Incoherent Innuendos

Disclaimer: The plot might seem vague and obscure; reading between the lines shall be the key. The characters in the story are dorky to an extent that I wish they existed; they have an incoherent vibe to them, which highlights their contradictions.
The story is in the form of a narrative, and the narrator, a character.

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Somewhere towards the countryside, near a coastal area in India, in a filthy low-key flat lived Ms. Sophia. She was 65, single and happy; “No man has been special enough…yet” she once said. She was the kind of woman who’d help even a stranger, but that’s after she’s done blabbering her (subconsciously fictional) stories out to him/her. But, she had a habit of lying about things as unnecessary as not plucking a flower or breaking a mug.
Ms. Sophia desperately wanted a kid, but did not like the idea of contributing to the population explosion in India; ergo, she adopted a kid. Riu; was a keen reader of whatever Arthur Conan Doyle wrote. She was brilliant at spot-the-difference games.
Adjacent to Ms. Sophia’s apartment was a slum, particularly infamous, because the entire lot of drug addicts around were to be found there. Musa was one of them; he was an abandoned child, who was apparently a disgrace to the family because he was a dwarf. This led him to the hideous path of intoxication. During the day, he would volunteer at Dog Shelters and at night, he was high on some insane substance.
Over the years, Musa had developed a bond with Ms. Sophia and was often found discussing ‘life’, over tea, with the cheerful old lady. Riu was equally fond of him; he taught her lessons that she never found in books.
On a field day for my psychology project on substance abuse, I was searching for the abovementioned slum, when I lost my way. I landed up at Ms. Sophia’s door, asking for directions as she offered me water and narrated me a story about how her cat was found sleeping in the bedside drawer once; it was only then that I got accustomed to Musa. And it was ten minutes after meeting him that I decided; he is going to be my human subject for psychology. He was apprehensive about the same, so it took some practical knowledge of my subject to convince him. I promised to pay them a visit, the following week.
Sophia’s house was robbed, and it was Musa who planned it all. Musa was short of money and there were people ready to kill him and so he acted to his accord. While the policeman was busy drawing a map of the house, Riu investigated the theft. The only piece of jewellery left in the house was something Musa gifted her, and it was Musa who planned their visit to the beach nearby. Everything made sense now.
With a sharp knife in her back pocket, Riu went on to search for and confront Musa…
As I reached the apartment, flustered…it was clear that the culprit was Musa, yet Ms. Sophia was defending him on circumstantial grounds and withdrawing the FIR she lodged.
The next thing I see is, Riu fiddling with the cat; and the next thing I hear is of Musa’s mysterious suicide.
Epilogue: I scored a 30/30 in the psychology practical.

Mediocrity is underrated and omnipresent
Well, I, I’m just an example of the same,
And I enjoy being ordinary.
I’m a stark canvas,
I’m tired of all the colors
being splashed on me;
There is nothing abstract
This canvas will turn out to be.
I’m not a paradox,
Just another hyperbole..

