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 

We Stay the Same

       Lockdown- never tried to understand this word literally. Heard of it many times, but experiencing it, hell !!

A pandemic at your doorstep. We have been welcoming everyone with open arms. God's, settlers, invaders, traders, rulers everyone who came knocking. But it cannot be the same way with an infection, but driven by our virtue we all tend to be cool about the visitor. Hope things get in place, we all return to what we call "Normal" at the earliest, but my write-up is not about this.

An interesting fact to be noticed by everybody is that the virus doesn't differentiate people. It gets along with The Heir of a throne and a homeless with equal intimacy. It treats them all as one, i.e., humans (as simple as that). The care one gets after getting infected may vary but cure (medicine) still at same distance for all, which could mean that whatever be your colour, creed, race or wealth nature categorises all as one -humans and picks the fittest.

In such trying times, people are not ready to even give up their small comforts and privileges. People gather up in front of wet markets, some travel even 5 kms to get their preferred brand of atta. But India is a country of diversity, another lot reverse migrate to their soils on foot with their presence squashed and their future bleak, carrying along whatever is left, maybe also the virus to the dusty lands that neither have toilets nor hospitals.

Me being an optimist (many may disagree) had a thought, when all this crisis is over, as anything that begins has to end at some point, the earth would become a Garden of love, compassion, care, and service as the virus has proved many things wrong, which were thought to be the best and dominant, until I heard about the "Spanish Flu".

It was a similar kind of pandemic which had spread across the globe in 1918. It was the year when World War I came to an end. The pandemic took around 500 million lives, along with the Spanish king Alfonso (xiii). Many malnourished, ill equipped passed away. The toll was more than the casualties of the war.

What should have been the world when the pandemic was over, "A Garden of love", wasn't that expected from the worldly creatures? But within just 21 years there was another deadly, inhumane World War with more hatred and disparity. The lesson here is very simple, when a crisis arises, we cry and when it subsides we forget at the blink of an eye.

We try hard to find medicines for the disease, concern not about humanity, but to patent them first. Ventilators and mask made in war footing for export not that they are life saving, but they are the commodities most demanded now. Trade has always defined the borders of our maps. Nothing has ever changed that phenomena, even the present virus situation won't succeed in changing that.

Love and compassion shall come and go. Trade will prevail and determine the destiny of mankind and the planet.

A thought the other way round.        Hareesh Aravindakshan 

HAPPY NEW YEAR

It's new year again,everyone is busy welcoming the new year in their own way. Few at their worship places, many at party lawns and pubs and few in their beds. Seeing all these year after year, the devil in me asked, "what these celebrations are all about?". Have they all foreseen what the coming year has in stake for them or is it going to be fun and merry throughout the year? Had it been so all these years. There are no doubts that our race has evolved with every new year born, for centuries but wasn't that through so many struggles, hardships and sacrifices. Our memories being short lived we tend to forget everything. Just the previous month around 100 new borns have died in a hospital, a month before that a young girl was brutally attacked and killed, some lost their expression, many to lose their identity, are we celebrating these?

When I look back it's not just a year that passed by it's a decade. Though all these counts being just mere numbers, that's how we count our progress and growth. A visionary two decades ago set a goal for the country to be achieve by 2020, are we any where near to that? but that doesn't bother much as goals can be shifted for another two decades.

When the country shifts it's goal the world seems to move in another pace. The GDP's have gone upstream but right to live being saddled by direct and indirect means, as goals for carbon emmission shifted, agreements on disarmament being postponed, governments seem to be more concerned in correcting what they call historical blunders than what they are really expected of. As the lines of Mr. Thomas Jefferson goes " I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past. "Aren't the governments supposed to think in these lines?

But why shall a government restrain from correcting the history when masses seem to be amused with that?  Maybe they even find some comfort in that, you keep correcting the history we keep doing stubble burning may be their say.

This stubble burning keeps me amused every year  at the onset of winter. Though it's not good for the one who burns, neither the one who allows to burn nor the one who never knows what this mess is all about. The show goes on every year and governments promise to stop it the next new year and we celebrate. That's how celebrations have to go on. If this is the case in the nation, in world scenario vast massive forests are being burned down for commercial gains and super powers turn their heads the other way, what else will they do when matchsticks to burn are from them?

Maybe they expect someone to come and correct this blunder in history and plant forests. But isn't it true that nature corrects things much faster drastically to everyone's surprise?

This blog started when I questioned myself " you dumb head! why aren't you wishing people new year merrily and enchantedly, but putting monotonous phrases and smileys?" Answers came in pouring, knowing that no one is going to agree with me not being much merry about Happy new year, penned down a few as I always think the other way round.

                                     -Hareesh aravindakshan.

                                  A thought other way round.