September 10, 2023
Does KISS tell a story? The staggered heart, its follies and the bemusements! The cracked emotions and the pell-mell of me finding you from the stacks of the past prodigals falls heavily as a ‘revelatory kiss’; once it happened and stays there, in me, in glimpses of if it could have been any other way. Yes! Kiss does tell a story or was it a tale of gratification to the aroused heart?
Rahul Gandhi’s kiss in the parliament is more of a story than ridicule! We Indians get offended quite easily evoking a tempest in a teapot. Is Kiss all about love and lethargy? Or is it a phantasmagoria that breaks recluse to the vivid imagination of the dreamer. The ‘puff’ lasting long or a squeeze folding the corrugated skin has a story to tell—not always the mushy-mushroom type but a tale of repressed emotions buried deep to flow cathartically in reluctance.
The ‘Kiss’ can be either ‘patriarchal’ or ‘misogynist’, perch as ‘parliamentary’ or ‘unparliamentarily’, never thought it could be so bothersome; though Mr. Gandhi now knows how his ‘flying kiss’ irritated the ‘women of par-lance’ in the par-liment. But, of course! Kiss is a Kiss—everything looks normal about it, I mean there is a way to it, a savoir faire that Mrs. Irani swears by. So, where did our very own fledgling ‘Rahul Gandhi’ falter in his flounce? They call it a ‘flying kiss’ that pounced flagellatingly at the harrumphed BJP ministers sitting right across in the parliament.
A ‘Kiss’ here it seems like a pun intended signature by the foolhardy ‘Gandhi’. What was it for? A frisson maybe or to shun the gobbledygook raised to a crescendo by the veterans. What he meant was, ‘I love you even if every time I am told to drown in the sacrificial pit.’ The entry of the sassy Smriti Irani tore the Earth from under the feet. The Union Minister for Women and Child Development took the ‘high-fly’ kiss as an intemperate snort. What followed was a harangue deluged in a piteous cry of ‘misogyny melodrama’.
‘Give me a break’—Gandhi wanted to scream but took a ‘hyperbole kiss’ to stop the all-pervading conundrum. That’s my opinion and I stick by it!
Doesn’t it happen with us too? How we blow a kiss to settle the cacophony of a child crying. Or intrepidly settle the quirky kiss on the palm of our hands when the mess in our lives gets a bit numb. And the final spoiler by Gandhi—a kiss to end the what aboutery in case the words of the opponent become a sledgehammer to rip you off your integrity!
The recent conceited Kiss is a story of belabor to a set of dysfunctional minds that tirelessly spook the wheel with congested nails. Don’t we hear this often; the dynastic claptrap and the block & tackle of refute labeling Rahul Gandhi as a mendelevium. His savoir faire is vandalized by the soi-disant solecist. And, now what he does is satirized as a ‘misogynistic act’.
I still vouch for it, ‘Kiss is a Kiss’ and will always carry a story; a sauerkraut of imperceptible emotions, battered and then fried to leave a residue of acceptability and belonging.
Ms. Irani ironically found herself in a staged-Soap Opera esoterically condemning the ‘Kiss rendition’ reprising it as a fundamental obnoxity. Ms. Irani, I would like to ask if misogyny can be easily transfixed to something like a ‘flying kiss’? What about the relentless storms that perforate the civil minds in the Parliament? And of course, the heedless hollers who entertain at the cost of their opponents incursions?
Isn’t it all this a schadenfreude? Or better to call them ‘impressionist’.
And what we call Mr. Gandhi here?—the desiccated spirit who every time is soughed to be a maudlin. A single action that too not addressed at women in the parliament does not make him a misogynist.
Kyunki har ek bhav ke pichey ek kahani hoti hai
(Every expression has a story behind it)