So yeah I noticed the wailing kids everywhere. I started because their wailing is annoying, I cannot concentrate on what I am reading, its about being helpless, its not being able to whack that little tomahawk in the backside of his/her head and its plain attention drawing.

But heres what I think is crucial, its too damn passionate. They are persistent, they know they are annoying a whole bunch of people, given the stares and glares, and for what, its probably a particular bottle of juice, or for a book or for a pair of bright socks. Its nothing all that decisive, its not all that life changing or shattering its hardly a consequential decision/choice, but the passion....... man is undying, its unnerving, and yeah thats what we lose as we grow up!

So the more consequential our choices become, the less noise we make to be heard!

Increasingly my preoccupations with ideas of "style" and "fashion" are at once clear and blurred. I am after much thought beginning to understand that being "stylish" and being "Fashionable" are not interchangeable. neither is it a matter of preferring one over the other, it is processual. However having said that the movement is not linear. It could begin by a person being "stylish" and evolving into being "Fashionable" or the other way round.
Being "Fashionable" is a more all encompassing word. Because it entails a certain amount of knowledge, its based on the art of 'sprezzatura'-the Art of disguising Art, it requires a great deal of attention to details in order to create a complete being(or atleast one that you present to the world) and being precotious.

Once this process has been established, the next idea is to support the argument that 'Indians by and large may be stylish in their own unique ways(ref:http://dustyrain.blogspot.com/2008/10/stylish-indian.html ) but are painfully unfashionable.
To the above mentioned point there have been a few disagreements:

1) Most "Fashions" on the ramp are totally unwearable: I had previously given the instance of Galliano, and Warhol as icons of Fashionable because Fashionable entails exhibitionism, the pleasures of the visual etc. I will however give instances by well known designers and Brands who are churning out absolutely 'wearable' and 'fashionable' clothes fall after fall. Take for instance, Lagerfeld, Calvin Klein, Armani, Gucci, Guess, Valentino.
2) Understandably the above mentioned names would not have penetrated India but would surely have penetrated the growing number of people living in most urban cities of India. The statement made was that "Indians are painfully unfashionable" implying that even those that may aford being remotely fashionable are dangerously not.
3) Its been pointed out that many designers and connoiseurs of fashion have very often picked up motifs from India, from our own land of the ethnic. Yes Indeed, the spare kohlapuri's, the paisley motifs, the swastika, the bejwelling, the kaftan, the slimmer fitting Kurtis, the block prints, the duppatta, now the fashionable stole, some weaves aswell etc etc. Yes thats what being fashionable is: the sense of a global fusion, so you match a bandhni Duppata with a Lagerfeld designed short coat and your ready for work! Having said this please take note that the "fashionable" was not just created on that. Most of these are inspired accesories to complete an entire ensemble. So I argue that most Indians cannot put it together and believe me it not always has to do with affordability. As far as the hippie style revival/fashion trend from the east is concerned, that was a whole movement meant to overthrow dictates of Fashion"-it was essentially anti-fashion in nature and along with the long open hair afghans and kaftans-army combat shirts jackets no make up etc were considered fashionable. Some of these styles and fashions continue to remain in vogue even today and borrowing one influence or another from different parts dont really count in making that concerned part Fashionable in any way.

3) While "fashion" may threaten to burn holes in your pocket, I say that not quite so. Infact, whats wrong is really some glitches with fundamentals. For instance Yellow shirts and green trousers, the shade does not matter, but its an absolute no, no given all conditions(Govinda's continue to survive), if one is horizontally expanding its a crime to wear bold horizontal stripes in the light of day, its geometry! You dont attend your wedding in a Tassar dhoti and black old sneakers thinking that you could pass them off as formals somehow, if you have a baby ponch(the indian body type tends to), you avoid wearing synthetic materials that tend to stick and emphasize, if you dont know what kind of a bag to carry to that wedding, your 'little' school bag is not an option, just because 'kantha' work is fashionable you dont spend a fortune on one thats woven like the architecture in NY. There is quite frankly no dearth of people who can afford to be fashionable in India, but the basic sense of mixing and matching is totally missing among most. There are many value for money stores across the world where you have to be a smart shopper(about that later). Take some of the celeb started outlet stores, I have been to some of them and yes they are affordable(5-20$) and very fashionable. Its possible to collect almost an entire wardrobe in very reasonable budgets when one shops from places like H&M, ZARA, Forever21, Strawberry etc.

