Desicritics Author: Deepti Lamba

My Clandestine Reading and Other Literary Habits

Deepti Lamba — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 10:14:36 EST

"Dee, shit! you've got me into massive trouble!"

"Bhav, sorry yaar, ma decided to clean my cupboard. She never touches my stuff usually."

I still remember the hoopla caused in my house over a Mills & Boon. The book was called Counterfeit Bride.

I still have the book.

Ma had discovered the book wedged between my jumbled up clothes. I was eleven at the time and the book had been given to me by my best friend. Bhav had got it free with some shampoo.

She didn't like to read; I did and so the book was given to me.

Ma confiscated the book. I continued to have counterfeit reading habits; Classics in front of ma and romantic novels in the loo. My reading habits remained clandestine till I turned 15 and one day I gathered courage and told Ma point blank "Everyone reads them at school"

She gave me a disapproving frown and gave a reluctant nod.

I promptly asked for my confiscated book.

"You remembered it after all these years?" She was surprised.

"I remember all my books, ma. And its called Counterfeit Bride. Want to know the storyline? I remember that too." I replied cheekily, flipped through the book and walked off to my room.

Whatever be Ma's reasons for not letting me read romance novels I outgrew them by the end of college years. Some of my 'intellectual khadi' wearing friends found romance novels to be beneath their feminist dignity.

One of them had raised an eyebrow and remarked "You till read Mills & Boon? How quaint!"

What was quaint about it I could never understand but I did respond with that it was a 'time pass' habit. More like a mental chewing gum to deaden the mind.

Why did I defend my reading tastes back then?

Of course now I have more 'adult' tastes. I stopped reading romantic novels back when I was in my twenties. Reading sex never interested me. It was all the same kind of shit- bells ringing, blood surging, penetration, gasping, trembling and all very unbelievable.

Even the virgin in me recognized the shit that was printed pages after pages. I knew I could write better sex scenes even without much practice and post marriage I did.

I wrote erotica and unfortunately I found myself suffering a similar predicament for writing sex instead of reading it.

The reactions were the same except instead of 'do you have to read it'? the words were- do you have to write it? Can you not write something more productive, more intellectual type? Can you not write something that will not embarrass us?

I tried my best to explain- They are just words. Reading or writing them doesn't make me an immoral person.

"Rape scenes? How could you?"

"It was fan fiction and the criminals did suffer for their actions."

"I didn't finish it. It was too gruesome."

I sighed

"The criminals did suffer-"

"I don't want to know. You have to stop writing such drivel."

"I have written more stuff-"

"No! this must stop immediately!"

I gently banged my head against the wall as the long distance call came to end. I was a kid again facing ultimatums.

Weaving stories had become an addiction for me. I could write other stuff; well, I was writing other stuff - book reviews, memories from past, movie reviews blah blah blah but I was also playing naughty on my site and got rapped on my knuckles for it.

There was no more clandestine writing for a while. In fact after all the exasperation and my prema donna reactions I came to realize my fight for freedom of speech in the jack off section was not all that worthwhile.

I could still write erotica but more along the lines of Mills & Boon; boy meets girl, boy has soft porn sex with girl, they fight, they make up and live happily ever after- Yuck! I flipped through the tattered pages of Counterfeit Bride and bid that part of my life a quiet adieu, at least not under my real name;)

Is Dieting Required? Ask Oprah

Deepti Lamba — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 13:18:59 EST

"I want to be thin. I want to lose weight fast. Put me on a diet."

My dietitian frowned at me and replied "No diet. Eat fruits, vegetables, salads. Lots of water, no sugar, no bakery stuff and you will naturally lose if you exercise regularly."

I was exasperated "But its gradual."

She smiled "That's good. You want to glow not look like a starved mannequin. No diet. Don't your clothes fit you better? Haven't you already lost 5 kilos with exercise and regular eating habits? Diets don't last. You will fall off the wagon, feel disappointed and one day you will stop exercising as well. This has to be a life long habit not a hardship."

