Mark Twain: The Mysterious Stranger

I am not quite well-versed in American literature. So when the New York Times' Nicholas Kristof published his summer reading list, I figured it was as good of a time as any to read Mark Twain's The Mysterious Stranger. Mark Twain's short story The Mysterious Stranger is not as famous as his other full length novels. But, in spite of its short length the story deals with a very complicated dogmatic issue of Moral Sense. Moral sense is what separates us from other living beings, be it higher primates or angels.

This post-humously published Mark Twain's marvel has several versions. The one I read is set in Austria. The story is about three boys and their encounter with a devious angel called Satan, who is named after his uncle, the notorious Satan himself. This mysterious stranger appears in the village and shows the boys that how little control humans have over their own destiny. The Satan also shows that the Moral Sense does not make Homo sapiens better than the rest of the animals, it in fact makes us more barbaric and evil.

It is like your paltry race--always lying, always claiming virtues which it hasn't got, always denying tot he higher animals, which alone possess them. No brute ever does a cruel that is the monopoly of those with the Moral Sense. When a brute inflicts pain he does it innocently; it is wrong; for him there is no such thing as wrong. And he does not inflict pain for the pleasure of inflicting it -- only man does that. Inspire by the mongrel Moral Sense of his! A sense whose function is to distinguish between right and wrong, with liberty to choose which of them he will do. Now what advantage can he get out of that? He is always choosing and in nine cases out of ten he prefers the wrong. There shouldn't be any wrong and without the Moral Sense there couldn't be any wrong. And yet he is such an unreasoning creature that he is not able to perceive that the Moral Sense degrades him to the bottom layer of animated beings and is a shameful possession."

Satan points out that humans have the power of will and a conscious mind, and yet they knowingly commit barbaric crimes against other human beings. Their bad behavior, unlike that of a horse or any other animal, cannot be blamed on nature, but on their own devious mind. Satan also points out humans' cowardly nature. They listen and follow the beliefs of minorities, because the majority is too scared to stand up and speak their minds. For instance, majority of the world is in favor of Palestine's UN membership, and there are only a few countries like the US and Canada who in spite of being democratic countries are denying Palestine of this diplomatic opportunity of getting its voice heard.

I know your race. It is made up of sheep. It is governed by minorities, seldom or never by majorities. It suppresses its feelings and its beliefs and follows the handful that makes the most noise. Sometimes the noisy handful is right, sometimes wrong; but no matter, the crowd follows it. The vast majority of the race whether savage or civilized are secretly kind-hearted and shrink from inflicting pains, but in the presence of the aggressive and pitiless minority they don't dare to assert themselves.

Humans also have their set views and preconceived notions which create divisions among them. Two humans can be presented with the same evidence and information and yet they will distort the facts to fit their own narrative and personal agenda. For instance, look at the Fox News and CNBC News. They are both American 24 hour cable news channels. They are presented with the same reality everyday but yet their narrative is completely different from each other. Fox promotes their Republican agenda, and NBC ignores real facts in their quest to promote the liberal ideology.

"You can find in a text whatever you bring, if you will stand between it and the mirror of your imagination. You may not see your ears, but they will be there."

Movie Marathon: Easy A

"Easy A" is a romantic comedy starring Emma Stone, which is loosely based on Nathaniel Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter. The novel is about an adulterous woman, Hester Prynne, whose actions are publicly condemned by her Puritan society, and the same man who is an equal partner in her sin. The movie is a smart comedy about a generation that is greatly linked through texting and other social networking websites.

I recently read an article in the NY Times regarding the demise of emailing. Our generation prefers to communicate through texting or instant messaging. I remember when I was a teenager my friends and I preferred to communicate through MSN messaging, or emails. Then Facebook came along, and we started writing on each other's walls. We commented on oodles of pictures that our friends posted. However, things changed a couple of years ago, when people realized that information on social networking sites such as Facebook is not very private, and in fact very public. The shift happened, instead of sharing our pictures with everyone on our friends list we became more discreet. And, instead of writing on each other's walls, we started private messaging each other.

The way we communicate has changed a lot in the last 15 years. My husband and I prefer to either text or "talk" to each other on gtalk. We both have android phones which make keeping in touch and sharing quick updates on gtalk much easier. My major concern about texting is that kids are not using proper grammar and/or spellings. In the world of spell check, abbreviated syntax and 140 characters long sentences, the art of beautiful composition is at abysmal loss.

What "Easy A" shows that no matter what the preferred medium of communication is, gossip travels fast. And it is no picnic to be a teenager! The other interesting theme the movie touches upon is that high school kids do not read the books they are taught in English class. They either rent the film versions of the books, or rely upon SparkNotes. The books on the high school reading list seem dated to the students, but as the movie shows, they are far more relevant than they appear to be. In the past, myriad of classics have been turned into teenage romantic comedies. The list entails, Emma ("Clueless"), Romeo and Juliet ("Romeo + Juliet"), Taming of the Shrew ("10 Things I Hate About You"), Othello ("O"), Twelfth Night ("She's the Man"), and so on.

Emma Stone is wonderful in the movie. If you are looking for a fun and yet not a dumb movie, do check this one out. I will be posting more reviews throughout this week, as I have some time off until the next semester starts. My husband and I have a rather ambitious list of movies we want to finish watching during the holidays.

Disclaimer: For the sake of my husband's street-cred I should mention that I watched this movie without him.

Justin Halpern: Sh*t My Dad Says

I like to eavesdrop on other people's conversations when I go out to eat. My sister shares this secret shame with me. Trust me this is not because we are snoopy, it's just usually we have nothing interesting to say to each other, so we rely on other people to entertain us. Recently, when I was out having dinner, there was a group of friends sitting at a table next to mine. Judging the way they were showing off their phones, it seemed that they had not seen each other for a while, and had recently reconnected thanks to the mighty Facebook. It is amusing that now when long lost friends have reunions they feel the need to whip out their cellphones, and marvel on the little wonders their gizmo can do.

Technology has changed our social behaviour at such an exponential rate that sometimes we need blunt people like Justin Halpern's father to provide an honest social commentary.

Son, no one gives a sh*t about all the things your cell phone does. You didn't invent it, you just bought it. Anybody can do that.

Sh*t My Dad Says is a "LOL-funny" book (memoir) based on Halpern's Twitter account. Halpern started tweeting about the random stuff his father says, which not only got him this book deal, but he also has a sitcom with the same title premiering this fall. This book is another testament of the way technology now allows us to share our ideas with millions. Thanks to blogging and tweeting people have the possibility of getting their work published without having to worry about running after publishers and literary agents.

I really enjoyed reading this hilarious book. So if you are looking for a light read do check it out.

Here is my favourite sh*t Justin Halpern's Dad said:

On Chivalry

Give your mother the front seat...I don't give a sh*t if she said you could have it, that's what she's supposed to do, and you're supposed to say, 'No, I insist.' You think I'm gonna drive around with my wife in the backseat and a nine-year-old in the front? You're a crazy son of a b*tch.

Should You Judge This Book by Its Cover?

"He who hesitates is lost" vs. "Everything comes to he who waits."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder" vs. "Out of sight, out of mind."

"You can't teach an old dog new tricks" vs. "It's never too late to learn."

