Urban poverty in New York of the late nineteenth century

Jacob Riis was the author of How the other half lives , a series of photographs that captured the squalor of Lower East Side of Manhattan of the 1880's ,in what is now considered a pioneering attempt at photojournalism.The images must have been far more shocking and compelling then, for modern readers have been  de-sensitized  to photos that depict extreme poverty.Some of the photos are reminiscent of  pictures from Auschwitz.It's strange to imagine that  the descendants of these mostly European immigrants are probably regular New Yorkers today.

Photograph titled 'five cents a spot',referring to the  price for a place to sleep on the floor of a tenement.

Children  sleeping in Mulberry Street(1890)

Reading D.H. Lawrence

D.H. Lawrence is one of those it is rather unfashionable to claim to like.I read half of Sons and Lovers while in school and what remains with me are the evocative descriptions of a tormented ,dysfuntional family- the abusive,drunken coal miner and the sensitive boy ,deeply attached to his mother.
Recently, I chanced upon Lady Chatterley's Lover in a library book sale.Four months later,I'm still half-way through.The language and ideas are dated and more than what was then-shocking ,what strikes the modern reader is how the book is steeped in the British class system.Apparently, it was de rigeur for an aristocratic woman to take up with a gentleman, but scandalous for her to have an affair with a lowly game-keeper.Again, the aristocratic woman lives near a mining colony, and is horrified and repulsed by the 'half-human' coal miners.As with Sons and Lovers , melancholia permeates the book.Despite its failings, I would read the book solely for the lyrical prose.The foreword by Lawrence is rather touching, his earnestness and initial desire to name the book 'Tenderness'.One imagines him dying a broken man,exhausted by his efforts to publish his 'pornographic' book.

Newspapers and books

I haven't been reading quite as much as I ought to.Ever since I stopped the newspaper subscription due to monetary concerns , I've rarely read the news.Now , I live in a bubble of ignorance.I miss those delicious Sunday op-eds.

You'd think that it would be just as easy to visit the newspaper's website - but there's nothing like poring over a crisp sheet of paper , coffee mug in hand.

It's also been quite some time since I picked up a book- I tried reading Magic Seeds by Naipaul,but he gets tiresome. He loves harping on the same old themes-Gandhi, the repressed Indian psyche,and so on.

So , in lieu of actually reading books , I've begun listening to you-tube lectures on them. Yale University lets you become a fly on the wall in it's classrooms.I listened to Amy Hungerford's class on Nabokov's Lolita as part of her series of lectures on the American novel since 1945.It can be a little abstruse, and much of it doesn't make sense unless you've actually read the book, but it can be an interesting diversion.

As for reading newspapers , I've decided to haul myself down to the hostel lobby where they keep the newspaper, often dismembered and daubed with tomato sauce .This will entail climbing down two flights of stairs - so I will get a free work out in the bargain.So much for keeping myself well informed!

Killing time

I recently found out that I am distantly related to a prominent journalist and gay rights activist, famous for his scandalous comments on prime time television. Since he is related to my mother (a distant uncle), she now has to endure endless ribbing about having gay relatives from my father. I, however, was fascinated, and I quickly googled him. I found out that he runs a popular gay magazine and I went on to explore the gay sub-culture in Mumbai .I knew this was voyeuristic, but I couldn't stop myself .I found myself poring over blogs by gay people and visiting gay chat rooms. I completely sympathize with gay people but I was disturbed with the ease with which I took to spying on people. The fact that I could do all this anonymously made it easier.Perhaps its human nature.Perhaps one is always fascinated with what is considered taboo. Or a sign that one needs to get a life!

Beaters and cringers

Dickens says people are either ' beaters or cringers '. This may sound simplistic , but it can serve as a useful rule of thumb. Notice how two ' beaters ' can never get along , and that in a marriage , one person is inevitably the beater and the other is the 'cringer' .

I've often often wondered which category I belong to , and I've noticed that my behavior has been woefully ' cringey '- though I 'm actually a beater . This probably doesn't make sense , but life seldom does.

Random thoughts

Independence is'nt easy .Five months of living outside the nest and I'm beseiged by ego wrangles with room mates , having to live on a shoe string budget and missing home comforts . It does have it's upside though - I do feel like a responsible adult in charge of my destiny .Well , almost .
In a lighter vein , saw 'Jodha Akbar ' the other day. The movie claims to chronicle the love story of the Mughal Emperor Akbar and his Hindu wife Jodha.What it forgets to mention is that he married many such Hindu Princesses and the marriages were all probably politically motivated .
Historical inaccuracies aside , the movie was'nt that bad , enjoyable even , in parts. What intrigues me though , is whether people really wore clothes in such psychedelic colours in those days.
If you'd care to know , had a bout of Typhoid some time ago . Was told to go easy on fried food and the like .Three weeks after my tryst with good old Salmonella typhii and I'm finally allowed to eat carcinogenic junk. Hallelujah .

Post adolescent angst !

Twenty third of December brought the sobering realisation that I was now twenty one years old . Alas , the celebrations were not in the manner of a Bacchanalian orgy , but a quiet dinner with family.

While at twenty one , one is expected to be a mature , responsible citizen , I found myself embroiled in a petty squabble with a room-mate . " We have reached a parting of the ways! " , we exclaimed, as we flounced off our separate ways.

Such is life. One hopes to learn from one's experiences . But none of this will matter in the larger scheme of things. One must soldier on , difficult as it may seem.