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing, there is a field. I will meet you there.”
This is where Imtiaz Ali goes for inspiration, to Rumi.
With this quote being the last dialogue in Rockstar and the one, with which begins Tamasha.
The movie is set up in a theatrical format.
With the prologue, Imtiaz Ali presents to us- A Joker(Deepika Padukone) and a Robot(Ranbir Kapoor) enacting a play on stage. That’s definitely one of the best moments in the movie. Ranbir is his usual self, talented. But it’s Deepika who just doesn’t stop improving.
The first half of the movie is enchanting, scenic and abstract. It deals with two strangers in a foreign land, from the same land, trying to live in a fictional world by keeping each other in the dark. It’s the story of lies trying to bring out the truth…
“It is a sexual encounter between strangers that has the swift compression of a dream and is seemingly free of all remorse and guilt. It is absolutely pure, there is no power game and it is free of ulterior motives.” –Erica Jong
This is exactly what happens in the first half.
Later, when ‘Tara’ tracks ‘Ved’ down, she is looking for the guy she met in Corsica. Someone who’d drink water from the river like an animal, someone who is wild and uninhibited; but who she bumps into in a planned coincidence is a completely different man. Someone who has his job because he is well- mannered. It is portrayed in the movie how ‘Ved’ puts his phone on silent before kissing ‘Tara’. THAT is how formal this man had become for the sake of fitting in. Which we all do, eventually. Conform.
Tara refuses to be around this robot, but is still magnetically drawn to the man inside, the free-spirited guy hiding behind the veil of sophistication.
Post that breakup, Ved shows slight symptoms of a split personality disorder and is thrown out of this job.
After being thrown out of his job, Ved pursues storytelling and he is obviously successful. A scene in which Ved confronts his father is where he makes us confront ourselves. With his acting prowess, he has yet again struck the chord. Because, where interest and aptitude meet is the path to success. It makes you want to behave like you’d do if there weren’t all these limitations on you about eating Sushi with chopsticks and apologizing every two seconds about being a blabbermouth.
Now, this whole story revolves around what the character played by Piyush Mishra says throughout. He is my favorite character in the movie. Forgetful and dorky, yet philosophical.
With this character, Imtiaz answers ‘Why the same story every time?’
The movie has one of the most beautiful ends; it makes you feel liberated, exhilarated, warm and fuzzy.
Half the movie is A R Rahman’s music and Irshad Kamil’s lyrics crooning in your ears, which gives it the theatrical touch and is like a cherry over the cake.
Ranbir and Deepika have this ability to be insanely relatable and convincing in their roles.
The clichéd platitude about a child forced into becoming an engineer is what we have seen before, but how it’s portrayed is different. What the movie tries to deal with are the internal conflicts we face, and aren’t ready to accept. For an artist, this movie is a multitude of emotions that one deals with on a daily basis. The way human psychology is dealt with is too heavy for the audience to take in. This movie has ample lessons hidden behind the satirical dialogues, what you take from it is how you perceive certain things. The script makes you laugh on Ved’s tragedy who is playing just another typical urban man. Basically, you’re laughing at yourself.
It’s a movie about storytelling, which Imtiaz Ali excels at.
Despite all this, this movie is meant for a limited audience. It’s one of those complex movies about internal conflicts which has a lot of meaning and requires a certain level of understanding. You need to be slightly empathetic to understand what is trying to be said. It is out there, loud and clear; only if contemplating life was that easy…
To conclude with, this movie is a must watch for a lot of reasons.
But if you’re a Rumi fan, or a theatre enthusiast. I’d definitely recommend you to stop thinking and do yourself the favor of watching Tamasha.

“So what are your hobbies?”

“I write.”

“Wow, you look like that. I mean, I’m not being judgemental but you just..the way you’re dressed up and you have that kind of expression..I don’t know. You just look like one.”

“You are judgemental, you know. You have to be. That’s how you form core schemas about someone in your head; you have to be judgemental to be opinionated, you have to be judgemental to be observant and you have to be judgemental to empathise.”

That’s an extract from my conversation with a friend’s friend, when he was a stranger.

Why are we so uncomfortable about accepting that we judge, we even judge people on how they drink their fucking coffee. It’s not deliberate, it’s natural.

We have this perception that labelling is a negative way to attribute someone. The same way we perceive Indian Politics as dirty.

I think generalizing is the problem, not judging.

Labelling leads people into various complexes about self and Indian Politics is dirty, those are facts. But there is another side to both these things which is not discussed or thought up on.

Well, politics isn’t my forte. I’ll focus on labelling.

You have a set of adjectives in your subconscious mind about everyone you’re accustomed to. Everyone.

Once you dare to mention those, you unknowingly make an impact.

I was once tagged on social media as an avid reader when all I’d read was a few Paulo Coelho books and the infamous Fifty Shades trilogy; and maybe because I had good command over the English language. Reading/writing was something I’d never envisioned myself indulging in. I was a tomboy who considered herself a sports prodigy, I was a performer, I was an orator but never someone who’d someday be inclined towards this particular field.

I wanted to disagree, but I didn’t, because I enjoyed that tag. Because, I felt good about being called an ‘avid reader’.

That silly post by someone of no significance in my life impacted me to an extent that today if you interact with me, I’ll quote Hemingway, Shaw, Nietzsche and Allan Poe like my mother read it to me while I was in her womb.

Today, I’m pursuing English Honours from the University of Delhi.

That’s the impact that judgemental acquaintance made in my life.
Though what we usually associate with this term is disparaging or depreciating someone’s worth. This is where empathy has to play its role. If you’re an empathetic person, your interpersonal skills aren’t hidden from the world. You need to understand when to state the judgements you make.

Disliking someone, yet understanding why they are the way they are is the sign of an empathetic person.
We believe that people’s overall worthiness, as human beings, is tied to their prowess in various activities. Which is not the case, we can value everyone as being equally worthy even as we recognize differences in their abilities. People love Sachin Tendulkar more so, because he seems to be great human being, than only being the kinesthetic genius that he is.
What we need to learn, is to discern. Being able to express your true, authentic opinions about others, and not feeling weighed down by the worry that you are being judgmental is a quality most of us lack in this diplomatic world. This is something we need to ingrain, and it will not only help us judge people better, it will make us recognize negative statements made about us positively.

