Over the past few months, I have felt some honest emotional core missing from all the articles that I have read. There have been excellent articles to be sure – Suhel Seth’s roast, the expose on Kahani– and I do not even expect all articles to take me on an emotional hyperdrive. The famous letter to a Punju Boy is at best a rant, and not the best that has been written on the same theme, and its follow-up seems to be more a desperate bid to cash on an unexpected windfall as it rather incorrectly makes it a boys-vs.-single-girl crusade and works on a rather incurious logic that while bloggers are free to rant as viciously and stereotypically as they want, it being their blog, the commentators have to follow some norms defined by the very intemperate blogger.
Certain people on facebook have to end everything, everything, on a punchline. Seriously.
Then there are some favorite bloggers once who now have to have an armchair-side opinion on all themes they ever broached. So much so that when something happens, a cricketer retires, something else becomes topical, I can turn to their blogs in a couple of days and know there will be a post waiting for me there. Topical, vehement, but hollow.
In that respect, this article touched me with its honesty. It is what it is – what the author feels about, she has not been pushed to it by something that came in the news and is going to invite a lot of eyeballs if cashed on immediately, but something that touched her – simply. It is sentimental, because it is truly heartfelt and she does not have to cover with cleverness and punchlines.
2 comments:
You know I've thought about this so much. Sometimes I feel really crappy when people say things like "Yeah but that's mom na! She doesn't know any better." and there's always the old generation gap argument. I don't know why so many of us feel we're better and cleverer than our parents atleast occasionally when we used to believe our parents were invincible beings once upon a time.
I really could feel that the man (oh yes, the author seems to be male here) was deeply disturbed by what he saw around him but then, I think there's that old reassuring story that my schoolteacher told my class years ago. When a young boy's parents started giving his grandparents wooden plates because their hands would tremble and they could have dropped the china plates, he told his parents he'd keep the same wooden plates for them to use a few years later. I think that's what we should be really embarrassed about - for forgetting we were once children and for not remembering that every moment that passes ensures we're growing older.
Loved the Kahaani article as well.
Thanks for sharing such an amazing read..
Obviously the kids in the examples mentioned haven't exactly grown old at the same pace as their parents, still act like kids!
Its strange that people are not only embarrassed by small mundane things their parents might do, but they're also wary of professing any love and affection for them! It angers me to see such strained relationships when there's potential for so much more. Hypothetical public opinion matters an obscene amount.
People spend hours on the phone discussing their friends' idiotic achievements of the day, but never ask their parents what it is that they have experienced over a lifetime. They have such marvelous stories to share!
Thankfully, I share a very healthy relationship with my parent. Someone had once asked me how i can be so open, candid & friendly with my mum. "She's your mum after all". I just said, "There's an acute shortage of mums in the world. Everyone's got just one. So why not share something great with her?"
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