The fifteen year old sat beside me and let out a disappointed sigh. I looked at him with a question in my eyebrows. He complained "I want to write about my life but I don't know where to start". The appropriate response for this complaint rose in my head. "Why don't you start at the beginning?" He gave me an annoyed stare. I smiled and started typing out the following words. As I typed, I read it out to him. By the end of the second sentence, he started writing in a notebook. The exercise did not hold his interest beyond that evening but my journal got richer by a post (or is it a past?).
I don't remember a thing about the day I took birth. Actually, I don't remember a thing about the first year of my life. To tell you the truth, the details of my first five years of life are sketchy. I remember bawling as my uncle threw me into the Kindergarten school. The school was named "Isabella" and from that day, I lost my trust in organizations with the name "Isabella". I remember the house I stayed in - my grandmother's house, when I was four. The house was by the railway line and it had a long window at the front. I remember being taken to a movie in Palakkad and hating the movie. I think it was the Malayalam movie "Nellu". I don't remember anything else. But my parents and grandparents have filled in the gaps with a few stories. The first one I heard was about me getting lost in a tea plantation in Ooty. They keep mentioning that I could have been lost forever but by God's grace I was found.
The second incident took place at my great grandparents' house in Chittoor. One evening I was running up and down the veranda outside the house and I fell down. The right side of my head crashed on the terracotta tiles that lined the floor. A wound opened up and a blood started pouring out. My parents picked me up and took me to a hospital. Pus started collected around the wound and soon my face bloated up into an ugly lump. I could not see anything and my parents and the doctor sat around me worried. Around midnight I called out to my parents and said "I can see a small light there and it is becoming bigger". My parents and the doctor turned around and looked out of the window and saw a car approaching the hospital. The doctor heaved a sigh of relief and said "Thank God!".
We used to stay in a house on the side of a main road near Olavakkod railway station. There were three or four houses in a row and though there was no one of my age in these houses, being the only child in these houses, I became the star of the place. This meant that I could walk into any house at any time and expect to be entertained. Every morning, as my father left for office, I ran out of the house. I walked into the neighbour's home calling her name (which I believe is "Sharadae"). I had to be dragged back home at lunch. One morning, I locked my mother in the bedroom and walked away. My mother called out my name desperately but I continued to walk away laughing. My mother was scared out of her wits. She called out for help for a few minutes. The maid in the next house heard her call and came running. She opened the door and my mother ran out to the neighbour's house where she found me munching a murukku happily. My mother dragged me back home and ensured that my backside turned pink.
I spent a miserable year of my life at a school in Palakkad. I was in first standard and I have never worked on my homework like I have done in that year. As a result of that one year, I hate homework even now. For most children, no learning happens through homework. It only exists to make the grownups believe that the children are working and learning. I used to go to the school in a horse-cart (kuthiravandi driven by a kuthiravandikaran). I don't have any memory of the journey to and from the school or my friends and teachers at the school. Fortunately, it has all been overwritten by other trivial matters. But I will never forget this one incident from that year.
I was walking out of the school gate one afternoon when I saw the kuthiravandi leaving. I tried to stop it but no one noticed me. So, I stood by the road wondering what to do. The hot afternoon sun was frying the insides and outsides of my head. Probably as a result, I started thinking about the route from my school to home. A few minutes later, I realized I knew how to get home from the school. So, I started walking. I spent the next hour or so walking the four kilometres that separated the school from the telephone exchange (the fourth and fifth floors of the exchange were reserved for staff quarters).
When I reached home, I did not think it important to tell my mother that I had missed the horse-cart and had walked home and went about my post-school time life peacefully. About an hour later, the kuthiravandikaran arrived at our doorstep and announced frantically to my mother that her son was missing. My mother refuted the claim by saying "no he isn't; he is lazing inside". The kuthiravandikaran recounted what happened. My mother came in and asked how I had reached home. I responded casually "I walked home". I don't have to explain the actions of the next few minutes. At that point, I did not understand why my mother was making a big deal of this trivial incident. Years later, as I travelled along the route, I shuddered thinking how I would have felt if I realized that my five year old son had walked alone on these busy roads. There are two questions that remain unanswered in my head though.
How was I so sure about the route?
What the hell is wrong with that kuthiravandikaran?
A news popped on my mobile at 1:30 pm. It informed that the virus had decided to take away a great singer from us. I started watching one of the news channels on the television. Many film personalities expressed their sadness to the channel through phone calls. One of them could not control his sadness and burst into tears. An interviewer on a YouTube channels was interviewing someone I could not identify. Though I had seen the interviewer earlier, she was barely identifiable for she had drowned her face in sadness. The interviewee turned out to be the winner of one of the super singer programmes. He talked through his tears. The interviewer requested him to sing a song. He protested "how can I sing in this state?" He talked for some more time before breaking into an unfamiliar song that the great singer had sung. Two lines into the song he broke down. The interviewer had tears running down her cheeks too. I got off the channel and decided to listen to some of his songs. I decided to avoid YouTube, which had the annoying tendency to insert advertisements between and sometimes in between the songs. I checked Amazon music, which listed a list of Telugu movie songs sung by the singer. I was not in a mood to listen to songs from movies with names like "State Rowdy". I checked the Amazon Music's list of best songs by the singer. The first song in the list was from the Superstar's latest movie and the second was the Hindi version of "Pudhu Vellai Mazhai". I did not think either of the songs fit into singer's "best songs" category. But I was running out of patience and chose the second song. The song played in the background as I went on with my life.
Later that evening, I watched an interview of the singer. It was claimed to be one of his last interviews. He did not look old in the interview. He seemed a few years older than me but his voice sounded much younger than mine. I realized that I had never seen his interviews before. Fifteen minutes into the programme my phone rang and I ended up speaking to the person on the other side for 35 minutes. I did not go back to the interview. The singer recounted the incidents of his life in an amusing manner. He seemed adept at mimicking voices of different people. From time to time, he sang some of his songs. His voice sounded marvellous. The songs filled me with sadness. He could have continued to sing for another ten years. The virus had cut short the lives of many by about ten years. A generation was fading earlier than they should have. I felt older by a generation.
Later that evening, I told my teenaged son "I will tell you something but you should promise not to mention it to anyone". He looked at me suspiciously. I continued "during my college years, I was approached by a music director. He informed me that the great singer had undergone an operation and was unable to sing. He had heard that my singing sounded similar to his and requested me to record a few songs. I was shocked for I never sang - not even in the bathroom. I told the music director so but he ignored my words and pushed me into his car. He took me to a studio. I recorded nine songs in the coming weeks but these were not released under my name. One of them was a big hit too. The music director asked me promise to not sing well from that day. My son, now you know why I sing so badly". I saw boredom on my son's eyes as he looked at me. I asked him to promise that he will never tell this story to anyone. He responded "Don't worry. I will never utter this nonsense to anyone." I shook my head in sadness and walked out of his room.
Sometime that night, I woke up suddenly. My mouth and throat felt dry. Though the night had started cool it had lost it coolness and I was sweating profusely. As I reached out for the water bottle, I heard someone clear his throat from the foot of my bed. It did not sound like my son. I felt a chill run through my spine. I got up and looked into the angry face of the great singer. I tried to scream but could not. The face came floating towards mine. His face was so close to mine that I should have felt his nose touch mine but I did not feel it. I did not think it as odd as I felt it was odder that the face did not have a body underneath. I thought I was in a dream but I was not sure. The singer sang "So, you sang ten of my songs is it?" I mustered enough courage to correct him "Not ten; only 9." He continued singing "Oh! Only 9 and it includes that famous song of mine too, is it?" I did not respond for an odd thought had risen in my head and I could not control myself from asking it. So I asked "how are you able to sing when you are only a face with no throat and lungs?" For a few moments I waited for fire to emit from his eye but it only glowered. He continued singing "Tell me the truth! When did you sing these songs?" I responded "Oh, that was many years ago. I was in college then". He did not sing for a few minutes but continued to glower at me. I looked at the water bottle standing beside me and asked "Do you mind if I have a sip from the bottle?" He sang "drink and then sing for me that song". I reached out for the bottle and brought it to my lips through the singer's face. I took a few swigs of the water. I placed the bottle back on the side table and started singing.
Five words into the song, the singer shouted "Stop!" I could not help but utter "You did not sing that word". The anger in the singer's voice gave way to amazement as he sang "which college did you go to?" I responded "Guru Ghasidas Vishwavidyalaya". The singer sounded confused when he asked (not sang) "What! Where is this Guru college?" I responded "Bilaspur". He went back to singing when he asked "... and you say that you sang these songs at Bilaspur". I confirmed "yes, at Bilaspur. In a studio on the first floor of an old brick building in New Bilaspur Market". The singer smiled and sang "Your imagination is better than your singing. You should write and not sing." I felt three pats (not slaps) on my cheek before the face disappeared.
"Something's wrong with that lizard. It's not moved for a long time now. I went close to it and slapped my foot on the floor but it did not move. I think it's dead."
I looked at the immobile lizard for a few seconds. I went closer. Nothing! I wondered what my next move should be. The voice that had informed me about the lizard continued "I hope it does not turn out to be like that bird." The voice was referring to a pigeon. A few days back, we found a pigeon sitting at the edge of the balcony looking at the world. It looked weak. For a moment, I thought it was planning to kill itself by jumping off the balcony. Then I remembered that pigeons possess the ability to fly and so jumping off a tall building would not help the pigeon attain death. But the pigeon did not look well at all. I looked at it for some time before getting back to my life.
