Finding Nemo

I am appalled at the recent incidents in Bangalore and New Delhi – where the mob took a new meaning for celebration and enjoyment. I am at a loss of words for the direction we are all headed. It has been apathy of the women or the females to be at the receiving end when the male tries to show his superiority. I heard something similar or even more derogatory sometime earlier – “ What happened to us ”. Interestingly I had been pondering over this situation since late December 2016 when I read Amrita Pritam’s Pinjar. I happened to watch Chandraprakash Dwivedi’s movie Pinjar as well. The transformation from Puro to Hamida was enough for me to understand the cruelties that the females withered for the alpha male. However, what we easily forgot was the transformation of the same Hamida into a tigress when another girl – “Lajo” was kidnapped in similar circumstances. Hamida or Puro made sure that Lajo does not goes through the same scenarios like her. Even when Puro chooses to lead her

In my previous article - " Vyasa's agony ", we saw that even at the end of a great epic, a great composition, the composer himself is not happy and is frustrated. Why is this happening? We saw a few arguments in my last post. Let's try to probe further. Think, when you take up a daunting task or any challenge. And then you work hard and take the efforts to the completion of the task. How do you feel? Satisfied? Happy to have completed the challenge? But in the case of Mahabharata, Vyasa is neither happy nor satisfied. A composer, having composed a great verse is still not satisfied - and has something more to tell? What could it be? The answer lies in the name of the composition itself - "Jaya". The composition was cleverly named as Jaya or the victory, without signifying over what or over whom. Almost every story within the great epic, depicts the clash of ideologies within the minds of the characters. Shouldn't it be safe to assume, t