Me or Mine

Me or Mine
When I was just a little boy I never asked my father what will I be. Rather he never thought what I should be, but relieve him off the burden of finance at the earliest so that he can breath ease. Now me being a father try to explore every slightest aspiration, talent, wish of my daughter. If she scribbles I go in search of a drawing master. If she hums a song I take her to all talent hunt shows. I don’t want any stone unturned. I always keep a world map in my drawing room, maybe she become a geologist. Even if she skids over water spilt over floor I convince her explaining the physics in it. Maybe that may inspire her to be a physicist. Recently I took her to a barathanatyam concert, she enjoyed. I rather sat through the program remembering of my father taking me to a similar show.
   My Dad got a free pass from his boss. That guy being a gujrathi bohra businessman didn’t mind giving his staff the luxury of attending a barathanatyam concert( which made no sense to that gentleman). As it was free my dad took me along to a massive auditorium where we sat at a corner of the balcony and watched a lone lady( probably ) dance which made no sense to me nor to my father. But now I have learnt to enjoy a barathanatyam along with my daughter.
    Now who’s the best father. Me or mine. I may think it’s me but when I place myself in my father's shoes, I realise the hardships he had to face to make ends meet, his economic status, uncertainty of private employed workman and his fears about future. Though my father can not frame a sentence on his own he made me able to write blogs. It’s he who made me grow into a man who can plan and wish big for my child.
     A father had always been an influencer. Few do big some do small. But everyone leave their mark.
For that man who wouldn't read this blog.
                                                                                                 -A thought the other way round
                                                                                                                 Hareesh Aravindakshan

MODERATION

      "I stand astonished at my own Moderation", came across this quote by Robert Clive in an article. Have read quotes by many great personalities, but this stupid quote kept ringing in my mind as stupids get fascinated by stupid things.

       Remember reading about Robert Clive in secondary school history books. A one liner stating Clive helped the East India Company to establish their rule in India after winning the "Battle of Plassey". Credits to our historians who glorified Clive as a simple pale young man who came to Madras as a clerk and eventually established East India Company rule in the peninsula. The books never mentioned his ruthlessness and greed to appropriate huge wealth. After pondering India he went on to settle in England. There he was put under trial in the parliament for his plundering of India and being the cause for Bengal famine. During his trial, Robert Clive uttered this stupid statement, "I am astonished at my own Moderation". The trial went on and he was acquitted, that's history. Robert Clive uttered these words and went on to rest in his unmarked grave.

        But those words; don't they reverberate in every walk of our life, don't we utter these words everywhere at schools, homes, workplace and even hear from everyone in our families and friends. We all try to establish that "I am the modest one among all those I am connected with". Haven't we admired our own modesty many times.

        Modesty is not a virtue but a practice, whereas most of us end up pretending rather than practicing. Pity is that we never accept doing so, an old joke says,"I used to lack modesty, but now that I have it, I'm perfect". 

        Most of us show modest behaviours with people who are more powerful than us in the society or work place, but never practice the same with those less influential or our subordinates. Moderation should not be choosy but perennial. Modesty doesn't mean giving up, which rather is a kind of cowardice but modesty is a way to accept things the way they are and not forcing ones opinion over others. Ego is inversely proportional to modesty and most of us carry the baggage of ego in one way or the other.

         A person cannot be modest all the time, but if we wish to be we should first start at home, with our own children, spouse and our elders. Developing patience to just listen will help us understand how this world thinks about every little thing in every possible different way. If we can accept that others can be right, it helps us to get moderation as a practice. But nothing to be astonished about, as  always there will be someone else who think or see things the other way.

         The above suggestions are not done after any detailed study or research, but rather with a concern. Robert Clive's astonishment towards his own Moderation has been laughed at for centuries. Let's not make ourselves laughing stocks among our peers, friends and families.

        Let the society be astonished at our Moderation.

              -   A thought the other way round.

