Layers of History

                                               

 
       Every second is a history to the following second. But we can't record the history of every second. The histories that are recorded in a film or in a book are the living versions of the past and they are the snapshots of that particular time and space. Whenever someone sees a film or reads a book, the history just relived in the minds of those people. And the history is also the subjective thing of the recorder of the events and obviously it is the perspective thing of the consumer of those recorded events. Putting it in a simple question, can we rely upon on the things that we read or see a recorded event of a time line? The answer is strictly NO. But I am afraid that we don't have any alternate way to know the past.

   It has been a wonderful journey through the lanes of Delhi in a reverse chronological order in the book 'City of Djinns' by William Dalrymple. It was like waking up daily and walking the same street but here the only difference is the time goes reverse. So, while I walk, the surroundings change drastically each passing day with the rise and fall of empires and kingdoms again and again and when I hit that time line beneath which I couldn't walk anymore as the recorded events were not there, I started retracing my steps only to find the same pattern of rise and fall of empires and kingdoms over and over again.If Time is Linear, why the same set of events (the only change being the participant of the events) happening in a circular pattern?

   Delhi. The City which is the powerhouse of Indian Polity and the center of power for around 1.25 billion people is the most cursed city in the world, I believe. It spilled more blood than any other city in the world in the recorded history in the struggle for power. As always to the any major city, Delhi lies on the banks of Yamuna, one of the main tributaries of the  River Ganges, one of the sacred river of the Hindus. Now, I am wondering Yamuna is so blood thirsty a river that she had drunk more blood than any other river in the world.

   The author started with the 90's life in Delhi in the 20th century and started spinning the wheel of time in the anti clockwise direction. The contrast between the Old Delhi and the New Delhi was so thick that the Old Delhi got struck in the past and the New Delhi was moving on. The surviving cultures of the Mughals and the beauty of the Urdu poetry and the people who are still speaking the pure Urdu are well illustrated. The lamenting of the Old Delhi wallahs against the new punjabi settlers, the complaining of the English people who stayed back after Indian Independence against the Indian Government, the loathing of different cultures and religions against one another seems to be because of the fact that everyone believed that Delhi belonged to them. But, Delhi never belonged to anyone but it is the other way around that everyone wanted to be a part of Delhi.

   The religious tensions between the people of Delhi were uncovered by the massacre of Sikhs in Delhi after Mrs Indira Gandhi was shot dead by her Sikh Bodyguards and  the riots that took place during the partition. A slight provocation in the name of religion could make the people to unveil their masks and show their original identity. Every faith and every kingdom wanted to change Delhi according to their beliefs. But Delhi never succumbed to anyone's.

   One of the best things that English left in India as their stamp is the Lutyens Delhi. This architectural wonder is the power house of India where the Parliament, President's House (Raisina Hill) and numerous high profile ministerial offices located. The anecdotes relating the Lutyens vision of creating a magnificent city in Delhi compared to that of European contemporaries were given precisely.

   The mutiny of 1857 and the subsequent destruction of Delhi's medieval structures by the British gives the real face of British. The writings of William Fraser, Metcalfe and the anecdotes about them gives us the glimpse of British's love for living in India with the then contemporary Indian Culture. The intricacies of the Mughal Buildings like the Red Fort, Qutb Minar, Jama Masjid, Nizam Ud din Tomb, Humayun Tomb etc were beautifully illustrated from the writings of those period's contemporaries. After  ShahJahan was dethroned and his third son Aurangzeb became the Emperor, the Mughal Kingdom started to deteriorate.

   The Eunuchs in Delhi during the Mughal period were patronized by the Royals and some of them were given high positions in the administrations of the kingdom. When the British recaptured Delhi after the mutiny of 1857, these Eunuchs were thrown out of the Royal buildings(like Red Fort) and now these eunuchs are living a life of shame and the current society sees them as Untouchables.

   The Kite festivals, pigeon fighting, poem recitals in Urdu, qawallis, nautch girls dances' are still happening in the alleys of Old Delhi. The dervishes, fakirs, scholars in Persian, Urdu, Arabic are diminishing day by day in Delhi. The city tries to erase the old memories and build a fresh one each passing day. The author got the help from one such scholar named Dr Jafferey who helped him to know the era of Shah Jehan(The golden period of Mughals), the beastliness and the splendour of the Red Fort, the philosophical debates regarding God in each religion, the legends of Khwaja Khazir, the myth of Djinns, the qawals, the faith of the dervishes etc.