Next morning as I walked into the dining hall, I heard the words "The bird's dead". I looked through the small window that opened into the balcony from the dining hall. The pigeon was lying on its back with its legs pointing heavenwards. From where I stood, it seemed that the pigeon's head was crushed under a piece of wood. I opened the balcony door and walked out. I was relieved to see that the pigeon's head was intact. Apparently, it had died of a natural cause. My relief was short lived though. I started worrying about my course of action. I prefer to leave dead creatures alone. Unfortunately, they have this nasty habit of decomposing, which leads to foul odour spreading across great distances. So, I had no choice but to dispose the dead pigeon. I used a plastic cover to pick it up. I took it downstairs and requested the housekeeping staff to give it a decent burial.
The lizard continued to remain still. I took a step closer and slapped my right foot against the floor. The lizard did not react. I was worried now. I did not have the resolve to deal with another death. I rolled a newspaper and tried touching the lizard with it. The lizard moved away. Relief spread across me. The lizard was alive but something was wrong. The lizard should have run towards the ceiling as soon as it saw the roll of paper coming towards it. In this case, it moved away a little and continued to remain still. I observed the lizard for some more time. The tip of its tail had turned black. I wondered if that meant something but did not know much about lizards to know for sure.
My earliest memory of lizards is a lizard standing still close to the tube-light looking at I-have-no-idea-what. Actually, I am not sure if the lizard was standing still or sitting still. As I rummage through my memory, I realize that I have only seen lizards running or not running. I am not sure if in the "not running" state the lizard's standing, sitting or lying down. I have been fortunate enough to notice lizards flash out their pink tongue and arrest an unaware insect passing by. Though I am sure that the lizards do this regularly, I have only seen this happen after the rains. Usually, a day after the rains, the house gets flooded by those annoying insects, which look like ants with wings. The insects swarm around the tube-light like the Mughals attacking a Rajput fort. The smiling lizard stands at one of the tube-light looking at the insect with a glint in its eyes. After surveying the field for a few minutes, they start sprinting towards the other end of the tube-light. At some point during the run, the lizard captures an insect and stuffs the insect into its mouth. Apparently, lizard mothers are not disciplinarians like their human counterparts. They let their young ones stuff their small but wide mouth with large portions of food and don't mind if the young one does not chew the food. The lizards I observed did not chew their food at all; they move the food around their mouth for a bit and then gobble it. The food is not even dead when it starts it journey downwards. But the lizard can't afford to sympathize with its food and gives a contented smile as the screaming insect reaches its stomach.
For a long time, I did not like lizards. I found the colour of it's skin revolting. More than the colour, there is something disturbing about the texture of its skin. I have never touched a lizard but just thinking about it makes me shudder. To make matters worse I kept hearing news about children falling sick due to the presence of a lizard, obviously dead, in their food. For some reason, the lizard that died in the food got the blame for this calamity and not the people who let the lizard into the food. My impression of the lizards changed on the day I sat reading a book by P G Wodehouse in my house. Suddenly, I heard a lizard's say something from above my head. I turned around and looked up. A lizard sat on the wall. It was looking intently at my book with a big smile on its face. When I looked at it, its smile became longer and it gave me a nod. I nodded back and continued reading. The lizard kept pace with my reading and our laughs coincided with each other's. These days I look at lizards with affection and at times, have tried to offer them books to read. Sadly, I have never found another literate lizard.
An hour later, as I was sitting on the floor working on the laptop, I found the lizard besides me. It had moved half a metre in the past hour. It continued to stay absolutely still. I decided not to disturb it and let it ruminate about whatever it was ruminating. A few minutes later I looked at the lizard and thought it had moved its head a little to its right. It continued to stay besides me in that position for the next couple of hours. Two hours later I bid the lizard good night and went to sleep.
The next day, I did not remember about the the still lizard till someone mentioned "What's wrong with that lizard?" The lizard had moved five or six metres and had parked itself in the TV room. It continued to remain immobile. Something was definitely wrong with the lizard but we did not know what.
We have not seen that lizard since.
That was how this piece was supposed to end but I saw the lizard again last night. It is alive still. It has lost some of it stillness and is moving around but at a pace slower than the average lizard pace.
The lockdown got extended a third time and so we are living through Lockdown: Brahma cycle 2. I wonder if we will go through the Vishnu and Siva parts of the second cycle too. The way the numbers rise, it seems likely. Yesterday, the first day of the new lockdown, there were 5200 new cases and 157 deaths in India. The overall number of cases in India has crossed one hundred thousand and deaths are at 3000. Tamilnadu continues to see increases of five and six hundred cases every day.
... and so, we wait and watch with the rest of humanity.
People have started moving around, not as much as the pre-lockdown days but definitely a lot more for lockdown days. Offices have opened with minimal staff. Shops are kept open for longer periods. Non-essential shops have started opening. In one of the reports, they showed a shop selling electronics (not electrical) equipment open in Thanjavur. A few shop owners stood in front of their shops wondering if they could open the shops. The news channels had announced that the Government has permitted shops to open but the formal notice from the Government was not available. This meant that the police might fine the owners heavily if they opened their shops. Worse, they could destroy some of the items in the shop.
Time and again the lockdown has brought out the Government's inability to think through decisions and to provide information clearly. The migrant crisis is a prime example for this. None of the Governments thought about them Worse, the crisis struck them on the very first day of the first lockdown and yet one and half months later, they have not done much to resolve this issue. I realise India does not have all the required resources but we have enough to transport people who are ready to walk hundreds of kilometres back to their homes. I mean, if Sonu Sood could singlehandedly transport five hundred people home, why can't the Government do a better job. Much later, he chartered a flight to transport people from Kerala to Odisha. Why do the Governments not have the will, perseverance and interest that Sonu Sood has shown? Unlike him, it is the Government's responsibility to take care of its citizen. India's bane will always be its people's utter lack of regard for the word responsibility.
The migrant crisis, as it is called, has shaken my faith in the concepts of "India is my country" and "unity in diversity". I have stayed in a few places around the country and during that time, I considered the place I stayed as home. I did not have a place to go to when difficulty struck. Till now, I thought everyone thought so too. But I was wrong.
At times of crisis, the celebrities are supposed to come out and help the society. I am not sure why they need to but they are expected to. It probably is the vestiges of socialism that continues to exist in our society. The rich should help the poor. But not many realize that rich and poor are relative entities and the statement implies that almost everyone should extend a helping hand. But we hide behind the tree called celebrities and let them be responsible for helping the needy. Many of the bigger celebrities had no choice but to do their bit. Some sent money to the various funds and posted tweets encouraging the Janata to strive through the tough times. A few actors posted videos about their contributions to the upkeep of their respective homes. They were seen clumsily sweeping their floor or washing vessels in their kitchens. One or two shoved their head close to a vessel of boiling sambhar and said "I made it".
The discussions about the actions of the celebrities during such times brings a question to my mind. What should one do to be considered socially conscious? I don't necessarily mean considered by the society but by oneself. During such times, a few aspects of my own character get reiterated. I am not a socially conscious person. I will never get outside my house and do anything for the needy. I will sit at home and type out such long and pointless thoughts. I have nothing to offer to the society. Three years back I thought I was at the beginning of a journey to "give back" to the society. Now, I don't even know what "give back" means and I look back at myself as a pompous fool. That was only a career change and nothing more. Worse, I don't even feel guilty of being such a socially non-conscious person. At best, I feel guilty that I don't feel guilty.
A major part of my life was spent in trying to be a good person. At some point of time, I realized I am not as good as I thought I was. I knew this all along but I only realized it at that point. The realization shocked me but soon I started revelling in being a person who was not as good as I thought I was. Today, I am selfish person who is not considered selfish by many as the planet I reside in is filled with many who are selfisher. But there are advantages in being selfish and not going out to help the needy. The most important being that one has the time to think up such nonsense and sometimes worse too. Like the one that struck me at dinner time one day "Tooth is pronounced two-th and yet it is the singular for teeth."
I considered naming this write-up Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Gham but I hate that movie and did not want to insult this write-up by applying that title. The title suits the lockdown period though. An ocean made up of droplets of happiness and sadness - Moments of happiness peppered moments of normalcy and sadness.
The mother called out to his son. The son shouted back "What?". The mother said "Save". The son did not understand. He gave her a blank stare. She reiterated "Save". He asked "What?" She responded "Save" angrily. He turned around and looked at me helplessly. I laughed. He shrugged and walked around the dining hall. I asked through the laughter "What are you trying to save?" He stared at me menacingly. I continued to taunt him "Go on! Save". He asked me desperately "What does she want me to Save?" I picked a packet of snacks from the basket on the dining table and said "Save the sev boy". He smacked his head and said "Oh! Savoury". I pointed at the packet and said "This is the sev of sev puri". He shook his head and walked away.
Death is a faithful companion of our life. It never leaves our side and is ready to take us into its arms at every moment. But every time we perceive its arms close by we try to shove it away. As one gets older one starts perceiving its presence more and whether we like it or not with every passing day our perception of death increases. Not just due to the thought of one's own death but that of our nears and dears too. To top it, the pandemic has only increased its prominence. During the last five months, the world has focussed almost entirely on the three and a quarter hundred thousand deaths.
