Pottermania [en]

My stepmother complains that she got the Harry Potter virus from me: I gave her the first book for Christmas, and she has now ploughed through the whole series – twice.

Unfortunately, it seems that she is not the only victim of the teenage wizard. I highly suspect they curse the books in the shops to force you to swallow them down straight in one go.

[link courtesy of the Incomparably Leaky Cauldron]

Books [en]

Books won’t die, I tell you. Because you can read your book in the loo, can’t you?

If people love paper, there must be a reason for it. And there is. It is highly portable (you can even read it on the loo), infinitely flexible (when was the last time you were able to scribble on an electronic document?) and embodies very high-resolution display technology, which consumes no battery power. And it doesn’t have to be booted up before you can read it.

John Naughton in The Observer, Nov. 25 2001 column

Cold [en]

In India, I have often been asked how we survive the cold in winter. Having cold winters is the norm for us over here, and that makes it hard to find the words to explain it.

The answer I usually give amounts to “well, we heat our houses, have windows and doors that don’t let the cold in (well, not too much of it), and have coats and boots which protect us from the cold when we go outside.

Having just come home from the cinema on a chilly night, I can tell you the statement above is a little idealistic. Here is what a cold winter in Switzerland is like.

First of all, sitting at my computer I can feel cold air around my hands when I type. It gets outright chilly when I reach for the mouse on my right, nearer to the window. Yes, I have double-glazing. No, the building isn’t very old – thirty years or so. Yes, the windows could do with some sticky foam around them to keep the draught out. Or I could at least fit curtains on my windows. Or pull the blinds down everywhere as soon as it gets dark enough.

But apart from that, I’m just normally dressed inside: trousers and a blouse or pullover. I tend to snuggle up in blankets more often than in summer, though.

Outside is a different story. People don’t stay outside unless they have to. If they do plan to stay outside (for work, walking, or any other good reason), they’ll make sure to put a few layers on, warm shoes and a serious coat. If they are skiing that’s another matter – we have ski-gear for the occasion.

But if you’re just going to work, you don’t want to turn up there with three pullovers or your ski-gear. It’s warm inside. It’s warm in busses and trains. It’s warm in cars too, if the trip is long enough for them to heat up (which isn’t the case with the 10 minutes or so it takes me to get to work or university).

So either you pile on layers for the journey, run the risk of finding yourself caught in a warm place and sweating, and having to peel everything off on arrival – or you just dress for work, put a big coat on and walk quickly.

That’s what I do, of course. Shiver my way to the car. Turn motor on, start driving (with gloves, the steering-wheel slips in cold hands). Wait for the temperature in the car to become bearable (a human body in a small closed space does heat it up a bit – especially when the motor is running), get out of the car, and shiver off from the car to the destination.

Repeat for return journey.

The point being: if the aim of your expedition is not to stay outside, you’re bound to be pretty cold outside. Shivers, nasty draughts where the coat lets them in, numb fingers, runny nose…

If I have a choice, I’d rather be too warm than too cold. That being said after having lived one year in a tropical country where I was too warm.

Oh yes, I almost forgot. As we heat our houses, we need our fridges the whole year around.

Books, Cinema [en]

My user page on SpiroLattic now contains a list of recent films I have seen, as well as another of books I have read and appreciated.

Apart from that, all is well. No news is good news.

Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noël!

Paris… [en]

…Il faudra repasser.

Pour apprivoiser une ville, j’aime flâner dans ses rues, me poser dans ses cafés, manger dans ses bistrots et baver devant les vitrines de ses magasins. Activités qui sont loin d’être compatibles avec mon état actuel.

Enfer et frustration, comme dirait quelqu’un de ma connaissance.

Prague [en]

J’ai ramené de Prague trois rouleaux de film et un rhume, mais aussi d’autres choses plus intérieures et invisibles au premier abord.

  • Ma vie en Inde a chamboulé mon cadre de référence. Prague ne m’a pas paru délabrée. L’hôtel m’a semblé luxueux. Les prix m’ont paru chers.
  • Dans un restaurant, il reste une table à  trois places. Nous sommes quatre. Je commence poliment à  demander au couple qui occupe une table à  quatre places si cela ne les dérange pas de changer de table afin que l’on puisse manger là , quand la serveuse se met à  me parler en Tchèque, l’air furieuse, avant de repartir derrière son bar, en me jetant des regards noirs.
    En Tchéquie, il est visiblement d’un impolitesse inexcusable de demander à  d’autres clients de changer de table. Magnifique expérience de cultural clash, en pleine figure s’il-vous-plaît. Vous êtes prévenus.
  • Les élèves ont tous des téléphones mobiles, qu’ils utilisent durant tout le séjour. Les parents ont de l’argent – je doute que ce soient les “chers petits” qui paient les communications, au prix où est le roaming international.
  • Pour une raison étrange, j’ai trouvé le marché très déprimant. Il y avait quelque chose de très triste à  voir ces gens acheter leurs légumes. Ne me demandez pas quoi, je m’en étonne encore.
  • L’architecture communiste n’est pas exactement conforme à  nos standards esthétiques…

Hindi Music [en]

I was lucky enough to make it into a movie theatre once during my six weeks in India. I went to see Dil Chahta Hai, and I’ve been listening to the music for the last two or three days. My favorites:

The others are good too, of course. But one has to start somewhere… Happy listening!