I returned to my crunches chastened but unconvinced until I read an article about Oprah falling of the bandwagon:

"I'm mad at myself," Winfrey writes in the article. "I'm embarrassed. I can't believe that after all these years, all the things I know how to do, I'm still talking about my weight. I look at my thinner self and think, 'How did I let this happen again?' "

Oprah's mea culpa comes at a time when a growing number of books, including "Rethinking Thin" by journalist Gina Kolata, argue that diet-induced weight loss is extremely difficult to sustain long-term.

Oprah also confessed that she starved herself on a liquid protein diet back in 2005 to get in shape.

In the end she seems to have come to the grand realization that being thin is not the end goal but to be fit and healthy. Given her thyroid problem its good she realized that size zero may be possible but would make life miserable for her.

At my gym there is a thin girl who works out infrequently. She wants to take part in the Miss India contest. She is about 5 feet 7 inches, she is all teeth and has a rake of a figure. She is less than size zero if that's possible.

She wanted to know if she was imperfect in any way and whether she needed to go on a rigorous diet. My instructor laughed and said she needed food not lack of it.

I looked at her reflection and then mine in the mirror and tried my best not to laugh. The realization that I could never be a size zero didn't seem all that bad all of a sudden. That kind of thinking requires a 'foodless existence.' and a certain kind of zeal that I lack.

I realized I could never be 'thin' and it was alright. I will always be a curvy babe in love with food and life. Right food, healthy self esteem and regular exercise is something I can see myself incorporating as a lifelong habit.

Skinny jeans will never be mine and I can live with that.

The Dividing Roots Of Religions

Deepti Lamba — Mon, 8 Dec 2008 10:19:07 EST

She came over to ask for Neem leaves. We started talking about the death of my Neem tree due to the Jamun tree pushing at it. We talked about gardening, snakes crawling into our homes, children and somewhere in between we got talking about religion.

It wasn't a topic I wanted to talk about. It makes me impatient. She told me she was a Muslim and asked about my religion. I replied- Buddhist. She smiled, nodded and said that I was a Hindu.

I didn't get into the semantics and merely shrugged. She became more chatty and continued talking about her Hindu friends and I stared at the bamboo rhizomes that were growing under my cracked cemented walk path.

I wasn't interested in hearing about her secular inclinations, I wasn't interested in her exchange of gifts on Hindu Muslim festivals nor was I interested in hearing about her getting bored to tears in Gulf, her hating the burkha nor was I was interested in her horrified reactions against the Mumbai tragedy.

She was barking up the wrong tree. I was already on her side. I had already faced half her shit post 9/11 in America when people who recognized that I wasn't a Hispanic or 'Native American' decided I was a Muslim.

I had to wear my religion on my chest as if to ward off others 'righteous' anger. I told them at the airport security checks - "No, that lady in burkha isn't my mother in law. I am a Hindu. Are you done checking my six month old? Yes, I know its for safety that you have special checks. But why is it that whenever we travel we always get the special security checks?"

Things did get relatively easier a couple of years down. But there was always that fear in the back of our minds when we traveled. We didn't discuss politics when we stepped out, our phone calls were also censored and we maintained a polite front even when a jackass passed a racist comment or snubbed us in a queue.

We had friends who treated us no different whether they were Republicans or Democrats but fear had nestled deep within my heart. And the sense of insecurity plagued me constantly. We tried to keep a low profile. The attitude that if we kept our heads down and didn't stand out like sore thumbs things would be fine was ingrained in us.

By the end of our five year stint I was eager to return home. Between the yellow, orange, red alerts my poor heart had done enough palpitations wondering what shit would be dished out to us if terrorists did some shit on US soil.

I was ready to return home and feel like a majority upper class Hindu all over again.

After nearly three years of returning home I found myself trying to make a defensive Muslim lady comfortable in my garden. I didn't talk about the apprehensions I suffered while in US being similar to her feelings. There was one big difference between her and me.

To me, my country was a haven I willingly returned to but for her there was no sense of security in her own homeland; not that she said it to me but her loud proclamations of being a moderate secular Muslim made it clear to me.

She took some curry leaves and lemons, grumbled about the death of the Neem tree and politely declined my offer of tea.

I closed the gate behind her and wished we didn't talk about religion and politics. It made both of us pussyfoot around each other and maybe it kept us from becoming good friends.

