Detachment, desprendimento, desapego...

Ontem percebi que posso viver em qualquer lugar do mundo onde sinta um proposito e algum bem-estar. Nao pertenco nem aqui nem ali e tal nao me incomoda, pelo contrario deixa em mim uma satisfacao leve e funda. Nao pertenco a lugares. Pertenco a mim, aos valores em que me construo e aos ideais que me propelam. Portugal faz parte de mim, no que de seu resta em mim, mas deixei de pertencer a este espaco, ajusto-me e gosto. India apoderou-se de mim sem aviso, onde crava sulcos indeleveis. Valas onde correram aguas tempestuosas e finos fios de de prata. India consumou a transformacao inevitavel e ofereceu-me um tempo de descoberta e de vitoria. Na India ressuscitei ou renasci ou apenas nao morri.
Observo-me a mudar. Desapego-me dos lugares, desprendo-me de mim. Eu sou aquela, alem, a sobrevivente, que pondera novas escolhas, novos objectivos. A vida chegou, finalmente.

Yesterday I realized that i can live anywhere in the world where i feel a purpose and im confortable with. I don't belong here nor there and that doesnt bother me, on the contrary it leaves me a light and deep satisfaction. I dont belong to places. I belong to myself, to the values im built of and to the ideals that keep me on the move. Portugal is part of me, in what of it remains inside me, but i dont belong to this space anymore. I adjust and i like that adjustment. India has taken possession of me and has digged deep channels, where stormy waters and shinny streams have flowed.
(...)

Gostava de dizer nao sei quando estou confundida. E ficar por ai.

Nada me seduz mais do que a surpresa de mim mesma. Equacionada a questão, descoberto o ponto chave, desconhecida a solução deveria dizer não sei, e ficar por aí.
Nao fico. Gera-se um fascínio, uma espiral de possibilidades. Melhor que nao saber é ir à procura.

Lugares de passagem. Ou serão de partida?

Gosto de aeroportos, estações de comboio, paragens de autocarro. Onde gente chega e parte sem cessar. Lugares de passagem. Onde quem parte espera, onde quem chega é esperado. Houve tempos, em Lisboa, onde depois de 6 meses sem voar olhava os céus e pensava: está na minha hora; que saudades de partir. Lugares de passagem encerram em si uma simbologia de iniciação. Não chego a tanto. Só sei partir, mudar de lugar. Escrever faz-me gostar de esperar. Olhar, e registar de imediato o que vejo, altera o tempo, muda a velocidade dos ponteiros do relógio.
À minha frente, com os pés em cima das malas um homem lê um livro de páginas amarelas e capa mole. À sua esquerda sentou-se um casal alemão. Ele careca, mais velho do que ela. Ela magra, sem ancas, enfiada numas calças de ganga que lhe deixam o rabo quadrado. Chegam sem palavras, sentam-se em silêncio, trocam palavras ríspidas e secas. De novo o silêncio.
Somos três, os que teclamos em computadores portáteis. Um indiano com os dedos cravejados de anéis de várias pedras - cada um para seu chackra e vários para o sucesso e dinheiro - não pára de falar ao telemóvel. Entre mim e o senhor do livro de páginas amareladas acaba de se sentar outro firangi (estrangeiro em hindi). Cabeça rapada, camisa branca, calças de ganga, casaco beje, anel de brazão. Óculos de massa pretos e touchphone, no qual os dedos grossos tocam sem cessar. Por baixo das mangas do casaco, até aos pulsos e sabe-se lá desde onde, uma enorme e escura tatuagem parece combinar com o azul do denim.
Está tudo calmo, silencioso e limpo. O lugar é novo, amplo e minimal. Não há duvidas que a estética, a arquitectura e o design podem mudar comportamentos e mentalidades.
Bangalore, 2009

My first comments to Sanjay's post on corruption and democracy

"Impressive. Very well written.

Just 2 comments:
1. No matter what level of economic development a country achieves it will never be 100% clean, eg. France/Mitterrand n so many more examples of "1st" countries that I don't remember now. Of course countries are and can be cleaner.
2. Regarding doing "small things like telling our children what is right, that there is merit in honesty, that the country matters, that ethics matter." Please don't only tell, please DO. TRUE EXAMPLE COMES FROM ACTION. Show them that can be done, that it is possible.