The above number means roughly sixty five thousand deaths a month or twenty two hundred deaths a day, which means on an average one hundred persons are dying every hour around the world for the past five months due to this pandemic. This number by itself is not accurate. We are unaware of the many deaths caused by the virus that are not reported. I saw in the news about the increase in the number of deaths in a place called Malegaon in Maharashtra. During April 2019, around one hundred and fifty bodies were buried in a Muslim cemetery in Malegaon but this April, the number has increased more than three-fold. There is no explanation for the cause of this increase. There could be many more who have died due to the virus without the world being aware. We are not even sure of the percentage of error in the above number.
Not all the deaths were related to the pandemic. Some happened on the side lines and was not noticed by many. Some of these cases were in many ways sadder than the number displayed above. A number of television personalities decided to end their lives. Closer home, a death once again brought to light the insensitivity that pervades our society.
I did not know him. I had heard about him from a friend of his sister. I thought he had a family but I was wrong. He lived alone with his mother in Gujarat. A few days after the lockdown commenced, the mother died. I had written about this death in one of earlier write-ups. None could travel to attend the funeral and he had to take care of it alone. He had lived with his mother all his life and now she was not with him. He felt lost! The pandemic and lockdown did not help. He could not reach across to anyone and no one could come over to help him either. He was not friendly by nature and as a result did not have many friends nearby. This perceived unfriendliness of his resulted in his relative not trying to comfort him. He found it difficult to accept that his mother was not alive. Though he managed to cremate her, he did not find the strength to take care of the rituals (kriya karam). His relatives coaxed, begged and even threatened him to conduct the rituals. One of his uncles was cruel enough to threaten him with "a dog's death". But he kept delaying it. Finally, he told his brother-in-law "I will take care of it tomorrow". Three days later, he was found hanging from a ceiling fan in his mother's room. He had used his mother's sari to end his life. The pandemic and lockdown ensured that none could attended his funeral either. His nasty uncle's words have come true. The suffering has ended for him. His body is of no use for him and it does not matter to him if rituals are or were conducted. Actually, he can be sure that all the necessary rituals will be conducted else the ones who are left behind could also "die the death of a dog".
Little Richard and one of the founders of Kraftwerk, Florian Schneider, passed away during the lockdown season. I love Kraftwerk. They were my introduction to electronic music and during the eighties their music was heard frequently in many documentaries on science. An advertisement for "Coldarin" used a sample from their song "Space lab". Death of these musicians reminds one of one's own age and how our past is truly in the past - The past in nothing but the set of memories present in our heads.
Now that I have covered the gham part, let me proceed happily into the kushi part. The WhatsApp statuses keep me amused for few minutes every day. I was not aware of its existence for long. But once I got to know of it, I was hooked by it. I did not understand the point of posting something on this tab but nevertheless I liked to look at the page at least twice a day. I even posted a few status entries. I have the habit of making up statements with words that flow into my head involuntarily. For example, I once wrote "Simon turned around, looked at the Prince and said 'if all us remain the way we are born, the world would have been a good place to stay in'. The Prince responded 'what rot!' Simon shook his head in agreement 'yes its all rot'". Well! It's not truly involuntary but it's not planned either. I just let the previous words decide the next one. I mean it does not have to make sense but it should be seemingly sensible and on lucky days, even profound.
There are different types of status posts
Quotes with photograph or picture in the background.
pictures and words on events in one's lives.
An ardent supporter of BJP, places articles and words favouring the party. Many a times, he spews venom against people who criticize the Prime Minister. Recently, he taunted the Prime Minister a few times for not being his usual self.
There is another who loves to post his own pictures. At times, a few of his family members are fortunate enough to be a part of the frame too. In every picture, his expression is the same, his eyes opened wide with his eyebrows raised to its limit and an exclusive-for-the-photograph smile on his lips.
Another person posts pictures and videos of him working out.
Many use this space to remind us of gods and godmen. Thus Jesus, Saibaba, Siva, Vishnu and the Shankaracharya who is referred to as periyavva constantly vie for my attention.
At the other end of the spectrum Vadivelu and Goundamani appear frequently as a part of memes.
But none of them, not even the gods, could capture my attention like the one that started appearing since the beginning of the lockdown.
The status is posted by a relative. His wife and he decided to stay with his mother during the lockdown. He comes from a big family is Kerala, meaning, he is a tharavadi unlike the rest of us who are at best tharas. Tharavad and tharavadis are not uncommon in Kerala. Some even call the house built by their grandparents as their tharavad, but not this person, he is a proper tharavadi. The reason - His tharavad possesses an aana. Not just any aana but an anna with a name that begins with the name of the place. The aana also possesses long and gleaming tusks which he proudly displays as he nods his head. As an aside, I have also heard him, the relative and not the elephant, say that his tharavad has a room filled with sand. That room has not been opened for ages and no one knows how to open it either. His friends and family believe that that the room is filled with treasure from the past.
Staying in a tharavad is not easy as they are built many centuries ago. This means that they were constructed for the comforts of those days using the technology and skills available during those days. The technology and skill of those days don't exist anymore and the newer technology and skill cannot be used easily. So many a times, the tharavad becomes a white elephant. My own tharavad, which in my case is not my tharavad at all, was brought down a year ago as no one other than termite, ants, cockroaches, squirrels, owls and snakes resided in those premises for many years. My own tharavad was built forty five years ago in a crowded street in Chennai.
Damn! I have digressed.
A few days prior to the lockdown, the tharavadi started posting pictures and video of paddy fields in his village. The videos showed field filled with green stalks of paddy in various stages of growth swaying happily in their respective fields. Usually, the video started with a shot of these green happy creatures. Soon the camera started moving and one witnessed massive expanses of paddy field with coconut trees in the background. The camera continued turning for approximately 270 degrees before coming to rest on the face of the person holding it. His expression on his face as he stared into the camera was always the same - quizzical. Every time I saw the face, I heard a small voice in my head say "is the camera capturing my good face well?" The video stayed on his face for a few seconds before stopping. Once the lockdown began his focus shifted towards the elephant. Videos showed the elephant walking down the road swaying his head from side to side with branches and leaves held in his trunk. The elephant is a fine specimen of its species with a large and partially white forehead and large white tusks. It towered over its surrounding and walked majestically down any road.
Once the lockdown started the videos took a bizare turn. He started posting videos of his wife feeding the elephant. The concept by itself is not comical but the way it is done is. The video starts with his wife standing stiffly at a distance from the elephant looking at the camera and the person wielding it. She usually stands by a fence holding a couple of pieces of fruits or vegetables in her right palm. As soon as she receives the go ahead from her husband she starts walking stiffly towards the elephant. The elephant stands in its place swaying his head oblivious of her presence. When she reaches the elephants, she places one of pieces of the food into the elephant's mouth. The first time I watched the video I thought the elephant would jump back in shock. I imagined if someone shoved something into my mouth as I typed these words, I would jump back in shock. But the elephant did no such thing, instead it welcomed the food whole heartedly. Once she places the food in the elephant's mouth, she waits patiently for the elephant to chew its food. When she is convinced that the elephant has swallowed the food that she placed in his mouth, she stretches her hands towards the elephant's trunk. The elephant gives a startled look at her when her hand touches his trunk. But calms down almost instantly as he realizes that he is receiving another piece of food. She places the food in its trunk and walk away.
During the initial days, she went through this process in a stiff manner. But soon she developed some kind of rapport with the elephant and in the recent videos has ventured to pat the elephant's trunk before going back. I am unable to identify the difference in the elephant's attitude towards her though. The videos also have the instrumental version of a film song playing in the background. One of the recent videos had the instrumental version of the song Uyire from Bombay playing in the background. Hearing this an elder member of the family commented "Aanene adichu maatan nokkennalle!"
Social media continues to rule our lives, even more so during the lockdown. While WhatsApp has emerged as the king of social media, it has turned into a monstrous monarch who demands the attention of his subjects all the time. The subjects of this king have no choice but be a part of hundreds of groups and each of the groups a million videos land every day. Many of these videos with provide repetitive information or are untrustworthy. About 80% of the videos provide information in a mundane manner. Sometimes an amusing tiktok video lands in one of the groups but some fellow's annoying laughter takes away the little amusement that the video contains. Sometimes, people break into heated debates in the group. Depending on the country of residence the argument is usually about Trump or Modi. Poor Edapadi, there is never an argument about him. WhatsApp has become so annoying that I was thankful when one of the groups got shutdown unceremoniously. This act of kindness by a Goddess inspired me to jump out of another group, which had left a few months back only to be brought right back. But this time I took the additional precaution of ticking the option in the settings of WhatsApp, which will not let the administrator to make me part of any group he creates. There is one more group to escape from.