Reacting to Terror - Time We Looked Inwards

Deepti Lamba — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 01:59:07 EST

We are quick to blame the government but as a society, have we taken stock of our country? We are quick to blame any one and everyone but ourselves. What have we as a society done to save our children from the maundering stray dogs? There is always someone to take the cause up to deter clean up - call them animal lovers or bleeding liberal hearts who are unwilling to take the initiative up themselves to sterile the rabid mutts but first to protect menace that in other countries is put down as a logical practice.

They don't care how many children die deaths even worse than suffered by criminals themselves till the time their mangy mutts get to live as kings of the streets.

Are they not much like our politicians then? I don't need to get into the political semantics, mud slinging battles that they are forever indulging in. They merely want to forward and protect their causes, protect their vote banks. And we the public, the impotent eunuchs watch on and lead our lives till one of their very causes bites us bad on our individual asses.

Until we lose our own in tragedies that are throwbacks to medieval times, we don't really realize the apathetic malaise our society is suffering from.

If, as a country, we have been unable to provide basic amenities to the citizens, how can we expect our governments to handle something as evil and complex as terrorism?

We are like the frogs living in a pot of boiling water, puddling along in the sham of security provided by daily living and are slowly but surely losing our sense of humanity. We tend to forget older scandals - the jeep scandal, the lack of socks for our soldiers in the Chinese war, the trading of militants for the daughter of a politician.

We have only ourselves to blame for what happened. Its time not to forget this tragedy for it will only get worse. We need to galvanize public opinion and demand accounting - We need to go on a witch hunt against the decrepit machinery of our government, against those who provide us shitty infrastructure, against those who purely protect their money taps, against those who do not provide the latest weapons to our law enforcement agencies, against those who litter our country, those who divide our us in the name of religion, caste and creed.

We need to be more upfront, more passionate and more zealous in our own cause. Our cause is to clean up our country . Our cause is to provide a safe nation to our children.

It is time to look inwards and ask how I have let my country down? How can I make my community, my country a better place to live in?

It is time for every Indian to rise up and say - I will take this shit no more!

When Is It The Right Time To Die?

Deepti Lamba — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 11:51:19 EST

An acquaintance of the family died at the age of 70 a few years back and my uncle said over the phone - So sad. He went young.

Young?!

I blinked and bit my tongue.

My uncle was three years shy of turning 70 himself. For him the death was early but for me the departed was closer to Santa Claus's age group.

On my recent post two commentators also talked about their grandparents leading active lives well into their eighties but I cannot comprehend vying with a Banyan tree. Good for them but I want to pop it when I am in my mid sixties.

Come to think of it my ma just turned sixty this year and she is a very active lady. And the only one in the family who still drives on her own to work while all others have drivers. I don't want my ma to go nor my uncle to leave us but if I was given a choice I'd like to depart at 70.

There, I increased my lifespan by another five years. After all, if I get to be a rich lady with my health and teeth intact a saggy butt and few wrinkles wouldn't hold me back.

Yet the idea of being a dotty old person doesn't particularly fill me with joy either. Frankly, those who turn that old also aren't quite happy about their bodies wearing out.

They are still young people trapped in old bodies. While reading Jane Juska's book - A Round Heeled Woman where she shared old aged dating scene (or in less polite terms- her sex escapades amongst other things ) I realized that even till one's dying breath one can remain young.

Jane Juska, in my mind, became an epitome of old age. She broke away from the norms set for old people by society. She decided she wasn't going to die a lonely old woman. Obviously, she went through heartbreak (when it comes to love who doesn't?) but she forged ahead through the senior years with optimism, she saw different parts of America, fell in love with New York and most of all found strength within herself to stand by her conviction.

Self-evolution for Juska didn't come with age but through the experiences she went through. She bumbled, lost her dignity and then found herself again.

Jane Juska despite her advanced age became young in my mind. Someone I could identify with.

Frankly putting old people on pedestal is an old Indian tradition that should be done away with. Many of my friends are way older than me and it isn't as if we have to search for subjects to talk about.

Conversation flows naturally. Its the meeting of the hearts that is important and that's exactly what Jane and her young lover realized.