"The best things in life are free" vs. "There is no such thing as a free lunch."

"Seeing is believing" vs. "Appearances could be deceptive."

"Tomorrow is another day" vs. "Tomorrow never comes."

It's rather funny to notice how the above aphorisms contradict each other. No wonder proverbs are so confusing. In his new book Should You Judge This Book by Its Cover? the author Julian Baggini deconstructs 100 well-known proverbs and phrases we frequently misuse.



The book seems interesting. But, then, not everything that glitters is gold, eh? I am waiting for the Kindle version to be released, so I can read the book on my Kindle. Since I don't want to judge this book by its cover :).

For the Sanctity of the F-Word

Okay, I am confused. The movie tells me that if a guy doesn't call you, doesn't ask you out, makes you wait on him, doesn't want to plan stuff, doesn't want to go out, doesn't want to move in together, doesn't want to have kids...HE IS JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU.

Is it really that simple? So, what if the guy is shy? Or, what if, when you are busy being coy, the guy arrives at the conclusion that you are not interested in him, and the fear of rejection stops him from making the move, you have been waiting for?

I get confused with these dating guidelines. I would find it endearing if people just went for what they wanted. Both girls, and boys. I like to think that I am an upfront person, and if the opportunity presents itself I wouldn't have any qualms about asking the guy out. We are supposed to be beyond sexism. Equal opportunities for all. Do what we please. So why slow down the dating process with these stupid rules? Who benefits from these stupid rules, anyway? The "Self Help" book industry? And, the "feminists" at Cosmo?

Okay, so this is what I have against Cosmopolitan. The periodical's former editor, self-proclaimed feminist, skeletal Helen Gurley Brown, once said that girls should have border-line anorexia nervosa to maintain an "ideal" body weight. Cosmo, the 80 year old magazine, instead of writing about women in politics, or positive female role models, primarily focuses on "How to Please Your Man", "What Men Like", "Where to Find Eligible Bachelors", and other male-centric topics. Okay, I realize nobody wants to read about the brutalities women are faced with in Darfur and Congo. But, why they are turning their readers into predatory men-hunting sex slaves is beyond me.

Then there are the other delusional feminists, the "Sex and the City" clowns. They believe, men are like shoes, wear them and then dispose them off. These women use feminism to liberate themselves from any moral and/or social obligations. Look, I love pretty outfits as much as the next girl, but since when did it become okay to spend our entire paycheck on our wardrobe? And, now, they are coming up with another "Sex and the City" movie. Hey, at least these women are helping the economy, Paul Krugman style.

And, I don't get the Oprah cult either. Oprah started bugging me back when she plastered her stamp of approval on James Frey's dubious A Million Little Pieces. Later, when it was discovered that Frey exaggerated the truth, and his book was more fictional and less of a druggie hero's triumphal memoir, she called him on her show to yell at him. Dude, Oprah, didn't you have a moral responsibility to check the book's credentials before you endorsed it? And, what is with the "O" logo mugs, which are sold for 12 bucks each? And, if we are supposed to love ourselves first, and be comfortable with our body, embrace all body shapes and forms; then why is Oprah so critical of her own weight gain? Look, I respect the woman's rags to riches story, but I don't respect her bogus commercialism tactics.

By the way, to the future object of my affection, if I am ignoring you, please don't think I am not just that into you. Take my bizarre behaviour as a cue to ask me out :). And, don't ever quote The Secret to me! Don't ever tell me that some bizarre law of attraction brought us together! And, if you dig a girl who avidly reads Cosmo and its clones, remember this sort of "feminism" can backfire too:

Today, my girlfriend broke up with me because she found out that she wasn't really in love with me. She got that advice from an internet survey. FML

EDIT (2:44 PM): I just read it in the news that Oprah apologized to James Frey for shaming him on her show. Looks like blogging does have some journalistic relevance after all.

Nikolai Gogol: The Overcoat

In an Apatow world, socially stunted, slobby, scruffy men somehow manage to have attractive blond girlfriends. These men do not really have to work on their social skills, and Mary Jane problem to find love. It is no wonder these Apatow movies turn out to be blockbuster hits, eh?



But, in the real world we get surprised when "less attractive" individuals actually amount to something. For instance, look at the recent, okay not so recent, YouTube sensation, British Susan Boyle. When she first stepped on the stage, the audience and the judges were ready to write her off, but out came that powerful voice, and she had everyone mesmerized. Had she been a Barbie look-alike, people on this side of the pond, probably, would have never heard of her.

Nikolai Gogol's stories are about such "less attractive" social outcasts. He wrote about social nobodies who work in the corrupt government offices. Gogol had hoped to achieve literary success when he moved to St. Petersburg from Ukraine. But, he had trouble finding his footing in the corrupt imperial capital.

"The Overcoat" centers around Akaky Akakievich, who is a government clerk. Akaky Akakievich not only has an unfortunate name, but is also poor, lonely, and unattractive. He spends his day copying government documents, and getting teased by his co-workers. When his old worn-out overcoat reaches the condition where it's beyond repair, Akaky decides to buy a pristine new overcoat, which he cannot afford. He decides to save up, by skipping dinner, and going without the basic utilities. His sole purpose of existence, which was previously about his menial job, now becomes about buying the new overcoat.

Gogol's stories are about people whose lives are marked by anonymity and oblivion. These individuals find themselves lost in a society, where they are judged on their physical appearances, funny names, and inferior social ranks.

I believe, the reason reality shows like "American Idol", or "Britain's Got Talent" are popular, because they give individuals, like Taylor Hicks, Paul Potts, and Susan Boyle, a chance to do something outside of their social realms. In most cases, the contestants are not restricted by their physical appearance, and/or socio-economic status.

Survival of the Fittest

Often times when I think of contemporary Pakistan, I wonder what my life would be like, if I lived there. I think about the rich Pakistanis, in their fancy air-conditioned cars. I think about rich people driving hummers, in the narrow crowded streets of Karachi, Pakistan's largest city. I think about the small percentage of Pakistanis who are rich, speak fluent and proper British English in their Anglicized-Indian accents. I think about the rich Pakistanis with better health care plans than the average American.

Then these words of Charles Dickens' come to mind.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

I believe, the above passage effectively describes the contradictions one finds in Pakistan. Pakistan is full of surprises, inconsistencies, and cultural shocks. The only way to survive a trip is to shut off your brain, and leave it at home. My parents are from Pakistan, and after spending every single high school summer in Pakistan, I still cannot fully understand this country of pretences. I cannot seem to find my place in their society.

Last week, The New York Times did a cover piece about Pakistan. The article was centered around Pakistan's bleak future, under Asif Ali Zardari's presidency. The cover story had a picture of Asif Ali Zardari sitting in front of a big portrait of the country's founder, Muhammad Ali Jinnah. On the table to his right, there rests a closeup framed photo of his late wife, Benazir Bhutto. On the table to his left, there is a framed photo of Ms. Bhutto taken at a political rally. In front of the said picture there is a Kleenex box, depicting Zardari's sensitivity. If anyone out there knows how to send out a pictorial message of patriotism, spousal devotion, and sensitivity, it is definitely the people who orchestrated this photo shoot.