Oh! I have to put down a few words about this group. I spent the last two years of my life in a school that was, is and will be considered one of the greatest schools in the country. Unfortunately, the school did not turn out to be a great school for me. I have gone through many miserable schooling years but this one provided me with the worst two years. In the first unit test at the school, I could not pass in physics, chemistry and maths. That year I could not pass in chemistry at all. But miraculously I got into twelfth. I don't claim I was a bright student but I wasn't that bad either and I studied religiously for all the test and yet that Chemistry teacher flunked me every time. To top it she had the gall to tell me that every student with their name same as mine were intelligent but I alone have turned out to be like this. The maths teacher did not pick on me particularly but he had the penchant to give hundreds of problems as homework. Once he announced in the class "Diwali gift for all of you! One thousand problems in calculus." Here's the catch, he did not give the problems. The students had to find a thousand problems and solve it in 10 days. I don't remember anything other than the integral symbol and the letters 'd', 'x' and 'y' in calculus and hence cannot describe the problems but I remember copying problems from Russian translated book that was used by one of my uncles. Every problem in that book acted as the template for at least ten problems - if the problem involved a 3x then nine other problems took birth with x being married 7, 9 and so on. Much later I realized that I was experimenting with the concept of parallel universe during those young years of mine.
You might think where all this rot about that rotten school fits into the discussion about social media. The WhatsApp group I talked about earlier, consisted of my classmates from the two years I spent in that school. During the two years I studied there, there were five people I could call friends. A few more with whom I have talked to a few times. As for the others, I would not have bothered to wave them a "hi" if they crossed my path. One of them, swore to another friend of mine a year after I left the school that he did not have classmate with my name. Such was my relationship with my classmates and teachers during the two years I spend in that miserable school. Now, a few decades later, I was expected to communicate with these fellows over WhatsApp; not just in one group but two. I grit my teeth and went through the experience to the extent possible. But at some point, the painful discussions on US politics made me quit both the groups, which was a mistake. Within a month, I was brought back to both the groups. I shrugged my shoulder and bore the group for a few months. As I mentioned earlier, I have gotten out of one of the groups. The other group that I am a part of still, is a quiet group and so it is not a big problem. During the lockdown
Thus, our focus has moved from WhatsApp to YouTube. The variety of videos available on YouTube has made it one of the most important media in our lives. All the live news channels that we watch are on YouTube. Almost all the music and music related videos that interests a person are available on YouTube. But YouTube has found a method to make one's musical experience painful. Right in the middle of P. Leela's rendition of Sriramanamakatha, YouTube puts an advertisement. Not an advertisement for tooth paste or toothbrush but of some miserable fellow trying to woo a girl by singing a pathetic Punjabi pop song. One has to go through five or ten seconds of this nonsense before getting back to P. Leela. But by then the mood has passed. The placement of advertisements in the middle of a song is shocking.
YouTube has also brought in a few characters into our TV room. Two of these characters are interesting enough to talk about here. Dhruv Rathee seemed one of those persons who criticized everything done by anyone but soon I realized that one does not have a choice but to accept his points as he worked based on facts. His did his research thoroughly before presenting it to the audience. Further he clearly differentiated between fact based deductions and his opinions. More importantly, his presentation is matter of fact unlike Ravish Kumar who though good too seems passionate most of the time. Watch a Ravish Kumar programme is like watching a Sridhar directed Sivaji Ganaesan movie for continuously for 12 hours. This is probably the biggest differentiator between Dhruv and many of the other presenters in YouTube. Also, I am amazed that the fellow is only twenty three years old. How does this guy have this sane a head on his young shoulders?
At the other end of the spectrum lies Vanitha Vijaykumar. I don't think I have seen a person indulge in drama as she does; not on screen, not in life. I noticed her a year or so ago when she was thrown out of her mother's house by her father. She was all over the television hurling abuses at her father. She naatichufied her entire family. Her programmes involved all possible emotions. One moment she laughed the next she hurled abuses before moving on to tears and ... Sorry not all emotion. She never projected calmness on to the screen. I am only describing her interviews here and not the serials or movies she has acted in. Recently, she has surfaced again with Bigg Boss. She also has won some cookery show and considers herself a celebrity these days. She has a lockdown cookery show in which she made some kind of dessert using liquid nitrogen. Not many people use liquid nitrogen in laboratories and she uses it in her kitchen. If that isn't drama, I am not sure what is! For all the noise and melodrama, she has only acted in six or seven movies. I was intrigued enough by her personality to try and watch her first movie. The hero of the movie was none other than our very own Thalapathi. At that time, he did not have the heady titles like Thalapathi assigned to him. The movie was worse than terrible and I spent twenty minutes watching it with great difficulty. At that young age, she did not possess the acting prowess that she displays today.
Thus YouTube is an entertainment monster with personalities like Dhruv and Vanitha occupying their respective ends of the spectrum and harbouring many other personalities between them. If the previous statement sounds odd, it is meant to be. I placed it here only to use the word respective. I love the word respective and have been fascinated by it for many years. I am not sure many realize the power of the word. But I realized its strength the minute I ran into it. A mundane and almost meaningful sentence turned meaningful as soon as the word "respective" entered it. Let me give an example. Consider the sentence "The people on the dais occupied their positions". Nothing stands out about the statement. There is a dais. Some people are it and they position themselves in certain positions, which they believed were theirs. Now let us add the word "respective" to the sentence - "The people on the dais occupied their respective positions". Do you feel the difference? Suddenly, the positions have turned sacred. These are no longer positions that the people on the dais believed was theirs but these are positions that exist for the them. No other position on the dais would fit the person standing on it. All the universe has conspired in helping this person reach this position on the dais. That is the power of respective. We have just seen the word convert a position to the position. There is another interesting aspect of respective. One can write two lists in a sentence and place a respective in it to match each entity from one list to another entity in the second list. For example, let us consider the sentence "He gave an apple, orange, gauva and chikoo to the doctor, engineer, lawyer and storekeeper". From this sentence, we realize each person received a fruit but we have no idea who got what. To get that information all we have to do is place a "respectively" and all of a sudden, we are privy to this important information. "He gave an apple, orange, gauva and chikoo to the doctor, engineer, lawyer and storekeeper respectively" Damn! Now I know who got what!
Whoever gets whatever but I sure hope it is not Chinese. Apparently, everyone has turned allergic everything Chinese. Google PlayStore had an application that removed all the Chinese application on a smartphone. But the application itself was probably made in China and Google removed it from PlayStore. People are placing vows about not using Chinese products on Facebook. How the hell are they going the live up to their vow. The Korean car might have a component hidden from human eye that is made in China. And what about Chinese food! Will you never ever order Szechuan fried rice and Gobi Manchurian from a Chinese restaurant. When asked this question, the response is prompt. But this is Indo-Chinese and not Chinese. Nice! The dishes have Szechuan and Manchurian in their names and these terms are definitely based on Chinese places. Beside what about that dragon sitting all over the restaurant walls. That looks Chinese to me. As interesting as Facebook is, I wish it never existed for I would not have to deal with people making such absurd vows or proving to the world their sense of human equality by placing a box square for George Floyd as their profile picture. There are many George Floyds right outside our doors that we do not care for.
The pandemic and the ensuing lockdown and the concept of social distancing has made the life difficult for the people in the field of education. The teachers and students can no longer be in close proximity and so educational institutions have been scrambling towards the cloud. As is usually the case, everyone has picked the most glamourous aspect of the cloud to aid the process of teaching - Interactive classes using video conferencing software. There is more to education than sitting in front of each other physically or virtually but this is not understood by any. My own work in the area of cloud and education made me realize that an apple could associated with many subjects. If you are not convinced by what I say, look below.
Computer Science: Apple computers or iPhone
Physics: Newton
Biology: The fruit
Chemistry: Organic chemistry
Christian Theology: Eve and the snake
Medicine: An apple a day keeps the doctor away
English: A for Apple
Geography: Where do apples grow in India? (The correct answer would be "As in other parts of the world, on trees).
Indian languages: Aa for Aapil
I am bored of writing these entries. I wrote this entry a week back but did not feel like reviewing it till now. I have to review it once more before I post it. I started with this entry two weeks back at the beginning of the fourth version of the lockdown. Today, two weeks later, is the last day of this lockdown. The fifth version of the lockdown has been announced already - Lockdown: Vishnu cycle 2. But this lockdown will be a water down version. Malls and Temples are supposed to open on June 8. But not in Chennai for it is a containment zone. The number of cases continues to increase and there does not seem to be an end in sight for Chennai. The Tamilnadu Government says the increase in case is due to the greater number of tests done in the state but Trump says the same too.
Its more than a month since I wrote this and I have not published this. I am not reviewing this anymore. I don't think I will write for some time. Suddenly, I don't see the point.
He felt miserable. He had felt so for a few weeks. That evening, he felt worse than earlier and so he did what he thought the hero of his movie should do. He got into his car and started driving. He did not have anywhere to go. So, he went wherever the traffic took him. At some point, his car decided to get onto a highway. The car continued its journey south over the crowded highway. It left the city. The tall buildings gave way for smaller ones. The car continued its journey oblivious of its occupant.
At some point, he decided to get off the road. The trucks blocking his way got through his misery to his nerves. The car turned left and ran through a lonely two tracked village road. Trees lined the road on either side and if not for the tar on the road one would have expected to see a Pallava prince trotting down the road on his horse. The disappearance of the trucks had brought back his misery and he did not notice the beauty of his surroundings.
Slowly but steadily the road turned skywards. It went up little by little and at times it twisted and turned. His eyes were focussed on the road and his hands and legs did their respective functions precisely. They knew they could not depend on his distracted brain. The lefts were taken deftly and the rights respectfully. A few kilometres later his eye widened dangerously and let out a scream. His brain came back to life and shouted "brake". His right foot promptly moved from the accelerator pedal to the brake and pressed it forcefully. His left foot followed suit and pressed the clutch desperately. His palms gripped the steering wheel desperately. His miserable brain had overreacted. Such a reaction was unnecessary for the car came to a screeching halt four and a half metres from the wall.