I've met in my life very few people who were not corrupt in spite of being in posts where they could have earned lots of money. They have chosen to live simple lives and they and their family "suffered" with their decision. Knowing that it is possible, that are people who are able to say no, seeing people saying no, makes all the difference.

Thx Sanjay"

Corruption and Democracy in India and elsewhere

The text that follows was written by a friend, an Indian civil servant. For those you are closer to India his thoughts will be easier to understand, but all who think about politics, democracy and corruption will be, for sure, able to relate with what he wrote. It starts off as a reaction to a video campaign against corruption that was launched in India but goes deeper and wider. Hope you like it as i did.

"While I liked the brilliance of the message conveyed by the ad by Alok Mittal, I wonder what the "target audience" would be? It will be seen by the masses and the masses would nod and agree. We will spit on the politicians and call them snakes or dung, as we like. But alas! It will not be seen by the ones who are going to select party candidates for elections. Even if they see this film, they won't get influenced.

To think of it, apart from appreciating this great ad at an intellectual / artistic level, how many of us would be giving the whole question a serious thought and try to find out the root cause of the whole problem? Even if we do, how many will be willing to do anything? Because it would require sacrifices - giving up jobs, education - even normal family life. At least I won't be willing to pay that cost. And I don't know any friend who will be, or whose family would allow that.

The reason why this or any such ads won't change the way candidature is decided?

Because a "politician" in any democracy doesn't drop from an alien star. He or she is always from amongst us and represents the true median value of the constituency. No matter how distasteful that thought, it is the truth.

When any "high command" sits to discuss the list of possible candidates for any seat, they have dozens of lobbies influencing them. These lobbies consist of influential people from the constituency under consideration. These are "grass-root" level influencers - the guys who connect with the common man / woman, take out processions, campaign, talk to people, fund campaigns, create ads, slogans, logos, banners - threaten, cajole, brain-wash, entice, convince the masses. They are the real mouthpieces of the "aam adami" who cannot be ignored.

In a Brahmin dominated constituency, no one will give ticket to a non-Brahmin educationist / saint / social worker. Because they know the janta would rather vote for a Brahmin criminal than a dalit saint. Reason? The majority vote bank would have several "holds" on a Brahmin than they would on a dalit. The candidate would be someone's son, nephew, brother, cousin, relative, friend ... The dalit would be an outsider. The same is true of religious, ethnic, social faultiness. After getting him elected, it would be far easier to get "work" out of someone from ones own community/social strata / religion / group than from someone from another.

In elite South Mumbai constituency, the voters from Pedder Road or Malabar Hill wouldn't want a "slumdog" to represent them. They would want a suave, "cultured", seemingly smart person. They would prefer sons of ministers, actors, etc. even if there are criminal charges against those candidates. In Dharavi, they won't want a builder from Nariman Point. From Shivaji Park or Dadar they won't want a Bihari and in Patna they won't want a Marathi Manush. That's the way it is.

Yet, a Kashmiri Brahmin (Indira Gandhi) had won a resounding victory in Chikamagalur, Karnataka while a Manglorean (George Fernandes) has long been representing Muzaffarpur in Bihar. Because the locals accepted them.

No high command can ignore the majority stakeholders' interests / inclinations / preferences. Wherever they do - their candidate loses. Not because of ancient things like "booth capturing" or "bogus votes" (these things don't happen now, except in rarest of rare circumstances - thanks to the might of ECI) but because of people's resounding mandate against the "wrong" choice in giving tickets.

Then again comes the question of who is a "criminal"? It is said one man's terrorist is another man's hero. If we look at the North East, so many of their leaders had been "militants" in their youth. They had charges of murder, arson, loot on them. In Jharkhand - several tribal leaders who fought the "system" and non-tribals to create the state have criminal charges against them. But didn't Shahid Bhagat Singh hang for "treason"? Is every Naxal a "criminal"? When we take away someone’s livelihood, self-respect, home and he takes to violence, he becomes a criminal. But aren't we also equal criminals?

Then we have candidates who have amassed disproportionate assets. Maybe we consider them worse kind of criminals - thieves who steal from the nation. But if you ask any economic investigative agency in India, there are hundreds and thousands of normal people - doctors, educationists, businessmen, journalists, lawyers, painters, movie stars ... who have all been caught trying to evade taxes, cheating not a few people but the entire nation. Do we boycott a film star who has been raided? Or a doctor who has been penalised for wilful evasion? Or stop buying a product of a company which has broken laws?