Pakistan is a country where the rich are ostentatiously rich, and the poor are extremely poor. The weak government is corrupted. The country is in the epicentre of terrorism, both by the government and the Taliban insurgents.

The country is in shambles. Which prompts the question, what happens to failed nations? In 60+ years of its independence, Pakistan has never had a stable government. People are dying of hunger, infectious diseases, and illiteracy. The Urdu language, Pakistan's official language, is dying.

So, who should bail out Pakistan? What happens to failed states? Who comes to their rescue? Bush believed he was saving Iraqis from Saddam Hussein. G20 nations have their own economic problems to overcome. But, at the same time there are flattering nations like Pakistan, Haiti, Myanmar, which need our immediate focus. Or, is it all about survival of the fittest? Something I know Dwight Schtrute would attest to:

Michael Scott: No no no no, I mean have this kind of party. I look around and I see all these beautiful people who are alone on Valentine's and I think that there are other single people out there too. We just need to find 'em. There's a girl out there for all of us. Maybe even in this office park. There has to be a way to get all these lonely people together.

Dwight Schrute: What do you have in mind?

Michael Scott: I was thinking maybe like a mixer.

Dwight Schrute: Oh God that's a terrible idea.

Michael Scott: Old-fashioned meat market. I don't think it is.

Dwight Schrute: No. Lonely people mixing with one another? Breeding? Creating an even lonelier generation? You're not even allowing natural selection do its work. Pssh. You're like the guy who invented the seat belt.

Nikolai Gogol: The Nose

I read this second short-story of Nikolai Gogol's a month ago, but just didn't get a chance to write about it. It is hard to discuss this particular satirical story without ruining it. Furthermore, the story, as Gogol admitted himself, does not make much sense.

The Nose is about magical realism. A theme one may find in Woody Allen's movies, Family Guy, and South Park.



I was watching South Park the other day, and the Episode 1205 seemed awfully similar to Gogol's story, which was published in 1836. Only in the case of The Nose, the protagonist, Collegiate Assessor Kovalyov, wakes up one day to find that his nose is missing. Yes, his actual, physical nose. Some critics have hypothesized that the disappearance of the nose is seen as a castration complex. Others have argued that maybe the story is biographical, since Gogol was insecure about his nose, apparently.

Whatever the case, the story is well-written, and very HILARIOUS. As, I mentioned before, what strikes me the most about Gogol's writing is the fact how relevant his narrative is.

In his life Gogol's work was censored, because he had the courage to criticize the government. Similarly, I feel, it is in shows like South Park where we get to truly see our society's double-standards, and ignorance. For instance, as far as I know, only South Park has been able to truly point out the hypocrisy behind The Jonas Brothers, and the cloning factory that is the Disney Network. Well, South Park, and the Onion.


Disney Lab Unveils Its Latest Line Of Genetically Engineered Child Stars

A few centuries from now, that is if the world ends up surviving the economic and climate crises, I could see people studying South Park to mock our ignorance.

Urmmm...okay, I am done ranting.

Picket Fence

I had the hardest time writing this post. The thing is, I cannot isolate myself from Revolutionary Road. When I read this novel, written by Richard Yates, I could see myself in Frank Wheeler. This story is about broken promises, and unfulfilled dreams. The reason this story is unique because it is an anti-thesis of a typical coming of age tale.

Marianne Williamson said that our deepest fear is not realizing, we are insufficient, but coming in terms with our true potential. If we know we are intelligent and have the potential of achieving whatever we put our mind to, then we really have no excuse to fail.

Revolutionary Road took away the blind-faith that I would be happy in the end. It made me realize that sometimes even the most gifted, and blessed people are not happy in life. People like Frank and April Wheeler, who have everything going for them. Frank Wheeler is intelligent, attractive, and is married to a beautiful woman, with two kids. He earns a good living at a job he hates, where he does not really have to apply himself. He is financially well-off, and is living in a beautiful suburban house. His wife, April Wheeler, gets drawn to Frank because he has new ideals. He is mysterious and he has travelled the world. Whereas, April has not been anywhere. She took acting classes, and believed she could have been an excellent actress, if she had not gotten married and had Frank's two kids. But this false belief gets shattered when her local theater performance is declared mediocre by her suburban neighbours.

Together the couple ends up having this life which neither of them had expected. They find themselves getting lost behind the mundanity of white picket fenced suburbia. They are unhappy because the novelty that brought them closer is missing. They come to realize, neither of them is as unexceptional as the other thought they were. They get this grand idea to move to Europe where they could finally amount to something spectacular, out of the ordinary. This Old World fascination is akin to what many members of the Lost Generation felt, including Ernest Hemingway, and F. Scott Fitzgerald.

The reader or viewer is left to wonder, are these characters so lost because they got thrown into the circumstances they didn't expect? Both of them had hopes that they were beyond the simple and monochromatic lifestyle that one would expect from a husband, a wife, and parents of two children. The other question is, are these two characters "exceptional" because they are daring to be different, or are they flawed and foolishly idealistic because they want something they can't have? Perhaps, they should have tested their true potential before they got married.

In terms of the cinematic characterization, one thing I didn't like in the movie was the fact that April's character seemed more confused and lost than Frank's. April was shown to make more unrealistic and idealistic choices than Frank. Now that we are on the subject, let me discuss the movie a bit more. My favourite part of the movie was the beginning. April and Frank are shown walking down a hallway under ceiling lights, walking parallel to each other, but not right beside each other. I don't know if that makes sense, but to me I thought it was an effective way to set the premise of the story. In terms of acting, I am still angry with the fact that neither Leo DiCaprio nor Kate Winslet got nominated for their roles. They transpired Richard Yates words through their acting, with their body language and facial expressions. Both of these actors have the power to reach out of the screen and somehow move me with their performances. There are not that many actors I can say that for.

I was ready to hate the movie, because I never like film adaptations. But, the movie ended up helping my understanding of the novel and its author. For instance, for some reason I saw Richard Yates in Howard Givings, who turns off his hearing-aid because he doesn't want to hear anything negative about the Wheelers. I think, Yates felt sorry for the Wheelers, after all, the Wheelers are the embodiment of our worst fears and moments of self-doubt. We are afraid to be stuck in a job we don't like, or in a marriage that only seems perfect from the outside. Furthermore, Yates also included us in his story. We are shown both as the ordinary Campbells (more about them in a few minutes), and John Givings. Yates entrusted John Givings to ask the Wheelers our questions. John Givings screams and scolds the Wheelers for us.

Okay now something about the Campbells. Yates used this couple as a foil to highlight the Wheelers's flaws. Where the Wheelers are dreaming about moving to Paris, the Campbells are busy looking after their kids. Where Frank is dreaming about quitting his job, Shep Campbell is lusting after Frank's wife, April. See how simple and ordinary Shep's dreams are (!). At the end of the day, the question is would Shep prefer a wife who is like April or like his own wife, Milly. Milly is not as beautiful as April, but she is an excellent mother, and caregiver.

The other theme that had my mind going was manliness. April thinks that since Frank did not amount to her first reaction of him, he is incapable of carrying through and completely finishing a task. Even in the instances, when he raises his hand to hit her but holds back last minute, and does not follow through. She sees his failure to physically harm her as his inability to be a man. She actually says something along the lines that how Frank is not even man enough to harm her. Frank compensates for his un-maniliness by sleeping with a co-worker.

