoon by Deepashri Barve PHOTOGRAPHY | Virtual Life by Anupama Krishnakumar

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Poetry Kingdoms Lost and Gained Two close childhood friends unite after years, thanks to the internet. Dhanya M writes a poem that reminisces the friendship.

by Dhanya M I was waiting For so long For you to come once more To sit together beneath the mango tree Where once we had a little swing. I was waiting for you To hear you laugh And see the stars sparkling in your eyes. Remember how we played king and queen Beneath that tree which gave sweet fruits, Conquering magic lands with swords of imagination. The mango tree is still there But our kingdom is lost and so are our swords Still I was waiting. (thinking) May be you would come again And walk with me a bit once more 4

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Talking, laughing and holding hands You never came. But Now you have sent me a ‘request’ In a virtual page for so-called ‘friends’ I accept; when have I declined any requests from you? Now we will ‘meet’ sometimes In a world of ‘chats’, ‘likes’ and ‘comments’ It is good, I know, this makes people close Even across the seven seas. More magic than ever before, Maybe as magnificent as our lost kingdoms of childhood Still, I miss our old mango tree!

Dhanya is currently pursuing Ph.D., at the Indian Institute of Space Science and Technology, Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala. She loves nature, music, dance, science and the words. Her too imaginative mind sees poetry in motion everywhere around and writes down some of it that chooses to flow through her.

(Call me sentimental or old-fashioned) Maybe it’s because I miss the stars in your eyes, Your smell of Pears soap And the way your fingers felt. But as I am told, Now, this is where people meet As if near a playground swing. I am told it is fun And, of course, You are only as distant as the next click.

Picture by Laertes 5

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

Non-fiction Are You Online? by Gauri Trivedi

The internet has pervaded our lives like never before and as things stand, today, it is unimaginable for an urbanite to live a day without the internet. Ironically, though, the internet has made tough things simpler and simple things tougher, points out Gauri Trivedi.

“It’s 11.45 p.m.” She types.

mence any differently? Music on cell phones has replaced traditional bedside alarm clocks for “So?” comes back a quick rejoin. most, if not all of us. Equipped with smart “I am working on something.” He writes. phones by our bedside, we wake up to its inces“Like what? Browsing news from all over the sant ringing, flashing of new emails and reminders for the day. And from there on, there is just world?” blinks a retort. more and more of internet in our day, through“All done with your brain-defusing T.V. out the day. shows?” He returns the favour. Everything takes place at the click of a mouse or “The T.V. has been turned off, if you haven’t the movement of a finger. From buying a dress noticed.” She delivers the last line before setting to payment of bills, planning a trip to booking a aside her laptop and leaving the room. vacation, sending the kids’ absence note to read“Ok, join you in a couple of min. darling.” His ing a newsletter from the school, distributing invitations for a party to dispatching thank you last message beeps on her mobile phone. notes, keeping in touch to saying good bye, all Who would have thought a couple sitting in the happens at the pace of your internet connection same room would ever require the internet to – high-speed and paperless. And this is just the communicate? Well, they don’t need to, they utilitarian part of being “online”. The internet don’t have to, but they just do! This is the undisdoes a lot of things other than saving time and puted reality of an urbanite today; speaking your energy on tasks which, we would otherwise be mind takes effort, typing doesn’t. doing in person. It presents ample opportunities And if the day ends with a beep, can it com- for socializing and entertainment and thus adds 6

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a huge recreational value to our day-to-day life.

as distractions. At restaurants, we post a picture of the delicacy before we eat it! Oh, and all that after we have “checked in” our location. Ironically, we strive to maximize “quality” time with those close to us, only to ignore them when they are seated right across the table from us.

There was a time when computers were used at work and could not be brought home. Now, we have laptops and tablets and Wi-Fi connections for them, resulting in work following us home and also the other way round. Undoubtedly, the internet has brought about a revolutionary change in communication and convenience at work. And it is not only our professional life that the internet has altered with its arrival.

The obsession with staying connected via social networks takes us farther away from people actually close to us but are not as internet savvy and maintaining a noticeable profile online brings us in proximity with people we are often In my opinion, what the internet has profoundly better without. affected is our relationships; the way we see them and how we nurture them. We have learnt In a way, with its omnipresence, the internet has to use and master this wonderful communica- created a kind of a gratuitous contrast. It has tion tool to our advantage but have forgotten to made hard things simpler and simple things put a limit to its use. There is no barricade that harder. restrains its advent in our private lives. Like rain For example, the internet has made saying water blending into a stream, the internet has “NO” easier. Can’t make it for a party? Decline covered just about every area of our life, nothing the Evite invitation. Forgot a friend’s birthday? is sacred and not a thing remains impervious. I Post a belated “happy B’day” message on Facehave seen people taking their smart phones and book. laptops inside the bathroom, so much for privaNot in the mood for dinner with the same peocy! ple again this Saturday? Find something else to Facebook, Twitter, and various other socializing paraPicture by Paul Jacobson phernalia that we use more often than we drink water these days (which, I must point out is absolutely essential to maintain good health and appearance!) have lessened the divide between the personal and the impersonal, close and the distant. Family dinner times at home are disrupted by text messages and we don’t even take them 7

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do, send in an email. Certain words or even excuses which would not find their way out of our mouths if we came face to face with their recipient or had to call them, flow effortlessly on virtual paper. Rejections that would otherwise embarrass us don’t feel as brutal when we read them and not hear them directly.

volve the other friends and in order to be politically correct, their recent postings will also have to be taken into consideration.

Your making an important announcement on Twitter may offend people close to you who might have expected a private conversation first instead of being held at par with the rest of the Feelings of awkwardness, deceit or guilt, can all world. be very efficiently concealed while saying NO These are just a few examples of how much we online. You are also saved from being subject to let the internet meddle with our personal busiinterpretation based on the tone of your voice ness. The problem is not with the technology, it or facial expressions, which give away a lot, is with us. when you turn down an offer of assistance or refuse to yield a favour. Hiding behind the wall The world and our life in it without the internet of an electronic medium gives you the freedom are unimaginable from where we stand today. So what do we do? Do we worry about its intruto choose and the strength to refuse. sion in our homes at odd hours or be grateful Does this form of expression take away some of for having even the farthest of our loved ones in the feeling from what a refusal is supposed to front of our eyes with a simple device? mean? Maybe yes, but does it make it easier to I would say “Like” it or not, the internet is here say No? Definitely so! to stay. So, embrace it but make sure you leave it And while harder things get easier, a few simple behind where there is no need for it. You defithings get complicated en-route the internet. nitely do not need it to cajole your spouse sitting When you have a set of mutual friends on the across on a couch in the same room as you to social media, you cannot just “like” a picture come to bed. An impish smile might just do the that catches your fancy. The pressing of the trick! “Like” button has a lot of implications that in-

Gauri Trivedi is a former business law professional who makes the law at home these days. A mom to two lovely daughters, her days are filled with constant learning and non-stop fun. All of her “mommy time” goes into writing and finds itself on her blog page s h tt p:/ / me ssy h o me love ly kid s .b lo gs p ot .co m/ and h tt p:/ / pastaandparatha.blogspot.com/ and if she is not writing she is definitely reading something!

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Fiction Vignettes by Parth Pandya

Parth Pandya pens little vignettes that give us a glimpse of what the internet can be and can do in our lives.

stifling, the commute frustrating, and the people annoying. His antagonism towards the world was cooled down each evening with a cold bottle of beer. He sat down on his chair, stationed food around him and meticulously placed the bottle on a coaster. The day, or at least the part that mattered to him, had finally begun. He opened up the browser and feasted on the naiveté in people. A few taps of the keyboard and he found something that perked his interest. Pictures of a family vacationing in a corner of Mexico. These people must believe their lives are an open book, he thought. No inhibitions and no safeguards. He ignored the pictures of the happy family, the content father, the beautiful mother and the pristine beaches. He found what he wanted – pictures of two girls frolicking in the water, posing naughtily in their swimsuits, with no consciousness of what or who they were. Jim Malloy took a deep breath, smiled a feeble smile and proceeded to confiscate their privacy and their innocence. The World Wide Web is a snarky place, he thought, and I am a vicious spider.