   The Tughlaq's rule in Delhi was portrayed by the writings and anecdotes of Ibn Battuta. The city of Tughlaqabad and the subsequent Daulatabad in the Deccan were the capital's of Muhammed Bin Tughlaq. Every war, every conquest to capture the power in Delhi resulted in complete blood shed making the river Yamuna turning Red. It was like she always wanted to wear a Red Saree. During the conquest of Nadir Shah, 150 thousand people were massacred in a single day and this was the time where no furnaces were invented. Hitler would have ashamed of hearing that.

   The book contains majorly of Mughal history in Delhi and the subsequent British but only few glimpses are given to the other rulers. There were little information about Lal Kot, the capital of Rajas before the Sultans. The last few pages of the book captures the prehistoric period. The great war in Mahabharatha, the longest surviving Epic of the World, took place in Kurukshetra around the current Delhi. The authenticity of this Epic and the debates over this were given in the final pages. The family feud which erupted into a massive war resulted in millions of casualties. Delhi was destroyed and created continuously on the cost of thousands of lives. Every time it was destroyed, the blood spilled in Yamuna became a layer in her banks. Each layer formed under the banks of the river is the history of a civilization or a kingdom and She holds the innumerable layers of History. 

The lying Stones

   "What the fuck is this", Yazhini was screaming at her friends while seeing one of the ancient mysteries of the world, the Stonehenge. Her friends also couldn't get the rationale for making this haphazard structure as one of the  greatest civilization remains in the world.

   "This is what they call as one of the 'Prides of England'?, Crazy English People", Yazhini was laughing in a more sarcastic manner. They couldn't simply understand why a million people throng to this site every year. They felt they were duped. They couldn't digest the fact, that some stones which arguably didn't have any structure and have to be considered with an artistic value.

 

   Still the mysteries surrounding the stones are not yet resolved. Some of them are like, how the stones were carried from welsh mountains to the current place and what purpose that ruined structure exactly served. "But, So what? If some thing is unknown, should we have to assume that it is a great thing. That is insane.", Yazhini was arguing with herself. If these 20 to 30 stones structure is considered to be one of the great prides of mankind then the structures in her home country should be considered as the best.
 
   She came from a place of rich ancient culture and in that case, everyone in the world has their own culture and whether the culture is rich or low depends on the man totally who sees them. If the same kind of stones were there in her home country, will it get the same attention as that of now? The answer is fucking No. In her home country also, thousands of stones are there but each with rich artistic value of their own. "Art lies at the hands of the Artist", Yazhini was mumbling through her 2nd round of drinks. "What? What?", her friends asked. "They say that 'Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder' but actually 'We see the art from the eyes of the creator. It is as if we are manipulated by the artist'", Yazhini's eyes were shining  through the bonfire. "Oh! Oh! We have some philosopher ass also here. So Nitya you tell me "If you see the dick of your boyfriend, What do you think?", everyone laughed their hearts out.

      "I feel the English lacks artistic sense and look at the way they market this place around the world. They are the kings in manipulating the minds of the people", Yazhini told in a very languid and sarcastic manner. "Watch out your tongue. You are on the same land", one of her friends spiked the venom in her glass of anger. "So what? Do you think we should accept all the non sense of these so called highly cultured people. You can call me a hypocrite. You know what, if I am a bitch, I will not open my legs for these primitive and retarded people", Yazhini told cheerfully. "And what is that exactly called, Professional ethics", her friends making merry with her and she is also getting into the lighter mood.

   "And Churchill was calling us the primitives. Poor Churchill was not aware of our artistic values. Long live the glory of Churchill and the Crown." And they rise their glasses for the final time of that night and telling cheers "To the Stones".

