Byronic Heroes

Most Indians are familiar with the story of Devdas. The wealthy, frustrated, lovelorn, self-absorbed and ultimately tragic protagonist is one of the most popular fictional characters in Indian culture. However, anyone who reads or watched Devdas will be struck by how flawed he is. In a culture that practically reveres masculinity, a hero that ruins his life for the love of a woman is surprising and the story's popularity even more so.
A friend of mine mentioned Byronic heroes; essentially a character that doesn't possess 'heroic' qualities and are characterised by being rude, selfish, uncaring and a tendency to step on others. But they are also capable of great love and tenderness and this contrasted with their more dark qualities give their gentler emotions a poignancy that traditional heroes lack. There have been many popular Byronic heroes in popular movies, the Sandman from Spiderman for instance. All his escapades and his obvious lack of morals are finally revealed to be for his daughter. Other examples are Severus Snape from Harry Potter, Macbeth, Edward Rochester from Jane Eyre and my all-time favourite Scarlett O'Hara from Gone with the Wind. A more selfish, thoughtless and cunning heroine that Scarlett is hard to find.
Devdas fits into this mould perfectly and I suppose that is the reason for his appeal. Though there's immense admiration for the Mr Darcy's of the world, there's something incredibly human and appealing about a flawed character. Though all of us aim to be perfect there's no such thing as a perfect person and the Byronic heroes, in all their dark glory, represent the very essence of us.

Earrings

The Roomie, Dreamer (another friend of mine, so called beacuse of her tendency to form attachments to imaginary beings or unattainable people) and I were forced to go to MG Road last night due to circumstances beyond our control. Whatever the reason, we found ourselves on MG and lacking any sort of moral fibre promptly ended up at a cheap jewellery store. Actually calling it a store is a bit of an exaggeration, it was more like a board with junk jewellery nailed on it and an ancient bulb hanging above. The only good thing is that though we picked up stuff, most of it was for a friend who's birthday was coming up.

Junk or costume jewellery apparently came into fashion in the 1930s because, well it's cheap. This makes me feel better at the knick-knacks I have accumulated in my short life, as they aren't just cheap knockoffs, they are part of history. Even better, junk jewellery have been influenced by the Art Deco, Modern and Retro periods, which makes my Rs.10-a-pair earrings an artistic creation influenced by centuries of tradition. In fact, the earliest known example of a pierced human is a mummified gentelman who had had his ear pierced. Even Roman centurions got their nipples pierced, presumably to show their strength and virility. Julius Caesar had his done as well. Considering all this weight of history, it's a wonder I haven't obtained any additional piercings in any number of varied body parts.

A walk

I took a walk this evening with the Roomie (my roommate who henceforth will be referred to as such in this blog) and ended up at a bookstore. Now, bookstores are supposed to be quiet and comfy but when there's a sale you get tumbled piles of books, people bumping into each other, harrassed staff and noise, lots of it. I used to love libraries and so automatically go quiet whenever I'm around books.

I wonder about the story of the authors though. Does the story of the author play any part in the book? I used to think not but then again, nobody writes in a vaccum. Every author however divorced from reality leaves something of themselves in their book. I wonder if Nora Roberts would have published more than a hundred books if her Catholic education hadn't instilled in her a sense of discipline? Or if her Irish background didn't contribute to the recurring theme of magic in many of her books? Supposedly, Stephen King witnessed his friend being struck and killed by a train as a child and this could be the reason for his dark, horror-filled creations. And most famously, Herman Melville, the author of Moby Dick, used to beat his wife. Maybe that's why all the characters in the book are male.

Doggy day

If you live in India stray dogs become invisible to you. They become like the ubiquitious autorickshaws clogging up our roads and we don't really notice them anymore. Anyway my college has adopted a stray, which belongs to everyone and no one at the same time, called Onam. Why the dog has been christened after a harvest festival is anyone's guess but since the dog is blissfully unaware that it even has a name, i guess any name will do.
However as we are trying to become a developed country by 2020(nice dream) and holding the Commonwealth Games next year to impress the world, what is to be done about the approx two lakh dogs that call Delhi home? I'm sure the rest of the world will appreciate our extraordinary affinity towards other species when they are greeted by feral dogs, runaway cows, pecking chickens, constantly pooping crows and gigantic rodents.
But this is an issue for other people to think about, all I do now is dodge Onam who unsurprisingly is an absolutely shameless mutt that thinks I am his personal cook.

No one ever knows

I just realised today that just like our friends have a starring role in our lives, people we barely know or care about can influence us in many ways. A signboard like 'PJ Philip's Compound' can be the topic of a rich discussion on PJ Philip himself without ever actually meeting the person or being to his compound. Some guy who messages on Facebook can cause us to analyse each person who walks into our regular hangout so that we can find him. I am sure that the fact we care so much about other vague strangers doesn't really reflect well on our 'coolness' factor, but it does add some much needed fun to life.