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There is a photo the other day in DC (9 Jan, Page 3) with the title: THEY LIKE TO MOVE IT.
It shows a mixed crowd of youth shaking several legs. The girl in the foreground is dressed (like many others) in black jeans and green tops with the message: TWISTS 'N' TURNS in white lettering. Her legs are apart in what we used to call the: 'Stand at Ease' pose in our Drill Class (hated). Her left arm is akimbo and the right bent at the elbow and hand touching her head 'turned left'. And there is a black wrist band. And this default smile on her map. And a hundred others following her lead.
The caption reads:
"A group of youngsters take part in a flash mob organised by 'Spirit of Hyderabad' at People's Plaza in Hyderabad on Sunday. A flash mob is a sudden gathering of people in a public place to perform a seemingly pointless act for a brief time in which others join."
An old fog like me should not bitch about the newfangled antics of today's youth. But the word: "Spirit" looks askance.
Anyway, as soon as I saw the photo and read the caption, I recalled the French phrase: "joie de vivre" which was in a prose piece in our University. Our Teacher insisted that the phrase is native to the French and can't be translated truly. And he gave the meek literal translation: "joy of living". Nowadays girls and boys come to my door, press the bell and ask me to join their Art of Living: "Vivre D'art" (?). And I generally ask them: "What about the Arthritis of the Living?"
Jokes apart, there IS a thing called Joy of (just) Living. I mean, a joy not induced by drugs, dopes and Ecstasy, not to talk of the Spirits of Hyderabad about which there is a furor nowadays because they are selling at 30% more than their MRP (they have a captive market). This Joy is induced by the mere air one breathes...not the polluted air of Hyderabad, but of the Jungles of the Himalayan foothills upon which Jim Corbett repeatedly exults. That was more than a century ago. The animals, the birds, the butterflies and even the trees in their natural habitats are the best evidence of this inexplicable joy.
Well, I lived sixty years ago in our Village which heard of no pollution. And I was witness to this Joy whenever the resident troop of monkeys used to visit our para. There were about a dozen of all ages and sexes and they reveled in their antics: "The Spirit of Muthukur": gambol, jump, break a branch here, pluck a fruit there, snatch a banana from that kitchen, bare fangs at kids, scratch themselves and their kith and kin relentlessly, leaving a memory behind.
There was this wonderful piece with color pics in the Chandamama of our childhood:
After Raavan was killed with all his ten heads intact (his joie de vivre was in his navel) and Vibhishan was crowned in Sri Lanka, Lord Raam's thoughts turned to his native Ayodhya on the banks of the now-polluted Sarayu. And he took only one piece of Raavan's equipment; the Pushpak Viman, the jet plane with the provision that there is always one seat left however many board it. And invited everyone of his helpers to board and travel to Ayodhya to revel in his Crowning Ceremony that was held up for 14 long years. And the joy of his troop of monkeys knew no bounds.
During the ceremonial feast, the monkey warriors were all seated on the floor (as we all used to, in our childhood) waiting for the service to begin. And as they began their dinner, one monkey, while handling his nut, happened to slip it up and launch it in the air like a projectile reaching the maximum height of about 3 feet. That was it! Spirit of Ayodhya! The monkey got enraged by the antics of the nut and himself jumped up 4 feet to rival it. His neighbor got into the act and jumped 5 feet and so on. And everyone of them in the line joined the "seemingly pointless act".
There was pandemonium and Angad tried to restore order, but as it always happens with joie de vivre, he too joined the act. And so did Hanuman. And their King Sugriv.
Laxman, the joyless younger brother of Raam (he didn't sleep for 14 years...his wife Urmila did it for him too) got angry and was about to 'shoot at sight'. Raam got the news and ran in to prevent any mayhem and gave a brief and pointed speech as to the Code of Conduct and the DC (not the newspaper but the dreaded Disciplinary Committee). Nothing happened. They all were asking for Sita to appear before them and feed them...for, it was she who ought to be most grateful to the warriors who released her from her prison under that Ashok Tree.
So, Sita arrived bedecked in all her jewelery and started serving them laddus one by one. And they all sat down meekly and one by one picked their laddus from her hands demurely and delicately without touching her...there is a Code of Conduct in the monkey kingdom too...
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Last night about 8 PM Ishani was playing pranks with me and my wife on our bed and delighting us with her joie de vivre. All of a sudden she stopped, jumped down from our bed, and started running to the Drawing Room, mumbling:
"kolavari di is coming!"
"Where?"
"TV"
Another piece of joie de vivre, that video!
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