I would strongly suggest anyone out there who's reading this post to read the book. It will change the way you look at life and relationships. Too often we hold back emotions and resort to silences when just simple sentences and words would have been the best option. Too often we take life for granted. We take ourselves for granted.

Blogworthy: I'm How I Read

I apologize, if this post reads like a snoozefest. The first three articles explore the evolution of our reading and writing habits in the so-called Internet age, which is mainly governed by the imperious Google. I have also added someecards for aesthetic reasons :).

1. "Is Google Making Us Stupid?" [The Atlantic]

"Then again, the Net isn’t the alphabet, and although it may replace the printing press, it produces something altogether different. The kind of deep reading that a sequence of printed pages promotes is valuable not just for the knowledge we acquire from the author’s words but for the intellectual vibrations those words set off within our own minds. In the quiet spaces opened up by the sustained, undistracted reading of a book, or by any other act of contemplation, for that matter, we make our own associations, draw our own inferences and analogies, foster our own ideas. Deep reading, as Maryanne Wolf argues, is indistinguishable from deep thinking."


This article raises a very interesting point. I have noticed that Internet has changed my reading habits. The difference between Internet reading and actual traditional book reading is that I am not using my imagination as much. Words don't have the same effect if they are not on paper. I find, when I am reading in a secluded corner, I can imagine what the characters look like, and what the setting would feel like. I can better associate with the characters, and sometimes I can even see myself in the protagonist.

I read the newspaper online, but I am always switching between the articles. Or I get distracted by my MSN conversations. And, now I suffer from ADD. I find it a lot harder to read a book at home. I get better reading done on the subway. Or wait for summer to finally make its appearance so I can go out to read in my backyard.


"The idea that our minds should operate as high-speed data-processing machines is not only built into the workings of the Internet, it is the network’s reigning business model as well. The faster we surf across the Web—the more links we click and pages we view—the more opportunities Google and other companies gain to collect information about us and to feed us advertisements. Most of the proprietors of the commercial Internet have a financial stake in collecting the crumbs of data we leave behind as we flit from link to link—the more crumbs, the better. The last thing these companies want is to encourage leisurely reading or slow, concentrated thought. It’s in their economic interest to drive us to distraction."

The article also points out that we "read" more than we used to. But, we actually learn and reflect less than we did before. Relying on one source, our computer, for entertainment, academics, and leisure reading cannot be good for our brains.


2. "All Hail the Information Triumvirate!" [Britannica]

"Three things have happened, in a blink of history’s eye: (1) a single medium, the Web, has come to dominate the storage and supply of information, (2) a single search engine, Google, has come to dominate the navigation of that medium, and (3) a single information source, Wikipedia, has come to dominate the results served up by that search engine. Even if you adore the Web, Google, and Wikipedia - and I admit there’s much to adore - you have to wonder if the transformation of the Net from a radically heterogeneous information source to a radically homogeneous one is a good thing. Is culture best served by an information triumvirate?"

Again, a very true observation made by Nicholas Carr. Over the years, most of our Internet activity has become limited to Google and Wikipedia. And, Internet has become the primary source of information; and there is nothing wrong with that. Perhaps, it is a good idea if everyone around the world is relying on Wikipedia to learn about obscure things. We know that Internet has brought us closer. But the question is, how is our shared source of information affecting our political and social views?


"In Plato’s Phaedrus, Socrates bemoaned the development of writing. He feared that, as people came to rely on the written word as a substitute for the knowledge they used to carry inside their heads, they would, in the words of one of the dialogue’s characters, 'cease to exercise their memory and become forgetful.' And because they would be able to 'receive a quantity of information without proper instruction,' they would 'be thought very knowledgeable when they are for the most part quite ignorant.' They would be 'filled with the conceit of wisdom instead of real wisdom.' Socrates wasn’t wrong—the new technology did often have the effects he feared—but he was shortsighted. He couldn’t foresee the many ways that writing and reading would serve to spread information, spur fresh ideas, and expand human knowledge (if not wisdom)."

The other thing I am really curious about is, what would the next generation or some future civilization say about our blogging habits. I feel, and this is a sentiment shared by many, there are more writers out there than there are readers.


3. "Handwriting is on the Wall" [The Wall Street Journal]

"Typing and texting have caused cursive skills to atrophy, and schools regard standards of style and legibility the same way they regard standards of dress. There may even come a day when longhand writing can no longer be deciphered by ordinary people -- you'll have to bring those old letters in the attic to some fussy museum curator. In 2006 only 15% of students taking the SAT wrote out their essays in cursive script; all the rest -- no doubt to the relief of the examiners -- used block letters."

I have to admit, when it comes to handwriting I prefer printing over cursive script. I feel reading another person's handwriting is an intimate experience, especially these days when it has become such a novelty. I thought this article was interesting, because it got me thinking, when was the last time I actually sent a handwritten note to someone. Oh, how I miss passing notes in class!


4. "The hijab gets an eco-friendly makeover" [The Toronto Star]

I buy scarves from H&M and use them as head-wraps, or the Muslim headscarf, or the hijab (whatever you wanna call them :D). According to this article, a Canadian girl came up with the idea of making eco-friendly hijabs, locally. These hijabs are not only good for the environment but have also created jobs at home; helping our flattering economy. So, I am glad to report that hijab just got green :).

Nikolai Gogol: Diary of a Madman

One of my resolutions for this year is to read Russian literature. I was sharing this ambitious and rather suicidal goal of mine with my sister; and here is her response: "Make sure you also put down 'MUST NOT KILL MYSELF' as a resolution too." My dad, who is fluent in Russian, has been encouraging me to read Nikolai Gogol (in English, of course) since I was in middle school. He got me Nikolai Gogol's Dead Souls when I was a mere tween. And, people wonder why I am so morbid. So I finally caved in to parental pressure, and gaily cracked open my first Gogol: Diary of a Madman.

Diary of a Madman is a satirical and the most hilarious tragedy I have ever read. This short-story was written by Gogol in 1834, during Tsar Nicholas I's oppressive regime. Gogol wrote, ironically, to Pushkin: "Diary of a Madman met with a rather unpleasant little snag from the censor yesterday. But thank God things are a little better today. At least, all I have to do is throw out the best parts."

The story is set in imperial St Petersburg, my favourite Russian city. Gogol mocks Russian government offices, clerical staff, and social hierarchy through the insignificant eyes of the protagonist. Ivanovich, the Madman who writes these entries in his diary, sometimes refrains from writing about his love for the General's daughter.

The protagonist, in some ways, reminded me of the recurring character on SNL, Penelope, played by the amazing Kristen Wiig. Penelope is awfully hilarious yet a very annoying one-upper, whose brags miraculously turn out to be true, in the end.

The layout of the story reminded me of blogging. Ivanovich's journal entries begin with the corresponding date. In one of the entries he states that our desire to write comes from our innate need to share with others. As my high school English teacher used to say, "People inquire about your day not because they care. They ask so they can ramble about their own day."