Words [en]

Here are some more extracts from Bitter Chocolate.

*

‘What can it be called,’ she [Vidya Apte of Terre des Hommes] asks, ‘when they marry off young girls, except Child Sexual Abuse?’ A socially sanctioned environment which crushes the girl-child as she grows: that mother hood can be her only mission, that she therefore has to be ‘married off’ at the soonest possible legal age even if she is not mentally or emotionally ready for it. What kind of mother can such a child herself make? Most research clearly states that men do not have an in-built ‘father touch’, they have to actively work on it if they genuinely want to be decent fathers. Young men—nor older ones, for that matter—are not expected to be fathers in the complete sense anyway. But young mothers are expected to ‘mother’ from the time they are born. Most research also proves that ‘natural motherhood’ is a myth, there is no such thing as ‘mother pangs’, except for social pressure. A woman feels ‘motherly’ only from the third or fourth month of her pregnancy and this is a primal feel which continues for the infant’s food and physical protection. There is no other in-built manual on child-rearing in a young mother who is otherwise bewildered, exhausted and very alone. What kind of ‘complete’ mother can she make to another child?

*

‘From childhood women are geing primed to expect too much from marriage and motherhood and too little from anything else,’ says Prasanne Invally of Susamvaad which is developing ‘marriage workshops’ in Marathi. ‘Boy children are primed to expect everything from their wives in the marriage, and not give too much if anything at all.’ The workshops Susamvaad has conducted till now reveal young couples—about to get married—coming in with ‘they lived happily ever after’ dreams because the partner is being expected to heavily ‘adjust’.

*

Explains Dr Shalini Bharat of the Family Studies unit of the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, ‘We have a sacrosanct view of the family in our country, even if it teems with strains within. In such a structure human rights are not regarded as rights in the individual sense. There is a “we”, but if you hear an “I” the reaction is knee-jerk even if there is only negativity in this “we-ness”. Everyone is supposed to subsume their own individuality in a family, specially the women and definitely the children. Those who want to be an “I”, as is the wont of the young males, have to do it outside their family structure and home. This leads to our famous Indian characteristic: the duality-and-denial syndrome. Ghar mein kuch, bahar kuch; like being “vegetarian at home”. In such an environment it would be well-nigh impossible to get a family to admit that there is a horror like Child Sexual Abuse happening within the four walls of any house no matter how educated or rich or perhaps more so because the social image of the family has to be guarded. If we acknowledge Child Sexual Abuse in our middle and upper-class homes, we would have to look for reasons for this abuse within. We would then have to admit that these reasons are not as terribly complex as we would like to think. And we cannot have our families being seen as anything less than part of a great and ancient culture, can we now?’

*

[…]First there will have to be acceptance of the very existance of Child Sexual Abuse in all classes of Indian homes. And this acceptance is likely to take a very long time to come because if there is such an acceptance, it would affirm that there are a lot of adults abusing children. And then this would start to say something about Indian society. And its false facade of happy families. And the men in these families. And the kind of women who live with these men.

*

The world over fathers who have been sexually abused when they were little boys tend to sexually abuse children, their own and others, as adults.

Mothers subconsciously try very hard not to sexually abuse children, their own or others, even if they have been sexually abused when they were little girls. Instead women, specially mothers, take it out on themselves. They also physically abuse the child with slaps and other forms of beatings. They emotionally neglect them by mentally ‘blanking out’ their children from time-to-time; this space which the mother puts between her and her offspring is seen by psychiatrists as a desire on the part of the mother not to hurt her children the way she was hurt by her elders.

*

Well, has there ever been a time when fathers, along with their wives, have not impressed upon their sons, almost conditioned them into thinking, that they—the male—possess that magnificent trump card: the power of choice? Mothers tell their daughters only this: the male will come and choose from a sea of simpering young girls like you; on a white charger he will come and whisk you off your feet, please perfect the art of simpering till he arrives.

The male and his magnificent trump card: that power of choice. So now, before he ‘settles down’, and even during and after, he also chooses little boys. But will this be enough proof for the parents of young males that they need to explain to their sons that they need to behave with other mothers’ daughters, and other people’s sons too? If those parents had done this before, maybe the statistics would not be as bad as they are today? And now that the world is turning on its head, or so it may seem to the parents of only sons, with older—and much elder—men actively seeking little boys, what should the mothers and daughters feel?

*

Prema is now a child-prostitute in Calcutta’s Sonagaachi. She is not plump anymore, she has several sexual diseases including Aids. She says she never complained against her inspector-father at the police station because she knew they would suspend him and then what would her stepbrother, stepsister and stepmother eat?