But sadly in India we venerate the old and sometimes this veneration leads to isolation and loneliness. They become gods with clay feet, breathing in some corner of the house, absentmindedly revered and conveniently forgotten.

Some grow to be wise, generous old souls with gentle hearts and some merely sugar coat their meanness with great expertise.

We continue to be ourselves despite the advancing years. Its like the maturing of the wine. Only the good grapes make great wine centuries past. So why venerate the passing years that not all individuals use to become wise hermits the young could turn to?

I wouldn't mind living on well into my seventies if I get to have the iron will of Jane Juska; to have that inquisitive, courageous heart and continue to believe that love can still be found no matter how old or young.

Maybe this is why my uncle seemed shocked on hearing of the acquaintance's death. Maybe he felt that old gentleman could still have achieved much more in his life. Maybe my uncle still feels there are new experiences awaiting him.

I can only speculate like I did when I was ten and wondered what I would be like when I get to be in my thirties. Now I speculate what I will be in my twilight years.

But one thing is for sure if health betrays me during my advancing years I would happily want to kick the bucket.

Fitness, A Way Of Life

Deepti Lamba — Tue, 18 Nov 2008 00:21:48 EST

"Two minutes, please? I cannot take it anymore!"

Six days a week I sound like a petulant child when I visit the gym. The trainer gives a patient smile and replies "Ma'am, two more minutes."

My two minutes are about taking a breather from the rigorous machine and his two minutes are to egg me on. I sweat, cuss, swelter and look my worst. The mirrors show me people of all sizes - some like me, some bigger than me and some so fit that I want to make cardboard cuts of them and peg them to my bedroom door to remind myself that this is what I want to be like.

But would I have the same body structure like them? Probably not. Most of the bodies I admire belong to men. The admiration isn't lecherous (rolling my eyes) but its about the seemingly unending stamina, the perfect abs and most of all the discipline that gives a perfect body.

There is a gentleman about 74 year old who comes to the gym regularly. He runs on the treadmill, works on the elliptical machine and does heavy weights. He calls me 'Ma'am' and I call him 'Sir'. We smile at each other but conversation between us tends to be abrupt since my instructor keeps me more or less breathless and shaking the muscles that ache and demand less workouts.

Initially I used to work out in the evening but past two days I moved to the morning shift. The music at the gym during the mornings is better and the place more crowded.

The addiction is setting in. I am quite possessive about my workout and my diet. No chocolates, no pizzas, no sugar and definitely no potatoes.

Most people at the gym watch their diet. Talking to them makes my resolution firmer and easier to carry forward. Exercising may soon become a way of life for me. Clothes fit better, inches and weight are falling off, my skin has become better and most of all I am in a much better mood.

It took me a while to realize that taking care of myself didn't merely mean having time to feed my brain but also ensure I took care of my body the right way.

BJP MLA Commits Suicide in New Delhi

Deepti Lamba — Sun, 16 Nov 2008 11:14:51 EST

The death of Puranchand Yogi comes as a shock to the residents of Inderpuri. People of the locality, no matter what their political affiliations, always had a good word to put in for the veteran of BJP.

He belonged to the era when politicians were god fearing and truly believed in performing their duty towards their constituents. He would even listen to the problems of the poor residing in the nearby slum colony.

Puran Chand Yogi, a sitting BJP MLA from Rajinder Nagar and the party's candidate from the constituency for the Delhi assembly polls,
allegedly committed suicide at his residence on Sunday.

Yogi was found hanging from the ceiling of his house in Inderpuri in south-west Delhi at around 7.15am by his wife Asha, a senior police officer said.

The old residents of the locality were well acquainted with Puranchand Yogi and considered him to be a level headed person.

The revelation that he committed suicide seems to be contradictory to his nature. People are wondering if there was some sort of foul play and stand by his family in time of grief.

His autopsy report would clear the matter and put the gossip to rest but the community has lost a good friend and his political party lost an honest mentor.

Temporary Mates

Deepti Lamba — Sun, 16 Nov 2008 00:54:23 EST

When kittens get affectionate with their human surrogate mother, it's time to give them away. Zoey's kittens are nearly two months old. They emerged from under my cupboard a week ago and decided the entire house was their playground and I was their second mama.

