Fill the World with Hope

Hello friends, Google Buzz asked me "what are you thinking?" What shall I say. I am thinking about all of you. What else should I think about? Hope you also will find a few minutes a day to think about me. The knowledge that there is someone to think about me is very encouraging. It fills me with hope and enthusiasm. So let us make this world hopeful by thinking about others

Instilling Creativity

Response to http://beta.thehindu.com/opinion/open-page/article74733.ece

Why have art and literature lost its importance is a question whose answer is known to everyone. It is the profit driven market economy, a socio-economic system in which the value of person is calculated on the basis of what one has and not what one is. The wealthier one is the better he/she is. The more luxurious one is the greater he/she is. Courses in the art stream are not as financially rewarding as the courses in commerce and science streams for obvious reasons.
The mechanical repetition of what one studied in commerce and science streams can fetch him/her a salary sufficient to run a middle class family. But in arts and literature one needs to be creative at every point of his/her work. Unfortunately, our educational system does not improve the creativity of the students and hence the art and literature students are at loss, unable to find a job to make their livelihood.
Removal of Chaucer’s Prologue or Nun’s Tale and inclusion of report writing and proposal writing, as the author suggests, is not a solution for the problem. Teaching of neither report writing nor proposal writing will develop the creativity of the students. Study of literature alone will develop it. The major problem is not in the content of teaching but in the method of teaching and evaluation. In our classrooms what happens is only the transfer of information from teachers or lecturers to the students and our exams are just memory tests.
Therefore, developing of a teaching methodology and evaluation system that develops and tests the creativity of students will definitely solve the problem to a great extent.

The Natural Counsellor

Waves roar and groan in the sea of miseries
Where my life sinks and floats
Sometimes, for a breath, I long in the deep
Something then pushes me up and then pulls me down

Waves are mild and slow on this Friday eve
They come and dab the sandy shore
Sooth the aching minds of thousand men
Sitting on the Male’ shore, gazing at the mysteries (miseries) deep

Arnold “saw a note of eternal sadness” in the rising waves
They, but, wipe my grieves away and heals my ailing heart.

Ships swaying in the seamless waves,
Boats dancing in the ocean drifts,
Launches* scudding across,
Planes gliding down.
Cures; it cures,
Oh! Lord.

*Speed Boats

These are few lines jotted on 5 February 2010 sitting at the Artificial beach of Male’, Maldives. I came and sat there to get relieved from the tensions of life; to enjoy a comforting pat of the gentle breeze; to get my agonies washed away by the rising waves. My tension for the day is accommodation.

Audacious Bankers

A teacher working in Maldives gently pushed open the glass door and slipped into the Anchal Branch of Canara Bank, together with his brother, a cadet in the Indian Naval Academy Ezhimala. They stood elegantly before the BM’s cabin awaiting the exit of another gentleman inside. Minutes passed as they signed and exchanged a few papers.

Both of them politely entered the cabin after the gentleman moved out. The B.M was looking down on some papers and only his head sprinkled with white hue was visible. They took their seats obeying the gesture of the downward looking man, and waited for his work to get over, so that they can talk to him face to face. But the pages were being turned over and over and his chin was still nuzzling his chest. Then a coarse voice that gushed down inquired for the purpose of their visit. The teacher said, “Sir, we came for two purposes. First to open an account in your bank and the next was to apply for an education loan”. “We can’t simply give educational loans. It is only for students who are admitted in the merit list” growled the downward looking man. “We have brought the credentials of the student, please have a look at it and decide” replied the customers. “I can’t say anything unless I see the student. Let the student and his father come here once” said the voice reflected upward from the table glass of the BM. “I don’t have time now, please don’t disturb me “, it continued, bringing an end to the discussion. The dejected customers calmly cleared off the cabin annoyed and insulted.

How audacious the public servants are!!!! We couldn’t see his face at least, they grumbled while starting their bike. And the disheartened teacher was this humble self.

Into the Blues

Yet another Holy Week is in progress; four days past the Palm Sunday; halleluiahs and hosannas have tailed off; the Maundy Thursday, the precursor of Good Friday dawns.

All my belongings were packed up; the bags were weighed and locked; name slips were stuck to; ticket, passport and work permit were checked okay. Phone bells rang; picked up and put down saying “thanks for the wishes and keep me in your prayers”.

The whole family had a prayerful gathering. Heart beats orchestrated the hymn. A few beads of tears rolled down the cheeks; splattered and splashed. Felt the warmth of the parental lips on my forehead. Got into the taxi throbbing outside; the doors were slammed and we headed towards Thiruvananthapuram. My journey into the blues thus began.