There was an article published in the Atlantic a few months ago, wondering about the existential question many bloggers have faced: Why I blog? Here is my favourite excerpt from the article:

"As you read a log, you have the curious sense of moving backward in time as you move forward in pages—the opposite of a book. As you piece together a narrative that was never intended as one, it seems—and is—more truthful. Logs, in this sense, were a form of human self-correction. They amended for hindsight, for the ways in which human beings order and tidy and construct the story of their lives as they look back on them. Logs require a letting-go of narrative because they do not allow for a knowledge of the ending. So they have plot as well as dramatic irony—the reader will know the ending before the writer did."

My first posts were more impersonal, more about the impending humanitarian crises that concern me, such as Darfur. But with time I have been able to relinquish personal inhibitions, and, embarrassingly enough, have succeeded in broadcasting my single-status boo-hoos here. Blogging has also allowed me to connect with people who share similar interests, allowing me to associate with like-minded people. In some ways you guys know more about this so-called nerdy/dorkish side of me that I don't really reveal in real-life encounters. The reason I started this blog was because I realized I was running a risk of losing friends :). You see, I was boring them with my regular political rants. In fact, I have only told a couple of my friends about my existence in the blogosphere. I would find it really embarrassing if people who I associate with read my Random Ramblings.

"You can try to hide yourself from real scrutiny, and the exposure it demands, but it’s hard. And that’s what makes blogging as a form stand out: it is rich in personality. The faux intimacy of the Web experience, the closeness of the e-mail and the instant message, seeps through. You feel as if you know bloggers as they go through their lives, experience the same things you are experiencing, and share the moment."

Blogging, dorkishly enough, also defies the space-time continuum. People in the blogosphere are linked by time, but separated in space. (Sounds cheesy, right?) For instance, look at the time when Obama got elected, almost all of us wrote our myriad views on what his victory meant to us. This one event in time linked us, and prompted us to write something - positive or negative. A few years from now we can go back, and comb through our blog posts, and experience the immediate rawness we felt when these significant events, we blogged about, were unfolding...

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

This movie is no Forrest Gump. Brad Pitt is no Tom Hanks. Having said that, the movie is good. It is about love and life. It even got me choked up.

As the name suggests, the screenplay is based on the fairytale-like short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Fitzgerald's simple, and beautiful, short story is about a boy, Benjamin Button, who ages in reverse. Benjamin is born as a 70 year old man, and with the passing of time gets younger. But this is where the similarity between the screenplay and the short story ends. The writer Eric Roth, who also wrote Forrest Gump, took the premise and turned it into a story about compassion, and human curiosity.

However, Brad Pitt's acting is anything but curious. He seems distant, and does not fully embrace the character. Brad Pitt, unlike Leo DiCaprio, does not have the ability to move the audience with his performance. But I have to hand it to him, Pitt does look boyishly handsome in the movie. And, as an elderly he looks scary and cute at the same time.

In the movie, storm and water are used as symbolic devices. Storm is one constant unifying device which creeps up throughout the movie, tying the lose ends of chaos that is life. The water, the waves, and its myriad vivid colours never looked better on screen. I think, the water symbolizes fluidity. The message that in essence we are the same, no matter how we weather or, in the case of Button, thrive with time.

The movie filled in the gaps that Fitzgerald left in his very brief short story. The original story reminded me of Margaret Laurence's Stone Angel. When the protagonist, Hagar, in Stone Angel, is approaching her demise, she has flashbacks of her life. But the question is what happens when you come to this world weathered, wrinkly, and crippled, but die with innocence and baby freshness? Is it better to be haunted by the mistakes one made in his or hers life, or is it better to forget about the past experiences, and die with no recollection of the life lived?

Here is one of my favourite poems about death by Dylan Thomas.

"Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night"

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

LDN 3: Salad Platter

My sister and I decided to get an early start today. The museums here open at 10 AM, so we wanted to walk around the area before the opening. The plan was to visit the National Gallery and Tate Modern.

We got off at Leicester Square and walked around the area. This place is one of my favourite neighbourhoods in London. Here one could see the contrast between the old and new buildings. I have fallen in love with the old white and red bricked buildings here. Even though I walked around this area a million times before, I had never been to the National Gallery before. The building itself is in the Trafalgar Square and is gorgeous. The big dome inside the gallery is spectacular. I believe I took a picture of it. I am a bit obsessive with picture-taking, which annoys my sister a lot. Things my poor sister has to put up with, during this trip.

The National Gallery, like the most British museums and art galleries, is free, and very welcoming. I was drawn to this gallery because of Van Gogh and Monet's art pieces that are present here. This gallery also has one of the many water lilies painted by Monet. Monet and Van Gogh, along with Picasso, are my favourite artists. I also enjoyed the BSing session that ensued when my British friend and I decided to make sense of the paintings that surrounded us.

This was my first time visiting London with our very own Londoner travel adviser. He pointed out things that we wouldn't have noticed otherwise. Moreover, he pointed out our inherited Canadian traits, which were totally oblivious to us. Apparently, things considered polite in Canada are rather offensive in Britain. Also, he pointed out, compared to the British, we are overtly polite. He took us to a Persian restaurant for lunch. My sister and I had never had Persian food before, so it was a unique experience.

During the lunch we were comparing the degrees of racism between London and Toronto. Coming from Toronto, I had a strong belief that Toronto is one of the most multicultural cities in the world. Although, I am not as defensive about Toronto as my sister. But my friend made me see racism in a different light.

In Toronto, people are colour-blind in the sense that everyone is seen as an equal. For that reason I used to think that Toronto is one of the most tolerant non-racist cities in the world. As a visible minority I have not been attacked by racist slurs, but I have experienced passive racism. For instance, I never realized I was different from the rest of Canadians until I became more socially involved and started entering venues where one wouldn't really see a minority. I think it is a combination of our political situation where we are more skeptical of Muslims, or the fact that I have become more self-actualized that I have realized how different I am from the mainstream culture. For instance, in Jhumpa Lahiri's book the Namesake the protagonist grows up hiding his parents culture, whilst trying to fit within the American mainstream culture, but in his 20s he realizes that he is neither American or Indian, he is somewhere in the middle.

So going back to the first sentence of the previous paragraph, you might wonder what is wrong with being colour-blind, and reckoning everyone as equals. (I pondered over this question all day today). But the thing is we are not equals. Malcolm Gladwell discusses this topic in his new book Outliers. In his book, he discusses the age old dichotomy nature vs. nurture. He mentions, Bill Gates attended a high school that had a computer lab, and back then only a few schools had computer labs, and only a few teenagers had an early exposure to the computers. Moreover, Bill Gates also had an access to the computer labs in Seattle's Washington University. So by the time he got to Harvard, he already had an early start compared to his peers. This gave him an edge, and an advantage over others.

Similarly, the children of immigrant parents are not only left to learn the culture of their parents' adopted countries and their birth country on their own, but are also required to interpret the culture and translate it for their parents. The responsibility is on them to find a middle-ground where they have to find an equal balance between learning two languages at the same time. Stephen Jay Gould also discussed this phenomena in his book The Mismeasure of Man. In the book, he criticizes the biological determinism theory, which claims that IQ is inherited or it is some gene that you can locate. He mentions that intelligence is a combination of myriad factors.