The lazy sun was stretching its rays at an angle that made Nate squint his eyes. The color of the sea was beautiful and the horizon was well lit, but with his daughters waving back at him against the direction of the light, a good picture wasn’t looking likely. Just as well, he thought. Maybe it is time to stop focusing on taking photographs and actually concentrate on the pure joy of watching them play. 13 and 11 – ages where they were still willing to be Daddy’s carefree girls. While he watched them frolic about in their swimsuits this day in the water, his mind drifted to the time they would cry their lungs out when he took them to the swimming pool. Their smiles today would forever be ingrained in him. Their pictures, taken in the resort pool earlier in the day, would however be part of the family picture collection on Facebook. He sat in his hotel room later that night, sifted through hundreds and finally posted thirty pictures to an album titled ‘Cancun vacation 2012’ Jim Malloy retired to the pleasant comforts of his rambler in Houston at 6 pm. The day was 9

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son that exceeded a dozen sentences. Heaven hath no comfort like a grandma satisfied, even if Jyoti ben had been the smartest cookie in her she clicked on a lot of popups in the browser village in Kutch. If there was any doubt to the that she should not have. street smarts and the resilience of that woman, the success of her son (who’d made it big in #3 America), whom she brought up single“If you are reading this, you are perhaps just as handedly, was proof enough. Arun, her son, had surprised as I am as I write it. People have little made his way to the green shores of America. hope in experiments like these. But, as I stare at He settled there with Anila, and together, they the screen, I think to myself, why not? Sanjay, bore a daughter and a son, blessed with an you are naïve and silly today, and the optimism American passport and an accent to boot. Jyoti reflected in persisting with this letter will hold ben had toiled through the last decade, making you in good stead. Hang on to it. The future trips to Chicago to help raise the kids. Age was maybe uncertain – you don’t know where you asked to stay on hold as the young ones still held will find work, you don’t know who you will end her hands and worked their way up the initial up with in life, you don’t know if you’ll own that years. But as the years passed by, Jyoti ben’s utilBMW you always dreamed up as a prized posity was greatly diminished. Arun was not able to session. I can’t predict the future, I can only figure out how to relate to her, the grandchilhope for it to come to fruition. But if all else is dren were done with their need for grandmothlost, remember this. If you can look into the erly protection, and the travel was soon becommirror and still see me, you haven’t lost one bit ing a burden. over the years.” Jyoti ben was now part of a growing tribe of Sanjay looked up from the screen with tears in grandmothers with no life to call their own and his eyes. His world had crashed around him with no one to either care for or to take care of them. no one to give solace. Help came from the most The ten-minute phone calls were worse. With unexpected quarters: himself. An e-mail service no face to match, with no hands to touch, with had offered a time capsule ten years ago – with a accents hard to decipher, she was losing touch. promise that ten years hence, the e-mail he But Jyoti ben wasn’t the smartest cookie in the wrote will be delivered to him. Sanjay looked in whole village for nothing. When Arun next the mirror and thanked himself. All was not lost came to India, he bought her a computer. With yet. the same childlike enthusiasm with which she #4 had learnt how to ride the bicycle, she delved into the world of bits and bytes, learning the Every day was a news day. Every day was a day world of the modem and the browser, instant someone expressed their opinion on the World messaging and e-mail. Her grandkids were a joy Wide Web. Every day a celebrity would tweet a to see, even if they occasionally ran away from grand thought from their hare-brained intellects the webcam. She had a conversation with her and every day passed with the world inching 10

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forward with bits and bytes. He called it the grand social experiment of our times. It was as if the entire human race had built a parallel universe that was tangible in the web pages that came through wires into their homes and offices and cell phones.

day was an opportunity for Nagesh to exploit the frailty of the human race. A small spark to ignite a fire. Deny the holocaust, suggest that North Indians are racist, cuss Sachin Tendulkar, praise Pakistan – the list was endless. Nagesh knew that pressing the right buttons triggered the worst behavior in people who lived a life out of character on the web. His anonymity was his armour and their anonymity was their weakness. He was a troll ruling the web, and he would not be weeded out anytime soon.

Today was every day and every day was an opportunity for Nagesh Subramanian. Rediff? Times Of India? How about some international flavour? Guardian maybe? New York Times? In the swirling mass of words that came out in the

Parth Pandya is a passionate Tendulkar fan, diligent minion of the ‘evil empire’, persistent writer at http://parthp.blogspot.com, selfconfessed Hindi movie geek, avid quizzer, awesome husband (for lack of a humbler adjective) and a thrilled father of two. He grew up in Mumbai and spent the last eleven years really growing up in the U.S. and is always looking to brighten up his day through good coffee and great puns.

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

Non-fiction Being With You by Vani Viswanathan

Vani Viswanathan writes a dripping-with-cheesy love note.

I resisted you for long. Thought I had enough, and didn’t need you. I knew you would distract me from my studies, I knew my spending would increase exponentially because of you, and I would lose sleep at night because I’d want to look at you, feel your face, and smile. I knew, because I’d seen my friends go down this route.

your friends, in your backyard, through status updates, videos, photographs, memes and notes? We loved listening to music, tunes we knew and quite a few unknowns on radio. Even when we were out, we could keep ourselves in touch with our work, an email here and there, a quick document sent to satisfy the professor – it just made it easier for us to be together without But then when you came to me – like, handed feeling guilty about getting distracted. It kinda on a platter – it was hard to resist. I couldn’t seemed perfect, and I thanked god for bringing come up with a logical explanation for why you you into my life. and I would be a bad idea. My friends would scoff at me for letting you go, for they knew you When you write something like this, people usuwere the best I could get for now. It would be ally think something sad is going to happen. Or stupid to say no, for who knows where we’d end maybe something bad. Well, here it’s not exactly up – I said ok, and there, we got attached. so. We’re still very much in love. For all my resistance earlier, and my promises to self that I It’s always hard at first – I didn’t know where I wouldn’t get too involved with you, it happened. could touch you without things going awry. I’d wake up at night and want to see you, and Well, it wasn’t just about touch, but we got comask of you tales from far away. Some kind of municating as well – Facebook, Twitter, obsession does set in, I guess, in every relationWhatsapp, Google Talk, everything. We liked ship. During lectures, I’d want to catch up with clicking pictures and uploading them on Instayou discreetly, while the professor droned on gram after using some filter that made even our and the class dozed off. I wanted to hold you all abysmal photos look pretty. We thrived on bethe time, hoping for something interesting to ing connected all the time – isn’t it wonderful to happen. I depended on you to wake me up, to know what’s happening around the world, with 12

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remind me to return the library book, to make tached to a phone, but I’m just one of the first me laugh, to comfort me when I want to cry. I’d few to have owned up to how much we treat a feel jittery when you were not at your best of smartphone like a real person in our lives. health, and couldn’t wait for you to feel all charged up. It’s strange, really, but it’s also lovely, this kind of dependence. People would think it’s creepy to get this at-

Vani Viswanathan is often lost in her world of books and A R Rahman, churning out lines in her head or humming a song. Her world is one of frivolity, optimism, quietude and general chilled-ness, where there is always place for outbursts of laughter, bouts of silence, chocolate, ice cream and lots of books and endless iTunes playlists from all over the world. Vani was a Public Relations consultant in Singapore and decided to come back to homeland after seven years away. Vani blogs at http:// chennaigalwrites.blogspot.in

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Writers of the Month Special Feature

Blogging : Of Writing, Discovering and More by Anupama Krishnakumar One of the biggest developments that the internet unleashed was the arrival of blogs a few years back, which grew to become great forums for showcasing talent, having discussions, exchanging ideas, making new friends and most importantly, finding an audience in a world where becoming a published author for an aspiring writer was still a formidable task. Anupama Krishnakumar speaks to Parul Sharma, author of ‘Bringing up Vasu : That First Year’ and ‘By the Water Cooler’, Judy Balan, author of ‘Two Fates : The Story of My Divorce’ and Sagarika Chakraborty, author of ‘A Calendar Too Crowded’ – all of whom began as bloggers a few years back before they became published authors. Parul, Judy and Sagarika talk about their days as bloggers, the roles that their blogs played in their writerly journey and of course their books, among a host of other blog-related things.

