Neighbours don’t like screaming…

OR, The natal connection
OR, How men and women are really different
Currently the TV speakers are blaring with horses neighing, Boers dying, many 303s going off together and commands being fired on all sides. Strangely, for a war movie there are hardly any screams. This movie was made in the late 70s and the glorification of war (or ‘gorification’?) that we see in Saving Private Ryan – young soldiers crying while holding their unraveling guts in their hands – had still not happened. The movie is Breaker Morant and I've refused to watch it. (pic courtesy)

I am not averse to war movies, just that I need to school myself to be prepared to be depressed for the rest of the evening. And if the movie really gets me, depressed for the next day as well. Young boys. Dead. Fathers with little babies. Dead. Husbands with fresh, eager wives. Dead. Old parents and their only son. Dead. Or even if there are two sons or seven. Dead. Shit. I also know that if there was a ever way and voluntary or forced conscription, both Partner and my brother will join in. And die. For who? Narendra Modi? LK Advani?

What will happen if we have a World War 3 tomorrow? What if Narendra Modi becomes the Prime minister of India? Will we finally nuke Pakistan? Or will he go for China first to prove he has bigger balls? Or would it be better for India if Mayawati becomes the PM instead? And HOW can I give up my citizenship if either becomes the “leader” of India? Partner asked me last evening, that if it ever came to Modi vs Mayawati, who would I rather have as the PM? I chose Modi. Not going to get into the reasons here… But honestly, for once in my lifetime I want to vote. Just that I STILL don’t know who to vote for. Partner on the other hand, has pretty clear ideas about who he supports and who he’d vote for

And that’s how men and women are different. I wanted to pick up Happy Feet to watch today: it’s an animated movie on penguins. Dancing penguins. We forgot because I was protesting (and arguing) NOT going to the dentist. My teeth have been just fine for 29 years and I don’t see ANY reason – unless I wake up with one side of my face paralysed with pain – which has happened only once in 2002, and never after that. My BIGGEST fear of going to a dentist? That the fuck will pull out my teeth, use a drill on me and ask me to STOP smoking. Sigh. But of course I will have to go. You cannot beat a man’s logic. Men ALWAYS use logic and sometimes it is very irritating. I have postponed the appointment for at least a week quoting house-shifting. I have more reasons ready for subsequent weeks.

Men are also very good at handling pressure, particularly parental pressure. They usually hang up the phone, start watching movies or sport or read the news. Women, on the other hand, they stew. No matter how many times the same things happens. Like when parents unwittingly – and I am sure not intentionally – press on the wrong buttons. When their ‘protectiveness’ only serves in denting holes – big, cannon-ball sized ones – in the defensive armour we might have around us.

‘Generation gap’ was a phrase that was thrown around a lot in the Indian scenario when I was about 13 – that was in 1993 – when parents and children didn’t see eye-to-eye on various things. From inter-caste marriages (now of course rich parents get the offending party bumped off), to watching cable TV, to not wanting to become a doctor/engineer, to wanting to follow the Arts, to brain-drain… The ‘gap’ between what the children wanted and what the parents thought was right.

While to the credit of the parents, there is an entire generation of them who are constantly battling with daughters working late, their children living in ‘sin’, divorces, drug addict sons and without-wedding pregnant daughters… Some basic things have not changed. And perhaps will not. Like the NEED to control. Or at least to impose their will and thoughts on the children. And when neither the control nor the will can be imposed… There is psychological warfare.

Like holding back words of encouragement. Or playing up on fears. Or saying JUST the thing that will shake your confidence. Like asking, “Are you sure the man is in love with you? What’s so special about you that he will stick around?” Well Ma, perhaps because I am tough. Or perhaps the most beautiful woman in the world. Or ‘snarky’ as one lady called me on her blog (What is ‘snarky? Anyone?) Maybe because I bake good cakes and can cook for 20 people in two hours. Maybe because I cannot sing. Maybe because I will never back out from a fight. Maybe because I can STAY loyal to my people, my man. Maybe… Who the fuck knows? What I DO know is that I don’t NEED to be thinking like this. That I don’t need to justify my being loved or my existence. That I don’t want to be scared about the Outcome or The Future any longer. Even if it might mean being foolhardy. And then WHO says am being foolhardy? And then, “I am saying this so that you think straight. Parents want the best for you.”

And perhaps they do. Just that their ways can be funny sometimes. Not because they hate their own children, but perhaps because somewhere they are scared. From deciding everything for your children, the kids become adults and make their own decisions. It makes parents redundant in certain ways. And if the parent has been used to control, it makes things even tougher. So perhaps they still want you to think ‘right’ or what they think is right. Shrug.

Everyone makes their own mistakes. Sometimes, when warned, perhaps we don’t make that mistake or delay making it. However, parents made their mistakes too. So do we listen when they warn us or blaze ahead? And how can anyone be sure that what is being suggested or the opinion/advice being offered is not a wrong one? Do you believe your heart or do you believe your parents?

PS: About the neighbours: I thought the landlord had asked us to leave because Golu Dawg barked a lot. Apparently, it’s not just that. The two old crones who live a floor below didn’t seem to like my rosy glow. I am also loud so perhaps their sleep was disturbed with my screaming. And early mornings too. Bwahaha. GOOD show I say. I will go, but I will fucking go screaming. Yeeeeehaaaa.