Dear Mr. Tharoor

Recently, Shashi Tharoor has become a media favourite. The news channels, and consequently, our dear politicians, are just waiting to pounce on his latest statement, or even better, his latest tweet.

I feel a little sorry for him. I love reading his books and articles. I absolutely admire his knowledge. More than that, I admire his wit. A few years back, I had the honour of meeting him at some corporate event, where I had a dance performance. I remember talking to him and being completely awed by his personality. (And by the way, he quite handsome too! :P ) I wish I could meet him today and say this...

Dear Mr. Tharoor,

To begin with, let me tell you , I am a big fan of yours. But recently, I have read your name more in controversies rather than in any substantial news.

I daresay you have never given an HSC board English exam. I think that is the stem of all these problems. No, please don't misunderstand me. I am not trying to say you are illiterate. In fact, when you were elected, I was really happy; at least some of our politicians are well-educated. But you see, there are some things in India that just cannot be done otherwise. You just have to follow 'protocol', and the thousands of unwritten rules....
I feel confident in advising you in this matter because I have just given my HSC boards. I cannot tell you how frustrating it is. I clearly remember being told to simplify my English vocabulary if I expected to get acceptable marks.
To get an idea of what was expected, I took the opportunity of reading the paper of an 'ex-English topper'. The answers and the essays, all written in rather appalling English, did not exactly encourage me. Nonetheless, they provided for some excellent entertainment for me and my friends. This is just one example, but there are thousands of other instances which would suffice to make one understand, that excellent English is really not the way to get to the Indian heart (in this specific case, the Indian HSC examiner's heart).

I feel it is unnecessary to talk about the average IQ of Indian politicians. Barring a few, do you really think any of them will appreciate good political humour? Why political humour, how about just plain humour? How many politicians would appreciate a good joke? It is an unsaid rule that all politicians have to be serious and formal, and mostly go about their lives with a dour look on their faces. And you really thought you could make a joke and get away with it, eh?
Dear Mr. Tharoor, how could you forget your own article? I quote from "Indian Political Humour: Nothing to Laugh About" - "...and you will have to admit that, as far as political humour is concerned, our national cupboard is bare."
Let me add to it. The cupboard is not only bare but it has been chained and locked, and the key thrown away.

I hope you understand that this deadly combination of great English and quick wit is quite unlucky. Here, the right to freedom of speech exists but in theory. It is hardly ever put in practice. A politician has no right to voice his frank and personal opinion, while an HSC student like me has no right to pen a creative essay, fearing that the examiner will just not understand it. Nonetheless, I have not given up hope that people will learn to enjoy a good joke, whether it comes from a politician or anyone else. I have also not given up hope that someday, students will be able to use language creatively without the fear of getting low marks for not being dumb enough.

Thank you for listening to the ramblings of a frustrated HSC student, who is really looking for some lighter moments to ease the studies. And I also thank you for providing some of those through you writing.

Regards,
Vallarie


My dad once said to me, "For there to be intelligent political humour in India, you are forgetting that we need two essential things. One is intelligent politicians, and the second, intelligent politicians with a sense of humour." And God knows, we need to lighten up a bit. Mr. Shashi Tharoor does provide that, but I hope not at the cost of his political career. Because we really cannot afford to lose the few "intelligent politicians with a sense of humour" that we have.
I'm pretty sure that the day I get really good marks for my really creative essay, the parliament will be laughing heartily at a really good political joke. Ah, wishful thinking.... Well, let that day come, while I get back to my studying....

A new beginning

After months and months of ignoring my blog, I have decided to begin once again. Not immediately, after my exams I guess. But this time I have resolved to be a little regular with it.
Hopefully this beginning is not leading to a quick finish.

"To renewed blogging - Cheers!"

Spring, finally...