(From L to R) : Judy Balan, Parul Sharma, Sagarika Chakraborty 14

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Go back in time to the years 2003 and 2004. It was the time when blogging was beginning to surface as a new phenomenon on the internet, especially in India. Budding writers, particularly those looking for an avenue to showcase their writing skills took to blogging like fish to water and soon blogs turned out to be wonderful forums for showcasing talent, having discussions, exchanging ideas, making new friends and most importantly, finding an audience in a world where becoming a published author for an aspiring writer was still a formidable task. Interestingly, as the trend of blogging caught on, the themes of blogs became diverse and more and more people, not necessarily writers, got on board, carving their own spaces on the world wide web and filling it with their thoughts – some even as elementary as daily diaries.

orangecandy.blogspot.com), earlier titled, ‘Bringing up Adi’, in 2007. “When I had a baby, I wanted to write about that side of my life. Starting the blog served the purpose of getting me to write regularly, admirably well,” explains Parul.

Judy Balan, author of the book, ‘Two Fates – The Story of My Divorce’ (Westland, 2011), entered the blogging universe in 2009. Talking about why she started writing her blog, ‘Woman and a Quarter’ (http:// womanandaquarter.blogspot.in), Judy says, “I was at a place in my life where nothing was working. I had just got divorced, had a very young child and had no choice but to quit my job because she really needed me. And I was only 27. I didn't have any direction, didn't know what my next step was going to be, so I started the blog for personal joy.”

Perhaps the most important consequence of blogging is that it opened the doors for many budding authors to discover their writing in a new light. It ignited the spark in them to test the waters in the Indian publishing scene. Blogging, in the case of some writers, became the stepping stone to turning into a published author, by letting them explore their writing capabilities without much restraint, by making available valuable feedback in the form of blog audience and last but not the least, by giving them the confidence to take the next big step forward. Suffice to say For Sagarika Chakraborty, author of the book, that many popular authors today began as blog- ‘A Calendar Too Crowded,’ (Niyogi Books, gers a few years back. 2012), who was seriously into well-recognized Parul Sharma, author of the novels ‘Bringing Up non-fiction writing when she started her blog Vasu – That First Year’ (Westland, 2009) and sometime in 2010, the question that raged inside ‘By the Water Cooler’ (Westland, 2010), began her head was, “Would anyone want to read my her blogging life in 2006 and started her popular poetry, my angst, my rant and the stories I spin blog ‘Radio Parul’ ( h t t p : / / in my head, or would I be ignored as just anoth15

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er girl who is penning down her thoughts?”

ing into “peer pressure” in virtual life, she says that her blog in the initial days was “all about ‘Wordless Wednesday’, ‘Thoughtful Thursday’ and other memes to get traffic.” But the blog never really fit into a single genre. “I wanted to keep my blog away from my serious writing of gender studies and thus have kept it as a place where I primarily write fiction and my take on life,” she explains. The topics that her blog features include Mumbai Mondays – a series of posts on the city, childhood stories and ‘Letters to My Daughter’, among others.

Interestingly, although Sagarika’s currently active blog, Deviant Wave (http:// endowedwithmetis.wordpress.com) was started in 2010, the author admits to have begun her blogging stint way back in 2005, as an anonymous blogger. “It was more of an anonymous blog and it was my heartbreak rant journal. I did not want the guy to read it, yet I wanted a space where it felt nice to be read without being judged. However, a year later, I found my own writing to be juvenile and very whiny - needless to say, I closed the blog soon after,” shares Perhaps the most relevant aspect of blogging is Sagarika. the lessons that it has taught these authors. Judy admits that through blogging she learnt to be Judy too admits to have blogged anonymously disciplined as a writer. “It got me into the habit initially. But when she began writing in ‘Woman of churning out content frequently—something and a Quarter’ she was very clear that she that helped hugely when I got a weekly col“wanted to make it a writing exercise as opumn,” she shares. Parul believes that she got posed to using it as a cathartic tool.” Therefore, better with her writing through blogging, just as the blog was no longer a space to vent out her is the case with any other form of practice. feelings but a place where posts were meant to Sagarika maintains that blogging helped her read like a column, even though it drew from acknowledge her strengths and weaknesses as a her personal experiences. Relationships, writing, writer and learn that one cannot fake a writing parenting breakups, life and letters to The One style for long. are some of the themes that Judy focuses on in her blog. So how much of an influence was her blog in the journey to becoming a published author? Parul too began blogging on and off in 2006 Replies Sagarika, “Blogging gave me the confibefore she started writing regularly at ‘Radio dence that people wanted to read me. The Parul’ in 2007. Initially, the space used to be a friends I made on the blogosphere were the parenting blog but over the years it has grown to ones that helped me to actually see it through.” encompass her writings on books, movies, muIn fact, feedback from her blog readers on few sic, her family and travel. As Parul succinctly chapters of her book before it was published puts it, “The one thing the blog cannot claim to gave Sagarika some perspective on her work. In be is focussed!” her book, ‘A Calendar Too Crowded’ she has Sagarika shares that for her initially blogging was blended her area of interest, Gender studies, “all about fitting into the ‘blogging world’”. Giv- with a fictional writing style that she focuses on 16

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in her blog. The stories are centered on womanhood and as the author explains, ‘The women in my book are nameless, however a majority of them are real. The situations in my book will make you remember a similar one that you read about or faced—for they are common ones that all of us face in life.” Sagarika’s next book is a work of non-fiction—a legal book slated for release in another two months and published by Eastern Book Company.

For Judy, the blog had a very crucial role to play in getting her work published. To begin with, Judy’s blog grew popular within six months after it was started, so much so that three of her posts were turned into plays and another post got published in the chicken soup series. As for her book, ‘Two Fates : The Story of My Divorce’, it all began as a post “joking about how cool it would be if I wrote the parody of Two States, given that I was divorced”. Interestingly, many of her readers got back to her asking her to attempt the book. “So I did. I wrote the book as an experiment—to see if I had it in me to write a full length novel. And when I completed it, I

thought I'd send it to some publishers, just like that, and viola!” she shares excitedly. ‘Two Fates’ is essentially a parody of Chetan Bhagat’s ‘Two States : The Story of My Marriage’. Says Judy, “One day, I stumbled upon the parody of Elizabeth Gilbert’s ‘Eat Pray Love’ titled, ‘Drink Play Fuck’. Amused, I picked it up, and later learned that the guy who wrote the parody had already sold movie rights. That's when I wrote the blog post joking about writing the parody of Two States, which I happened to be reading then just to see what the hype was all about.” Judy’s next book also belongs to the rom-com genre, published by Westland and due for release in April 2013.

Parul, however, says that her blog didn’t play any direct role in getting her first book deal. As someone who had always wanted to write a novel, Parul sent out her manuscript to the publisher once she got it ready. Both her first book ‘Bringing up Vasu : The First Year’ and second book ‘By the Water Cooler’ were published by

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Westland which will also be publishing her forthcoming third book. Shares Parul, “As a new writer, my first two books were still exploring themes that were familiar to me, namely, motherhood and life in an office. The third book however is about a world that is removed from my own reality. I am very excited about that.” Although her blog didn’t land her a book deal, Parul is quick to point out that one big advantage she got through her blog is her blog audience. “It has helped me by giving a small set of readers who were already aware of me and my writing even before I got published. For a complete newcomer, that's quite a bonus.” Now that she is a published author, how does Parul view her blog now? Has its focus or the way she approaches her blog changed? Pat comes her reply, “Not at all! It is still the same place where I hang out when I have things to ramble on about. It's still fun, which is why I still do it. I still like my readers and want to make them laugh and I hope like mad that they like me too.” Sagarika says that her blog has become all the more important to her now. As a published author, she feels more readers watch out for her blog. “It warms my heart when people who have read my book come searching in order to read more about me and thus stumble on my blog and bookmark it,” shares Sagarika. However, according to her, this also means that there isn’t any room for badly written posts, lest

she scares off her future readers. Judy maintains that nothing has really changed about her relationship with her blog. “I did get a touch conscious, initially, but not anymore. I am decidedly myself on the blog and I write as if no one is reading. At least, I try to,” she says. As she looks back at her journey as a writer so far, Judy feels it’s all divine intervention or serendipity. “It wasn't just about getting a book published, it opened a whole new door for me—something I didn't know existed,” she shares. Ask her what she would like to tell bloggers aspiring to become authors, she suggests, “I believe if you keep looking till you find the thing you love to do, you will at some point, stumble upon it. I don't strategize. Serendipity is so much more fun.” Sagarika says it’s important to listen to your blog’s readers. “Love your readers and if they criticize, reach out to them and hold them close; remember they don't know you and thus have no obligation to be nice—the chances that they are correct in their observations, thus run very high.” She also suggests that it is important to read other blogs to open the mind and important to compare one’s writing style with others and ultimately, improve. “Look at your blog and ask yourself, do I want to see this in print? If your answer is yes, follow your heart!” she adds. Parul’s advice is simple but sums up the reality very well—“Write a lot, get really good at it and if someone still doesn't find you, then proactively send out your writing. That's the only way I know.”