They followed Zoey's example to become self sufficient. They litter trained themselves, took to food on their own and decided I was a safe mate as well.

I tried my best not to fall in love with them. I knew a day will come when we will bid them adieu and get back to having two cats. But those fluff balls began to hunt me down systematically.

They continue to greet me by pouncing on my feet, meow plaintively or snuggle up against me while I watch television in the living room and recently they have taken up to sleeping on me at night if I doze off in the living room.

Zoey watches their antics with gentle benevolence. Kensei shows fatherly affection and keeps them in line. Its a perfect family that reflects innocence and forwards unconditional love.

The problem is, I make an unwilling member in that feline circle of affection. I am the Judas who will bring turbulence in their tiny lives, push them out of their secure haven and into a world that may not treat them kindly.

Part of me feels apprehensive even for those kittens I know for sure will go to loving homes. Its a motherly anxiety that I am trying to dampen.

One of our friends will be coming over to take one of the kittens. He is quite excited about adopting a fluff ball but i still feel twinges of unfounded concern. I want to make the transition as comfortable as possible for the little one. Give advice and worse of all I want to visit his home once the kitten has settled in to see how the kitten is doing.

Obviously, I will apply restrain over my irrational fears, turn my heart into a stone when Zoey calls out to her given away kittens and put away the home made kitten toys.

I will miss those pesky little brats.

Heidi Klum - Halloween Kali

Deepti Lamba — Fri, 7 Nov 2008 02:05:43 EST

Hindus once again have reasons to get offended by the antics of a blundering Westerner. Heidi Klum dressed up as Kali this Halloween. She didn't look pretty nor did she look magnificently hideous. What she did look was blue and bat shit crazy.

Dramatization of Gods is a common practice in India. When Ramayana is re-enacted the actors dressed as Rama and Lakshmana are often given godly adulation by not only the simple minded folks but also by some of the educated.

Some years ago there was a great uproar when Tina Turner was going to act as Kali in a Merchant Ivory movie. Due to the protests the movie was never made and we never got to see sensuous Tina as Kali.

At the time Tina Turner said that she had utmost respect for India and for Hinduism and she wanted to visit the country.

But all that fell to deaf ears. The lady known for her mini skirts and fake wigs would have defamed the fabled goddess. The Hindu mind could not get beyond the 'whats love got to do with it' persona to the real woman who probably would have done justice to enacting one of the most powerful goddess of Indian mythology.

That was then and this is now. Heidi Klum mocking the goddess.

I am tickled pink and waiting for the saffron clouds to gather around her horizon.

Heidi, let me be one of the soon to be many to ask for an apology for your insenstive impersonation of our beloved goddess.

Yay For Blacks, Nay For Gays

Deepti Lamba — Wed, 5 Nov 2008 03:27:02 EST

Whether this is a turning point in American History is a matter of perspective. For African Americans and for the Democrats, the election of a Black President is momentous but for the gay community of America it is still a long drawn battle.

Apart from voting for the election of President of America, voting on Proposition 8 in California also took place on Tuesday.

Early poll results Tuesday night showed California voters leaning toward overturning same-sex marriage in the state in a decision that could impact how the issue plays out elsewhere in the nation.

The current results on Proposition 8 indicate a 52.5% to 47.5% in favor of the ban with close to 50% of votes having been tallied.

With the majority of Californians leaning towards banning of gay marriages, it again brings to mind age old questions whether it is right to let the masses decide about the laws of the land.

There was a time when majority of white Americans did not believe in racial equality.

There was a time when Blacks were lynched in their own country and no one cared, there was a time when Blacks were considered to be lower than dirt.

That time passed, they fought long and hard to see their dream fulfilled on the day when the gay community of California watched their dream crumble.

If there is anything to be learned by Obama's victory is that one should never stop dreaming of equality for all. From slavery to representing the nation the Blacks fulfilled a dream that would have been unfathomable just decades ago.

Today I congratulate my black friends and ask my gay friends not to give up hope. The battle may be lost but the war is far from over.