So many times so many of us have compared our lives to the images SciFi writers had in the 80's. And we fell miserably short.

Where are the flying cars? The teleportation? The space travel? The Future is not here, we wail.

But then, I realised this is the Age of Data.

Information is everywhere. We are bridging the world, creating an enviable mass of information, available to anyone who cares to look. The internet has grown beyond any imaginable proportion. It is almost comparable to the Universe. No one knows its limits, it is forever expanding, and there are unlimited avenues on it.
Whatever the human mind knows today is available there. So much so, that now it is stated
"If it doesn't exist on the internet, it doesn't exist."
And the best part? It can be searched. Searched in anyway that we want.

Imagine someone who comes out into the world after 10 years of seclusion. The houses are the same, food is the same, cars are the same, flights are the same. People, mannerisms, clothes - everything same! (OK so fashion changed. But not drastically) 
But, the computer is OMG different. There are cell phones which can do everything except probably wash your clothes. Music players that can blow your mind and television that perceives more colours than your eyes.
Are they in the future? Yes. Definitely.

We are in the future. In the small part of it leading to the big revolution. The Sci Fi writers leapt ahead too fast. But we are going to catch up with them.

First, let us finsh the first draft of catalogue of the human mind.

im not tired or hungry. im not walking on roads, least of all with suitcases trailing behind me, in an unknown, cold country in the dead of the night. looking for my hotel, looking for the correct street. figuring out a new language. looking at open cafes and wondering whether to find the hotel or eat first.

its not like that at all.

it is not as if that evening or the next we had partaken of wine to make us feel the way I feel now. It is not like I had music playing when I got off the airport bus.

so what is it that has been nagging my mind to remember the evening I alighted in Paris?

I am sitting in parallel realities. one where I sit and listen to music, a glass of wine in my hand, and another where I am wandering the Rue Oberkampf at one a.m,wondering which is the correct end of the street to go to. Encountering very civil, very helpful and slightly tipsy people who would lead the way, and we would walk, a google map printout in hand.

nothing at all to remind me, of all places, of Paris, now.

except having watched La Double Vie et Veronique. Which doesn't really show paris, and very little of France. Only French (and Polish to which I can boast no connection in recent past whatsoever).

and I dont remember the French from Paris. I guess to me one of the best part of Paris was the late evening when the night was lit up with laughter of happy people sitting in "cafe"-s finishing off the night with drinks (since food had closed ages ago - i was informed very helpfully by a couple of restauranteers. and i was welcome the next day, and was to be guided by the multiple copies of their visiting cards they gave me, almost walking me back to the hotel). some of them cycling away, some sitting around, some walking off into the morning. Living their lives and enjoying it. but the night to myself. empty and nice.

so maybe the feel of that Paris coincided with dear Krzyztof's creation. who knows.

All i know is I remember walking in Paris and drinking wine in Florence.
Well past midnight, at home, listening to Hindi music, and the consistent patter of the rain outside, with nothing Italian or French around me.
I remember the languid nice feel of a vacation, and let myself submerge into it.

Sometimes when I read Bengali, it brings a smile to my face. After reading English everywhere, and hindi occasionally, surrounded by Gujarati and Marathi and splattering of Tamil and Telegu, Bengali suddenly brings to me the sweetness of the language, and the inherent poeticness of it.

The few times when I talk pure Bengali with my family, some words come up for which I cannot find a substitute in another language. Some others come up that seem archaic in Hindi, yet so commonplace in Bengali. The best part of course, is when I go to read something online in a Bengali newspaper. Sure the English version is what I read, but the reporting style still remains different. A slice of reporting from an era gone by where headlines were important and somehow, lyrical.

As I browsed and happened upon a Bengali site, I took the unusual step and opened it in office. Somehow Bengalis are unable to separate the poets out of them, and that in itself brings out a beauty in the language, something I have not noticed on others. Melodrama is part of the Bengali life, and everything has to be more serious and have higher emphasis than ever. And what better way to convey that than by grandiose language?

So going to a Durga Puja site, the captions are not something as simplistic as ‘Devi ka Visarjan’ or ‘Immersion of the Goddess’, but a phrase: Shoonya se Shoonya: puja ke kolahal mein mila hua hai nishabd, ekaki’. And the beauty of the caption is not just the caption, not the short one-liner, not the ‘antel pana’ as a Bengali would call it, but the normalcy of it all. That this is acceptable normal behavior. To write anything less would be pitiful, an unusual occurrence and of course, a sad lack of communication talent in the people who handle the page.

Is it a wonder then, that so many Bengalis have emerged as authors known for their descriptive proses? Not to me. The Bengali language itself apart from being sweet to hear, is sweetly handled. The directness of English or the technicality of Hindi may be missing from it, but it is a delight to read and hear and I feel bad for those who cannot savour its sweetness.

*antlami (आँत्लामी)/ antel-pana is the over-zealous behavior as witnessed by scholars or teachers or even, say, geeks. But then antels are ‘poets’ of a sort. If you can imagine the behavior of a kurta pajama clad man with a jhola for a bag, and thick glasses and plastered hair, talking lyrically or talking extremely seriously on economics/ world crisis/ politics/ global warming/ etc., you have identified an antel (आँतेल).