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

Fiction Kay by Vishnu Prasad H

A man and a woman meet online through a language learning group and an interesting online relationship blossoms between the two, until one day when the lady, Kay, vanishes suddenly from the web and his world as well. Vishnu Prasad captures the essence of online relationships through an interesting short story.

I met Kay online in a language learning group. Kay. She is from the U.S. and has been a close friend for quite some time now. She loves India for the incense she burns in her house and for the dark black hair of the people here. She used to complain to me about the fact that she is a blonde and has to dye her hair to get the pitch black colour of the Indian woman.

tain of comfort. “My mom’s a bitch,” she scowled. “You are not supposed to say that about your mom,” I typed quickly as if I had heard something bad. “Oh! You poor little mama boy..”

She would then continue to bicker about her “You guys can use your hair extract as Mas- mom for hours together whileIi tried to inject cara,”. She would scoff. my Indian moral science lessons into her. This “And you people can use yours to get gold would continue for a long time and both of us would then just look back at the time we wasted loans,” I would reply. and show faces. We tried to express the pantoWe used to chat really long and a sense of camamimes that we wanted to show through smileys, raderie had grown between us within the first short codes and swear words. week of our online encounter. Within two years we were very close friends The relationship grew through the thousands of who had not seen each other or heard the other lines of conversation that piled up between us. person’s voice. Well, the topic of video chat and And we grew really fond of each other and startsharing pictures did come up, but we decided to ed sharing really intimate things. The veil that keep the mystery going until we were absolutely distance had spread between us acted as a cursure of seeing the other one in person. Some19

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times one of us would so desperately want to see the other person, but then the other one would act as the disincentive. I grew fonder and fonder of her and I couldn’t wait to talk to her. Even though I hadn’t heard her voice, whenever I read her chat messages, I could hear someone inside talking. It was the sweetest voice that I had ever heard. Like a thousand bells ringing. She was older than me, by two years, but experience didn’t put a wall between us. She would sometimes call me a kid, as if she was some 15 years elder and had two kids. Time went by and as we grew wiser, we started to appreciate our company all the more. And then one day, she just disappeared. Vanished from the huge web of anonymity. I waited for days together. I searched frantically for her with only her name to hold on to. I tried desperately to reach her. All in vain. The web just kept entangling me more and more. She was lost in the confusion and chaos that prevailed. They say time heals everything. I know it from experience. Time has helped me recuperate from every single wound that it inflicted on me during its unstoppable flow. It helped me forget my losses and whenever I tried to stay and hold on to a memory, it would just sweep me off my feet and place me in a whole new milieu. But Kay was different. She was not a person. I had never met her. I had never heard her voice. The whole time I talked to her, it was just like talking to someone inside myself. I used to mock people who got married with relationships spawned off from this “e-world” of chaos and confusion. But now I knew why it clicked. It’s like meditating and talking to one’s self. Those relationships

are just much stronger because all the while, you are talking to someone to whom your mind gives shape and sound. Kay was something more than a box that appeared on my computer screen. She was me. Four months went by without a single line typed between us. I slowly began to find new avenues to spend time. Internet is one place which cultivates habits. It’s like any other routine. Everything you do on the net has an order. Some people open their browser and open Facebook, Gmail, Google etc., in that order. For some the order might differ. But everyone has an order. And it is difficult to change something once it becomes a part of your routine. Kay was part of my routine and it was difficult to stop looking for that green dot on my chat box. Nevertheless, I grew out of that habit and engaged myself with other things to do. She became a warm, sweet memory which would often come back to haunt me. One day, I had to stay late at office for a buggy customer. Staying late is different from working late. Here I just had to stay back for a conference call. I was free to do things until the douche bag was ready to talk. I was trotting through the web lazily when suddenly the chatbox popped. “Hi“. It was Kay. I initially thought of avoiding her. She had not been social after all. She left without a word and she was not entitled to my company, I thought. But then that warm feeling overtook me. The memory just sped to my fingers. “Give me a reason that would convince me to continue talking to you. Else I don’t want to talk to you any more.. I demanded compensation as

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

a victim of her lack of etiquette.

to decide that she was telling the truth. So I was dejected with my mind pulling up this answer.

“I was raped“. I don’t know whether there was a power shortage but the lights were blinking. I suddenly started feeling cold. I had this cautious feeling of something overpowering me. As if a part of me was being burnt. I wanted to look away from the screen. But at the same time, this piece of lifeless technology was my only contact with my most precious friend., And now a victim of a crime which never occupied my attention during the countless debates in paper. I simply did not know how to react. I simply did not know what to tell her. How should I console her? Suddenly social rules started coming in between us. I started thinking in terms of the socially acceptable response and not the morally correct answer. My mind simply would not give me an answer. Instead it provided me with a myriad of answers. Some of them perverse. Some of them socially correct. Some of them the response of a friend. I don’t blame myself for this plethora of answers that came rushing. I was not sure whether she was telling the truth. We used to joke about a lot of things. And this thought brought to my mind the question “Did you enjoy it?”. I had read somewhere of some idiot saying that if a women can’t resist rape then she should enjoy it. One of the most perverse thoughts a person can come up with. But any thought you chance to hear ,once it glances through your mind, provided the situation , presents itself before you. It is your culture and education that makes you chose the correct one and give up the wrong thought. And I knew Key was serious. I knew this girl and I could read her thoughts. I trust her and that was enough for me

The next one was “ Did you kill the son-of-abitch?” I was thinking like her family. I wanted to inflict as much damage I could to the bastard who did this to her. I wanted to avenge her. Again someone inside me suggested that it was not the right thing to do. She must have already gone through these questions a billion times. If she could resist the offender and inflict some damage she should not be here now. And if she couldn’t do anything then she must be living through those thousand potent violent things that she could have done to him and blaming herself for the things she did not do. Finally my priorities started to evolve. I told myself, I am not here to think of the society. I am not here to judge anyone. I am not here to make sure that justice is delivered. I am here as a friend. I am here as someone who Kay can fall upon. And then the right answer just popped in my mind. “How are you now?” “I am fine. A little tired, but I am fine.” “I missed you a lot.” “And I missed you too.” “You know, you should, coz there has not been

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

one moment in the past few months that I have “Kay“. I called her. not thought about you.” “hmmm” And this time she came up with a joke that “You are not to blame. No matter what anyone weighed heavily on me. That made me feel sad tells you don’t tell yourself that. And don’t you and feel awful.“I know, but you see, I was busy put down your head in shame even for one mobeing stupid.” ment. I am there for you whoever be against I felt terrible at these words. She must have you.” gone through a terrible lot of things during the She was silent for sometime. And suddenly she past four months and a lot of scrutiny and said, “I love you. I want to see you.“ And I blame that the society must have attributed to knew this was the right time. her. She must have been referred to as the “rape victim”. Newspapers must have celebrated her. Conservatists must have slut-stamped her. Feminists must have blamed her for damages she didn’t inflict. And because of all this, probably, she thinks that she is the reason for this terrible crime that befell her. I couldn’t take it.

By day Vishnu used to write code, design software and architect systems tasked with creating wonderful media applications that add colour to people's lives. By night he would put up mean things on his site, dream of being a mahout, sip coffee, keep the neighbours awake by playing the bansuri and play chess. Once the dream possessed him, he plunged into the uncertainty and chaos, leaving his day job. Now he spends time reading, writing and sleeping. He is inspired by music, gorgeous photographs, kickass books and beautiful landscapes. Occasionally, he goes mad and thumps away in his Bullet to where the road leads.

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

Non-fiction Where Are the Good Old Times? by Sathappan S

The internet has no doubt ushered in a whole new change in our lives, convenience and connectivity being just some of the dimensions. However, even as new has replaced old, Sathappan feels what the internet has also done is to take away human emotions and connection out of the equation. Read on.