It started snowing at the end of November. The first time is always the most memorable. The beautiful landscape all around, completely transformed, from the mellow red, amber and yellow of fall, to a dazzling pure white of winter. Everywhere around you, as far as you can see, stretches a blanket of white fluffiness.
And then, the fun part - sledding, tubing, snowshoeing, skiing, the list just goes on. But the best part is sitting by a wood-stove with a cup of coffee and a good book, watching the snowflakes glide down outside the window. I never got tired of admiring the beauty of winter.
But by the end of four straight months of deep freeze, somewhere in the back of my mind, I missed 'green'. And not only me, but everyone around me. Everyone craves for something fresh. Hopeful eyes gaze up to tree-branches looking for new buds ready to pop out. Farmers and gardeners count down to the days when they can sow their seeds. Snow, ice and cold is no longer a novelty. To put it in very simple and non-poetic terms - 'one gets BORED of it'. The days are definitely longer, but still there is no sign of spring.
And even nature acts as if it is almost teasing us. There will be a week of tantalizingly warm days, and you're almost sure that all the snow will definitely melt now. But on the weekend, it will suddenly get overcast and bring five inches of snow. It is pure torture! But maybe even nature gets tired of it, and at last, ends the game.
The snow melts, as the days pass, it melts faster and faster. Patches of brown grass and dirt start appearing. Frozen streams and brooks open up and start gushing. Birds start chirping everywhere. But nothing quite makes your day as this - the sight of the first flower of spring. A tiny little flower on the edge of a little patch of dry grass. Soon enough, there'll be lots more blooming, but for now, just one is enough. It is the surest sign that spring if finally, and definitely, here!
It's a miracle what a tiny thing like a flower can do for your mood!

For the love of mountains....

A few years ago, I went on my first big trek. I went to the Himalayas. It was a great and amazing experience. At that time, I was in seventh grade. And though everything about trekking was new for me, everything awed me, I seemed to me that I fit right in. That was one thing that made me really happy!
Also, I think that trek was one thing that inspired me to take up photography. And though this was a few years ago, I am amazed at how many details I can accurately remember. Although I still blame myself for not taking more photos, I managed to recollect most of it without them. This is a short essay that I wrote about it.

A Trip to Paradise

As I stepped out of the room, the cool morning wind sent a slight shiver down my neck. The air was crisp and clear and the surroundings were breathtaking. I almost forgot where I was, but the clank of utensils being packed and the rustle of the backpack on my shoulder brought everything back. I was trekking in the Himalayas!
We started out with great enthusiasm. No words can fully describe the beauty of the surroundings. The landscape was like a jeweled painting. The jade of the pine trees, the sapphire of the sky and the crystals of the distant icy peaks completed this work of art. The constant gushing of the river besides us was like a soothing song, and the sunshine bouncing of the ripples speckled the water with gold and silver. Little streams peeked out of ferns and scrambled over pebbles on their way to join the river. Birds chirped and butterflies flitted in and out of bushes.
But the fresh morning was nothing compared to the silent beauty of the night. As the sun went down, it was a different world altogether. There were no sounds to be heard except the constant gushing of the river. The sky above us was a deep blue velvety blanket with millions of diamonds strewn across. The great icy peaks in the distance glittered in the pale moonlight. Mountains rose in a circle all around us. The air was soft and chilly, fragrant with numerous flowers and herbs. I can still see the whole scene in my mind.
The days on the trek were some of the most memorable ones for me. I still remember every moment as if it happened yesterday. The cool wind on my cheek, the first touch of snow, the warmth of the glass of 'chai' in my hands and the laughter and songs around the campfire at night. These memories shall stay with me forever and remind me of my experience. They also remind me of the Mughal emperor, who was so moved by the beauty of nature, that he proclaimed,
"yA firdaus barrUhe jamInAst,
amInAsto amInAsto amInAst!"
"If there be a paradise on earth,
It is here, it is here, it is here!"
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So that was my experience, I don't know how much i was able to express through my writing, but I tried!

After that, I did not really get a chance to go on any big treks. But now, I am here in New Hampshire, USA, and I am going for a winter trip in the White mountains. This is bound to be one of the many memorable events that i have been in, while on this exchange program. Let's see what that will inspire me to do!

Initial thoughts on blogging.

Usually, I am not huge on techy and geeky stuff. I manage to survive on the meagre basics of gmail,wikipedia and youtube. Starting my blog just seemed to me like crossing over to the dark side....!
But seeing my absolute non-tech parents experiment with technology and my dad even set up his own blog has given me an inferiority complex! (just kidding aai, baba.)
I mean c'mon, I am the one who's sixteen, I am the one who grew up in the internet age, I am the one who knew how to send an email before I knew how to post a letter! And so, not wanting to be a serious insult to my generation :) I have started this blog.....
I can already tell you that this is going to be filled with random thoughts, experiences, opinions, and just sometimes, a good piece of writing!

So here's to my taking the first step in the blogworld - "Cheers!!!"