'HALF', My Life

   'Half a life' is one of the books which took me so many days to complete, not because of the complexities of the writing or the intricate meaning of the words and the plot handled by the author but because of the simple reason, I didnt get much time to read. There could be multiple reasons for it but when I finished the book in a month, I became numb. I was very angry with myself to have completed the book. I had been in a vaccum for some days till I started reading the next book. It might have taken me a month to complete this book but whenever I started reading, from wherever I had left, I could get into the writing of V.S.Naipaul before I could complete the first two lines. That was the knack of writing of this Nobel laureate of Indian lineage.
   Coming to the context of the book, this was a story which was odd and at the same time very close to everyone. I would say, in my aggressive mind, this was the story of everyone. The title itself is telling the story, 'Half a life'. It was the story of an Indian in the mid 20th  century who wanted to become a revolutionist in his own terms but never fully understood the meaning of revolution and who had wanted to sling mud at his own past but didnt know what to do when the same predicaments of the past hit him. This was the story of a rationalist who didnt know that his life was not always carried by his rationalistic thoughts.
   Willie Somerset Chandran, named after the great writer Somerset Maugham ( I wish I could have read some of his writings before reading this book, but nevertheless, will try to read him in some time) was the son of a social outcast who later became a mystic and who had lived a curious life which was funny in a way. Chandran was given his eduction in an English missionary school whose core principles he had began to hate when he was at his secondary grade. He grew up with the principle of not to become like his father who, according to him was a pessimist and an illiterate who didn't have enough courage to face the world with all its worldly meanings.
   After coming to London to pursue his higher studies, he was mesmerised by the city but at the same time his heart and mind were wandering elsewhere. May be all of us in our waking hours doing the same thing. Thinking about something which we like but wont add any meaning to our life at that time and space. I am also one of them. A compulsive dreamer like Chandran. He had a close encounter on the first day itself with Krishna Menon who was then the high commissioner to UK and an representative for India in United Nations and who was there at that time in London to give a speech about the equality of rights for the coloured people in Africa and elsewhere. He didn't give much importance for that matter at that time. Later he realised that he, in London, was not different from those coloured people seeking Asylum in different countries.
   As with most of Indians at that time, Sex outside marriage was a taboo for him. But his sexual craving made him break that taboo and he was caught in many hilarious but funny situations. His tryst with the book writing with the stories that start in a random place and time made me write my first short story 'The Marriage Fever'. Naipaul's humourical sense was more evident in those short stories. As Khaled Hossaini in his book 'Kite Runner' wrote, the essential part of a short story is the irony it contains, Chandran's stories were full of ironies, humour and the societal menace.
   It was the time of cultural upheaval in London where the coloured people were fighting for their rights and that was the time for Chandran to become involved in this revolution in his own way. So when he had seen Ana, he knew that his future would be in her place, in Africa. They got married and went to live in her estate in Africa. The London life was over for him and he had no repentence or remorse for marrying that girl. They were head over heals for each other at that time.
   The later part of the book dealt with the African life of Chandran. Somewhat his life came to a full circle when he landed in that imperialistic country. The unrest Africa was always giving him some rest to his mind, thanks  to his African wife Ana. He was always thinking out of place in that place. The Portuguese colonialism and the mixed race people in that part of Africa reminded him constantly of his homeland. He was there because he didn't have any other place to go. When he encountered girls of 11 and 12 years of age and who had just came to puberty and who had putting their tiny nipples to the mouths of the random people, made him think that Sex was not that he had experienced before. After that he was on a rampage and involved full flegedly to satisfy his bodily needs.
  Finally when he left Africa leaving his wife Ana who had lived with him for almost 20 years, he thought that Africa was not the place he had wanted to live. Now he was homeless and directionless like millions of people around the world. He thought that marrying an African woman would give a sense of meaning to his revolutionistic ideas but after he had lived his life, he thought that he had made some blunder.
   I am not sure what Naipaul wanted to tell by this Novel but as with all the great writers, he put the onus on the reader's perception. Sometimes I thought to myself that as like Willie Chandran, am also a revolutionist who doesn't know what is revolution. Is revolution has a definition? Or is it abstract as most of the things in this world. As George Bernard Shaw has said,"You'll never have a quiet world till you knock the patriotism out of the human race". I am what Willie Chandran wanted in his life and am not sure what he wanted or I want in my life. My own Wilde has put it in different words, 'Patriotism is the virtue of the vicious'. Patriotism and the revolution go hand in hand. One is relying on the other to support one's cause. Finally, I would want to quote the Lenin's words which I read recently, 'There are decades where nothing happens and there are weeks where decades happen'. Is it so? May be. Without the 1857 mutiny, we are not what we are now. May be I will lose interest in these  things when I find them meaningful. Meaningless life makes our world meaningful, in a perceptional way. May be like me, many around the world lives only Half their life.
 

