Cycle of research

There is a topic about which you don't know any thing. Better. But then you know something of it. OK, no problem. Then you start learning more about it. There the cycle of a varying knowledge on the subject starts. Truths, half truths and manufactured truths start pouring in. We heard and read about Shakespeare in our childhood. A great playwriter, a great man indeed. Our curiousity to know and read more about him led us to come across the a newly revealed theory that as a result of research that whatever is the work recognized as from Shakespeare  was not his own, it was some one else and Thomas Balsingham was quoted to be the real writer in the background. Several such stories emerged. Now if the media version is to be relied upon, Shakespeare was not a male but female. They say it was Amelia Bassano Lanier in Elizabethan, London, who disguised herself as Shakespeare trying to get her works published (Reference -a news item in Times of India of date). The readers chronically interested in the playwright must be feeling confused and so am I. We felt alright knowing Shakespeare in a limited manner and these new theories are only spoiling our curiousity on him.

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Mystery Woman !

Came across a blog with a poem full of melancholy and sadness only the other day.It was something much more than what Keats penned in his ‘ode to melancholy’.Poem followed by some scriblings spoke volumes of seclusion pangs denoting a tempestuous depth of feelings she might be undergoing. ‘Save me against myself’ was the appeal. Her extraordinarily beautiful picture appearing in the blog was itself capable of telling a thousand stories through her deep looks glued to something just invisible. Sympathies sprangup from the core of my heart and I felt like I could share her grief whatever it was but she was inaccessible sans any consideration for her sympathizers –she could be callous or is helpless I don’t know. It’s like I see something and I don’t see. I possibly can’t identify her beyond what Shakespeare might have kept in his mind while talking about ‘Dark Lady’ of his sonnets.

Blow,blow, thou winter wind !

There is nothing like a measuring rod to calculate how many types of men are there on earth –the type that speaks of their mode of conduct, their behaviour, their role as a human being, their conduct as a social factor. Urdu language calls a human being as ‘haivaan-e-natique’ meaning thereby that a human being is equally an animal with the difference that he can use his tongue and speakout to others what he feels as against an animal incapable of doing so or may be they are equally able to speak out their emotions but we the humans fail to understand it. Speaking out one’s mind is not enough in itself –what counts more is what is it that he talks. The saying ‘achhi vaani boliyey man ka aapa khoi, aapan ko sheetal lagey auran ko such deyeya’ is the purpose and purport of the talk a person can have. There are faithfuls and there are those who are ungrateful and innumerable stories on that count we have been hearing for ages. Out of disgust at certain delicate stage, Shakespeare had to say ‘..blow, blow thou winter wind, thou art not so unkind as the friends sometimes are’ For ages such a grievance has been there and again for ages it has to continue like this. What the man can do to satisfy himself is to express his agony and then keep quiet like his predecessor generations did.

Frailty thy name is (not) woman!

When Shakespeare observed ‘frailty thy name is woman’, he certainly had a most dignified and delicate a character in mind. His days were obviously different on the social front laden with a culture dominantly conservative but the intrinsic worth and the value based characteracteristics a gender carries are to a great extent eternal. He might never have thought that the word ‘frailty’ could some day be literally taken as weakness totally abandoning the virtuous grace, tenderness and delicacy of which a woman has been supposed to be the symbol for ages right after Adam and Eve came out of the caves and the male and female both started using some cover to their nudity. Now that many an areas are there where switchover to newer dimensions of culture and social behaviour are in vogue fullthroatedly justifying the move to any extent, the question arises whether inherent virtues and grace are compromised killing the basic fabric behind attraction of a gender.
The saying that where women are worshipped, Gods are there places the ladies at a level where they become the very source of attraction for the male gender.Today’s woman has become more a sex object than a matter of chaste beauty with the result that materialism has come to surface to the extent that a female (not a weaker sex) elicits nothing beyond a lusty gaze or a vulturous chase. A camera man who can manage the extremes of an exposure with nudity fully manifest on the surface is best admired and acclaimed. If a woman is a beauty just from her nudeness angle, what else is the obscenity. Those relishing only a robust exposure attempt to redefine obscenity as beauty in the name of ‘modern view’ are just mistaken as it is something that can’t be replaced simply by changing the name, nor it can alter something that is eternal and divine. More the nakedness, more the clappings could be the order of the day for some but if there is something like a soothing sereneness, it stands no where. The saying that ‘beauty lies the eyes that behold’ only caterorises the onlookers as those who solemnly admire and faithfully relish the glaringly transparent beauty of a woman abundantly rich in her intrinsic worth on one side and those on the other who brazenly prefer to gallop whatever form that meets their unbridled fancy with voluptuously surcharged hunger for flesh and loose laurels on that count.. Exposure beyond a certain limit is utter nakedness and that trend is growing as an order of the day.If it continues like this, the woman is destined to lose the chasteness of her beauty and charm –what is spposed to be left is an artificial praise for her by the lusty chaps depriving her of the inherent grace.