It was almost 12.45 pm when the taxi glided to a halt in front of the entrance of the International Terminal of Thiruvananthapuram airport. The big bag and the carton box were put on a trolley while the laptop and lunch hanged on my left shoulder. Attempt was made to move forward. But the trolley did not come my way. Left the disobedient trolley and dragged my luggage towards the entry door.

A stocky uniformed man with a long rifle stopped me and asked for the documents. A permitting nod was given after a quick glance of the passport and ticket. Airport door opened before me for the first time in life. I swaggered towards the Island Airways counter and got my boarding pass. As per the instructions got from the counter I moved towards the counter where my luggage was weighed and tagged. Being relieved of my luggage I climbed towards the waiting room.

The time was almost 1.30 pm. Another two more hours for the long awaited take off. The lunch pack was opened on my lap; had half of it and that sufficed. Excitement of the first foreign trip did not keep me on the seat for long. Moved from seat to seat; started pacing about; rang up a few friends and relatives to say a final bye. Time seemed to be longer.

Some others to the same destination were identified in the meanwhile. Their movements were observed carefully, to follow the suit. Imitation and emulation are ways out for the ignorant. A few minutes later I saw some of them taking their handbag and moving towards a door. Thinking that it is time to board the flight, I brought up the rear. But it was just another waiting room. Restlessly rested on a chair there for another long hour. No TV channel could grab my attention. Millions of thoughts flashed through the mind, filling it with hopes and fears.

It was 3.00 pm. The Island Airways passengers queued up at a bus door. The bus headed towards a little plane waiting at a visible distance. We could see the passengers getting down the bus and mounting the flight. The bus returned for the second trip. Together with the rest of my co-passengers, I boarded the bus gazing at the flight. The bus started rolling. The blue under the white top of the fuselage seemed brighter and clearer. The cavorting dolphins behind the nose of the aircraft caught my sight. The minute in the bus is over. We alighted besides the dolphins and had a curious round around the plane before embarking. A cute young hostess in blues welcomed me with a mechanical grin and looking at the ticket showed me the way towards the second window seat from the cockpit. I pleasantly occupied my seat with pride.

My eyes were always engaged in surveying the premises of the airport and the aircrafts in the vicinity. Calls were made to my parents and close friends to share my excitement while the propeller beside me started rotating. A few minutes passed before it moved. A few gigantic planes and airport busses drifted past the window. It took a turn and drone turned into a rumble. Finally we are in the sky above the Arabian Sea with in seconds. The Island Airways flight carrying us sped through the floating clouds heading towards Male International Airport in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

Reign of Numbers

0101101001……… the elements by which the modern world is made of. Pythagoreans are no more wrong. Time has proved that numbers are the only realities. Thanks to information technology and boom in business, world has turned to be digital. Hence all walks of life have begun their struggle for survival; first to fit into the digital world and then to be the fittest. Numbers alone are the criteria to evaluate the success of any enterprise. Digital technology is the best technology; the firm which has made maximum profit is the best firm; the employee who has brought maximum profit to the company is the best employee; the entrepreneur who has made maximum profit is the best entrepreneur; the student who is placed at the highest salary is the best student; the richest man is the most successful person……… Uncountable achievements never count.

So called abstract world of art and aesthetics is no exception in adapting themselves to the binary system. Dutch scientist Nicu Sebe from the university of Amsterdam, has developed an algorithm to dissect the enigmatic smile of Monalisa, with the assistance of researchers at the Beckman Institute at the University of Illinois. They have come to the conclusion that the classic smile consists of 82.67% happiness, 9.17% disgust, 5.81% fear and 2.19% anger.

A few questions that springs forth in my mind at this juncture are: Who is the best husband/wife/mother/father/brother/sister? How can we devise a software to dissect the conjugal/parental/fraternal love? How can we make it measurable? A time may come when a son/daughter makes a digital analysis of his/her parents’ love and says you loved me 35% which is worth 5 lakhs rupees and my duty to you will be over if I pay that amount back.

Bloody Kannur

‘March is the cruelest of months, breeding violence out of violence, mixing hatred and politics’ As the summer sun dries the brooks and rivers, blood streams springs forth. Two legged brutes run hither and thither desperately craving to quench their thirst for blood. Frightened preys flee with their life. Corpses scattered in the public places: sliced, chopped, stabbed. Blood oozing out from the soulless bodies forms gory streams beside the roads. Smiles disappear. Hearts throb. Sobs turn to screams and yells. Tear streams merge into blood streams flooding the roads. Twilight spreads; funeral pyres dwindles; plots starts anew; darkness thickens; hours pass; another gory day dawns…………………………..
Kannur= Name of a place in North Kerala. I wrote this in response to the political violence that was happening there at that time.