    

AHAM BRAHMASMI

The subject for a write-up was decided long ago, but had few questions to be answered before writing. I was amazed by the thought of a transformation on finding the answers, that I would emerge out of the tunnel guided by a ray of hope. But nothing happened so let me share these confusions with few others rather than let the topic fade away.

I have not been pious all my life. But have worshipped every God, animal, tree, and objects which others queued up to worship, thanks to my faith that gave me the liberty, not restricting to a one All Powerful. I pray to Gods when in trouble but readily forget them when things get better.

I spent half my life this way, but not for long. The unexpected happened to humankind which was at the brink of Euphoria that we have known everything. From Genetics to Robotics, Android to Humanoid. A virus took the human race for a ride. The world scrambled for solutions. People distanced from each other, covered their faces, locked themselves behind doors, clapped hands, lit candles and even prayed to their Gods. I too followed all the above.

It had always been tradition for we humans to reach out to the Gods whenever something disastrous happens. This time it was like a supernatural event that prevented us from assembling at worship places. Mankind has always felt safer when assembled in groups, but now groups are considered the most dangerous. Many of my friends isolated altogether, confining themselves to their laptops, mobiles, TV's and washrooms (frequent hand washing). But as always a few took it head on. A Surgeon friend of mine asked "how can an invisible virus stop me from doing what I have thrived all my life, when it is the most needed?"

Yes. How can a virus dictate terms and run the world by bringing the rich to their knees, poor to their verge, the powerful to shatter and all Analogies to fail. Is this the beginning of Doomsday? But one factor gave me a chance to breathe ease. All the infected did not succumb. Many came out without much suffering. What made them so lucky? Is it that the blessed made it and the cursed faded or were the Gods taking sides? A 70 year old recovered after few days of temperature, sore throat and coughs but a 30 year old succumbed showing no major symptoms in the beginning of the infection.

The world was paused and so was commerce. Big Bullies to street side vendors, everyone struggled at their levels. Then, as the saying goes, "If you decide to hang the Capitalist, a Capitalist will sell you the rope". They encashed the fear. Floor cleaners and Detergents emphasized their power over the virus (even a Great President acknowledged). Every manufacturer tried to associate their product with one catchword - "Immunity". Even Bath soaps, tea, biscuits, wash towels and most of our everyday items elaborated their contributions to improve Immunity.

Although a common word, it's significance and necessity was highlighted the most in recent times. It's meaning need not be elaborated, but how and who will acquire it needs elaboration.

Does the one who do regular workouts and physical exercises get full immunity?

Probably not, even a few fitness freaks succumbed.

Are the people with good food habits, planned diets, and no addictions Immune?

Maybe not, as statistics are not convincing.

Are the young more Immune than the elder?

Not necessarily - Indicates the Mortality rate.

Are the vaccinated Immune?

We don't know for sure. But if infected, Mortality chances are reduced.

Now isn't it confusing whether Immunity needs more study than the virus?

Can Immunity be acquired?

Yes. But when is uncertain.

Who can have Immunity?

No special ones. Anybody can.

How to know whether someone has Immunity?

Only when infected.

What determines one's Immune system?

One's Gene, Habits, Lifestyle.

When all these fuss were happening around, I heard a spiritual leader answering questions for his disciplines.

"Can spirituality be acquired?"

"Yes. But when is uncertain."

"Who can attain spirituality?"

"No special one's. Anyone can."

"How to know whether somebody is spiritually enlightened?"

"Only when attained"

"What determines one's destiny?"

"One's Karma."

The last question asked to the guru was,

"Where to find God?"

His simple answer was,

"Search within yourself".

Is not Immunity also the power which we have to find within ourselves? In other words, is Immunity the God within ourselves that we have been searching for so long. Is it not the one going to protect us? Is it not the one going to help us thrive? Is it not the power from the energy within ourselves? Will it be wrong to say, Immunity is the power within us which cannot be measured, realized, predicted, neither created, nor destroyed in a go? Don't we relate all these to the Almighty we believe in? Is Immunity the Aham Brahmasmi we have been searching for?

- A Thought the Other way Round.

