Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Dumbledore is gay. Whoopee!

Dumbledore, without doubt is my favourite character from Harry potter(along with the Weasely twins.) He's my offical adopted grandpa. All along, I've idolised him for his genius, his wisdom and experience, his courage, his style, dignity and charisma, his way of looking through people and perceiving the minutest details. I've LOVED him for his warmth, for the protective, paternal air about him. And suddenly Rowling decided that she wants to make him "human", and decides that the best way to do so is by introcuding "human complexities."

As it is, I was very disappointed to discover that she'd projected young Dumbledore as a power-hungry, unbalanced teenager. But I accepted it, looked at it objectively and decided that it did make him more interesting. Besides, his turning over a new leaf only showed him to be all the more conscientous and resolute.

But now she springs this bombshell upon us. Dumbledore is gay. I'll be 100% frank. I much prefer straight men to gay men, but for the sheer dint of the fact that their manliness is what makes them appealing. It is true that my mind and body is tuned in a certain way, so my comfort level with homosexuals wouldn't be as high as with those who are straight. But that has VERY little weight with me. I love Ellen Degeneres and Elton John, even more so because they have the guts to openly declare their sexuality. I don't have any problems being friends with someone whose secual orientation isn't the same as mine. BUT; with Dumbledore it's a different matter altogether.

Over a long period of time, I've followed Dumbledore through the first 6 years at Hogwarts; grown with him and loved him for what he'd been projected as. I've come to associate certain characteristics and a specific persona with him. I practically hero-worship him for being a pillar of strength, tenderness and composure. And I don't want him to change in ANY way. Making him gay strikes a very jarring note.

What absolutely disgusts me, is that she had NO intention of portraying him as gay when she was writing the series. The papers say that a large number of fans had questioned his sexual orientation but it's a minute number as compared to the whole. MOREOVER, some fans will conjecture anything. Some of the Harry Potter fan-fiction is just outrageous. Just because some kids with a lot of spare time on their hands, and muddled heads, thought Dumbledore was gay, is NO proof that the novels hinted at it.

I realised that she stopped writing the series for kids with the advent of book 6. That's alright. It does cause complications when 8 yr olds who've read half the series, suddenly encounter pages that talk about making out and the like, but I like the idea of a maturing Harry. However, she needn't have done this.

This is NOTHING but an effort to regenerate interest in brand Harry Potter. The legal squabble over the Hogwarts Pujo Pandal is more than sufficient proof of that. She might as well ask for money from a little boy who wanders down the street in spectacles, a fake scar and a wizard hat. And as for the last book... a literary effort has rarely left such a weak impression on me. I started out determined to like it, but was forced to accept that it reads like a masala movie script. It's SO devoid of emotion, maturity, complexity and any of the finer touches that characterised her earlier works. Contrast Percy's departure in Book 5 with his reunion is Book 7. I was SCANDALISED at the way she brought about the death of Lupin, Tonks and Fred, 3 of my favourite characters. I didn't think she would stoop so low.

The fall of an idol (I'm talking about Rowling) is always distressing. Guess the only people we should look upto are ourselves.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Winter’s Woes

It's because you have chosen December
To be the last month of the year
I get equated with the end of life,
With dreariness, gloom and fear.
If it was the other way round
(And really, that would’ve done just as well)
Then Summer would've been compared
To a scorching doom, to the fire of Hell.

What happened to my baby Christmas? Admit it:
You love the tinsel, the carols, the plum cake,
Stocking bulging with a gift all yours to take;
You love it all, even if you laugh at the christmas spirit.

So I can’t do a VIBGYOR…how does that matter?
White is pure, white is serene
White is sublime, white is pristine.
White is free from superficiality
White has softly flowing vitality.

I bring the old, the weak and weary
To a peaceful end, and make way-
For freshness and youth, for sunshine and green,
For colour, for laughter and play.

And still so much hate...
Hmphh...
See what happens when I choose to hibernate.
Always whining, feeling blue...
Learn from Santa why can't you?

Thank You, God, for the Finer Things in Life

When God created the cow (and indirectly milk),
The cold and metal (and indirectly the fridge);
I wonder if He had a dream
Of some clever human inventing ice-cream.

When He blessed the boughs of a little tree
With cherries round, rosy and sweet
When He first brought to notice how good
Cashews and grapes taste when dried up in the heat,
I wonder if He had a dream
Of them being used in ice-cream.

If so dear God, my love for you
(which mind you, is very strong)
Has increased a hundred-fold
And I dedicate to you this song.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

It's humanity, not mankind

I'm generally quite scornful of the opposite gender. Sometimes it's just because I find it fun, sometimes because I feel I have reason to. For example, take the habit men have of beating each other up to solve problems. It's so brutal; so completely devoid of rationality and dignity....so PRIMITIVE! And it's not like they can't be conniving. Then the fact that they make fun of us women when we try to diet or fuss about our clothes, but don't want to pay us attention unless we're attractive. Then their obssession with porn. Their habit of generalising. Their swollen heads.

Am I a feminist? I think I am. After all, for generations, women due to their physical weakness have fallen prey to the rules set down by men. Insecure men, who cling to their self-created exalted position in socity. We're as powerful as we believe ourselves to be. But having said that... we need men. We need men because they're as much a part of life as we are, and there'll be a definite void if they aren't present. The greater variety we have in our interaction with people, the more points of view we come across, and the richer we are in terms of experience and depth. But ultimately...when I see Hugh Grant's lop-sided smile, or hear Jim Morrison's deep, powerful tones echoing round my room, or look into Ted Hughe's dark, brooding eyes, I go all woozy and stop trying to judge them.
Other men I like/d are/were Richard Gere and Sydney Carton( of a Tale of Two Cities.)

Now let's have a look at those names.
Hugh Grant- cute, funny, charming, what is called in somewhat old-fashioned terms-"foppish."
Jim Morrison-he just exudes raw manliness and sensuality, on stage he seems to burn with a certain fire.
Ted Hughes-His poems are dark, disturbing, with a cruelly honest perception of life. He's also known for his turbulent relationships.
Richard Gere-Dashing and intellectual, he's got the class and flavour of vintage wine
Sydney Carton-A mysterious, aloof, reckless character, witty in a rather caustic way. Does his sacrificing nature raise him in my esteem? Yes it does. Do the bad luck and fighting spirit of a tragic hero make me want to take him under my wing? Yes.

There isn't much of a pattern here really. But I've come to a conclusion. I have no stereotypes as to what attracts me in a guy. As long as I see something appealing in his demeanor and personality it's alright. But to be with someone forever, he must have intellect, passion and conviction in his thoughts. A certain self-belief, yet NOT without sensitivity. Charisma definitely helps. The remaining frills are always secondary to the aforesaid criteria. 


Now here's what makes things a little complex. He MUST respect me, and I think, be a little similar to me. It's childish and weak, but when I read a poem or listen to a songI'm overwhelmed by, share it with someone only to see their forced smile and hear an "it's nice I guess"; I feel like sititng down and crying like a baby. I feel so strongly about my thoughts that I long to share them with someone and have them understood, appreciated, valued, agreed with. I guess it's childish and weak. Only when a man has that, I think, will there be that special "connection".