He got off the car and sat on the parapet wall looking at the sun waving goodbye to the blue sky. He noticed an airplane in the sky. The moon had started appearing on the dark side of the sky. He sat there oblivious of the passing of time. Darkness descended and, in the distance, he could hear Dave approaching him while playing his guitar. Dave stood beside him and started playing the licks of a familiar song. In a few minutes, Roger joined him and they started singing ...
She was on a boat and her friend was rowing the boat. She could not identify her friend but she was sure that this friend was her best friend. They were talking about a horse that was drinking the water from the lake but she did not remember the conversation. The surrounds of the lake were quiet. Suddenly, she heard the calling of a few birds. The sound of the cuckoo stood out. There were a few crows crowing too. She could also hear a Myna. She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling. During the past few days, she had come to realize that the lands she visited in her sleep were quiet. As she woke up, the silence of her dream was broken by the sounds that surrounded her. The transition was sometimes startling. One morning, she had asked her father "Papa! Why are dreams so quiet?" Her father looked at her perplexed and asked "Are dreams quiet?" She looked at him before exclaiming "Of course Papa, Did you not know?" Her father looked at her with sheepishly and admitted "I don't remember my dreams, dear". She shook her head and walked towards the her parent's bedroom. She was sure that her mother would know the reason. Her mother was sitting on the bed looking at her laptop. She asked "Mama! Why are dreams so quiet?" Her mother looked up and asked "What did you ask?" She repeated her question. Her mother responded with a smile "Maybe, because we are sleeping". She was not convinced by the response "But Mama! We see the dream while we sleep but why can't we hear anything?" Her mother's smile broadened. She took off her spectacles and thought for a moment. She asked "How do you know that you can't hear anything in your dreams?" She could not believe that her mother did not understand what her. She showed her exasperation lightly as she said "Because suddenly we start hearing everything as we get up Mama. Have you not experienced it? As you wake up, you start hearing the birds and you realize it was quiet earlier." Her mother continued to smile as she confessed "No dear! I have not experienced it. I don't remember my dreams". She felt disappointed. She thought her father and mother knew everything about everything but for the first time she realized that that was not true. They did not know about dreams.
"It's Monday!" she said as she sprang out of her bed. She stretched her body to shake away its lethargy and repeated with a big smile "Its Monday!". A few months ago, Monday was the worst day of the week. She would roll this way and that on the bed till her mother walked into the room shouting "You are late! Get up now! You will miss the bus". She used to hate Mondays but now she loved Monday mornings. She did not take long to get ready. As she walked out her room, her mother gave her a cup of hot chocolate milk. She sat on the couch sipping from the drink from the cup. Her mother sat in the balcony with a cup of coffee. As is usually the case, she spent her mornings talking over the phone. From time to time, she looked at her daughter and if their eyes met, they smiled at each other. When the cup had become empty, she held it upside down above her head and let the last drop form on the rim of the cup. She looked at the forming drop intently. When she felt that the drop was big enough, she held the cup over her open mouth. Slowly, she brought down the cup towards her extended tongue and let the drop touch the tip of her tongue. She felt she savoured the last drop of the chocolate milk more than the whole cup of it. She placed the cup in the kitchen sink and came back to the hall. Her mother was standing by the front door holding her mask and bag. As she got closer, her mother started a session of rapid fire questions.
"Books?"
"Yes."
"Diary?"
"Yes."
"Pencil pouch?"
"Yes."
"Chart?"
"Oh no!"
She ran back to her room, picked the roll of chart paper from her table and ran back to her mother. Her mother uttered "Hmmm!" before continuing.
"Sorry mama."
"Water bottle?"
"Yes."
"Cap?"
"Yes."
"Spare cloths?"
"Yes."
"Sanitizer?"
"Yes."
"Napkins? "Yes."
"Towel?"
"Yes."
"Good! Here is your mask,"
"Can I wear it when I reach the bus stop?"
"Please wear it now! You cannot go out of the house without wearing the mask."
"Oh OK!"
She took the mask from her mother and looked at it. The mask had lower half of Spider man's mask printed on it. It was gifted to her on her birthday. She loved it the minutes she saw it and used to wear it all the time; sometimes even on the dining table! She used to remove the mask, take a mouthful of the food, don the mask again and then chew the food. It was her favourite mask. She loved the mask still but had got tired to wearing masks. Wearing a mask turned out to be the worst part of going outside. Nearly everyone wore masks these days. She could remember a time when her parents would be annoyed to see people wearing masks. When she asked why the people were wearing masks they scoffed "to save themselves from pollution and dust". She used to feel confused "Isn't that good? Should we not wear masks too?" They used to respond that the people wearing the masks were "overdoing it" and that pollution was not so bad that people had to walk around wearing masks; not in Chennai anyway. But now they scoffed at people who did not wear their masks
She wore the mask and walked out of the house. As per her mother's instructions, she did not press the elevator button. As far as possible she did not touch anything outside her house. The ride from home to the school bus stop took ten minutes. Her mother wore a dark green mask with a multiplication sign on it. When she had seen the mask for the first time she had asked the meaning of the mask. Her mother shrugged her shoulders and said "It's just a pattern. I liked it". But she did not agree with her mother. It did not look like a pattern; a pattern would require many multiplication signs and this one only had one. Every time she saw the mask, she wondered what the mask meant. Her father had a red mask with the emblem of his favourite football club - Manchester United. The day he bought it, he had shown it to her with pride. She liked the mask but was annoyed by her father's obsession for football and Manchester United. This obsession had resulted his creating a football stadium like area around the television. He watched football matches till late in the night. Some nights she was startled out of her sleep by her father's shouting "Goal! Goal! Goal! Yes! Yes! Yes!"
The excitement rose within her as the car approached the bus stop. As her mother parked the car, she looked out of the window at the line of children waiting for the bus. She got out and waved at her friends. She did not walk towards them but waited for her mother to come to her. The children from the higher classes stood in a circle and talked. The smaller children stood with parents at a some distance from each other. From time to time, they looked at each other. The mask made it tough for them to talk to each other. They could not even smile at each other as their smiles would be hidden under the masks. Sometime they attempted to communicate to each other using their hand. The parents did not talk to each other either. They busied themselves with their phones and at times spoke a few words to their children. She noticed the bus when it was a few metres away from the stop. She liked to see the front of the bus as it approached the stop. She loved her school's buses, especially its front with the large windshield. The windshield had the school's name written at the top is bold letters. She loved the name of her school. It was simple and she thought it was the best name a school can have. As the school bus approached, she fixed her eyes on the name. Her eyes were filled with love and she smiled under her mask.
The bus stopped and the students started boarding. The boarding took time as the Akka on the bus recorded the temperature of each student and noted it down in the attendance register. Two minutes later, she found herself in front of the Akka, who smiled at her. Though the Akka wore a mask she was able to identify her smile by the way the skin around the corner of her eyes tightened. The Akka looked at the device in her hand intently and nodded her head in approval. She and her mother exchanged goodbyes before she got in. The masks had brought an end to the custom of kissing each other goodbye. She was glad that the custom had come to an end though. She got into the bus and walked to her seat. She sat alone in a seat that could seat two children. Previously, she and her best friend would occupy the seat but now they went to school on different days. She had not met her friend for many months. She wondered if they were best friends still but then remembered that they had vowed to be BFF. She decided to call her friend that evening. The bus journey was not as exciting as it used to be. For one, the bus was only half full and everyone sat away from each other. Also, the masks made it difficult for the children to talk to each other. Except for some of the bigger children, everyone slept through the bus journey. She placed her head on the bunched up curtain and watched sights on the road. She slept within a few minutes.
The Akka shook her gently back to wakefulness. The bus had reached the school and the children were getting ready to deboard. She got down from the bus and walked towards the school gate. She joined the line of students waiting to get into the school. Soon she stood in front of a teacher who recorded her temperature and gave her a few drops of sanitizer to clean her hands. She walked into the school. She had not woken up completely and as a result trudged along to her classroom. Her face brightened as she walked into the classroom. She greeted her friends and her teacher. She went to her place, placed her bags and took off her mask. She took two or three deep breaths and let her lung enjoy fresh air. The class only had twelve students and yet was noisy. The students sat away from each other and had to speak loudly with each other. Unlike the previous years, the teachers did not seem to mind the noise. They looked at the children with a smile on their faces. Since the class was split by half newer friendships were forming this year and as a result she did not miss her best friend once she reached the school. There were others and since they only meet two times a week, there was a lot of catching to be done. They got ten minutes before the start of the class to talk.