The internet has changed our lives beyond our imagination… Well, that probably is the understatement of the century. It has removed middle men and put information in people’s hands. If not for the internet, I don’t know how else you can empower individuals. The internet has enabled people to decide what they want to do and has given them tools to achieve their goals. What centuries of governments couldn’t do has at least been made possible in a few decades, thanks to the internet.

and how-to videos. Wikipedia is how 90% of school science projects get done these days. New always replaces old. Most often, new is good; new is efficient; new saves time and takes humanity to a newer level. Technology has done just that, and will continue to do so for years to come. Email replaced snail mail. Facebook is now starting to replace email. SMS introduced a new way of communication. Whatsapp is now replacing SMS. Chat rooms were the craze at the turn of the new millennium. But they are now being replaced by Facebook. I am sure something new will come along to replace Facebook. And then something else will come along to replace that. Every change will bring about convenience and efficiency to our lives. Every change will organise and sort and arrange and to some extent decide our lives.

The internet has done much more – it has brought us closer to people living thousands of miles away. It is so easy to stay in touch with loved ones living in different countries, see them on video chat everyday, and get updates on their everyday lives within minutes. It has been a platform for many talented people to showcase their talents to a global audience, breaking any lanHowever, as with any kind of technology, there guage barriers. It has made human effort easier are downsides to the internet too. I believe that – YouTube is a treasure trove of information our ‘online life’ is depriving us of an actual life : 23

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it has reduced the human connection, the human touch. When we buy tickets, we don’t chit chat about the weather with the ticket salesman. We don’t make new friends while queuing up to pay the electricity bill. The internet was designed to make us independent by making information readily available whenever we wanted it – buying a new car, learning a new language, or renting an apartment has been made so much easier because of the shared knowledge enabled by user reviews submitted online by thousands. But I am afraid it has made us more independent than we had initially envisioned. There is a fine line between being independent and being detached. For instance, I do miss writing letters. No amount of emails can replace what a single heartfelt, handwritten letter can communicate. For a large part of my childhood, my grandfather lived in Malaysia. I used to regularly write to him when I was a kid. My postcard usually took two weeks to reach Malaysia and his reply took another two weeks. I used to ask him about his life and what things were like in Malaysia. When I read those postcards today, my questions look silly. But my grandfather always promptly answered my questions. He knew I loved aeroplanes, so every postcard he sent me had a different picture of an aeroplane on the back. And he knew I collected stamps. So he ensured he used a different stamp on each of his letters. I still have all those postcards and those stamps, and they mean so much to me today. They represent something much bigger than the content in them – they demonstrate the bond between individuals in a tangible way, through something the person engaged in with her or his own hands and one that you can hold. My grandfather passed away last year, and when

the family was going through his stuff before locking them away forever, they found a few letters and photographs in his old suitcase. My mom later told me there were a few post cards in them which I had sent to him when I was a kid. I am usually not emotional, but I couldn’t stop shedding a tear when I heard that. I wonder how the internet would give me such a memory to hold precious. There is something else from my childhood that I miss terribly. Back then, before the email revolution, we used to buy greeting cards to send to every relative for various occasions. My mom always made me and my younger brother sign the greeting cards. We also used to receive greeting cards for Deepavali, Pongal and birthdays, and I used to save them up. Those greeting cards always contained lines that I would now consider cheesy, all in the name of a poem, and my favourites were the ones written for Pongal, because they were in Tamil and were for some reason even funnier. I used to love it when I would open a greeting card and a 10 rupee note fell out. As a kid, there was no better birthday

Picture by Bull3t

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gift than that. Some cards played a song when you opened them, and some others unravelled into 3D structures when you opened them. As a kid, I would try so hard to decipher how a tall 3D building or an animal went inside a tiny little greeting card when I closed it. I remember spending hours, tilting my head and looking at the greeting card sideways, trying to find out where the animal went. I am sure there are others like me! To this day, I would definitely like to receive a handwritten letter or a greeting card once in a while. I want to know that, at times, people take the pains to do something for you. Opening up your laptop and drafting a happy birthday email is still nice and thoughtful, but it’s not the same as going to a store and picking a greeting card and adding an extra line or two to the printed verse and mailing it a few days in advance so that you receive the post just on time – for receiving the card on time almost made all the

difference! Maybe I am just one of those people who find change difficult. Sometimes, when new replaces the old, the mind tends to miss what you had and reminisce the good old times. Maybe I miss the old letters and greeting cards because they remind me of my childhood. But let’s face it: technology has indeed in many ways removed the human connection and emotion out of the equation. It is tough to convey a sincere apology or genuine happiness over emails and Facebook comments. I feel it always ends up looking very impersonal. While I am still grateful for what my phone can do in terms of connecting me to a whole other world, I still miss the good old times. I am sure I am not alone.

Sathappan is an engineering graduate from NUS, Singapore. He is an investment banker by profession and a techie by passion. He loves books, movies, AR Rahman's music and travelling. He is also an ardent fan of old tamil poems and tamil history books. Originally from a small little town in Tamil Nadu, he currently resides in Singapore.

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

Fiction Sweet Sixteen by Anupama Krishnakumar A relationship that takes shape through the play of words on Facebook, Twitter and chats. A story about the lives of two people in their sweet sixteen, written by Anupama Krishnakumar. It all began with some silly tagging of photographs taken during a class outing four months back. She was extremely wary of these socialising sites, particularly Facebook and Twitter (her parents had ingrained much sense in her describing them as dangerous) but no one could really escape the slow intoxication that they fed into their users. Well, no one at least of her age could really escape the addictive pangs of these tools. Sweet sixteen – ah, the traps! Even before she could realise what was happening, she was glued to the chats, likes, comments, tweets and retweets involving her friends group.

thus even four months back). Well, what she didn’t really know was that he was a master of words – he could throw them together, churn them in a magical pot and dish out mesmerising thoughts like a wizard of words. The thing about this whole relationship of hers with him was they hardly spoke in class but when they were back home they spoke under the warm covers of the words that flowed out from them – free and frantic and soothing and spellbinding. Sometimes it was all about 140 characters, sometimes cryptic notes and status updates on Facebook and very often, chat messages. She felt dizzy and her heart ached. She felt guilty at times too – was she betraying her parents? Hadn’t they invested so much trust in her? And here she was treading an unknown path, not knowing where it was heading to.

When his friend request came first, she was not sure. She didn’t know him so well. He was one of the tallest fellows in class, a very able basketball player, a back bencher with a chiselled face. As someone who did pencil sketches herself, she couldn’t help thinking that he would be such a But the voice of her heart boomed subduing the good model for a portrait, what with his slowlydesperate screams of her mind – but isn’t this so becoming-visible moustache and sparkling eyes beautiful? This affair of words – this slow, giddy (well, did they really sparkle? She never thought feeling that unfailingly seized her being every26

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time she conversed with him not directly but through his spectacular play of words. Well, the very reason she accepted his friend request was because he had commented something to the effect of ‘a glowing black cascade’ about her long hair flying in the air in one of the class outing photographs and she happened to see the comment because she was tagged in that photograph. The play of words had made her blush.

brow and upper lip. And she could smell the scent of his body even now, more than a month later, sitting in her bedroom, browsing on the desktop. She still remembered his tweet that night – “Kissed a beautiful bird tonight and there’s honey on my lips.” When the twitterati excitedly bombarded him with questions on the seemingly romantic disclosure, he tweeted that it was a line off his new poem that he had written. She had sighed in relief.

And it was the attraction that stemmed from the same play Over a month from then, of words that one fine day things had not changed much took her to his house for an but there was something that academic year end get togethhad changed too. The words er, and hang around quietly weren’t as enticing. She wasn’t even after all their friends left sure if his ways had changed or and his parents went out for whether it had something to a party, the attraction that do with her way of looking at stemmed from the same play things. of words that made her She took out a post-it note, watch a video recommended by him on scribbled the words ‘Don’t forget to clear the Youtube sitting beside him, shy, anxious and yet cache’ and stuck it at the right end of the moniexcited. tor. Then, with trembling long, fingers, and guilt The next few moments were a blur for all that weighing heavily on her heart, she typed the she knew was that his hands reached out to each search phrase on Google, ‘How do I find out if and every part of her body, which tingled in ex- I am pregnant?’ citement as beads of sweat erupted lining her

Anupama Krishnakumar loves Physics and English and sort of managed to get degrees in both – studying Engineering and then Journalism. Yet, as she discovered a few years ago, it is the written word that delights her soul and so here she is, doing what she loves to do – spinning tales for her small audience and for her little son, bringing together a lovely team of creative people and spearheading Spark. She loves books, music, notebooks and colour pens and truly admires simplicity in anything!