All I am saying is that one can be fashionable and stylish together without having to spend fortunes, but because its something that does not work all that well with guidebooks and how to's.....its a matter of talent. Its nothing vain glorious, just that, in a way that everyone cannot sing well or paint well similarly not everyone can be fashionable.

Finally Marx as outdated as he may be had mentioned to something as the intellectual Capital production within a superstructure. Essentially referring to the thinking lot of the society and he had said that they maybe produced only out of the surplus. So yes India has a long way to go before we can safely conclude that an Indian is fashionable, not in his/her own way, but in a very global way. And I favour no single way as the universal way....its all about mixing and matching it.

Location: UN, NY
Date: 17.10.08
Event: The international Day for Eradication of Poverty.
Its not half as shallow as it would appear. This is the day when the 'powerful' have begun to aknowledge the existence of 'powerlessness'. One could say that it is indeed hypocritical to commemorate a single day to a reality that has now existed for a very long time. Well, I am at this organization and its not as powerful as the world imagines it to be. Its sense of power derives out of the agreement from 193 nations around the world.
There is a symbolic Chinese Peace Bell here and most open air world events/international days are held in its proximity. Today the Broadway cast of "A Tale of Two Cities" performed three songs. The first being a solo by a character called Mrs Defarge-a poor old french lady, who sees a young boy die and her change becomes the impetus for the French revolution-the song 'Out of sight, out of mind"
To all who stood there in the cold, we pledged the following:
"We are standing now with millions around the world on this symbolic day, the International Day.....Poverty, to show solidarity with poor people everywhere and to renew our commitment to fight against extreme poverty and inequality.
We are standing because everyday 50,000 people die needlessly as a result of extremem poverty, and the gap between the rich and the poor is getting wider.
We are standing to call on leaders-from both rich and poor countries-to deliver on their commitments to meet the Millenium Development Goals.
We are standing here at the United Nations because we pledge to accelerate our efforts to achieve the MDG's, and to keep the campaign to end extreme poverty at the heart of our work.
Today, and everyday, we will stand up, speak out and take action against poverty. We are millions of voices standing in solidarity to say: Make it happen-end poverty now."
There are words out there that unconvince me, that I know form part of the official rhetoric.
Another morning,
a walk to the subway
the wait
the coffee
She sits at the exit begging,
Surrounded by tallest of them all,
the speed,
the stale early morning smell,
the smoke, the affluence.
Everyday she dreams bigger and better

The American Squirrels are bigger, they have a far more bushier tail, they are not really scared of people and they seem to remember where they hide their nuts. But I also think that they appear particularly viscious. As if they wont think twice before biting you.

6.10.2008,

Its a time of the year when the adage"once a bong, always a bong" cannot ring truer. If your a bengali from India, then Durga Puja is quite literally the beginning of the year. It does not matter that , by this logic, the bong calendar begins 10 months later as opposed to the Gregorian calendar followed by the rest of the world. Its a time to celebrate, enjoy, indulge, flirt-the puja lasts for four days, its carnivalesque time for most, suspension of disbelief, a beautiful song, a season that goes as fast as it came.

So upholding this certain tendancy, I decided to look for Puja celebrations in New York. The quest began three weeks before the Pujas were scheduled to begin. My only source at that point was a fellow bong. It was only much later that I realized he was ashamed to admit that he had not the vaguest idea of any puja celebrations in NY. My flatmate, who happens to be an Andhraite seemed to know more about this "Navratra' phenomenon. So she gave me an address.

It was Soptomi, I got out early in the morning, the nip in the air was getting worse, but I put on clothes keeping the near future in mind, ie, the evening, when I would finally reach the Puja Celebrations, smell the 'Dhoop', hear the Aarti, and perhaps meet kindred souls.