Whom Do I Like The Most

         A young colleague asked me casually “Whom do you like the most?”I stared at her and gave a blatant smile as answer. When same question was repeated the next day, though irritated,my reply was the same as before. But this time, the question chose to stay with me. It kept knocking my head. “Whom do I like the most?”....”Whom do I like the most?”.... Arising another question “Whom should I like the most?”

          The “I” in me started deciphering answers of all kinds. As a kid my mother was the one whom I liked the most. I have even starved once to make her wear a new saree and look good. No matter who ever it may be if they were not kind to my mother I have hated them by all means. Even at times my dad had been on that list. But is that the same today? My mother is the same but I am not. Will I starve now to see her dressed well? I cannot skip even an hour as my gastrics won't support. It's not that my emotion towards my mother changed,but priorities did with time. Our needs and priorities even make us stay away for months and years from those, without whom we believed a single day cannot move on. “Like and Love are emotional things don't materialise it” might be the voice of many who read this. But is it not true that emotion and materialism both share the same “T” that is time.

           Time shapes everything. Your likes takes many shapes with time. The like you had for your mother takes a jolt when wife comes into your life. Wife takes a seat back when kids strole in. “How silly?” “My heart has space for everyone” may be the reader's reflux. Yes, heart keeps everyone and everything but who occupies the front seat is the question. “Whom do you like the most?” bangs.

            Parents, Siblings, Friends, Crush, Wife, Children, Grandchildren everyone take the front seat in their own time and turn. But they all get their priorities when “I” need them the most. The “I” in us decides our likes and dislikes. It's the “I” which we always try to cherish, comfort, cradle, convince, and even camouflage throughout our life.

             Many saints and philosophers preached against “I”, but it had always stayed with us covertly and dominantly. Hence I have my answer for the question “Whom do you like the most?” Those who contribute to keep me happy, safe, wealthy, healthy, secured, confident, brave, amused at different times of life, had been the most liked. In other words I have liked those who fulfilled my needs in different ways at different times.

              A fine example being me realised that my daughter replaced my mother gradually over time. It’s not that mothers can be replaced but the warmth of motherhood which I need at this age and time is found in a different person. My needs decide my likes, as “I” am the one whom I like the most.

This writeup may not go well with many as love, like and need are seen mostly as separate things and comparing first two with need is considered inhumane and even a sin. But I wish to be rationale and honest in expressing what I believe as it has always been... 

A thought the other way round

PARADISE LOST

The little boy didn’t knew then, that his maiden car journey was about to change his life forever.

On Feb 06, 1982, the Ambassador car loaded with a few more than its capacity started from a narrow street of then Madras city taking along the clueless boy wherever he is headed to. Until then the 5 year old knew only his one room rental tenantment, opposite a big temple with heavy traffic and noise all around. He liked the way his life was, his daily routines were to visit the temple with any one of his uncles or grandfather in the mornings, attend  a small nursery school and spend  the evenings at the beach or Railway station which were nearby along with his father.

The car drove him away from this routine forever. After a long drive the car halted in front of a hotel “Sri Krishna Bhavan”, though it was late in the evening and the place was new, the hotel got stamped  in the boy’s memory. After a quick dinner the journey was to resume, as everyone in the car were not so accustomed to a car journey, the on-boarding process was a little messy. In the chaos,  the boy hurt his little fingers, when someone tried to close a door. Luckily there were no injuries but the pain was immense.

By the time the boy’s pain could subside the car reached its destination. On an empty road, the car stopped in front of a small metal gate opening up to a big house with blue coloured double doors. It was dark as shutdowns were common in those parts back then too. Light from a Lantern lead the boy to his place of joy and sorrow for years to come.

The house was massive compared to his tenantment. It was built on a 5 feet high pedestal. Four steps lead to the blue doors. When entered through the doors, there was a long passage with rooms on both sides. The passage was of the length of a cricket pitch or more. It was so long that in the later days the boy used to switch on 3 lights on his way to the toilet at the end of the passage and had to run between switching them off to escape the dark at night.