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

Social Lens

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Voices of the Month Special Feature

Raising Our Voices in Protest – Online by Vani Viswanathan The internet not just revolutionised our lives, it brought revolution to our doorsteps. How has activism benefitted from the internet, and what constitutes online activism? Is it effective at all? Vani Viswanathan speaks to two online activists, Kamayani Bali Mahabal of ‘Kractivism’ and Archismita Choudhury of ‘Being Feminist,’ in search for some answers.

Two Egyptian women tired of sexual harassment on the streets everyday join forces to create an online platform where other women can map the places where they get harassed. A revolution to overthrow authoritarian regimes in Middle East spread with assistance from Twitter. An online campaign against the illegal detention of a 22-year-old Kashmiri youth led to his successful release 277 days after his arrest. To say that the internet has revolutionised our lives is an understatement, but the truth is it has also brought revolution to our doorsteps. At the click of a mouse (or several clicks, if you’re more into it), it is today possible to make a strong statement about a cause you are passionate about sitting in the comfort of your home. While this is not to take away the importance of being in the streets making your voice heard, the

internet has given us the opportunity to take our causes to more people, faster and more efficiently – volumes of information can be shared at ease; multiple kinds of content can be featured together, be it videos, text, or audio, and it has the capacity to reach millions in a matter of minutes. Two people who are extensively online in their approach to activism, talk to Spark this month. Kamayani Bali Mahabal is a lawyer cum activist, a rigorous online campaigner who coined the word ‘Kractivism’ as an attempt to bridge online and offline activism. Archismita Choudhury, founder of Being Feminist, relies entirely on the online medium to dispel myths about feminism. These two women are successful in their own ways in using the internet towards their ends: while Kamayani takes on specific campaigns –

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

such as a movement to Free Waqar, the 22-yearold mentioned earlier – Archismita’s approach is a broader attempt to generate a positive discussion around feminism. Both of them, despite their different ends, swear by the strength of the internet, and specifically, the social media, in their jobs.

Kamayani Bali Mahabal

For Kamayani, it is the extensive reach of social media, and the possibility of information becoming extremely viral in a short period of time, both of which are not so easily accomplished through offline activism, that makes it vital to her job. To her, online activism is not creating anything new; it is simply enhancing offline means of activism by making it more effective towards creating social change. The rise of the internet and supporting new technologies – such as digital and video cameras, which enable easier recording or documenting – was accompanied by stronger political protests and mobilisation. “The new technologies, particularly social media, are both a catalyst for democratic reform as

well as an instrument to aid more traditional methods of protest and civil resistance, for me,” she says. For 17-year-old Archismita, however, social media is beneficial on a whole other level. As a student, this is the platform she can use to engage in activism, she says. Additionally, social media is what prompted her to start Being Feminist in the first place – as a recently enlightened feminist, she could not find a page that celebrated being a feminist – why wasn’t there one? “Was it because of the stigma associated to feminism that people were unwilling to like a page which was explicitly ‘Being Feminist’?” was a question that popped into her head frequently. She wondered why she couldn’t start a page that would seek to dispel myths surrounding feminism, and that’s how Being Feminist was born on the 6th of April 2012. “That is the power of social networking sites – anyone can create anything for their use.” A little over six months old, the page has amassed a large following, with over 13,000 fans. Besides the ease with which she could start a discussion around feminism, Archismita considers social media a boon in terms of the vast amount of knowledge, ideas and people she has come across thanks to the various platforms. “I wouldn’t HAVE a job without social media, I’d just be another student and FAR more ignorant of realities around me. That is something I’m grateful for…” she says. Which Platform? Of the myriad platforms online – be it dedicated websites, blogs, YouTube, or social media platforms such as Twitter, Facebook – each has a

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unique purpose to it. Most activists use multiple platforms, with content in one feeding into or linked to the other. Also, most platforms allow embedding of content from different platforms – sample a YouTube video that can be shared on Facebook, or the ability to automatically convert every Tweet into a Facebook update. For Kamayani, the fight is led by her blog, which she supports with her Twitter and Facebook accounts. Additionally, she has recently started creating animated videos that give more information about her campaigns in a concise and visually engaging way. Given the importance of getting more information to more people in a

most because I’m mostly a Facebook person and also because it is the first thing I started – I have a different bond with the page,” she says. Facebook seems ideal in this case because of the extensive discussion needed to get more people to engage with the cause. She would also like to start a video channel, but she feels severely human-resource strapped – the reason she says even the blog, with its huge potential, cannot be updated as frequently as she would like with own content rather than sourced content. Clearly, presence on just one platform is not enough anymore – even if one can lead, a decent presence on at least the major social media platforms is essential. Pushing Them Towards Their Goals

Archismita Choudhury

short span of time in order to drum up attention on the cause, relying extensively on multiple channels is essential. Similarly, Being Feminist is led by the Facebook page, supported by a blog and a Twitter account. “I rely on Facebook the

The strength of the medium aside, how effective has online activism been? Kamayani cites a number of instances where online campaigns she initiated or was part of have successfully contributed towards ending oppression. Key among these is the protest against mining giant Vedanta’s controversial social responsibility program ‘Creating Happiness’ that invited student filmmakers from across the country to document a success story from Vedanta-supported community initiatives such as schools. Known for massive displacement-related issues, the company was accused of masking its actual activities by sponsoring programs such as these, by many activists. Activists also alleged that the company was sponsoring some 114 students of popular film schools in India, in what was considered a ploy by the company to manufacture its opinions and “control the ‘could be’ voices of future.” An open letter written by Kamayani led to celebrated filmmaker Shyam Benegal 31

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withdrawing from the judging panel for the competition, followed by Gul Panag, leaving behind only celebrated ad filmmaker Piyush Pandey – who had created a 90-second film about a student who had benefited from studying in a school supported by Vedanta, that formed the core of the ‘Creating Happiness’ campaign. Similarly, a holistic campaign to free Waqar, supported by a website, Facebook page and Twitter hashtag #FreeWaqar, helped gain international attention on the human rights violation that Waqar had to face with his illegal detention. With pressure coming from Amnesty International, which gave its stamp recognising this detention as an instance of rampant police and state repression in Kashmir, Waqar was finally released in June this year, after nearly a year in detention. In both cases, the internet was key to raising public awareness in the issue – in the Waqar issue, Urdu newspapers picked up website screenshots to publicise the issue.

woman BECAUSE I make the best roast beef, but I certainly don't feel that it will define me any longer.” This, to Archismita, is proof enough that attitudes can be challenged through social media, and that, to her, is a success that the medium has helped generate. Obviously, the next tricky question is what defines success itself? Archismita has an interesting response: the number of carefully planned and orchestrated troll attacks executed on their Facebook page. “This is a sign that this page is annoying a lot of people – and they usually happen after our page links sexist, disgusting, exploitative, slut shaming pages which need to be taken down, to our members,” she says – a sure indication that the page is reaching more people. With Kamayani, there are two important criteria to consider: engagement and activism. Engagement looks at how often individual members engage with the issue/ cause, measured by considering, for instance, how many comment on or share a blog post, ‘Like’ a Facebook update, favourite a video or re-tweet messages. The activism criteria, on the other hand, look at the number of people who are affirmatively taking the action that the cause espouses. The activism criteria are a reflection of the influence a cause has to move its online followers and friends to action, says Kamayani. “Both the engagement and activism measurements will obviously be contextual, and can only be understood within the context of the cause and the linked online community.”