Let the RUN Continues ...

It doesn't matter whether you win this or not. I don't care even if you lose in the early stages also. You will always be remembered as one of the legends of your game. You will always continue to instill the determination and never give up attitude in the millions of people not only from
your country but also across this whole world. Many sportsmen are there in your country but even the people still think that you are the best ever sportsmen of your country.

I haven't seen your first match but I am fortunate enough for having seeing you from the early stages of your career. We grew up along with your every successes and failures in your professional career. It was we who got tired when you ran and ran and ran. Your toiling for a single point even though it
 would not won you the match was the attitude that we have learnt from you that not to lose confidence at any stage of our life.The sweat from you was converted into soft tears in our eyes when you won a match. The same sweat was converted into ever flowing tear in our eyes when you lost a match.

You are the embodiment of hard work, perseverance and whatever adjectives are used to describe your passion for winning. No this is not my obituary for your professional career. We are waiting to win the Ultimate!!! Let the tool in your hand wield magic many more times.

The Marriage Fever

  Sathya was looking at the Full Moon that night and wished that She could hear all the contradictions that was going on in his mind. He had had 5 rounds of large and was smoking on the top of a hill. His 4 friends were still drinking. He just came for a small walk and his mind was full of agitations. He was standing on the top of a boulder inhaling the smoke while hearing the rhythmic flow of water in the middle of the valley down. While exhaling the smoke he was seeing the Full Moon shining with all her brightness. He was not sure whether the moon was just shining or smiling at him.
   At the same point of time, in the countryside below the hill, his parents were worrying about him. It was not that he didn't know about that, the problem was that he could not do anything about it. Though he had had all the problems of a normal guy of his age at that time, from the monetary issues to the heart wrenching breakups, he had been happy. But the mania came with the word Marriage.
   He belonged to one of the lands of Arranged Marriages. He was not a non believer in arranged marriages but he didn't like it. In the first place, he was a sceptic at the institution of marriage itself. He was thinking over all these things when a gentle breeze was putting off the fire in the match sticks while he was trying to light a cigarette. Then he saw the moon as if to complain to her. She winked at him and the small rendezvous with him and the moon started.
   The smiling moon asked, 'Why do you hate marriage? Would you have done the same thing if your love didn't break up?' Sathya thought that the moon knew everything about him and he was on the spot. He coolly replied, 'Maybe or may not be. I don't know. But I would have married that girl because I wouldn't have to loose anything. Sometimes you have to compromise your principles for the larger good and it is that one of those principles which I don't give a big credit. All I think is, of the consequences of following or not following it.Now if I marry a girl whom I don't know, I am not worrying about being my principle is getting compromised, I am just making my life harder by living with an unknown girl.'
   The moon slightly moving with the clouds asked, 'What made you to think like that?' Sathya now lighting a cigarette and had a deep puff replied, 'First, I don't know the girl. I have to adjust to her mentality and she to mine. I am not sure of my physical and mental conditions and I don't want any girl to suffer because of me. I don't want to be responsible for an unknown girl just that she is married to me and I don't want to take decisions for anyone let alone the girl, whom I marry. I don't want to love her just for the sake of obligation. Responsibilities should come after the love but not the other way around.'
   Now the clouds were under the moon but Sathya could figure out that she was studiously listening to him. The words from the moon pierced the covering clouds and hit the ear drums of Sathya. She was asking, 'Will you accept the same girl whom you loved before with your present physical and mental conditions?' Sathya immediately replied, 'I don't know. I have to think of many things and have to discuss about everything with her.' The stillness of the night is disturbed by the shouting from Sathya's friends looking for him. He told to the moon, 'I have to go. My friends are searching for me. I will come to you after having 2 more rounds. Don't go anywhere.' The moon as if accepting his words emerged from the clouds and smiled.
   'Machan, where are you? Come. Sit. We have poured the next round. Lets have it and dance for the latest kuthu song.' They were having the drinks and dancing in the middle of the forest. But Sathya's thoughts were with the moon and he wanted to go back as soon as possible. After having 2 more rounds, he started walking towards the spot while his friends were dancing wildly. He could not see the moon from that spot now. He had to find a new vantage point so that they could continue their conversation. 'May be it is the way of nature. Ever changing.' Sathya thought to himself.
