Anindita Sengupta

Margaret Atwood, I mean. Her latest book is due this month and as usual, she has her finger unflinchingly on the pulse. This one’s called Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth and it talks about the phenomenon of borrowing and owing as a cultural issue. She weaves in Faustus, Scrooge and Eric Berne to link the US economic crisis with primal human urges to get right now and pay later. She also looks at how Faustus is a generous guy, why we love the reformed Scrooge (“because, true to the laws of wish-fulfilment, which always involve a free lunch or a get-out-of-jail card, he embodies both sides of the equation”) and why we choose to go into debt — as a life script, or even as a ‘fix’.

From the Livemint extract:

In our minds — as reflected in our language — debt is a mental or spiritual non-place, like the Hell described by Christopher Marlowe’s Mephistopheles when Faust asks him why he’s not in Hell but right there in the same room as Faust. “Why, this is Hell, nor am I out of it,” says Mephistopheles. He carries Hell around with him like a private climate: He’s in it and it’s in him. Substitute “debt” and you can see that, in the way we talk about it, debt is the same kind of placeless place. “Why, this is Debt, nor am I out of it,” the beleaguered debtor might similarly declaim.

Which makes the whole idea of debt — especially massive and hopeless debt — sound brave and noble and interesting rather than merely squalid, and gives it a larger-than-life tragic air. Could it be that some people get into debt because, like speeding on a motorbike, it adds an adrenalin hit to their otherwise humdrum lives?

When the bailiffs are knocking at the door and the lights go off because you didn’t pay the water bill and the bank’s threatening to foreclose, at least you can’t complain of ennui.

It’s interesting that the passage from Dr Faustus always made me think of ‘guilt’ as akin to Hell. And debt and guilt are very closely linked, aren’t they?

What’s she also saying here is that debt is, in its own way, exciting. It gives us ’something to think about’. And it’s probably true. How many joyful evenings in how many households have been spent discussing when the EMI on the car will be over so that the money can then be used for the EMI on a new car?

I’m one of those people who hate handling money. Don’t get me wrong. I love many of the things it can assure — certain kinds of freedom, travel, fast-speed Internet, books — but prefer to never actually have to think about it. Which means, perhaps, that this is a particular type of excitement I don’t have the stomach for. Perhaps, the fear and guilt squelch out the adrenalin. Which I why I strike big blows against feminism sometimes and let A handle the bank work. Or maybe I’m just being a clever feminist (“It’s a dirty job and someone’s got to do it,” as I rub my hands together wickedly.)

In other news, I had four glorious days away from all this vulgar talk of money last week. I was in Pondicherry and besides eating, drinking, walking, mooning at the sea, eating, drinking, I concentrated on spending the little money I have in Pondicherry’s quaint, expensive ’boutiques’ (nothing is just a ’shop’ anymore, apparently). I like to buy heaps of seemingly small, cheap things rather than big, costly things because this allows me to feel all non-materialistic and virtuous. As a result, I have come back with many aromatic candles and enough incense for three medium-sized temples. Pictures soon. Of the place, not the incense.

So, as I was saying, I hate socialising after an event. Which is really awful because I either retreat into the shadows or look like I’m sulking into my drink. What I am doing actually is mulling over what I’ve seen or heard, existing for a little while in a calm bubble in my head. I should probably leave immediately after. But here’s the paradox: I like being in company. Love it, actually. Uh, without actually being in it.

It’s the same reason I sometimes go to restaurants when I can perfectly easily (and more cheaply) have the same drink in my own home. But you don’t understand, I tell A exasperatedly, ‘there will be people’. People who I will rarely know, seldom speak to, and with whom I will usually exchange a smile across the room, at most. Or an emphatic blink. I love the emphatic blink. It means so much and involves so little.

So here is what I’ve deduced: I’m deplorably lazy. I am lethargic about establishing and maintaining social contact in any active manner. I want the other person to do all the hard work. But if the other person doesn’t want to do any work, I am perfectly content with co-existing. I find it reassuring. That we all exist here, in this time, in this space. Yes, I find it a happy thought. Against all logic, I suppose. But there it is.

Vogue India’s August issue features designer bibs (like the Fendi bib the child in the photo is wearing), handbags, clutches, umbrellas–all modeled by the aam aadmi. Of course, considering that prices for  brands like Hermes Birkin and Burberry can range between $200 and $10,000, this is the only time they will ever get near them. Luxury brands have usually been accused of ignoring the average person in India. This, apparently, is Vogue’s answer to that. Vogue’s logic according to this story:

Vogue India editor Priya Tanna’s message to critics of the August shoot: “Lighten up,” she said in a telephone interview. Vogue is about realizing the “power of fashion” she said, and the shoot was saying that “fashion is no longer a rich man’s privilege. Anyone can carry it off and make it look beautiful,” she said.

“You have to remember with fashion, you can’t take it that seriously,” Ms. Tanna said. “We weren’t trying to make a political statement or save the world,” she said. (emphasis mine)

Seems to me like she’s contradicting herself a bit there. Are we supposed to believe in the ‘power of fashion’ which is going to elevate these poor people and save their lives with $100 Fendi bibs? Or are we supposed to ‘lighten up’ about poverty and have a good chuckle?