With Being Feminist, success is a reflection of the number of people who visit the site and admit to their (mis)conceptions of feminism being challenged: “I’m glad people are rethinking the propaganda of patriarchal media branding feminism as a sexist movement, even if they do not say it – which was (and is) one of my major aims – that people do not reject feminism outright on the basis of tired, old stereotypes,” says Archismita. She cites as an instance a letter she received from a lady who had considered herself an ‘anti-feminist’: “I took a look through some of your posts and photos and read many comments. I really feel like my eyes have been Is it Activism? opened to the idea that I might actually myself This leads us to question, then, what exactly be a feminist! Maybe closeted, but a feminist activism is these days. Does clicking ‘Like’ on a nonetheless. I mean I don't feel like any less of a 32

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page make the person an activist, or is the person a ‘slacktivist,’ feeling comfortable thinking they have ‘taken part’ in campaigning for a cause? “I certainly think that it is quite possible that many people are simply being ‘slacktivists’” says Archismita, although she adds that if someone reads something linked and thinks about it and ‘likes’ it, she doesn’t really see a problem – “not everyone has the time/inclination to do what we do.” For her, Being Feminist was itself the result of her ‘discovering’ feminism on Facebook through the discussions and ‘Likes’ on the page ‘A Girl’s Guide to Taking Over the World’ – therefore, she says, “I definitely think it is and has a huge potential of bringing genuine interest to the fore.”

needs a multi-pronged approach. Technological advances have enabled easy documentation of human rights violations, government negligence, or police violence, which can be very quickly shared to a vast online community – where it’s hard to stop it from spreading. “Bascially, Twitter accelerates the energy promulgated by social activism; bloggers think, analyse and interpret the news in a deeper way than mainstream media; the Facebook-ers build strong social networks based on personal credibility. It all comes together in what’s been called ‘crowdsourcing’, where the minds of many people work together in a virtual environment to come up with ideas bigger than what individuals can generate. This is where social media derives its power.”

Kamayani certainly agrees that online activism cannot be dismissed as having no impact. “What happened in Tunisia and Egypt, is an example of where online activism came on streets, so let us not wash away the impact of online activism…” she says. Not one to be swayed by labels such as ‘slacktivists,’ she says that things such as signing petitions online should be looked at not in isolation but together with the other strategies being used to raise awareness, for every campaign

While online activism isn’t the be-all-and-end-all solution – it is certainly not foolproof – the sheer reach potential that the internet and social media have is unmatched. This reach, combined with the platform provided by social media to critically engage with and discuss the issues at hand, makes it a very powerful medium to espouse a cause.

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

The Lounge

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Storyboard| Film Freak

Get Carter: The DVD is Worth It! by Yayaati Joshi

Yayaati Joshi tells us of a British revenge story that could be considered a trend-setter for many crime stories to follow. Get Carter by Mike Hodge and starring Michael Caine, is absolutely worth your movie dollars, says Joshi.

On the face of it, Mike Hodge’s film Get Carter is a film about revenge. But scratch the surface, and you will see more: style, passion, grit, and wonderfully shot scenes which make even violence appear gleeful. The film’s premise is this: a gangster wouldn’t stop unless he finds out how and why his brother was killed. Leave that to the skilled Michael Caine, last seen in The Dark Knight Rises, and he will bring out a character more passionate than Bond, more determined than Bourne, and angrier than the father in Taken. Caine must dodge a few people in his quest to find out the truth, and kill a few others to seek retribution. This might make him look like a man on a mission, but Caine ensures that he has his fun alongside. The Brits like their men in a certain way—with passion, even when they are

tackling difficult situations. In a very Bond-like manner (just minus his suave talking), Caine, or Carter, as he is known in the film, is disturbed by his boss’s henchmen while making love to a small hotel’s owner. He is startled, but not perturbed. Slowly, he picks up his gun, and walks the henchman out of the room, into the street, while being completely undressed himself. If guns were meant to be phallic symbols, then Caine brings the gun to life with his full monty walk. At some point in the film, Carter seems to be less concerned about the revenge, and more about him having it his way. His moments of passion are plenty, and in one beautifully-shot scene in which love-making has been juxtaposed with movements of a running vehicle, Carter seems to enjoy these diversions more than the

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

actual, self-allotted task. Convenient it might be to write him off as a reckless reprobate, or an overweening man with a gun, but one has to take into account that Carter’s mission is a lost cause. An eye for an eye does leave the whole world blind, and perhaps Carter is compensating himself for his moments of imminent blindness by enjoying everything that comes his way. Thus, his most intriguing feature is also a crippling handicap since Carter never rises above the common adultery of a philanderer, and makes us wonder if the turn of events would have been different had he not worn his genitals on his sleeve. But amidst all this, Hodge’s leitmotif of revenge and escape (Carter’s plan is to escape to South America eventually), is never undermined. With each passing second, the protagonist moves closer to his objective. He can’t bring his brother back to life; but he can definitely send the perpetrators to their graves. All this, with the inscrutable composure of Caine’s face, and matter-of-fact ease in dealing with informers, forms a fine movie, one that is considered by many to be the

best (British) crime film, one that formed the base for many other crime films to follow (Guy Ritchie is said to be inspired by the film). The other self-serving result of this film is that despite being neither heroic, nor lovable, Carter is deemed to be both, and in his final moments, one feels for him as he chases his brother’s killer. Puffing and panting, he makes the killer drink a bottle of whiskey—revenge exacted in a symbolic manner, as Carter’s brother was reportedly forced to consume alcohol in order to disguise his death as a suicide/accident. A lot more than just a crime film, to place it on the shelf next to Scarface would be wrong. For one thing, Get Carter’s enjoyable slowness is no match to the fast-paced story of the immigrant upstart. For another, the coda of both the films is different—Scarface tries to teach a moral lesson, by showing its protagonist’s downfall, Get Carter retains the mystery around Carter, and somewhat like his brother, even Carter dies a damp death, and doesn’t get everyone’s sympathy.

Yayaati Joshi is a man with simple tastes and intense beliefs. Contrary to the bling associated with the capital city, he prefers the company of close friends, an engaging book or an Alfred Hitchcock movie. His placid demeanour is often mistaken for reticence; Yayaati is a self-proclaimed loner, whose recent pursuits include his foray as a budding writer. Yayaati blogs at http://rantingsofadelusionalmind.wordpress.com.

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

Turn of the Page

Vladimir Nabokov’s Pale Fire by Ankit Srivastava

Vladimir Nabokov may be known for Lolita, but Ankit Srivastava believes the writer’s Pale Fire is a better piece: a rare masterpiece that satiates the literary palate and also greases the intellectual gears.

Vladimir Nabokov was an immensely gifted writer from Russia who wrote both in his native language and his adopted language, English. He was a professor of English at Cornell, a serious chess player and a well-regarded lepidopterist. His contributions to literature are numerous, including such works as Ada, Speak Memory and his famous translation of Alexander Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin, but the one work that he is most famous for is his novel Lolita. Despite the novel’s infamous subject-matter, which continues to attract severe controversy and censure, it is worthwhile to understand that Lolita is a work of a singular literary genius. It cemented Nabokov’s position as the foremost English writer and inspired such names as John Updike, Salman Rushdie and Thomas Pynchon. But for all the greatness that Lolita is, I personally think that Nabokov produced an even better and

more perfect work. Perhaps this work is not as linguistically stunning as his famous masterpiece but what it lacks in lexical dexterity, it more than makes up in its innovative structure. Pale Fire was published in 1962 and remains an exceedingly difficult work to summarize in a few sentences. The novel is about two fictional characters, Charles Kinbote and John Shade, and is presented in the form of an annotated poem. The novel is divided into three parts, of which the central part is the poem which John Shade is supposed to have written. This poem is supposed to have been published after John Shade’s death with additional commentary by Charles Kinbote. The first part is an introduction to the poem and the last part contains elaborate notes on the poem. These two parts are supposed to have been written by Charles Kinbote. Since all of these are actually written by Nabokov, Pale