So in Canada, by ignoring our differences we are not being anti-racist, but we are ignoring the obvious. You have probably heard of the "melting pot" and the "salad bowl" expressions. So after hours of pondering on London's double-decker I tried to come with an expression to classify the problem we have in Canada. Canadians clearly don't suffer from the melting pot phenomena. Canadians are allowed to express their cultural identities. We have Mandarin, Bengali, Jewish, Greek, and Muslim schools in Toronto. In downtown Toronto we have Little Italy, Portuguese and Greek neighbourhoods, the largest Indian bazaar, and one of the best China Towns in North America. Heck, our China Town is even bigger than the one in London.

But just because we don't have forced assimilation doesn't mean we have the salad bowl situation in Canada, where all the flavours are mixed. People from the same ethnicity (in most cases) have no exposure to other ethnicities. In my university, they had a halal hot dog vendor. Mind you, University of Toronto is one of the most culturally diverse universities. But, there were these two white students who had no idea what the word halal meant. One of them thought it meant that it meant the meat was organic. If someone asked me to explain halal, I would either explain it using the Jewish kosher meat practice, or just simply brush them off saying, "Oh, it is a religious thing." I don't know if I can blame this on my Canadian culture, for not really giving me the vocabulary to explain my religious heritage to someone, because after all we do focus on our commonality. We are all Canadians. We all came from somewhere. Regardless of our different ethnicities we all have equal opportunities in our True North strong and free.

Since, in most cases, we express our ethnic uniqueness only within our own communities, in our own community centres, we don't really get to mingle and learn about each other. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for the opportunities to express our cultural beliefs we have in Canada. I also love the fact that we have so many cultures living in Canada. But, we are all hidden in our own little neighbourhood pockets. The children who are brought up in Italian communities and neighbourhoods have no exposure to other minorities. They learn to classify them all as one social group, "the minorities", but yet as Canadians.

So what we have in Canada is a salad platter not a salad bowl. You have all these cultures present in the same country but there is no intermingling. However, in London, as my friend pointed out people are more aware of each others cultural uniqueness. They know what a sari looks like. There is no beating about the bush. They realize that not all British are the same. They are British but they are from different cultures. So in order to have a successful society you need to fulfill every one's needs as a collective-society, not as an amalgamation of various communities.

So this is where London, is yet again, better than us. Yes, there are cases of racial profiling where people of a particular ethnicity are stopped at the security checks. But the authorities are only doing that to ensure we are all safe. It is for our own safety.

So that was an enlightening discussion.

Going back to the details of my day. After lunch, we walked around the city. I think the best way to get to learn about a new place is through walking. But, for some reason London is extremely cold. I feel that I am dishonouring my Canadian heritage by being cold here in London.

I also had the best hot chocolate in this really posh place. Unfortunately, I have forgotten the name of the place. The hot chocolate was served in china cups, with three different types of sugar. There was a library in the sitting area. They also had a fireplace. Having a British friend totally paid off here :).

Later in night, we also visited Tate Modern. I had learned about this museum in the Time Magazine. As the name indicates the museum promised a collection of contemporary art. (Duh!) There were paintings, and visual and audio displays by a diverse group of artists. I really enjoyed the "Material Gestures Contemporary Paintings" wing. Here there were two amazing paintings by Pablo Picasso, called "Goat's Skull Bottle & Cattle", and "The Studio". I also really liked the following paintings:

- Albert Oehlen's "Loa"
- Mark Bradford's "Los Moscos"
- Claude Monet's "Water Lilies"
- Lee Krasner's "Gothic Landscape"

In the 1980's wing I exceptionally liked Julian Schnabel's "Humanity Asleep". The museum also has other interesting wings such as Poetry and Illustrations and States of Flux. The building of the museum reminded me of this building we had in my university (CCIT - if anyone's interested). It is by far the best museum I have visited during this trip.

After visiting the National Gallery earlier in the day, I had a new admiration for these contemporary artists. There was an illustration where the artist printed out a whole bunch of one paragraph stories and pasted them on a wall. And, you look at it and may wonder what is so special about this, anyone could have done that. I don't know if this art display would survive the test of time, but it surely, in my opinion, showed confidence. The artist had so much faith in his work that he sold the work to Tate Modern so other people can see it and wonder about it.

This made me think of Van Gogh. I consider Van Gogh as one of the best painters. His vibrant colours, self-portraits, starry night, sunflowers, his shoes, the painting of his room are beautiful in my eyes. But during in his life, he never considered himself to be good enough, and lived a life of sordid oblivian. I guess (and I am just hypothesizing here because other than the compulsory high school art credits I have never taken art history) what Van Gogh lacked was confidence in his work. As far as I know, he died alone, unknown, and poor.

Going back to Tate Modern, it is one of the most stimulating art galleries you may find. The only thing like this we have in Toronto is Nuit Blanche, where they display modern art. Tate Modern has the perfect location. On the way back we walked on the Millennium Bridge to return to Central London. I am planning on visiting it again, so we are gonna try to squish it in on our last day here in London.

I know this is probably the randomest post in the history of blogging. So apologies for that. I just had to get it all out, even though I am a day behind. I also apologize if it is incoherent as I am tired.

Slumdog Millionaire

So I finally watched Slumdog Millionaire. There is so much to say about this movie, and I am gonna try my best to not give anything away. I have never seen a movie like this, and I can't recommend it enough.

In one word, Slumdog Millionaire is inspiring.
I don't even know where to begin.

Okay first something about Simon Beaufoy's screenplay, which is based on Vikas Swarup's novel Q & A. The screenplay is not a close adaptation, but the story unfolds in the same manner as the book. I think the reason Beaufoy only followed the premise of the book, because even though the book is about "Jamal" (in the book the protagonist has a different name), the novel seems like a compilation of several vaguely similar short stories. I personally can't compare the screenplay with the novel. They are equally amazing, and go beautifully together. I can't believe Simon Beaufoy, who had never been to India prior to writing this most awe-inspiring script, was able to capture the lives and struggles of these slum kids with such blatant honesty.

Okay now about the direction. Danny Boyle is brilliant and extremely observant. He captures every little detail about Mumbai. I have never been to Mumbai, but I have been to Karachi enough times to know how these developing metropolises work. The rich are extremely rich, and the poor are poor beyond our imagination. Young children are bathing in murky water, and their mothers are doing laundry in the same water. I have actually seen that happening in Karachi. Again, you MUST go watch this movie to really appreciate the dedication that went into making this movie. I really hope Danny Boyle gets an Oscar for bringing this amazing story to our ignorant Western lives.

The acting is brilliant. The story follows Jamal's life from his childhood to adulthood. The child actors in the movie are actual slum kids. This part made the movie watching experience more painful, and the story more authentic. I have to admit, I was cringing and covering my eyes, grabbing onto my jacket to keep myself from bawling my eyes out in public. Everyone in the movie is brilliant, and does complete justice to their respective roles.