I reached work and could hardly sit still, I was excited, I felt I would meet other bongs, see how they have been living in this city, talk, hear stories that I now concede to missing terribly from back home. Discover older bong women/men alike discovering me, gauge their reactions, but my main interest was to find out about them. Yes I am absolutely lousy, I want to meet people because I believe some would give me stories to hang on to.

Since my excitement was growing as the evening approached, I had to take a check. Did the Pujas actually happen at the 'jain' temple my Flatmate had conveniently directed me to. Moreover, I dont want to be a bitch, but my flatmate does not know about the shops behind her house, she does not know the names of her neighbours although she meets them everyday in the elevator and she prefers to spend her weekends cooking in the Kitchen for food that would last her in the coming week! So I do, what I know best to do........I google! And as sure as my fears were correct, the jains were not celebrating Durga Puja! The Gujjus were......well not entirely correct, the Gujrat Samaj Hall located in Fresh meadows had rented out the hall to the ECDPA(East coast Durga Puja Association), which boasts of being the largest Bengali association in North America. Great, this sounded even better, so I took down the address, checked my map and figured out the route.

It should suffice to tell you that that evening I tried every possible means of Public transport that NYC has to offer. Not only was Fresh meadows, located in the god forsaken east of NYC, it was a positively daunting task to reach the venue itself. I changed three subways and after rudely staring at a stranger for two complete hours, I only reached Hill Side avenue. Thankfully I was told by a very helpful MTA guy that I would have to board the Q17. I did and after half an hour I was dropped of at 175 Horace Harding Expressway. It was night, I was cold, but very hopeful. The Hall was located at 173 Horace Harding Road.

And so my ordeal to find this street, this hall began. In 10 mins I was convinced that I was on the wrong side of the highway. There were clearly marked streets 174 and 172, and a road in between that had no sign atall. But I have learnt never to assume, how else do you work though??? So I assumed that all odd numbers must be located on the other side of the exppressway. The overhead bridge was one of the longest ever and could hardly believe the speed at which those long oil tanks were going. So if you feel perversely suicidal, then I thought this would be the place to take the jump.

Having made it to the other side, I spotted an appartment numbered 15, and it was on the 173rd....so although it looked so unlikely, I thought you never know. I knocked and after an eternity an old jewish man opened the window. I did not know how to tell him that I already knew that he could not help. So I asked him, he did not know and I left. I rushed into the nearby Deli, it was 8:30pm already and I could not look around much longer. The guy was an Afghan and seemed to know that some Indians were looking for the hall, but did not know where it was. A woman came along to help because she had some kind of a map thing on her cell phone, she said it was on the side that I had left. I was going to box her when she warned, 'Take care, this time of the night and all'.....I was this close!

So why was this Gujrat Samaj Hall so obscurely located, As a matter of fact, it was not obscure, it was right on the expressway. Its just that I could not believe it was in this appaling condition. I mean you have a Martial arts gym thats glowing, there is a neatly spaced but clearly marked Dr Bartelluci Centre, a small time magazine that probably runs on the community;s funds, but has an office thats spottable, but this Samaj hall is a ramshackled place. It was surrounded by skeletal scaffoldings, bins and bins of unused paint, dustbins and litter loitered around, moreover the entrance was all the way on the other side. I entered and I saw an empty podium. there were some who were packing up the idol.

Did I miss something, was Puja over? As a matter of fact it was. Apparently, celebrations in NY happen only on the weekends. Neither the people nor the city has time on any other days, not for concerts, not for broadway shows, not for Times square, religion or a Loaf along the Hudson.

I met a bengali man, a mechanical Engineer who has been living in NY for the last 30years. He said, "NY is our home, it has given us a job, a place to stay, money, standard of living, lifestyle and entertainment but we miss India, we are proud of where its heading, and we long to return someday soon"

By the time I reached I was exhausted, I sat alone, eating a spicy chicken wrap at Burger king, I watched the residents of flushing, hurrying home, a guy who sat behind me was preparin to ask out a girl, another adolescent could not get enough of her boyfriend, a girl with shocking pink hair was being scolded at the counter for giving the wrong order. I finished my wraps, I returned to the subway station