No.

Just as every software entrepreneur is not Raju, every Army officer is not Lt. Col Shrikant Purohit (Malegaon case), every broker is not Harshad Mehta, every cricket player is not into match fixing, every businessman is not Moninder Pandher (Nithari serial murders), so also every politician is not evil. Because a politician is not a different specie.

We tend to project our internal flaws, distortions and lump it on politicians because it is so much more convenient for our own conscience. How many of us can claim NEVER to have violated any law / statute, used influence, contacts, done "PR", taken favours or given favours, got carried away by self interest, been greedy or covetous, secretly lusted after someone, or given "bribes"? And we all know that by the Indian "law" giving and taking bribe are both "crimes". But how easily we hide behind the phrase, "But what else could I do? If I didn't pay the bribe, my work wouldn't have been done - I would have faced so much hardship." True.

It is the same reasoning businessmen would give for "funding" political parties. "Otherwise our business would have suffered." - Read it as "Otherwise we wouldn't be able to make as much money from our businesses."

That is why Gandhi said only the true brave can insist on truth or on non-violence. Only those who were capable and willing of taking a personal hit - of making great sacrifices. How many of us are thus?

Christ said, "Let him who is without sin, throw the first stone" and silenced a crazed crowd.

So, if we care for this great democracy of India - our motherland - we must look inside our own souls and throw out our worms. The "system" would get cleaned itself. The "system" is nothing but the sum total of individuals.

But a poor man will first worry about his food and shelter - only after that would he worry about hygiene. Similarly, till India reaches a certain level of economic development, our mass ethics will never be clean and consequently our mass based politicians - our "representatives" - will never be clean. Non mass based politicians like Manmohan Singh are already clean.

We can all do small things like telling our children what is right, that there is merit in honesty, that the country matters, that ethics matter. We can confess to the "wrongs" we have done and warn our children against it. We can start with avoiding small temptations to do small wrongs. Only this will eventually bring a change.

No its not a glamorous way of bringing change nor a quick one. But eventually only that will succeed.

I am reminded of Barak Obama's speech: ""Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change we seek."

The question each one of us should ask ourselves is, "Am I the leader my country should follow?" In my case, my soul answers, "NO!" And most people consider me a "decent" fellow. The problem is there are thousands of people who, when they ask this question get the answer from within: "YES! YOU ARE THE PERFECT LEADER FOR INDIA." And most of them are not half as "decent" as me.

But they are the ones who step out on the crease and bat for you and me. While I - and countless other armchair idealists like me - are happy to sit in the stands and clap or boo as the occasion demands.

Just as the Buddha wasn't the last great leader in India, or Ashoka, or Akbar, or Gandhi, so also I am sure there will be another one.

I remain hopeful, like Iqbal who wrote the immortal lines:

Unaan-o-Misr-o-Roma Sab Mit Gaye Jahaan Se
Ab Tak Magar Hai Baaqi Naam-o-Nishaan Hamaara

Kuchh Baat Hai Ke Hasti Mit-ti Nahin Hamaari
Sadion Raha Hai Dushman Daur-e-Zamaan Hamaara

[ Greece, Egypt And Rome Have Vanished Out Of Sight
But Our Name Lives On In Spite Of Time And Tide

Something Must Be There To Keep Our Name Alive
Though The World For Centuries Has Been To Us Hostile]

Please get your Election id card and vote. That is the most powerful weapon we have.

Jai Hind (and not Jai Ho).

Cheers!"