One way of looking at it is that this was an earning opportunity for these people. In which case, I’m curious to know whether they were paid as much as regular models or not. I haven’t seen the magazine so I don’t know if the editors have put this in some sort of context or are tying this up with any social programmes. But it’s a little telling that the shoot does not name the models / people in the captions. Only the brands of the accessories.

What do you think?

So Orange Jammies at Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas has, in all her infinite wisdom, decided to give me this. And because I’m such a generous soul, I am getting over my love of shiny things and actually passing this on. Well, actually, because the rules say so.

The Brilliant Weblog award is a prize given to sites and blogs that are smart and brilliant both in their content and their design. The purpose of the prize is to promote as many blogs as possible in the blogosphere.

• When you receive the prize you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back.
• Choose a minimum of 7 blogs (or even more) that you find brilliant in their content or design.
• Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing they were prized with the Brilliant Weblog Award.
• Show a picture of those who awarded you and those you give the prize (optional).
• And then we pass it on!

So the Brillante Weblog Award goes to…

1. Iz for Audacious: She’s pink. She’s gutsy. She’s hilarious. She writes about family and love and dogs (and often love for dogs) with equal aplomb. She does the personal post with such style and she’s more fun than cheesecake.

2. Anita Bora for Just A Little Something: Travel stories. Food stories. And great photographs of places all over India. She’s a window into the life I wish I was living.

3. Gopal for Which Main, What Cross: He captures my city so lovingly, frame by frame. His images get the soul of this in-flux, traffic-weary, often confusing city and I go back to them to remind myself of it.

4. Karthik and Doz for Etcetera: As they say, their blog’s got a point, if only you can find it. While you’re at it, there’s heaps of interesting stuff to read.

5. Shilo for Across the Universe: Illustrations, photographs and other flights of imagination — all of it charming.

Okay, I know it says 7 but I’m going to stop here. Have fun checking out the links. Ta!

It’s the second time I’ve been tagged for this one, first by Chandni and then by Anasuya and the latter is family so I can hardly refuse.

I’ve decided to go ahead and inflict the personal and the self-indulgent on you. So here’s the tag:

Post 5 links to 5 of your previously written posts. The posts have to relate to the 5 key words given (family, friend, yourself, your love, anything you like). Tag 5 other friends to do this meme. Try to tag at least 2 new acquaintances (if not, your current blog buddies will do) so that you get to know them each a little bit better.

Family: Now, this is tough because some time back, I moved / removed most of the personal posts from this blog but here’s what still remains — On Calcutta summers and something on Netaji.

Friend: This one’s easy. There’s Esther, Hajira, and Rita in Deorali, Jaigaon — all women I met during my travels and may never see again but who have affected and influenced me in various ways.

Myself: Ah…do this and this count?

My love: What fun! There’s chick flicks, beer, and my beloved city.

Anything I like: On sexism and Internet purdah and a piece on one of my favourite movies, Maurice.

And I tag OJ who I adore, Iz whose writing is both funny and heartbreaking, Falstaff who I regularly argue with on the blogosphere and who probably doesn’t do tags, and new blog friends Pongam and IndieQuill.

So the Toto Awards 2008 were announced ten days back. And I was one of the two winners in the creative writing category. Quite cheered up my month.

Besides a trophy and plaque, there’s a neat cash prize of 25k but what I like most is that one of the judges was Keki Daruwalla (the others being Gita Hariharan and Ravi Singh of Penguin). His approbation can only be a good thing. Also, Amitav Ghosh was there to present the awards and meeting him was fantastic.

Some of the poems I entered are here.

The truth is I’m a little bored of blogging. I just don’t have the urge to say anything in this particular space any more. I thought reinvention would help but it hasn’t. Hopefully, this is temporary. So, until later.

UPDATE: Okay, that didn’t last long. About ten days.

A few days ago, I changed the look and feel of this blog and didn’t explain it. The change had a lot to do with drawing lines between personal and public selves and explaining my motives, I felt, would be counterproductive. I’ve changed my mind since then because this whole business of drawing lines is quite fluid really. One is constantly tripping over them and adjusting them and so on. I also want to talk about this because there’s been some discussion about different aspects of online identity in the blogosphere lately, here and here. » Read the rest of this entry «

The virtual living is getting ridiculous. I think things were under control as long as it was just blogging and (even) until social networking sites like Orkut. Facebook takes things to a different level altogether. For those of you who are not familiar with Facebook, it’s a social networking site that deviates from the standard format of profile pages and guest books and offers members a host of ‘applications’ which give them exciting, albeit virtual, options like gifting eggs that will hatch into pets, or becoming vampires and biting other members or, even, stealing other people’s panties. » Read the rest of this entry «

Sixty years of independence and the mood is dichotomous. India-shining-style optimism is colliding with the stark reality of 250 million still below the poverty line and two of our most important newspapers reflect this divide in the usual, predictable ways. The Times of India is replete with gung-ho proclamations. The front page screams “60 and getting sexier”and a hefty supplement serves up a list of 60 “makers and shakers”. The tone is relentlessly upbeat. There is no mention of the other side of the story, of the ‘other’ India as it is often called. » Read the rest of this entry «