“What kind of music do you like?”
“I don’t know if what I hear has a name or is a particular genre…”
“Rock, Pop, Country, House or Classical…anything?”
“See, honestly, EDM is definitely not what appeals to me, nor do any of the famous British or English musicians. As a child, what I was exposed to was Kishore Kumar, the Ali Khan clan and R. D. Burman’s ‘type’ of music. Today, my playlist consists of A. R. Rahman and Amit Trivedi’s compositions. I know I give off total snobbish hippie vibes, but THAT’S the kind of music I am a diehard fan of, what most consider ‘boring’ variety of music.”
“Um, okay.”

Ashamed of Bollywood music, aren’t we?
The definition of music is different for everyone.
Music is like the food mothers make; everyone loves the food their mothers make but they won’t necessarily relish what someone else’s mom cooks. The only difference is that you don’t get to choose your mother, but you do get to choose what reflects your personality, your playlist or your favorite artist. Actually, it also depends a lot on what sort of music you’ve been exposed to.
In high school I was hesitant about the music that I enjoyed, I’d literally learn Linkin Park and Bruno Mars songs’ lyrics, because well, peer pressure makes you do shit you wouldn’t want to admit. But, when today my best friend goes after my life to hear EDM and dance to it, I make the bland face he does when I say “Rockstar’s soundtrack gave me chills, hear it out, PLEASE.”
Everyone from my generation at least has definitely had a Linkin Park phase, but, in the end it doesn’t even matter…
I remember learning the lyrics of ‘Numb’ and ‘Just the way you are’ and I am not ashamed to admit it because I know all of us have done this.
As of now, I’ve discovered what I like to hear.
I sometimes think if A. R. Rahman is ever creatively satisfied. What he creates is sheer genius; using adjectives to describe it would be superficial. But, somewhere I believe that either you can be creative or content. Creativity dies when you’re content with your work, you need to be restless and you need to explore what piques your curiosity.
Art is organic and it would not evolve if the artist is satisfied, an artist always needs to challenge his/her vulnerabilities.
Coming back to our playlist being a reflection to our personality; I believe, your playlist is like a piece of clothing you own which Sabyasachi didn’t design exclusively for you, it was out there in the market available to all and you bought it. There will be people who’d have the same taste as yours and who’d also have bought the same piece of clothing; but the memories you have of the time you worn it wouldn’t be same as of the other person. Even if it won’t fit you, you would want to keep it and treasure it.
It need not be exclusive, but it is treasured.
It does not mean that you won’t make additions to your wardrobe and that you won’t experiment with your outfits.
Enough of the closet, what I mean is that I’ve tried a lot and I could not convince myself to like English or British bands/artists. Basically, I’ve figured out my sense of style.
Music has to comfort you and make you feel something; artists like Papon, Rekha Bharadwaj, Swanand Kirkire, Ram Sampath and KK do that for me.
Not that I don’t enjoy being out of my comfort zone. I’m someone who has theories about how awesome discomfort is. I think that post being out of your comfort zone is when you experience utmost contentment. When you put yourself in that zone where your heartbeat is dancing like alphabets do in front of a dyslexic person and when that moment is over; that short span in between where you feel normalcy- is exhilarating; and it’s that calm moment of self-actualization we all subconsciously want to accomplish. Despite all this, the last thing I’d want to experiment with is my ‘type’ of MUSIC. I’m proud of my taste in music.
At the end of the day, Chetan Bhagat, Durjoy Dutta, Arundhati Roy and Rabindranath Tagore are all Indians and their books are available in every bookstore, it’s for you to choose.
(Please get the obvious reference.)

When I’d entered teenage, I thought that this discrimination I’ve been constantly reading about in my textbooks is created by God more than mankind. Like, women have periods and men don’t. And then my mother told me how women have the gift of bringing another human being in this world, men don’t have that privilege. “Isn’t it a blessing in disguise?” I said. (Yeah, I’ve been a smart kid.)

I believed (paying emphasis on the past tense, are you?) that men are considered physically strong because whenever women were to encounter men in a wrestling match they were on their period. Blood loss obviously causes weakness. I think I need to mention that I thought all this when I’d just entered puberty, again. I was a tomboy, and I was just feeling bad because I was told that I can’t tell my guy friends about this monthly affair, when I had only guy friends. And I always was always a typical Leo craving for attention.