The children remained attentive in the classes. Unlike earlier, most children did not talk during the classes. The classes went by quickly. At the end of each period, the children went out to wash their hands with soap. They maintained some distance between each other as they walked and stood in line to wash. To make up for the space they talked louder than usual and their loud talking made the school not seem only half full. She liked these five minute breaks between classes and spent all the five minutes talking and listening to her friends. The classes continued through the morning. The big unhappiness for all the students was that lack of games periods. Instead, they got 30 minutes of free time. During this time they walked around the school looking at the stones, plants and trees. Some sat at different spots in the campus and talked to each other. At times, three or four children stood in a circle and threw or kicked a ball towards each other. Some watched the bigger children doing shooting practice in the basketball court. Two or three teachers were present among them during the free periods and they ensured that the children were a few feet away from each other at all times. They washed their hand thoroughly at the end of free time. They had a fruit or snack before getting back into their classes. The classes after the break tended to seem longer than the classes during the morning. When she got bored of the class, she looked out of the window at the trees beyond the school's walls. The last thirty minutes before lunch were the toughest. The ones who wore watches looked at it every few seconds. Others looked at them eagerly and tried to determine the number of minutes left for lunch from their reactions.
The sound of the bell announcing the beginning of the lunch period was very popular among children. At times, few of the children whooped on hearing the bell. The teachers did not take this kindly and spent the next few minutes talking to the children and thus delayed their lunch. Sometime the teachers talked to the whole class and this made it worse for the child who whooped. He/She had many pairs of eyes staring viciously at him or her. Though the lunch hour was a relief, the children did not enjoy it as much as they used to during the previous years. Earlier, each of the table used to be filled with children who chatted away happily as they gulped in their food. But now only four children sat on each table and the time was spent more in eating than talking. She looked forward to the lunch not as a break from the classes but for the food. She had missed the school food during the months she had stayed at home and was glad she could have it for at least two days a week. Though she knew the children with whom she shared the table, she did not consider them as friends and so she preferred to eat the food quietly.
She walked around the school campus with her friends after lunch. They had their masks on and maintained distance between each other as they walked. Teachers watched over them at all places in the campus. If the children forgot to maintain the distance or wear masks, they were instantly informed to rectify the lapse by the teachers. The conversations between the friends were invariably about their earlier life. They remembered the visits to the malls and theatres, the evening spent on the beach, ice cream parlours after dinner, pleading for pack of Lays in the aisle of a supermarket, trying to keep pace with the panipuriwala and birthday parties. They really missed the birthday parties and talked about incidents from the many birthday parties that they attended during the previous years. Though she liked the time she spent with her friends, she really missed her best friend. They used to laugh a lot more when they were together. Except for some of the bigger students, no one laughed much these days.
When the teachers announced that it was time to get back to the classes, they walked towards the wash basins and washed their hands for twenty second (though they no longer sang "Happy birthday to you"). The afternoon classes were tougher than the ones in the morning. They felt sleepy and since the class was only half full there was only half the amount of whispering in the class and that was not enough, Yet, she did not get bored of the classes. She only got two days of school and that too after a break of many months. So she enjoyed every minute of her time in the school. As the end of the school day approached, sadness crept into her. She will be getting back to her small world till day after tomorrow. She had always liked being in the school and these days she loved it.
When the day ended, she walked up to her teacher and said "See you on Wednesday". The teacher looked at her and said "Wednesday is a holiday. See you on Monday". She was stunned by the response. It took her a moment to say "Oh!" She walked away from the teacher quickly. She kept her head down as she walked towards the bus. She did not want to look or talk to anyone. She did not want them to see the tears that were welling up in her eyes.
Last evening, two days before the end of the extended lockdown, the lockdown got extended a second time. This means that this is the third instalment of the lockdown. The television channels call it "Lockdown 3.0". Our culture and religion has a strong mathematical base and so it is only fair that we use concepts from our own culture to name these lockdowns and not follow the shallow western system of numbers followed by a dot and a zero. Thus I am going ethnic and am calling this extension of lockdown as "Lockdown: Trishul", Better still, I will call this set of lockdowns as "Lockdown: Tridev". This way we can look at the first lockdown as "Lockdown: Brahma" - the creation of the lockdown. The second lockdown can be considered as "Lockdown: Vishnu" - the sustenance of the lockdown. The current lockdown becomes "Lockdown: Siva" - the destroying of the lockdown. If the lockdown extends again, it would seem that the name "Lockdown: Tridev" will become a problem. Not really! We can bring in the concept of an universe that expands and contracts constantly. Thus we can assume that the lockdown is happening in cycles of three. If the current lockdown is not the last lockdown then we have to assume that there will be three more. God forbid the Government to not go through the lockdowns in cycles of three. Now that the nomenclature is settled, we can go back to happenings from around the globe.
I had mentioned in one of the previous entries that I wanted to write about certain news articles many weeks ago but my head did not let me do so. It rambled on about stuff and nonsense, as it is doing now, and I had to push all these important occurrences away. No longer! For the next few days, I will remain focused.
Some of the references given below are from many weeks ago. So it might seem dated and my own thoughts about them have undergone many change as the situation today is different from then. The big change that has occurred inside my head is the realization that we have no idea about the state of the world and the pandemic. Every day the worldometers website throws large numbers at us.
Look at those numbers! They are all in millions and hundred thousands. It is still a small percentage of the world population but it has been a while since mankind has seen deaths in such large numbers in a short period of time. The shock is increased by the fact that we are in a century when cars were expected to fly and our roadrunner cars are getting rusted in their places of rest.
Our own attraction to bad news makes us ignore the number at the bottom. The number of people who have recovered has also reach a million. It is nearly one third of the affected cases. This should give us hope but we are bothered by the number of deaths, which is at 7% of the total number of cases and more importantly nearly two and half thousand people have died. All these numbers continue to increase. But the other two numbers are dependent on the slowing down of the first number and the whole world is praying for that damned number to slow down. But that is not happening yet. When it reduces in one part of the world, it increases in another. Ultimately, the number continues to increase at a healthy pace. As long as that number increases, the deaths will continue to increase. At the current rate, the world will end up with around seven and a half thousand deaths. But it is difficult to predict what the final values of these quantities will be as we have no idea when the number of cases will slow down. So we have no choice but to wait and watch. In one ear we hear tick-tock-tick-tock and in the other we hear tick-tick-tick.
I seem to be having a problem with the word "lakh". During the second review of this piece, I have converted all the lakhs to hundred thousands.
The world faces another issue. We are not even sure if these numbers are correct. Actually, we are sure the actual numbers are greater. We are not aware of many of the cases and deaths. Either the patients are asymptomatic or they are in a "remote area" and we are not aware of these cases. I placed the phrase remote area within quotes as these areas are not far away from cities and town. Even with the development of mobile network, a place which is at a distance of 50 kilometres from a city can be considered remote. So we have no idea where we are; neither how far we have travelled nor how much farther we should go. Tick-tick-tick, ...
A day before I started reviewing this write-up for the second time, I found a video on BBC. The headline for the video caught my attention "The 1957 flu that killed one million people". I was shocked! I had heard people talk about last big pandemic on the planet, the Spanish flu of 1917 but had heard nothing about the 1957 flu. So I read the introduction before watching the video. The introduction was as chilling as the headline and it said "In 1957 a new strain of avian flu emerged in East Asia and quickly spread around the world, killing at least one million people. Sumi Krishna was nine years old when she caught the virus in India. This is her story." Sumi Krishnan was then a 12 year old studying in a school in Nilgiris. The video shocked me as I realized this was a worldwide pandemic that started out of China (again!). I searched for this flu on Wikipedia and what I read was even more disturbing. This pandemic was caused by H2N2 virus and it began towards the end of 1956. It spread from China to South East Asia and then to India, Europe and Americas. It killed a million people. The highest number of cases occurred in October 1957. The vaccine was available to the public during the same month. The parallels with the current pandemic are disturbing. What's worse is that a different strain of the virus returned in 1968 (H3N3) and killed another million people around the world. The line in Wikipedia reads "H2N2 influenza virus continued to circulate until 1968, when it transformed via antigenic shift into influenza A virus subtype H3N2, the cause of the 1968 influenza pandemic." The Wikipedia article about the 1968 pandemic has the line "Despite the lethality of the 1957 Asian Flu in China, little improvement had been made regarding the handling of such epidemics. The Times newspaper was the first source to sound the alarm regarding this new possible pandemic." Fifty years later, we have made the same mistakes again and no one's ready to take responsibility for it. Also, I wonder why we are not talking about these pandemics which took place fifty years ago and talking only about the Spanish flu. Human arrogance will lead to its extinction. Tick-tick-tick, ...
I am not feeling sad or depressed. As prevalent as the disease is, it is still at a distance from me and so I don't feel the worry of being affected. The lockdown has been pleasant. I have spent the time provided in activities I always wanted to. Yet I have the unjustified annoyance for not being able to spend more time on these activities. I want to watch 4 movies a day but I struggle to watch even one. The reason being the movies I want to watch might not interest others in the house and at times might not be even appropriate for everyone. So I watch them on my laptop with my headphones. I cannot watch anything in this manner for more than 30 to 40 minutes. A few years ago I realized that my finances would be constrained for the rest of my life and I decided to indulge in a final splurge - Bose headphones. For a person who looks at value for money in everything he purchases, this one's a real splurge. Though the sound quality is great, maintaining this headphone has been a headache and it is not very convenient to wear. It has become my very own white elephant.