Through ages, countries and cultures, dressing up has been important for not only women, but also men. If women aspire to look pretty, men are no less, being humans afterall.

So we observe Kings spend gazillions on innovative clothing styles and jewellery. We see the successful businessmen decked out in the best that money can buy.

So where did this rift of ‘metrosexual’ and ‘rugged’ men come from? Why the divide? Why the negative connotation and the need for media to make it positive?

It is quite certain that women as a whole prefer men who are clean, neat and yes, well-dressed.

In Olde England, there was always a class of men called “dandies’ who would dress up in the most flamboyant manner possible. However, they had their set groups and did not combat with the well dressed, understated men. Mr. Brummel, also called Beau Brummel was someone who emerged a clear winner in this divide, and built the everlasting bridge. However, he was not a dandy, but a very well dressed man, who had many admirers.

Kings in India have spent any amounts of money on their clothes, be them flashy, dressy, or just practical. In pre-independence days there were ways of wearing a Dhoti* which declared your intention. A party dhoti would be tied differently as compared to a normal daily workwear one. And if anyone thought that was only personal choice, well, they are wrong. Dhotis could be starched, crimped (like crepe), worn like a dandy, like a practical wear, worn to show off some leg, or to cover every part, like a pantaloon. And of course, the shirt/ kurta/ coat/ sherwani etc were of a multitude that perhaps doesn’t exist anymore today.

Hairstyles too, were important and showed the interest of men in their attire. Long hair, curled hair (yes, men curled their hair with curlers) and straightened hair (with iron) were pretty common.

Then we ‘evolved’. Gone were the leg-showing tight half-leg tights that men wore in England. Came instead the long, loose and totally drab pantaloons – the modern trousers.

Gone were the artistic and sexual dhotis of yesteryears. Men in India wear either trousers, or if pushed, churidars, which though tight, are never tight enough to show off any leg.

Hairstyles soon after became dull, the same old parted hair and anything more considered ‘unmanly’.

Why? I wonder. Where did this abhorrence to looking presentable rise from? Sure, it may be argued that it arose from a need for ‘comfort’. However, I argue, there is no need to look ugly to be comfortable. Clothes don’t have to be loose and shapeless all the time, neither do they have to be perfect 100% of the time. But it is indeed nice to see a well-dressed person.

The power suit today is a reflection of what Beau Brummel patronized, and isn’t it surprising that though fashion changed so many times before him, after him there has been barely any change?! People still wear ties – bow ties, whereas the cravat (which formed the tie) barely mkes an appearance – though it is much more elegant. In fact, tying of a tie has come down to the simple single know and double knots. Anyone who has looked inside a premium tie brand shop knows that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Ties alone come in so many knot types. However, no one seems to use them – too much effort I guess.

So when did men actually give up in the face of dressing up effort and go behind the closed doors of a closet for all their indulgence? When did indulgence become a bad word? I don’t know. But I do know that suddenly, it was way cooler to act like the ‘real men’ didn’t close shave, didn’t wear fitting clothes and did not care about what they wore.

That changed, and men started exploring their better side. And the metro sexual man was born. No longer de rigueur to be well dressed, this species who were just answering their instinct to look nice, were ridiculed or placed at a high esteem by media – thereby again placing them beneath the touch of a normal man. Soon they surpassed themselves and went overboard in their dressing. The dandy set was back with a vengeance.

Today, the importance of looking good seems to be returning. And I am sure women all over will embrace it. It is important that the man looks good. He dresses well, acts well, eats with manners and yes, is chivalrous. It is all a combined packet. And it is needed. Jeans may be good, but they eventually don’t cut it. The wardrobe of an average Indian male woefully consists of nothing but jeans, a few pairs of formal trousers and a shirts and two shoes. None of them help their figure or looks in any manner whatsoever. There is a need for abundance of linen, cargoes (yes even if they are loose), good shorts (not the loose bags men wear usually) and some better variations.

As for me? I would love the day the long tails and knee length breeches are back, maybe I will give the top hat a miss, but seriously what is the use of lycra if men are not forced to tone their legs and show them off in the best way possible? Why should men alone have the luxury to see women dressed up while women wonder about them. I would even embrace the dhoti. In fact, there are few clothes that need customized tailoring that look as elegant as a well tied dhoti.

As more and more men increasingly feel the importance of looking good. As more women have say in the matter of choosing men, I foresee men returning to dressing well, and if possible, a little more elegantly. And I shall not lose hope of seeing a few good legs firmly encased in cloth/lycra **without being gay. As for the high heeled shoes favoured be 17^th century men? Naah, some things need to evolve over time. Though men would love the thought og legitimately adding inches to their height, I hope they give them a firm pass.

*By Dhoti, I mean dhoti not Veshti, ugh!

** need of legs being covered lies in the simple fact that hairless legs on men looks gay, and hairy legs look bad.
 

Now, if life were simple, things would be something like following:
Feel like working? Take up a job. Earn money. Have fun!
Dont feel like working? Quit job. Sit at home. Have fun!