Until then the boy believed a house is a place just to live securely within concrete walls of brick and cement. But this house revealed the true meaning, a real treasure a house can be. The big house had a garden double its size, around its periphery were, 14 coconut trees encompassing  Guava, Mango,Jackfruit,Papaya,Custard apple,Plantain,Pomogranite,Mulberry and many other trees and shrubs along with a huge well. The house itself was an Ecosystem on its own. The boy grew up playing in this garden  along with his cousins and friends. Also a pet dog and  few poultry joined the count later.

The boy’s big joint family moved to this house to accomodate all his uncles and their respective wives and children to come. Everything in the house happened collectively,starting from morning tea to night’s glass of milk. Everyone’s share was fixed and the dietary menus were predetermined,any diversion would disturb the logistical setup. The workshop which made all this happen was the house’s kitchen, the most happening area in the entire house, and the boy’s most loved space in the house. It was busy for most part of the day, with any two women of the house engaged. A vast 15x15 feet room with every kind of utensils and every household stuff stored in all-sized containers which he never ever tried to count.

The other most loved spot was the right corner of the steps at the rear exit doors, where he always liked to sit, whether it was to brush his teeth, sip his tea, play with the pet, involve in a family chat or witness a family quarrel “the spot” he marked for him. (His own spot)

Sundays were always fun, the day mostly began in front of the TV Box and ended the same way. Guests for Lunch was a regular phenomena. Meat or fish in fixed quantity was always sufficient. The Guests were of all kinds intellectuals, rogues,kind, rude, Godmen, conmen, politicians, smugglers, lawyers and many, but the house treated them all with same warmth and the boy grew up observing every visitor from his perspective. Every Sunday the family gathered to watch doordarshan evening movies no matter whatever the movie be, old or new, good or bad, everyone in their own fixed spots with also the boy among them, growing without knowing the word “Privacy” as even at times of melancholy there was someone to either tease or console, but never left alone.

The house played its role in the growth of the boy, both physically and mentally. With time he and his thoughts grew. Everything around changed, but the house remained challenging the changes. The boy had seen many family conflicts happen, but the house stood strong holding everyone in its bond. But when the boy grew to be a man and had to participate in one of the conflicts, the house decided to end the show. The house that stood strong in many challenges started experiencing tremors. It finally gave in to accept the changes. The house which was the bond that united the family became the bone of contention to the boy's dismay.

The Boy now a grown man, who once could not think away from the house now wished to get away from it, as it became the sorrow of the family. The house which was the identity of the family for 30years losts its own identity and stood to be sold to the best bidder who could afford .

The house was too big for families of changed times, so it was rechristened as an old building with no much value, occupying a real estate property worth more than a crore. Where huge funds are involved, sentiments take back seat. As and when a deal was set, the house was demolished to rubbles of timber and bricks. Each member of the family got their fair share, Fortune at the cost of their bond. The new owner, a business man will never realise that the piece of land he gained was a “Paradise Lost”.

The boy who could not budge the lose, came to terms when “Sri Krishna Bhavan”, where he first dined on the way to his house was also razed to rubbles, A paradise lost for some other soul, who had all love and aspirations bonded to the structure, now giving way for another spot that would inspire, may be some little boy to come.

                                               

                   -A thought the other way round.

                                Hareesh Aravindakshan.

காக்கைக் கூடு

எனக்கு ஒரு புங்கையும் வாகையும் கடந்த மூன்று வருடங்களாக நல்ல பரிச்சயம். இரண்டும் கைகோர்த்து என் வீட்டின் முன் அழகாக நிற்கும். இவை கீழிருந்து மேல் நோக்கி வளர்ந்ததை என் இரண்டாவது மாடி வீட்டின் பால்கனியிலிருந்து பார்த்து வந்ததாலோ என்னவோ என் பிள்ளைகளாகவே தெரிந்தன, தினமும் காலையில் எழுந்ததும் இவர்களைப் பார்த்து ஒரு புன்னகை செய்து, குறிப்பாக எதையும் சிந்திக்காமல், அதேவேளையில் பல நினைவுகளை அசைபோட்டு நகர்வது இப்போதெல்லாம் வாடிக்கையாகிவிட்டது.