   He found a little rock in the clearings where he could see the moon clearly. He took a cigarette from a new pack and lighted it. He rested his back on the rock and saw the moon. The moon was more beautiful and more shining than the last time he had seen her. He was not sure whether it was alcohol that made him to think like that or otherwise. There were no clouds surrounding the moon now. She started without any preludes from where they left. She asked him softly, 'why can't you just do it for your parents?' He quickly started replying as if he was expecting that question, 'I don't want to jeopardise anyone's life even for the sake of making my parents happy. It's just, I don't like it. I hate all the build ups leading to an arranged marriage. The matching of horoscopes, the clandestine background checks of the families by both sides, the process of going to each other's family to see the boy/girl, the expectations from both sides in terms of money and other obligations and the uneasiness in asking/telling them directly, the obligatory start of the phone calls between the boy and the girl and the idiotic long conversations between them for the sake of understanding each other before marriage.' The moon was astonished to see Sathya speaking so furiously with his eyes seething in anger and disgust. She lovingly asked him, 'why don't you light another cigarette?' Maybe she knew, by burning his lungs with cigarette could reduce the burning of his brain.
   Sathya realised that he was in anger and he tried to cool himself by lighting the pleasure stick. He thought that if he were in his room, he would have cooled himself by doing Onanism, but at the middle of a forest and under the watching eyes of moon, he dropped the idea. Maybe, he was missing his privacy then. The daily obligation of doing onanism was a real stress buster for him.
   The moon broke his chain of thoughts by asking coyly, 'If you are so against all these, why can't you love a girl and live with her by marrying her or without marrying? So you don't have to be under the spell of onan anymore.' Sathya stood straight and was blushing at the moon for she knew everything what he was thinking. He thought to himself, 'One could not think freely with her eagle eyes watching.' He thought over the question again and replied in a brusque manner, 'I would love to.What to do? I think I don't have the skills to woo a girl and I am old and my shyness is not allowing me to do anything.' The moon consoled him by saying that he was not that much old and advised him to get over his shyness.
   The temperature was dipping and Sathya thought that it was going to rain shortly. He had to leave. His friends would be searching for him. The moon with a sense of urgency asked him, 'Please don't go as yet. I have a question for you. Would you worry if you don't get married even after passed the marriageable age or if you will be considered as an social outcast or when every pair of eyes in the society see you with pity?' Sathya laughed out loud and shouted, 'Fuck the society.' The moon also laughed with him and started to recite a small parable to him.
   'One day I asked the Sun, "why don't you give me my full beauty for all the days in a month? Why should I be in my prime beauty only for one day during a month?" The Sun smiled and replied, "If I make you beautiful for ever, then no one will see you and everyone will get used to you. You will get lost in the constancy. Since you are most beautiful in one day only during a month, everyone loves you. And it is not only that, you yourself would not value your importance if anything like that happens. That is the evil of being a constant. It will create complacency and 'taking for granted' behaviour. The longing to become more beautiful and shining makes yourself self conscious about your importance." Then I asked, 'I can understand the waxing part. Why should I take the same time as that  of waxing to get waned. The waning period is the period of my depression every month. Why can't I start waxing, the day after I become the Full Moon?" The Sun replied, "You would not understand the reason if I tell you now. But I will tell with a small analogy for it. Think of your complete waxing and waning as the love making between the lovers. The process starts with the shedding of the clothes, foreplays, the build ups to the climax, the real climax. But reaching climax is not the end of the process. The best part is still to come. The lovers are so much passionate about each other when their energy levels are high and their pumped up nerves are making them to devour each other. When they are deprived of energy and their nerves are limped after the climax, they should look each other in the same passion and the same love in their eyes. That is how you should see your waning period. It tells the system of constant change but with equilibrium. If equilibrium is not maintained at any point of time, everything is just a chaos." '
   The moon finally said to Sathya 'I know, you will have many questions about that short story. We will speak about those later. But always keep in mind that "This time too shall pass." I don't want to give a false assurance that you will live a happy life since you are suffering now. But whatever happens, don't get too depressed. Enjoy your life as it comes. Do come to me anytime. We will talk. Good bye for now. Go to your home safely and sleep.' In the meantime, Sathya's friends came searching for him and all the 5 of them started leaving. When they were half through, rain started with a little drizzle and Sathya saw that the moon was surrounded by dark clouds.
   The sound of the alarm clock makes Sathya to get up but he can't open his eyes. He opened his eyes with difficulty and saw the time, it's 9' o clock in the morning. 'Oh! Shit. 10 o' clock. Status call.' While he is pouringng water over his head while bathing, he started to recollect all the conversation with the moon. He don't know whether all those were really happened or just his delusions. He started to feel his pulse and he is shivering as if he is in a state of delirium. He thought that he is getting fever. But he is not sure. Anyways, he has to go to office that day. He opened the main door and saw that the street is drenched with water. When he put his feet on the water laden street, he heard the news from the Radio in his living room, ' A major accident happened in the hill last night. 5 people died. 3 bodies were recovered from the valley so far. A case of drunken driving has been booked.'