The background score is produced by A.R. Rahman, who is a brilliant musician. When asked about Rahman, Danny Boyle said, he doesn't know how to explain Rahman's musical brilliance to the Western audience, who are not fully familiar with his music. I am not a big Hindi music person, but I have always been an admirer of A. R. Rahman's songs, especially Chaiyya Chaiyya, and Ae Ajnabi. Sorry, going back to Slumdog Millionaire's soundtrack. Again, the music is so amazing that I am listening to it right now as we speak. Each character has their own distinctive theme. Again, another thing I would urge you to spend your money on: buy the Soundtrack :). My favourite song (there are so many to choose from) is the one called Dreams on Fire by A. R. Rahman and featuring Suzzanne. But again every single song on the record is worth your penny.

Before going to the movie, I was wondering why don't the good folks in India (Bollywood) make movies about the slums in Mumbai. Instead of showing the poverty in India, Hindi movies show rich Indians living in extravagant houses. But after watching the movie I found my answer. The reason we have the heart to watch movies about slums in India, and extreme poverty is because these atrocities are not part of OUR reality. We spend 12 bucks on a ticket, watch the movie, get moved by it, and return to our heated homes. But, a person in India who sees the slums, or is from the slums would not like to spend his or hers hard day's earning, just so he or she can be reminded of their ubiquitous brutal reality. They need a break. They need to escape from that reality and for a few hours want to be dazzled with the Indian singing and dancing, so they can witness and experience something other than watching kids fight for the last piece of bread, or just basic shelter. The other thing that is shown in the movie is how Indians literally worship the Bollywood stars. To them these are the screen gods who allow them to dream, who provide them with temporary happiness, and an escape from their lives.

Again, I can't recommend this movie or the book or the soundtrack enough. Please do go watch it. Films like this don't come around too often.



p.s. I hope they fly out the child actors to LA for the Oscars, because they need to be a part of the celebration and critical accolade.

A Puddle of Mush

Perhaps I should wait till Valentine's Day to expose my mushy side. But, I am a giant puddle of mush right now, so I figure writing about these embarrassing guilty pleasures, would be an effective way to evade me of my temporary insanity.

So here goes (in no particular order)...

1. The Prince & Me (2004)
I like this movie for sentimental reasons. It was filmed at my alma mater, in one of the several chemistry labs I had to take. The movie came out when I was taking pre-med requisites, so I felt some sort of kinship with the female lead, Paige Morgan (played by Julia Stiles). Paige falls in love with the Prince of Denmark, who for some reason has a British accent. Shouldn't he have a Scandinavian accent? But, hey, I am not the one to complain :). Regardless of the alluring accent, the best aspect of the movie: the girl is strong and she doesn't have to make sacrifices to be in love. Usually in the popular media, it is almost always the female lead who has to give up on her dreams to have that proverbial happily ever after. Even on Friends, Rachel had to give up on her Paris-dream to be with Ross. (Yes, clearly, I am still peeved about the Friends finale).

2. Two Weeks Notice (2002)
I love Hugh Grant and Sandra Bullock's chemistry. I love Bullock's character Lucy, who is an environmental lawyer, working hard for various social causes. She is smart and headstrong. Hugh Grant is very dashing and charming.

3. Wimbledon (2004)

4. Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (1995) - Translation: The lover will take the bride
In spite of its cheesy title, this was my first Hindi/Bollywood movie. So if you are considering on getting on the whole Bollywood bandwagon, I would strongly recommend this film. The story is very simple and extremely sweet. The movie is about two British-Indians who fall in love during their trip to Europe. The way the story unfolds is beautiful, because these two couldn't be any different. But when they get back to London, the male-lead finds out that the girl is already engaged to someone in India. The girl leaves for India, and the guy goes after her. There is a lot of singing and dancing involved, and the male-lead is very charming :). I think this is by far the best Indian movie I have seen.

5. Mulan (1998)
How can I not love this movie! There is an evil matchmaker encounter at the beginning of the movie. Mulan is unlike any other Disney princess; that girl can kick butt. This movie, I reckon, can be blamed for my love for Spring Blossom trees. Yes, sadly, I have a favourite tree.

Okay, now my turn to reveal my sappy book choices.

Love Story
You have probably heard of the most famous and beat up quote from this book: "Love means never having to say you are sorry." They even made fun of this line on the Simpsons. I have read this book a gazillion times, and know it by heart by now. Whenever I am sick, and too brain-dead to read anything, this is the book I turn to. It is a sweet romantic story, but it is not cheesy.

Breakfast at Tiffany's
This novella by Truman Capote is ten times better than its film adaptation. Capote is an amazing writer. I love the way he has written this story; leaving the reader with a little glimpse of hope.

Now time to reveal my absolute mushy songs. Again, in no particular order:

1. Lady in Red by Chris De Burgh
Wars have been fought over this song. When my friend and I first discovered this song, we argued to decide who would get to make this particular song their wedding song. The battle is still unsettled, so whoever gets married first would get to play this song at her reception.

2. Take My Breath Away by Berlin
I absolutely love this song. Nothing can kill this song for me. Not even Jessica Simpson.

3. Heaven by DJ Sammy
This was the song, when it came out. It was the song they played at my high school formal. It brings me back to those times of gleeful innocence, where you are not so jaded by the reality, and things are still very rosy.

4. Edge of the Ocean by Ivy
She is dreaming about a place where the sun never goes down. It gives me that twirly feeling :).

5. Dreaming of You by Selena
I absolutely love this song. It is such a bittersweet song.

6. With or Without You by U2
U2 is my favourite band. I know, a lot of this has to do with Bono's humanitarian efforts. But, I think their music has evolved with time, and yet they have somehow managed to stay true to their genre. I think, it is a very sweet song.

7. Romeo and Juliet by Dire Straits
I love the lines: "I can't do everything but I would do anything for you / I can't do anything except be in love with you."

8. When the Stars Go Blue by The Corrs & Bono
This is the perfect wedding-first-dance song. I know there are many versions of this song, but I only love this one.

9. Fidelity by Regina Spektor
I think, this song right here describes me to a T.

10. I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking for by U2
Another U2 song. I figure this song would be the perfect way to finish off this post.

Garden State

Last night, I finally got around to watching Garden State by Zach Braff. I have been meaning to watch this movie for a while now, and had the soundtrack, which is amazing by the way. Since I am also reading Ernest Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises these days, I couldn't help myself from drawing parallels between the two.

Hemingway's semi-autobiographical The Sun Also Rises is about the expatriate lifestyle many American writers opted for in the Post-World War I era. But one doesn't have to leave his or her country to feel alone and lost, you can feel that even at your home. It is this feeling of dismal depression, Zach Braff's character finds himself in. Braff's character is a struggling desolate actor living in Los Angeles, who doesn't have his life in order. He returns home to New Jersey, the Garden State, for his mom's funeral, and during his short stay reconnects with old high school buddies.

Zach Braff, who also wrote and directed this movie, during the post-production said, we go through physical puberty in our teens, but our 20s are about mental emancipation. I think once school is done and you have achieved whatever academic goals you had set out for yourself, and you start to take your first steps into the real world, you get this sense of awakening. In some cases, it is the realization, is that what you were working so hard for, is that why you pulled all those all-nighters in university?

The other feeling that I have to deal with is this sense of lack of achievement. For instance, in my case there are still a lot of books that I have to read. So many authors I haven't read. Take Ernest Hemingway for example, he is a renowned American author, and this is only the second book of his I am reading. Or the fact that I still have to crack open my copy of War and Peace that I purchased a couple of months ago. I still have to read Homer's Iliad and Odyssey.

