A Crush & some tradition.

arab_by_xxdalxx.jpgThe mind is faster than the wind, or so Birbal said.

Was seated in the conference hall of a top class 5 star hotel in preparation for a marketing workshop. Was moving along in a characteristic uncomfortable fashion as has been my wont for quite some time. A good mix of people of varying backgrounds and age groups. Knew a few people and did not know the majority of the populace. Some women caught my attention for predictable reasons and some did for reasons which will float to the fore in some time. Patience dear.

The meeting started with the most unexpected statements made up of generalisations. I was soon drifting in and out of exhaustion and sleep due to the overnight flight to Bangkok. This was an interesting phenomenon because I was not able to keep myself awake for more than 5 seconds in a stretch. My mind would go on and off in clockwork precision. Never felt guilty though.

Soon my eyes began to wander. The mind was on a scent. The object of desire was new, but the scent was not. Eyes would wander in the direction of a figure dressed in black. The scent lasted until the tea break. I had a strong coffee and was totally attentive for the next hour or so. The scent was faint this time. Fingers traced graphite in two or three places.

Returned to my room with exhaustion of enthusiasm and a bit of fatigue in my body. Picked up a dvd of a old tamil movie that I had brought by mistake. It was in a non-descript crypt in my laptop bag. Was a movie which had been released in the 1980s. The movie on one side and the view of the Bangkok skyline was an interesting contrast. The scent was renewed from the depths of my mind. The scent morphed into questions of identity between contrasts thrown up by life. On one side I was allured by the etiquette and sophistication exuded by the woman in black. On the other side, the quintessential simplicity and natural flow embodied by the South Indian woman dressed in a half-saree was making me nostalgic and reminiscent of my deep roots somewhere in a small village in South India. Where was I?

I had to make a clarification-where do I belong? This was a repetitive feeling for quite some time. Between the villages of my native place in Madurai and the modern skylines of cities. Between women in modern clothes and the traditional half-saress of my village. Between unabashed diplomacies during twelve hour worklife in swank offices and the illiterate, but educated emotional dramas played out in my village.

I choose both as a fine balance between both worlds as there are never two worlds, but two approaches. There must be a unity between the best of both. Easy words,…difficult actions. Words,…and some more.


2 Responses

  1. I knew it ………….!!!!!!

    Jokes apart, I feel the same way for many things in life … where I am faced with my traditional self and my new-age-world-have-to-live-up-to-it self….

    But then I make an attempt to have a balance … for example my attitude towards sex and relationships is traditional … the way my family.. my people sees it … but I do enjoy a bit of flirting here and there or may b a jive in a discotheque …

  2. Change the picture.The picture shows woman in white 🙂

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