Living through the pandemic has its own issues. For the last two days, my abdomen has not been behaving very well. There is a pain that travels all around the abdomen. The first thought "it is gas". A good guess! A few hours later another thought struck me "could this be a heart attack?" But I rubbish that thought because I have had that thought a number of times earlier and obviously I was wrong. Finally this evening, I wondered if it could be the COVID-19 triggered breathlessness. I had to take the help of Google to convince myself that breathlessness is not felt in the abdomen. It has been a week since I wrote those words. The pain has disappeared and I am alive still. So I guess it was gas. This kind of paranoia and panic strikes from time to time. The problem with this virus is not just about your own health but the pain it will cause for others around and when I say around I mean a large around and not just the immediate around. The Arokya Setu application informs about the cases 5 and 10 km away. Currently, the application in my phone announces "No case of COVID-19" even for 10 km. Imagine the state of some poor soul 9.5 km away from here when he/she looks at the application and finds "1 case of COVID-19". So for the sake of humanity, I should not be affected.
Since then, the status has changed. One case of COVID-19 has been reported in the 10 km radius. Soon after I saw this update in Arokya Setu, news about this case landed in the WhatsApp news channel. It said the son of a vegetable vendor has tested positive. It is believed he contracted it from the dreaded Koyambedu market. Now, all the vegetable vendors in the area are being tested for the virus. The vegetable shops in the area are all closed. The Koyambedu market itself has been locked down and this has resulted in the non-availability of vegetables in many parts of the city. One of our friends has been surviving on kanjiyum payarum for the past week.
But many of the new channels try to the focus off their immediate neighbourhood. Many news channel, especially the ones abroad, are trying to convince their local readers and viewers that a place many miles away from them will go through terrifying misery due to the virus soon. They have been trying to distract their readers from the situation in their immediate neighbourhood. The western media has been critical about India and its measures to tackle the pandemic. I am not saying Indian Government has done a great job but I do think they have done the best that can be expected out of them. The Governments in the west have not done any better and I am being kind to them when I say that. In reality, they have messed it up. How dare they talk about India when their state is under a truck load of excreta? In India, the situation has not been that bad and yet they are critical about everything happening in India including the Hindu nationalist and their suppression of the sane voices of India!
It is not just the media in the west that indulges in such criticism. NDTV carried the article about a man from Kerala who had to carry his father from a hospital to a rickshaw a kilometre away due to the lockdown. This is a sad event but the problem was with the way it was reported. The news caster announced that this case shows that a coin has two sides. Kerala has controlled the spread of the virus well. Other parts of India should seek their advice and help in controlling the virus. Instead people are eager to criticise the state in every manner possible . It does not help that the state is ruled by the left and the Government is harassed by both BJP and Congress. The Congress leader picked up an arbitrary issue and tried to divert the attention of the public from the pandemic and its control. Congress talking about corruption is an appropriate definition for oxymoron. Yet a few intelligent morons on this planet think Rahul Gandhi and Congress are not as bad as the world paints them to be. BJP's miserable performance does not make the Congress any better. They are the reason for India to be in this shape. So I think people should stop talking rot but of course their irresistible urge for them to sound intelligent makes them to talk rot.
The supporting of this Government or that is another example of the presence of segregation in this world. We split ourselves in every possible way - Gender, country, states, district, city, village, economic status, caste, sexual orientation, educational qualification, religion, food, colour of skin, size of the eye, existence of hair on one's head, eye sight, type of nose, dominant hand, type of music one listens, mathematics, language, knowledge of computer, made in China, political leaning, philosophical outlook, Trump and Modi, number of hours of sleep. Phew! I can't write no more but am sure there are more!
All my life, I could not imagine a world without segregation. Nairs are different from Nayars. So though Mira Nair has a Nair at the end of her name but she will always be Mira Nayar and not Mira Nair. Look at her, listen to her; she can never be a Nair. This is how the world works. But the fact is that she (or her father or grandfather) only had to replace "ya" in her last name with "i" for her to become a Nair. But this comes from my thinking mind and the thinking part of the mind is not popular among the remaining part. Even now when I hear her name, I hear a voice in my head say "she is not a malayalee". A few years ago, I met a person. He had a Christian first name and Menon as the last name. My immediate guess was that he was a Menon who accepted Christianity. Not the case! His father liked Krishna Menon and hence placed Menon at the end of his son's name and thus made his son's last name a part of his first name. Did you notice the importance given to first name and last name? My mind is programmed to look at last names. Though my own last name, like that of many, only informs the world of my father's name. This mode of naming has the advantage that people find it difficult to place me here or there based on my last name. But using the father's name as the last name of a child is not being fair to the mother. It seems to be implying that the father is more important than the mother. One cannot escape the clutches of segregation.
There are two problems with segregation. One it make us feel proud of who we are. This per se is not a problem but when pride combines with the feeling of contempt for others it leads to many issues. Pride for one's own fair skin combined with contempt and disgust for other's not-so-fair skin has led to tremendous cruelty, which exists to this day. I was watching a pointlessly romantic movie last night where the hero's mother wanted him to marry a girl as "she is very fair". Later when she realizes that he has fallen in love with a girl from another religion she questions "but is she fair?" The scene was probably placed in the movie to mock the importance given to being fair in our country. But the this girl from another religion turns out, conveniently, to be "very fair" and thus the intent of the scene is lost . Such and many other sorts of segregation seem to be embedded in our heads and are passed from generation to generation. So I don't feel confident of a society that believes in the equality of all humans (definitely not all organisms - COVID-19 will never receive kindness from humans).
As I mentioned earlier, I had always taken this division for granted. It was Krishnamurthi who put the idea in my mind that segregation does not exist among humans. He has said many times that we are all the same. He argues strongly about this sameness thus "Please do realise something tremendous: that you are the rest of mankind psychologically. You are mankind, whether you live in India, Russia, China or in America, or Europe, you are the rest of mankind, because you suffer, and everyone on this earth suffers in his own way. We share that suffering, it is not my suffering. So when you ask a question: what difference will it make if I or you change, if I may most humbly point out, it is a wrong question. You are avoiding the central issue. And we never seem to face the central issue, the central challenge that demands that we live totally differently, not as Americans, Russians, Indians, or Buddhists or Christians." To drive in his point he continues thus "I wonder if you have realised, Christians have been responsible for killing humans far more than any other religious group. Don't get angry, please!" He goes on further "It is only Buddhism and Hinduism, said, 'Don't kill. If you kill' - they believe in reincarnation - 'you will pay next life. ... We as Brahmins were brought up that way, not to kill a fly, not to kill animals for your food.". Is K not making use of our differences to drive in the point? I do realize that I have taken these arguments out of context. Yet, I get the feeling that the concept of differences and hence segregation is deeply embedded even in K's mind when he say "We as Brahmins...". He seems to be inviting them to become us. Paradoxically, the minute he does that he has already separated humanity.
I doubt if the world will ever be a place without borders
For we, as human, believe borders are required for order
While we try to make our thoughts grow broader
By providing the word "equality" to our minds as fodder
The differences among us becomes a bother
Enough to give the thought of equality a smother
I believe that is the point! We have been brought up in a divided environment. Everything we see and everything we hear amplifies this division that it is difficult for us to see everyone on this planet as equals. We can cheat ourselves into believing that we don't believe in divisions. But that very thought has division in it. You have by that very thought put yourself on a pedestal and have brought in a division that is as bad as "I am proud to be a Malayalee". This has been brought out beautifully by the practically unknown theory by Constance Flictcher "The possessor of a mind that tries to assimilate all creates a new standard open only to those who have the ability to assimilate all and in the process creates a group that does not assimilate all. This condition of the mind lead to the Equality Paradox".
Once I read a book by Dick Francis. I think the book was about horse racing (Good God! I just realized that Dick Francis wrote many book about horse racing; he was a steeplechase jockey). I hated this book as it gave me a lot of details that I did not care for. Arthur Hailey's books had the same effect on me. I was not interested in the details. I was a lot younger then and I hope I have changed. Oh! I have definitely changed. I have spent the last six paragraphs (including this one) in setting the ground for the next few lines.
I hate most of the news channels and their hosts or news casters or whatever they are called these days. It does not matter what their names are and which channels they belong to, they try to divide us in manners that we have been unable to fathom yet. Even during these days of illness they are spreading hatred for someone or the other. The manner in which they do it annoys me more than their doing it. They act as though they are torch bearers of truth while they propagate hate and division. What is worse is they themselves are immersed in attachments but have no qualms to belittle others. Right from the days of the 9:30 pm English news on Doordarshan, I have never liked watching the news on Television. But I prefer the Doordarshan days as I was only bored of watching the news during those days. Today I feel anger. Before anyone tries to calm me down, please try and remember the names of the news channels that you can absolutely not stand watching. I am sure that each of us will have a few of those.
Barkha Dutta is talking on Al Jazeera. The announcer of the programme pronounced Barkha's name as Bark-a. I don't like Barkha Dutt and this is the second time I have seen her on Al Jazeera informing viewers about the brave brand of journalism that she indulges in. She is informing the foreign media with conviction that she is one of the few journalists in India who has the guts to be with the people; the rest don't get out of their studios at all. Apparently, her definition of journalists includes only Arnab and her. I now hate Al Jazeera too.
The lockdown was not all about madness and sadness. At most times, I kept away from the news and thus remained bearably happy. But I watch the news for a few minutes at least for getting information and more importantly amusement. The NDTV reporter from Kerala asked, in broken Malayalam, to a person working at a restaurant in Thiruvananthapuram "The Government has allowed people to have their food in the restaurant but people are not listening to the Government and are taking the food as parcel to their homes. Is it true?" How sad! People never listen to the Government. If the Government says they can have their food in the restaurants, good citizens would consume the food in restaurants and not parcel it. It is a slip of a tongue but it is the tongue of a NDTV reporter and so I show no mercy.