The Bitter Truth

   Some things I don't want to hear or see. The 'India's daughter' BBC documentary is based on the interview of one of the accused in the 2012 gruesome Delhi gang rape case which shook the entire nation and I think for the first time that the whole of India is united and came down to streets to protest for a social cause. Thanks to the development of Social Media sites like FB, Twitter etc.

   On 3rd of March 2015, My mobile screamed at around 11 30 PM. It was a flash news from TOI about a documentary taken by BBC. I opened TOI app to see the full article. I was astonished after reading it and a sense of disturbance clouded over me. I was sure at that time that this would create a huge uproar among the people of India and also in the Parliament and  that Indian Government would ban this documentary.

   At first, I got so much irritated and angered about that guy for speaking such ugly things without showing any slightest remorse. Then, I thought the problem doesn't lie only with him. It also lies with us. It needs a serious introspection of ourselves. What made him to speak like as if he was the ruler and all the women were his subjects? What made him to think about women in the way that he spoke? Who gave him permission to decide the do's and don't' for anyone, let alone for the women?

   Think about the mentality of an MP who told that the Hindu Women should give birth to at least 4 babies. If your leader speaks like an uncultured and intolerant person, who will blame you when you also speak on the same lines? Think about the mentality of the head of a leading organisation under whose support the present government is functioning and who told that rapes are happening in India but not in ' Bharat'. I still don't understand the difference between the two. I am not sure whether any virtual country called 'Bharat' is present in a different dimension parallel to us.  If your leaders are mouthing words without any conscience or prudence, then that reflects the mentality of our society.

  When I read the news sometime back that girls are not allowed to wear jeans in some villages and the sarpanches of those villages were creating this as a decree, I was wondering whether wearing jeans is a crime in Indian Penal Code. And no one is objecting for those decrees by some illiterate idiots. These cronies and the leaders would point history for the present debacle. As I wrote in my earlier blog, our history respected women and at times ill treated also. The exploitation was because of  the following of blind faiths. SATI is one good example. We should not follow anything just because the same thing was there for thousands of years and we should question the things when we are not satisfied even they are in our holy scriptures. Still the taboo of Female Menstruation is prevailing in many parts of the country. These blind beliefs will get us nowhere.

   When the government banned the airing of this documentary, what is it trying to tell? Is it banned because it will influence the social process? Yeah, may be it will influence. In that case, why the government allowed for the interview in the first place? Or is it banned because it will create social unrest and Law and Order problem? I am not sure about this argument. Whatever the reason, the interview shows the mentality of most men in India towards the women. It is the naked truth. Whether we accept it or not, the fact is just that.

   The most important thing is we are trying to hide our misgivings. It is as dangerous as doing it. when a society doesn't want to accept the truth however bitter it is, there is no scope for it to grow. It is as if closing our eyes with a hand and telling that we have blocked the entire Sun with our hands. The Sun is there ever shining and those who want to get your mist of ignorance removed from you can go out and face the heat.

   I want to quote a few of the great Poet's lines.