Se voltasse aos bancos da escola estudava as redes sociais virtuais e o Facebook em particular

So pertenco a duas comunidades virtuais: Facebook e Linkedin. Uma por puro acaso. Outra por razoes profissionais.
Foi num comboio indiano de Patankot ate Delhi que comecou a minha viagem facebookiana. Com uma mulher com quem dividi a noite entre a sua primeira classe AC e a minha carruagem barata e superlotada, onde eu era a unica passageira feminina. Neelyma e jornalista, foi modelo e actriz de series televisivas na India. Vive agora na Australia. Passei aquela noite a fugir ao revisor que simpaticamente me deixou jantar em primeira, mas que me obrigou a dormir rodeada de homens por todos os lados, chao incluido. Cada vez que abandonava a minha carruagem alguem tomava o meu lugar. Mudei de cama tres vezes nessa noite. Foi Neelyma que me convidou mais tarde a entrar no Facebook.
O ingresso no Linkedin nao tem historia, nem memoria.
Recuso tudo o resto: orkut, plaxo, twitter e sei la mais o que. Nao tenho disponibilidade mental, nem emocional para mais. Reconheco que tenho pouca memoria RAM, que desinstalo facilmente o que me deixa de fazer falta e que possuo um mecanismo semelhante ao Unused desktop shurtcuts do Windows. Isto de me sentir parecida com os computadores deixa-me contente: menos lamechas e mais logico-racional. Cada um faz o que pode para se sentir melhor.
Adoro o Facebook tanto como a minha cerveja diaria. Esta muito bem desenhado. E obvio o esforco e as mentes brilhantes que lhe dao vida. Adoro cada mudanca, cada novidade. Tem o seu que de viciante, mas ate nisso joga a meu favor. Gosto de manter os vicios "under control". Sempre no fio da navalha.
E muito interessante observar os movimentos sociais que o Facebook produz entre os seus membros. Os grupos que se criam, as queixas que se geram. Privacidade e mudanca sao temas recorrentes.
E tambem curioso examinar o que sai das pessoas. O que revelam, o que escondem. Os fenomenos facebookianos encherao seguramente alguns tomos sociologicos e psicologicos.
As similitudes entre o real e o virtual e o que mais me fascina. Muito mais do que as diferencas e os temores de alguns.
Observo e actuo. Participo e distancio-me. Gosto dos dois papeis. Pendular como sempre. Lanco foguetes e brilho no ceu. Mergulho fundo a procura de seres marinhos abissais: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uDYM1ZfTojY
Gosto de contemplar padroes de comportamento, grupos e individuos, gostos e desgostos.

Monotonia

E sempre o mesmo que redemoinha na minha cabeca.
Ha anos que o que amo e me agrada, que o que me incomoda e desgosta, que o que me entristece e diverte nao param de me (re)visitar. Vindos daquele lugar longe e escuro que carrego ha tantas vidas. Talvez um dia vejam a luz, montados num comboio de letras, as costas de vidas que nao a minha. Aqui tudo se locomove a vapor e as carruagens aguardam. Os passageiros sao ainda escassos.

Escrever

Pensamentos que se esfumam
Se nao os prendo ao papel ou ao ecran.
Minutos breves de mim
Que ninguem guarda.
Nem eu.

Perda

Nao ha dor como a da perda. Perda do que foi nosso. Perda do que tanto queriamos e nunca tivemos.
A perda e sempre do Amor.
Doi o amor que nao se teve no ventre da mae. Doi o carinho, o abraco, o beijo que se suplicou em silencio quando o mundo era ainda grande e nos rumamos contra tudo e contra todos.
Doi a morte do pai, da mae, do protector, do esposo, do filho, do amigo de sempre.
Doi a distancia que impede o Amor.
Doi o fim do amor que foi nosso.
Doi a ausencia do amor que mereciamos.
A perda e uma cova funda que nao se enche se nao de Amor.

Acaso

Cheguei a pagina 53 ha alguns meses atras. De Goa ao Kerala o livro “Como o acaso comanda as nossas vidas”, de Stefan Klein, ja habitou varias das minhas mesas de cabeceira. Estava em quarto lugar, na segunda pilha. Passou hoje para primeiro na primeira. Vou devora-lo agora. Tenho de aprender rapidamente a “tirar o melhor partido da mais aleatoria das forcas que nos regem”: o acaso. Assim tenha razao a contracapa.

Ha quem se conheca por causa de uma palavra. Ha ate quem se case por causa de uma palavra. Nesta historia, os culpados sao uma palavra redonda e oportunista e um incidente risivel. Disparada a roleta nao ha como recusar entrar no jogo.

Do nada aos segredos foi um pulo. E num flash, do hoje distante se viajou ate ao passado proximo.

Do nada cheio de cada um ate a teia apertada dos outros foi um passo. Num tempo de poucas linhas, o silencio injustificado fez todo o sentido.