The President of Tanzania had his suspicions on Corona virus and its testing kits. A news articles said that he took samples of goat and papaya, gave them human names and age and sent them to the labs as human samples. The samples, he claims, came back as Corona positive. When I saw the brief of the article in InShorts, I felt respect for the President. He seemed like a good tester. The Chinese Corona Kits and their makers are not to be trusted anyway. India and other countries have sent back many kits for being faulty. I thought the Tanzanian President had found an effective mechanism to test these kits. But my understanding of the Presidents was far from reality. The President is sceptical about the disease itself. He had asked the Tanzanians to pray and thus defeat the virus ("Corona Go! Go Corona!"). He also plans to use a Madagascarian herbal remedy called "Covid Organics" to drive away the virus. So he is using this technique to keep the people and world at dark. By the way, papaya is known as pawpaw in Tanzania.
That news reminded me of the video that landed on my Facebook some days back. It talked about a Siddha doctor who has a cure for the Corona virus. Apparently, he, with the help of the Government, had tested the medicine on a number of patients and cured them. But the Government is not doing anything further laments the video. It goes on to say that though Tamil culture has the ultimate remedy for COVID-19, no one's listening.
On the first day of the "Lockdown - Siva", various Governments opened the liquor shops in their respective states. Seventy five percent of the men in these states were on the streets standing in lines outside the shops. Social distancing was let loose in the wind. The Lakshman Rekhas have been erased and forgotten. It is ironic that this is happening at a time when the number of cases of COVID-19 are increasing more than ever. The Governments and people have run out of patience and have formally submitted themselves to Bhagwan bharose. Kerala Government had considered keeping the alcohol shops and bars open during the initial days of the lockdown. But the national level lockdown put a spanner in their plan. Soon they announced that the drunkards were suffering withdrawal symptoms and to allay their sufferings doctors would prescribe alcohol to these poor souls. Imagine a doctor writing in a prescription "Old Monk Rum - Quarter mixed with 50 ml of room temperature water (definitely not cold water) 2 times before dinner". WhatsApp groups are filled with messages that economy of many states are dependent on the amount of alcohol consumed. If the economy of Indian states are dependent on alcohol consumption, Indian state and democracy is in trouble. The Indian economy will soon identify men by the bottle of alcohol in their hands.
A few other items in the news caught my attention during the past few weeks.
1. Japan decided not to go into a lockdown to deal with the pandemic. I guess the Japanese habits of following rules and giving importance to cleanliness ensured that the pandemic did not attain worrying proportions in Japan. They only have 15078 cases of COVID-19 and 536 deaths. From time to time, they used their natural inclination towards innovation in maintaining social distance. About a month back, an university in Japan conducted a convocation ceremony using robots to represent the students. Each Robot had a screen for their head, which displayed the live video transmitted over the Internet of each student. The Robots decked in ceremonial robes with a two dimensional human face looked cute.
2. On the other hand, Indian have not shown any interest in following rules and maintaining cleanliness from the time Harappa, Mohanjo-daro and Lothal disappeared. Across different places in the country, people have continued to mourn, protest and celebrate as groups in public. At one place close to Madurai, the death of a Jallikattubull resulted in people thronging onto the streets to take the dead bull in a procession to its final resting place. In the process, these wonderful specimens of humanity converted social distancing into social distressing. While in Karnataka people indulged in social deifying by taking their Gods in procession. An ex-CM of Karnataka conducted his son's wedding during this time. He claimed that there were not many people who attended the wedding. But the pictures painted a picture of social dissemination. None of these so-called leaders of our country understand the meaning of leadership. If you indulge in activities as per your conveniences, the people who follow you will do so too and thus make it convenient for the virus to spread. The law has turned a blind eye to all these acts of indiscretion.
3. I am aware of the harm that man (I don't mean man as a common reference to human beings but the male version of humans) has caused on this planet but every day I realize that men are capable of causing more harm than I thought. Men, in general, are aggressive and selfish. Men love to fight with each other and dominate others. By other, I mean anything and everything - a piece of land and the creatures on it and off it too. Since the lockdown started many men have found it difficult to stay indoors. So they do what they love to do - abuse others. The number of cases of domestic violence has increased all around the world. Look at this one in Gujarat. A moron broke his wife's spine because she won a game of online Ludo. She coaxed him to play the game, to keep him indoors, but ended up in the hospital herself. The minute the alcohol shops opened thousands of men were found standing in front of them. They have absolutely no concern for the pain that the world is going through. Some of the WhatsApp brotherhood groups are filled with videos and memes about alcohol and the misery of living without it. At this rate, men will soon be referred to as mean. Sometimes, I have to evaluate my own thoughts and actions keeping in mind the fact that I am a man.
4. I like the sing-song rendition of "Malabar gold and diamond, a promise is a promise" in the advertisement for Malabar gold and diamond advertisement on Asianet. Also "Oh! Ithu valare simble allayo" in Sheenlac water based wood polish. Also, Amitabh's palm movement as he says "cover your nose and mouth...".
For the past few evenings, I hear people wailing on Asianet for Indians (Keralites specifically) staying abroad. "They have to be brought back home immediately" is their cry. Four lakh people want to come back and many are shocked that this is not done quickly. One programme had an intelligent soul (a-soul?) compare this pandemic with the Kuwaiti war of the 90s. The fellow says that the Government then brought back one and half lakh people in twelve days. He expressed his shock at the amount of time taken by the current Government in bringing back the NRIs. Of course, by Government he meant the Kerala Government more than the one in the centre. This is Asianet we are talking about! Don't these idiots realize the difference between wartime and pandemic time evacuations. Urgency should be the prime objective of a wartime evacuation. But during a pandemic, care is more important than urgency. Everyone realizes that some or many of the people staying abroad are going through difficulty but during a pandemic effective implementation of social distancing, testing and quarantine during evacuation are important and these take time! Don't these political buffoons realize this. I think politics has ruined our world. If many of us die, we deserve to. We are all idiots.
The Congress head of Kerala is a fine specimen of a Congress party leader or even member. First, he tried to distract the people from the Kerala Government's pandemic control activities by bringing in the Sprinlkr case. When this proved to be a damp squib, he turned his focus on pravasikal (Keralites staying abroad). His cronies and he lamented about their fate and living conditions on the foreign soil and wanted them to be brought back immediately. He publicized videos and photographs of his discussions through phone with the pravasikal. He gave the responsibility of managing this activity in the Middle East to some person there. When the first flight from Middle East, people realized that this person had used this opportunity to place himself and family on the first flight back home. Thus another feather landed on this brilliant leader's cap. It is interesting to note that this news was heard on Kairali and not on Asianet. News channels continue to support political parties. While Kairali supports Communists, Asianet supports Congress and thus the news on these channels are biased. It is sad that most news channel are biased but I believe as humans it is difficult for us to not be biased. I am annoyed at the holier than thou attitude of the journalists. They are humans too and this means you are as messed as everyone else. Maybe worse.
Two big names in Bollywood decided "enough is enough" during the last week - Irrfan Khan and Rishi Kapoor. Inside my head, both these actors live in different spaces. Rishi Kapoor resides in the world of the 70s and 80s. Karz, Zamaane Ko Dikhana Hain and Khel Khel Mein are the three movies that come to my mind when I think of Rishi Kapoor. These movie probably best represent the romantic and comic hero parts that Rishi played. The songs from his movies are more popular than his movies. My favourite Rishi song is "Dil lena khel hain dildhar ka..." from Zamaane Ko Dikhana Hain (for me this is best R D Burman song). I hated Rishi Kapoor for a weeks after watching Saagar though. I was a big Kamal fan and was heartbroken when Rishi's character won Dimple's character's affection. Needless to say, I found it difficult to hate Dimple. Irrfan lives in an entirely different space. Though I am awed by his presence on the screen, I cannot remember a single instance of his acting. On putting in some thought, I realize that I found him incredible in The Lunchbox and The Namesake. I was watching the movie Kaarwan when I heard of his demise. I have also watched Qarib Qarib Single since. I liked watching these movies and like to believe that he had a lot of fun during their making. The respect he garnered from around the world became evident when messages of condolences poured from different parts of the world. We have lost many great performances during this pandemic.
The world continues to muddle along through the pandemic. The cases continue to rise in many parts of the world. In India it is rising alarmingly and Chennai has become one of the hot spots. Koyambedu market has spread the virus to many places in Tamilnadu and Kerala. It has reached a few kilometres from my place of residence too. Since the vegetable vendors are affected across the city, they could have spread it to customers too. This mean anyone of us could be affected. The panic buying a day prior to the complete lockdown has also increased the number of cases. The sale of alcohol is another right step in the wrong direction. Money is becoming a problem and people want to start working. We cannot live in lockdowns forever. Soon, the lockdown will end and we will be allowed to get out of our houses. The virus will live among us and we have to live with it. There will be illness and death but we have to learn to live with that too.
I should not have titled these entries as "Corona days". It is clear that Corona days are here to stay and anything I write for the next few months will be a part of Corona days. Maybe I should have called it "Lockdown days".