              ஆணும் பெண்ணும் நிகரெனக் கொள்வதால்
                 அறிவி லோங்கி,இவ் வையம் தழைக்குமாம்

               சாத்தி ரங்கள் பலபல கற்பராம்;

                  சவுரி யங்கள் பலபல செய்வராம்;
                  மூத்த பொய்மைகள் யாவும் அழிப்பராம்;
                  மூடக் கட்டுக்கள் யாவுந் தகர்ப்பராம்;
                  காத்து மானிடர் செய்கை யனைத்தையும்
                  கடவு ளர்க்கினி தாகச் சமைப்பராம்;
                  ஏத்தி ஆண்மக்கள் போற்றிட வாழ்வராம்;
                  இளைய நங்கையின் எண்ணங்கள் கேட்டிரோ;

Will the great Poet's Dream ever come true? 

The meaning of Death

   I don't know why it took me so long to write this one. I have been meaning to write about this for quite some time. The freedom of expression not only speech is the need of the hour. This has been included as the fundamental right of a citizen of India in our constitution under the Article 19.

   What was your thought when you had heard the news of the death of Mr Perumal Murugan? What made him to announce that he had already died. He had written a book named 'Madhorubhagam' in Tamil which was released some 4 years back. At that time, there were no issues. But When it was translated to English and released last year, some sections of the society raised flag against the book condemning the writer and the book's contents. He was threatened and he had had to run for his life literally.

   I do believe that for an artist nothing is more painful than seeing his art destroyed or desecrated. So when the copies of the book were put into fire, there burnt not only the paper but the man himself. How are we getting identified in this world? The means of identification of a human is by his mind only. The centre of everything is our mind. So when the mind's acts are destroyed , it is as good as killing the man himself.

   Our body is a biological material. It will decay one day or the other. When Mr Perumal Murugan told that he had died, it meant that the society that we are living had destroyed his mind. He is now living just as a machine. The excruciating pain that he had endured and is still enduring has no limits. It is too big a sorrow to express and to assimilate. The society had killed him mercilessly and we are living witnesses of this heinous act.

   This is not one stray incident that has happened. The killing of Mr Narendra Dabholkar is another one that I want to emphasize. He was a rationalist reforming people against the evils of superstitions and black magic. He drafted the Anti Superstition and Black Magic Ordinance in Maharashtra. He was lobbying for the bill to get passed in the assembly for many years.Not a single debate were made on that draft. But, ironically, the Maharashtra cabinet promulgated the bill within 4 days after his death. It took his life to clear the bill. He was shot at point blank and was died on the spot. Still, the miscreants are at large. Long live the Police system of this country.

   I want to stress about the intolerance that our society has. Because of this, we had lost Mr Salman Rushdie, Mr M F Hussain and many more. We didn't spare Mr Kamal Haasan also. Adding to these, there are many who don't want to come out in public about the harrasments they suffered.

   The killing of RTI activists, rationalists, scientists, writers, artists etc is the vogue of our time. After all of them are removed, what are we going to do? Becoming a Saint? Preaching Religious principles? I could not suppress my laugh when I imagined myself as a saint or a religious man. It would be the last thing that I want to do in this world. And if I do that it would be the biggest irony of me and I would become the greatest hypocrite of this world.

   I don't want to criticise our whole society or the government. At least we are not living under a draconian government or military dictatorship or under the rule where all our day to day activities from farting to fucking are scrutinized by the government. We are the biggest democracy and we are proud of it. But we should not  dwell on the past or satisfy ourselves by seeing those who are below us. We are better off than most of the countries. Alas, we have so much to improve.

The Conundrum of Civil Nuclear Deal

I am hearing flash news that the civil nucler deal between India and US has been finalized. If that is the case, India has made history not one but two times.

It all started in 2005. For any country to grow, it should attain self sufficiency in energy sector.Owing to the lack of this, the then Prime minister of India Dr Manmohan Singh initiated a civil nuclear deal with US. Before going into that, let us understand the India's nuclear ambitions and its projects since independence.

During the Indira Gandhi's régime, India tested its first nuclear test called the smiling Buddha. After doing this test, many developed countries imposed sanctions on India. Literally, India didnt get any nuclear material from any country. The sharing of high end technology in this sector was also stopped to India by all the developed countries. The condition worsened with our pokhran tests inviting fresh set of sanctions. As our erstwhile nuclear strategist, Mr K. Subramanyam put this situation as 'nuclear apartheid on India', Dr Manmohan Singh made a point to remove this injustice by initiating the civil nuclear deal.