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Fire is the perfect example of metafiction – a When one combines these elements one realises work of fiction within a work of fiction. what a rare masterpiece this is: a novel that satiates the literary palate and also greases the intelThe complexity of the novel is deeper than just lectual gears. It is obvious that this book is not a the form – it pervades its entire structure. John light read but it is a work of art which comes as Shade’s poem is about his own struggles in life – close to the idea of a great chess puzzle as any the suicide of his daughter, his own struggles have. And it provides the same sense of exhilawith the concepts of after-life and spirituality. ration and the same satisfaction that one gets by Charles Kinbote’s commentary on John Shade’s solving a mate in five! poem, however, is that of an unreliable narrator. He wants to tell the reader the story of a fantas- The novel is also a nutshell introduction to what tic kingdom, Zembla, to which he belongs. He Nabokov was capable of as a writer. The poem, believes that the story of Zembla is one worth which forms the central part of the book, is no narrating but that he himself does not have the poetic slouch. If the poem had been published literary tools to do justice to a story of such just on its own, I would still have regarded it as magnificence. In the fictional world of Pale Fire, a highly pleasurable work. It begins with these Charles Kinbote meets the famous poet John beautiful lines: Shade and is convinced that John is the perfect I was the shadow of a waxwing slain, person to tell the story of Zembla. He tries to persuade John to produce such a work and John By the false azure of the window pane, finally does produce a poem which forms the I was the smudge of ashen fluff – and I, central part of the novel. To an objective reader, the poem has nothing at all to do with the king- Lived on flew on in reflected sky. dom of Zembla. Charles Kinbote, however, And this idea of mirage is central to the novel. doesn’t think so. Through his introduction and Pale Fire questions its own veracity and almost his notes to John Shade’s poem, he tries to con- seems bent upon obliterating its own reason to vince us that the poem is not about John’s rumi- exist. It pulls back, however, just before the nations on his own life but is, in fact, the story breaking point and hovers there, trembling, that he, Charles, wants to tell. And thus emanate shivering, and roaming in the wild, dark, nofrom the murky depths of the brilliant novel, man’s land between sanity and insanity. It is a three different stories: the story of John Shade’s novel which, in my opinion, stands unmatched own life, Charles Kinbote’s fascinating tale of in creativity, innovation and the mastery of Zembla and the story of how Charles met John. form. Since Pale Fire is being told from the point of view of a narrator whose sanity appears suspect Ankit Srivastava is a researcher working at UCSD. He cogitates, deliberates and ruminates at best, the first and last parts have to be taken and inundates the poor pages at http:// with a pinch of salt. This includes not only the ankitsrivastava.net/chintan with the vague story of Zembla but also the relationship that murky juices of his contemplations. John and Charles are said to have developed. 38

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The Inner Journey What Do We Strive For? by Viswanathan Subramanian In his column on spirituality, Viswanathan Subramanian has thus far discussed ego and how memory or thoughts are the root cause of all troubles in the world, particularly human relationships. He has also raised several crucial questions such as ‘Are you the world?’ and ‘Does the world really exist?’ discussing them in the context of Ulladhu Narpadhu (Forty Verses of Reality) by Bhagawan Sri Ramana Maharishi. Continuing with the series, the next question is ‘What should we strive for’?

Ulladu Narpathu by Bhagawan Sri Ramana Maharishi is the pointer to the primary act expected of us. That is to KNOW YOURSELF. Every motive for action springs after the ego ‘I’ has risen. The spurious ‘I’ is recognized but one loses sight of the ever-lasting source from which it has arisen. That is why there is the prescription of hunting for the ‘I’. We start thinking and questioning only after ‘I’ as an independent entity has come into being. This ‘I’ sees the world of pluralities and further questions arise. When the ego has already come in, dynamic intellectual search has begun. The mind which started it all and the world it sees are present at this moment and not at another moment, when one is in deep

sleep. It is within the ambit of experience that the underlying reality exists – oneness of consciousness from where ‘I’ and then ‘World’ sprout. But the paradox is no one can question his own existence! Can anybody disown himself? Suppose you say, “I do not exist”, who is the ‘I’ that says it? Hence there is only consciousness of which we are, the wholesome. Is there, then, a way/method to recognizing that we are the Reality – Self – the Consciousness? Any method implies duality, an entity who understands. This is what the intellect does, preserving the ego intact. But to be one with our Reality, the very intellect has to be dropped! Hence, any methodical approach takes you back

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to the mind and its network of thoughts. Therefore, Reality is pathless, it is experiential, where experiencer is not! When talking about self-attention (if we could call it so), Michael James is emphatic on the following: Whenever any doubts, queries or new ideas arise, reflect on whether they could arise in your sleep. Obviously, they could not, as queries and doubts are external to you. (Ref: Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai- Wordby-word in English by Sri Sadhu Om and Michael James) Now arises the million dollar question: Does all this mean I sit idle and vegetate?

there is realization of the illusoriness of ego. So, what about the material world (which itself is not real)? Your initiative is to know your Reality. You are the wholesome timeless Reality. When we are so, action will go on automatically without volition and perfectly sans any conflict in oneself (as there is no oneself). Hence Reality is neither subjective nor objective. As Michael James ponts out, objects have the same degree of reality as the subject but both subject as well as object are unreal . So, doubt whether you exist as doer.

No, the awareness we focus is experiential and such awareness does not make a choice, when

Viswanathan Subramanian was a banker for over 35 years. In his new retired life, he loves poring over business newspapers and journals and making notes. Spirituality also interests him, and so a good number of Sri Ramana Maharishi’s and Jiddu Krishnamurthy’s books find space in his bookshelf. He is extremely passionate about movies and music too. You are sure to find some good old English movie DVDs and an enormous collection of old mp3 Hindi and Tamil songs at his place!

Spark—November 2012 | Life Online

Slice of Life by Deepashri Barve

A Summer Afternoon Deepashri Barve fondly recollects the summer afternoons of her childhood which meant she played games of kings and superheroes with her older brother. Little did she know back then that the games and the little fights would bring back fond memories later.

It was a hot, summer afternoon. I remember the shades were drawn and the fan was at full speed trying to cool the room down, but all it did was to blow more hot air. I hated those kinds of summer afternoons, because it meant mom wouldn't let us go to the park or to meet our friends.

brave and noble Hindu king leading his army to capture the evil king aka his little sister. "C'mon, run, I am coming for you," he called, stepping out of character, just before he kicked his horse. "Why can't I be the good Hindu queen?" I protested.

"Let it cool down a bit,” she would say, "find "Because I am already the “good king”. Every something to do at home until then." story needs good and evil. Now, run," he retortIt also meant that I would be stuck playing the ed quickly. same game again with my older brother. He was nine at that time, and was convinced that only a We ran around the living room a couple of game with kings and superheroes was worth times until his horse caught up with mine.

playing. That particular summer afternoon was “Why do you always get to win the war?” I prono exception. My brother tied a beach towel tested again. around his neck and threw his cape in the air as he mounted his imaginary horse. He was the “Because I am the good king, and you are the evil one. Don’t you know any history at all?” 41

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Leave aside history, all I knew was big brothers We were running all over the house now, caregot to make all the rules, and little sisters had to fully dodging mom’s beautiful vases and hurbe evil kings. riedly tiptoeing past grandma’s room. Amidst all the war cries, my brother raised his “sword” to Now that he had won, my brother walked capture the British officer, when the ripe cuaround the living room, waving to an imaginary cumber broke into two and crowd, which had gathplopped on his head, with ered there to watch his the cool green juice dripping victory parade. I must all over his forehead. I say, as mad as I was, the looked at him, not sure if it victory parade always was okay to laugh, trying made me giggle. hard to control my hysteria. “Do you want to get He stood there quietly cleansome lemonade before ing the juice with his cape, we go for round two?” . before both of us broke into peals of uncontrollable “Aaargh…. I don’t want laughter. There was mushy cucumber on the round two,” I groaned. “I don’t want to be the floor, and pearly seeds on his face. Amidst the evil king anymore.” mess, we called a truce and finally finished the “But you won’t be…remember, in round two, game. you are a British officer. I will be the Indian farmer who leads the revolution. C’mon, drink As it began to cool down, everyone began to trickle out of their houses, with children gatherup, you need lots of energy for the fight.” ing in the alley for a round of soccer or a game So the fight began, pillows flew all over the liv- of cricket. I got ready to go to the park with ing room, followed by toys. Then came books, mom. I was glad the afternoon was over, rewhich were deadly grenades filling up the air lieved that I didn’t have to play another one of with thick smoke. I remember sneaking in a those annoying games. Little did I know, those smile and suppressing a laugh before I went times spent with my brother complaining about back to complaining about being the “bad guy” all of his made up games, would make up some in every version of the game. Ignoring my proof the best memories I have about him. Thank tests, my brother gestured to me to hide behind heavens, for hot summer afternoons! Without the sofa. I was determined not to let him win them, childhood, today I realize, would have this “war”. We tried to get our hands on any- been so bland. thing to use as ammunition for our “war”. I grabbed a tennis ball, and pretended to bomb his platoon. My brother got a long cucumber from the kitchen and swerved it like a sword, rallying his troops for the final round. 42

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Deepashri Barve is a recruiter by day and a writer by night (she hopes to be able to switch that around, someday). Writing is a means of communication for her and a way to share experiences and connect with others. She is currently working on her blog http://loveworklive.wordpress.com which explores the connection between business and personal relationships.

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Virtual Life

Photography by Anupama Krishnakumar 44

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