    அப்படி அசைபோட்டுக் கொண்டிருந்த ஒரு காலை வேளை புங்கையின் கிளையிடையே பரபரப்பாய் இரண்டு காகங்கள். அவற்றைக் கூர்ந்து கவனிக்கும் அளவு என்னிடம் நேரம் இருந்தது. தங்கள் அலகுகளில் குச்சிகளுடன் கூடமைக்க பொருத்தமான கிளையை அவை ஆராய்ந்து கொண்டிருந்தன.அவற்றின் காகப் பார்வையில் அளந்து நேர்த்தியான குச்சிகளை உடைத்தெடுத்த அழகும் என்னைக் கவர்ந்தது. அடுத்த இரண்டு நாட்கள் முழு நேரப் பணியாக கூடு அமைக்கும் வேலை தொடர்ந்தது. அந்த கட்டுமானத்தின் அவசியமும், அதன் அவசரமும் அவை நேர்த்தியாய் அமைத்து முடித்த கூட்டிலிருந்து தெரிந்தது. முட்டைகளின் எண்ணிக்கை தெரியாது ஆனால் சில முட்டைகளை ஜோடிகள் இரண்டும் மாறி மாறி அடைகாத்து வந்தன. இதைத் தினமும் காணும் என்னுள் சில கேள்விகள் எழுகின்றன.

     இவ்வளவு சிறப்பாகவும் பாதுகாப்பாகவும் கட்டப்படும் கூட்டில் ஏன் அவை நிரந்தரமாகத் தங்குவதில்லை. காகங்களின் சித்தாந்தத்தில், கூடு, வாழ்க்கைச் சக்கரத்தில் ஒரு அங்கம். கூடே வாழ்க்கை இல்லை.பெரும் உழைப்பால் பல சவால்களைக் கடந்து அமைத்த கூட்டை அதன் பயன் முடிந்ததும் அப்படியே விட்டுவிட்டு வானில் சிறகடிக்க எவ்வளவு பெரிய மனம் வேண்டும். இதைத் தான் பற்றற்று இருப்பது என்றார்களோ? நான் ஏன் ஒரு கூட்டைச் சுற்றி வாழவேண்டும், இந்த வானமே என் எல்லை என்று சொல்லாமல் சொல்லும் காக்கையின் முன் நான் எவ்வளவு குறுகிவிடுகிறேன்.

     நோன்பு நோற்று காத்த முட்டைகளிலிருந்து வந்த குஞ்சுகளைப் பேணி, சில சமயங்களில் குயிலின் குஞ்சையும் தன்னுடையதாகவே வளர்க்கும் காகம், பிஞ்சு சிறகுகள் பறக்க ஏற்றனவாய் ஆனதும் அவற்றின் வாழ்வை அமைக்கும் பொறுப்பை அவற்றிடமே விட்டுவிடுகின்றது. ஊட்டப்படுவது அல்ல வாழ்வியல், அது அனுபவத்தில் தெளிவது என்றல்லவோ காகங்கள் எடுத்துரைக்கின்றன.

     உணவில் விருப்பு வெறுப்பு இல்லாமல் கிடைத்ததை உண்டு, கிடைத்த மரக்கிளையில் தங்கி, மழையையும் வெயிலையும் ஒரு போலக் கொண்டு, இப்படி எதிலும் ஒட்டாத வாழ்வும் ஒரு வாழ்வா என்று தோன்றலாம். ஆனால் காகங்கள் தங்கள் இணையைச் சாகும் வரை பிரிவதில்லை என்பது பலருக்குப் புது செய்தியாக இருக்கும். தாம்பத்திய வாழ்வில் விதிவிலக்குகள் காகங்களிலும் உண்டு. ஆனால் அந்த கணக்கில் நம்மை விட அவை குறைவு.