During his first tenure as the prime minister of India, our Oxbridge Octogenarian Prime Minister risked his job to get this deal done. It took three complete years to get the deal done not without so much drama in our political arena. By mid 2008, India and US inked the civil nuclear deal. That was when India made history for the first time in this civil nuclear deal. I would rather say Dr Manmohan Singh made history ending the nuclear apartheid on India. It means India will get the nuclear material and high end technologies for civilian purposes without compromising India's strategic interests in nuclear research.

I would like to quote some anecdotes of this deal during the Manmohan Singh period which I had read in the book 'The Accidental Prime Minister' by Sanjaya Baru. After an all party meeting in the prime minister's residence debating this deal, our ex prime minister Mr Vajpayee personally  praised Dr Singh in private for making the country proud by signing this deal for which Dr singh humbly  replied that he had completed what he(Vajapayee) had started in his period. That was the statesmanship of our ex prime ministers who were poles apart in their ideologies but united for the country's sake.
One more interesting incident during a press interview with Dr Singh. The left parties were against the deal from the start as they believe that if the deal was signed anytime then it would meant that India was sold to US. When this question was raised by a reporter, Mr Singh retorted " Do you think any prime minister would sell a country consciously or unconsciously. We know what we are doing. Nobody can teach us patriotism."

Although BJP was against the deal initially, it approved the deal after many debates in the parliament, all party meetings etc. After inking the deal, there came the problem of operational difficulties. There were many clauses in the deal which India and US were not on the same page. So, although the deal was signed, there were several roadblocks in operationalizing the deal. One main issue was with the liability of nuclear providers if any accident happens. If the break through has happened as quoted by the news channels, then our Prime minster Mr Modi also has made history by solving this complex conundrum of civil nuclear deal. It took almost 10 years to complete the deal. I would say this deal as "Man-Modi" civil nuclear deal. Proud day for India. Let this nuclear deal solves our energy problems. Way to go Mr Modi.

Salutes to all the gentlemen who helped to make this proud moment possible.

The MADNESS called the MOB

       In the whatever path, the human civilization has been travelling since time immemorial, there is only one thing that is common. The MADNESS of the MOB.We are taking pride in ourselves that we are the most civilized animal in the world. May be it is true. But I am skeptical about that.

        Life is stranger than fiction, somewhere I red. Is that so? Lets analyse. First of all, What is fiction? How is it getting created? And who creates it? It is the humans' brain that create fiction. It is purely subjective and there is no involvement of the external forces. To create a fictional story or whatever novel or anything, humans have to think. So, how big or how long one could go in this in both Good and Evil terms? There are many Good intentional stories like extra terrestrial life etc. At the same time there are many gruesome stories which are also the product of human thinking. There are many scientific inventions and at the same time there are many fantasy and fairy tales created by the human mind. So to put it in simple words, whatever people do whether it is a rational thing or a very stupid thing, everything is based on their thinking. So, thinking is the source of everything which the human race does. Is it a fair argument?

        Now, lets come to the things which are done by humans while in a group (MOB). If the above argument is right, then whatever being done by the humans are based on their thinking whether they are alone or in a group. Lets take an example of the 'A Train to Pakistan' novel by Khuswant Singh.
It is based on the horrific massacres that had happened during the Partition of India and Pakistan. I still clearly remember one incident. One community Mob had separated a newly married couple and cut the Penis of Husband's and gave it to his wife as a wedding gift and the cut the breasts of of wife and gave them to her husband as his Wedding gift. Do any human in his/her right mind ever think of that when he/she is alone? The answer is definitely NO.Whatever may be the cruel person he is. This is just a random incident. There are many more horrendous and inexplicable things which were done
by humans to the fellow beings all around the history.

       I am skeptical about the man who has done those evils would do the same when he is alone and even when there is a chance to do that.So why are they doing it when they are in a group? The reason I would think is that a sense of madness, absurdity arises when people are in a group
and adding to that there is no sense of individual accountability in a group. That is where the real problem lies, no sense of individual accountability.

      "A worst dictator is better than a terrifying Mob".In the former, we can somewhat conclude on his devious ways but when it comes to the latter, we will never be able to figure
out the outcomes. It is only randomness that will prevail in a Mob!!!
"Monarchy is sometimes better than the absurd Anarchy".