“The advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social and economic equality to men.”

That is how Feminism is defined in my phone’s dictionary.

All this hype around the term is apparently a proof of how we are overdoing it.

Well, honestly, isn’t ‘Feminism’ as a term discriminative…

It was just a thought, because feminine is a term we associate with women, not with equality.

Can we really have an equalist world; this question has been bugging me for a while now.

Because psychology has taught me about every one human being at least slightly more dominant/submissive than the other.

Moreover, when a couple of people are accustomed to each other, one of them has slightly more dominant traits than the other; When you’re in a group of people, there will be people you look up to, people you detest being around and people you feel match your frequency. Then, why are we not okay with the fact that all this while, since a millennium or centuries or decades men( a society) are ruling over women( another society). It is unjust, true. But, someone has to be the one stepping ahead.

We need to ask ourselves if men are the only reason for the patriarchal setup being functional, like it is.

If we do not ingrain in children that they have to stand up to certain standards as per their gender, more than half the problem is solved.

I do not associate myself with the term feminist. It’s too…feminine. I’d rather have a huge number of people working under me, because I aim to be smart enough to be able to achieve that. I’d rather be called an achiever, than being categorically labeled as a woman; And I’d want to do that because I don’t want genders to be used as adjectives.

We need to stop teaching girls that they’d better shut up. We need to make blunt and straightforward humans, not elegant women or muscular men.

If the concept of feminism is to empower women, where are we going with the equality bit?

Imbalance is a law of nature. Like, attaining perfection is an illusion; living in an equalist world is a disillusion.

Women need narrative space to equal out all the privilege men have been receiving all these years, that is a fact. But to catch up to men, we need to stop considering them better than women in any possible aspect.

Instead of trying to make up for what has been happening against women, let us focus on creating a new definition of women; and that definition better be art, it has to have no boundaries.

Or better, let’s not be men and women, rather individuals.

I came across something by Nikola Tesla and I think this is exactly where we’re leading to with all the feminism blooming.

“The female mind has demonstrated a capacity for all the mental acquirements and achievements of men, and as generations ensue that capacity will be expanded; the average woman will be as well educated as the average man, and then better educated, for the dormant faculties of her brain will be stimulated to an activity that will be all the more intense and powerful because of centuries of repose.”

Women will lead, and men will have to step back.

Maybe, then, four centuries later men will be fighting battles against inequality.

Unlike the people who’s blog titles are in accordance with literary devices, mine was a mere coincidence.
It is for a fact that alliteration was the first literary device my thick skull could easily comprehend, but that isn’t the reason for whenever you’d open this link ‘Incoherent Innuendos’ would flash in front of your screen. There is a story. As for my belief, which sounds more like a cliche’…there is a story everywhere.
When I watch the birds early morning while the sky is like cobalt, after the comforting darkness, I write. Observing a bird sitting on your house’s terrace and writing what you perceive of what it must be thinking is simply entertaining, to me. As for my mother, “You don’t become a creative genius if you write about nature, what are you even up to..”
Much ego boost, mamma.
So, it was the day after that exceedingly motivating morning while I was on whatsapp, chatting, with a close buddy.
She believes, conversations on my shore are mostly innuendos. It is like my form of speech. If that makes you think that I am arrogant, I’d take that as a compliment. Yes, thanks.
Later that evening, I wrote something for my brother’s website and he went around sending it to his friends for validation. He told me how two people used the same adjective for that write up- Incoherent.
Again, I took that as a compliment.
Because, I have accepted that I have a vague and obscure mind and I enjoy the mess.

I was pooping when it struck me, ‘Incoherent Innuendos’. And the tagline was as spontaneous as SRK hosting the Filmfare Awards along with Saif. It’s alliteration not because I am too cool for school, but because it makes perfect sense where describing me in two words is considered. These two words for me are as fit as the banana peel on a banana.

 Reading through the odd text
  my mind raced to the raindrops;
  Calling out for me
  As the epiphany struck,
  I squealed with delight..
  Welcoming the first gust
  The rain brought with it,
  Remembering the comparison
  Hemingway drew between
  His love and the rain;
  Every drop brought with it
  A strange newness
  To the nuances of life
  As I sat there, complying and obedient
  Controlling my urge to drench in the
 Overwhelming joy of nature,
  Running was my vivid imagination,
  Translating and interpreting
  Images of its beauty;
  As 'twas unknown to me
  And unlikely a behavior
  By my usual self, I inhaled
  The scent of wet mud and
  Was fast asleep by the lullaby
  The nature recited as poetry.....