   சரி ஜோடியாய் சுற்றித் திரிந்தால் போதுமா சமுதாயக்கட்டமைப்பொன்று வேண்டாமா? "அதில் எங்களை மிஞ்ச யார் உள்ளார் " என்பது போல் கரைந்தது ஒரு காகம். என்ன தான் தனித்திருப்பதாய் தெரிந்தாலும், ஒரு அவலக்குரல் எழுப்பினால் நூறு குரல்கள் சேர்ந்தொலிக்கும். பெருங் கூட்டமே ஒன்றிணையும், நாமும் கூடுவோம் வேடிக்கை பார்க்க ஆனால் அவை கூடுவது தன் இனத்தை மீட்க.

    இப்படி அமாவாசை தர்ப்பணங்களுக்கு மட்டுமே கவனிக்கப்படும் காகம் எவ்வளவோ செய்திகளைச் சொல்லாமல் சொல்லிச் செல்கிறது. இவற்றைக் காக்கையின் இயல்புகள் என ஒதுக்கி விடக் கூடாது. இவை நம்மை இயக்கிக் கொண்டிருக்கும் இயற்கையின் இயல்பு, வாழ்வை இயற்கை அமைத்த வழியில் நடத்தும் ஒவ்வொரு உயிரின் இயல்பு. நாம் இயற்கையிலிருந்து விலகிப்போனதால் வித்தியாசமாகவும் ஆச்சரியமாகவும் தெரிகிறது. காக்கையாய்ப் பரிமாணிப்போம். இயற்கையில் இணைவோம்.

                   -A thought the other way round.

MIGRANTS

Sixteen lives with no much dreams but with mobile phone and few free GB's of internet would have assured their loved ones the previous evening that they have started and will be reaching home soon.

They were the wealth creators though with no livelihood, for most of our big and emerging cities. No one cares for them, no one wants to know about them, no one thinks about them. But without them our economy may slow down, productions may stop, constructions may halt. There is a large sect of these people in our country and we simply call them "Migrants" and ignore.

The word migrant for most of us mean 'labourers' who can be paid less than local workers, those who don't take much off from their work ,who can be kicked out at any time and whom you should never trust. But we all forget to realize that they are even fathers, mothers, sons, daughters and moreover humans. 

Isn't it a fact that we all are descendants of migrants. The human race has been migrating all through the histories that we have known. Europeans migrated to America, many south asians migrated to South Africa and South East Asia, in fact all these people have migrated as the same labour class throughout the world. But those were the lucky days when communication and transportation was not developed phenomenally which helped them to settle down in the new lands and make it their own place. As science developed  times have changed, anyone can reach any part of the world from anywhere in a maximum of 48 hours. As modes of communication have improved people can be in touch with those they like, all the time. Though it's a development it came as a curse for the migrants. As they always aspired to get back to their home which needs their earnings more desperately.

Unlike a century ago, they are not allowed to settle in a place but kept on moving so that they remain migrants and always will be willing to go back to their land. This made the 20 labourer's to walk along the rail tracks to the land far away, where they have hearts to love and eyes to cry for them. How cunningly and deliberately our community is turning Bourgeois.

We read the news, feel a bit, even put up a question "what made them sleep on a rail track?" and forget all about it. Not realizing it's we the society which kept them ignorant of the only use of rail tracks, and even the fact, how tired they would have been to sleep through their death, inspite of the screech of the tracks when trains are more than 100 meters away. We fail to realize these deaths will persuade another 16 men and women to start from their homes as migrants.

This crisis is not going to end in a fortnight, but shouldn't we take a possible small step to give the migrants the dignity they deserve as humans and let the 16 souls Rest in Peace.

I sum up conveying my grief to the train engine driver who would have seen 16 lives cut into pieces before his eyes helplessly. Let his trauma end with time and migrants earn their dignity and rights when the pandemic ends. 

                  -A thought the other way round 

                                Hareesh Aravindakshan