I had the same sense of under-achievement when I was reading Raphael's biography the other day. Raphael painted The School of Athens in his late 20s. I have had the pleasure of seeing some of his masterpieces in their original form, in my early teenage years, and now reading about his achievements reminded me of the ambitions I had then.

In the movie, Zach Braff's character says something along the lines that you can't wait for your life to happen you have to start living it now.

I am not measuring my achievements in the amount of books I have read, or the artwork I have seen. I have graduated with distinction from one of the best universities in the world, and in some people's eyes that is a big achievement. But, I personally don't see that as an achievement, I could be proud of. And, this is not a case of false humility. In terms of knowledge and wisdom, there is still so much I don't know. I still have to read and benefit from the literary masterpieces of great minds such as Tolstoy, George Elliot, George Orwell, Thomas More, I can keep going...

But, I guess this is what the 20s are all about. Finding our place in the world, and making sure we don't get lost in obscurity of the whole 9 to 5 quotidian.

Arbeit macht frei

War Crimes.

Who do you punish for war crimes? They are ordered by a political leader, and carried on by soldiers, who are just doing their jobs.


"But executioners don't hate the people they execute, and they execute them all the same. Because they are ordered to? You think they do it because they're ordered to? And you think that I'm talking about orders and obedience, that the guards in the camps [Nazi concentration camps] were under orders and had to obey?...An executioner is not under orders and obedience. He's doing his work, he doesn't hate the people he executes, he's not taking revenge on them, he's not killing them because they're in his way or threatening him or attacking. They're a matter of such indifference to him that he can kill them as easily as not."

The above lines are taken from the book 'The Reader', which I recently finished reading. The book is about relationships, and the morality of war crimes. It is very well-written and in my opinion is a must read. If you haven't read it yet, I can't recommend this book enough. The film adaptation stars Kate Winslet, and the movie comes out in December.



In the book, the narrator, who had an illicit affair with a former SS guard when he was 15 years old, struggles with the moral dilemma: What does loving a Nazi make him? The narrator also belongs to the generation that grew up in Post WWII Germany, and has to not only deal with his own moral predicament but is also burdened with his nation's guilt.

In the past, I have compared the Holocaust to the genocide in Darfur. But reading Bernhard Schlink (the author)'s description of the concentration camps not only reminded me of Anne Frank and the plight she went through, but also about our modern-day version of Auschwitz, Guantanamo Bay. Guantanamo Bay was commissioned by the Bush administration so those with "terroristic" inclinations could be sent away to Cuba, where they wouldn't have to be treated according to the Geneva Convention treaties. Its defenders say the treaties of Geneva Convention don't apply to the Guantanamo detainees because Al-Qaeeda and Taleban terrorists are not uniformed soldiers, they don't belong to any particular country's military. Yes, they are not legitimate uniformed soldiers, but they are humans. Shouldn't we be treating all humans with respect!

The much revered Western value, innocent until proven guilty doesn't apply to Gitmo suspects. Upon their arrival they are already considered extremely dangerous, referred to as "enemy combatants", and are put through extreme abuse. They are not only denied legal liberties, but also face extreme torture.

The only Western foreigner left at Gitmo is Canadian born Omar Khadr. He was sent to Gitmo when he was only 15, accused of killing a US soldier. He has already spent 6 years there, and is 21 now. I am not gonna speculate whether he willingly committed the crime or not, that's for the jury to decide. BUT, a vulnerable child shouldn't be housed in the same prison as other grown men. Not much has been done to provide him with the same rights he would have had in his birth country.

The guards believe that the detainees deserve the treatment they are graciously bestowed upon at Gitmo. President-elect Obama has said he would put an end to the atrocities that go on in Guantanamo. But the question is where would he send them? So far out of 225 prisoners (mostly Muslims) only 23 have been charged. The crime of other 204 detainees: They have the ultimate horror of having Muslim names.

Once Gitmo is eventually closed down, would the guards be persecuted, like their SS predecessors? Till this day we still don't know enough about what actually goes on at Gitmo. Navy Lt. Cmdr. Matthew Diaz was court-martialed because he publicized the names of Gitmo detainees. Humanitarian organizations, such as the United Nations and Amnesty International have been denied access to the camps and the interrogation rooms.

I think the reason Holocaust still effects us because decades after decades we keep repeating the mistakes of Nazi Germany. There's always some ideology that prompts its adherents to wage a political vendetta against innocent people, who are guilty of having the "wrong" pigmentation, or belonging to the "wrong" religion.

Inside Guantanamo - Photo Essay
Inside the Interrogation of Detainee 063

Alan Bennett: The Uncommon Reader

The Uncommon Reader is a modern day fairytale about reading. The author Alan Bennett toys with a very unlikely possibility: what would happen if Her Majesty became a voracious reader. The Queen of England starts reading the likes of Proust, Henry James, Nabokov, T.S. Eliot, among many others. Reading ends up making her more introspective, and she realizes, reading is like a muscle, the more you read, the more you learn to enjoy it.

Consequently, her staff is not too happy about her new endeavor. They are worried, her reading would further alienate her from her subjects. Their concern, she shouldn't be doing something which her subjects are not too keen on. Reading is seen as an elitist activity. This part reminded me of the US politics. Poor Obama has been criticized of being an elitist both by Clinton (in the primaries) and McCain, because of his intelligence and eloquence. Based on modern day political wisdom, we want our leaders to sound stupid.


Moreover, reading is a symbol of status. People are judged based on the books they read. A few months ago, I read this essay in the New York Times called, It's Not You, It's Your Books. Basically if a guy has to impress a girl with his reading, he shouldn't be mentioning the names of middlebrow authors such as Dan Brown. An avid reader of Russian authors like Pushkin and Tolstoy would be considered irresistible among the highbrow book-nerds. So the old saying, never judge a book by its cover, could be rephrased to, never judge a reader by the books he or she reads. I guess, the act of reading is not just about losing oneself to the world one is not familiar with. Or learning about people's experiences and stories. Or even finding comfort in the knowledge that our personal struggles are very universal, and not so unique after all. But our choice of books tells others something about us. I am a huge fan of Margaret Atwood, so maybe loving her books makes me a feminist. I also like reading books where the characters have conflicted-personalities. This doesn't mean I am conflicted (well, let's just hope not), but I just like complex characters.

This book, however, was not complex at all. It is a very quick read, arguing for the importance of reading. As the Queen mentions in the book, reading is an act anyone can do. It transcends cultural and social boundaries. All you need is a library card, and voila you have earned a free pass to an endless world of new adventures and knowledge. Reading is the least egocentric activity. However, the aforementioned article, contradicts this statement.

Reading to me is a personal experience, something we do alone. Most of us don't go to the movies alone, or watch the telly alone. But when we are reading, it is just us and the book we are flipping through. Sometimes these books make us cry and there are times they make us laugh out loud. I started reading Nick Hornby's 'Slam' last night, and the book has already made me snicker twice.

I don't know when reading became a status symbol, or why it is considered a boring and/or an elitist activity...