How people of Kerala helped kill Rajan

One of the many excesses of the emergency rule imposed by Indira Gandhi was the custody killing of Rajan, a student of the Calicut Regional Engineering College. Every one that followed the case known as Rajan Case gladly put the onus of the murder on K Karunakaran and the his police department but would overlook the part played in the murder by the Kerala voters. Germans living duriing time of Hitler was as responsible for the holocaust as Hitler was, they allowed it to happen, likewise by voting in the congress government to power during emergency when the rest of India voted to throw them out, we condoned the emergency and Karunakaran’s highhanded rule. We allowed him to kill our sons, we gave him the manndate to create a concentration camp in Kakayam, to torture our boys. Then how can we escape the blame. We killed Rajan by voting Karunakaran to power. We are as much to blame as he is.

If the most politically aware state in India were to vote according to their conscience, we would have wonderful honest people in the assembly, we would have MLAs dedicated to progress and growth, but what do we do, we vote for  the serial sexual molester, we vote for goondas , we vote for judge bribers, we vote according to religion, we vote according to caste. we vote for every reason other than the one we should be voting for. Well, then we deserve the rulers we get, we deserve the murders, molesters, briber, bribe takers we put in the Assembly and we have no right to complain, because we put them there.

 

Top Five Regrets of the Dying

i have just copied a mail I received some time back. I forwarded the mail to a lot of people and then had the chance to speak to some of those people about it. The reactions I received mostly revealed the character of the people than of course any true feedback about the feelings they had about the contents of the mail.

Most of the people i spoke to were confident, nay over confident  pushy people who thought they could do no wrong now or ever. they were sure they had nor would have any regrets in life. Most of them told me they had looked after their parents, brought up their children wall and were really well off, so what regrets could they possibly have.

Yet looking at them as an outsider, you get the feeling that these guys are the ones going to have the most regrets when they lie on their death bed, because they have have lived by society’s rules, they have followed every rule laid down by family and the society, not once in their lives has spontaneity been the reason of any of their actions. Every deed has been measured and considered and debated on for a long before, before any action was taken. They are also the ones who would have been scared to enjoy life due to fear of disapproval by society.

Often when you read a mail like this, you need to have an open mind, be able to look beyond the usual duties prescribed by society. Ask yourself, whether you are living for yourself or for the society. Is being seen as perfect by society more important to you than goofing around with your children and being seen as silly by society. Is a clean and tidy so important to you that you refuse to buy toys for your children in fear that they will mess up the place by scattering the toys around. Look around maybe you are like, may be you know people like that, people with a clean house but unhappy children.

Well now read on…………..

 

Top Five Regrets of the Dying

By Bronnie Ware

 

For many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. Some incredibly special times were shared. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives. People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality. I learned never to underestimate someone’s capacity for growth. Some changes were phenomenal. Each experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them. When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again.

Here are the most common five: 1.

I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me

This was the most common regret of all. When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people have had not honored even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made. It is very important to try and honor at least some of your dreams along the way. From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realize, until they no longer have it.

2. I wish I didn’t work so hard

This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence. By simplifying your lifestyle and making conscious choices along the way, it is possible to not need the income that you think you do. And by creating more space in your life, you become happier and more open to new opportunities, ones more suited to your new lifestyle.

3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings

Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others.Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends

Often they would not truly realize the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying. It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier

This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realize until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again. When you are on your deathbed, what others think of you is a long way from your mind. How wonderful to be able to let go and smile again, long before you are dying.

Life is a choice. It is YOUR life. Choose consciously, choose wisely, choose honestly. Choose happiness.

Grey strands

As a youngster, I remember scoffing at people who freaked out at the sight of a few strands of grey hair on their heads. I thought it elegant to allow yourself to turn grey slowly. I thought dyeing grey hair was egoistic. But that was then, at a time when grey hair was the least of my worries. At a time,  when I could afford to scoff at the old and think of their worries as petty. But now, more specifically yesterday, as I combed my hair in a different style, I saw that a lot of the perfect jet black hair had turned silvery grey. I checked more and clumps of grey hair revealed themselves. It wass as if an entire clan of grey hair was hiding under the black hair. And I freaked out, truly had a breakdown. I felt young, then how is it that my hair felt it had to turn old.

Now for the solution, henna, dye, highlighting all those grey ones and acting as if all is well. I really do not want to age gracefully, I would rather put up a fight and prevent a grey head for a long, long time.

Why are we like this?

Vacation in recent years have always meant going back home, visiting family in Kerala. This also meant that for Thomas the world was a very small place, made up of home which was of course Dubai, then amma’s place Perumbavoor and appa’s place Kottayam. India was to him two districts in Kerala. So when we planned a trip to Bangalore this year, I looked forward to showing him that india was really huge, really bigger than his Dubai.

He was impressed by the airport in bangalore and once he reached the city he was happy to see McDonald’s, KFC, Pizza Hut and other fast food joints. Then he asked us, “Why are there so many small childen on the roads, knocking on car windows, selling things, begging? Why are they not in school?”

Then I looked around and saw the number of children on the roads, a face of India forgotten in the comfortable lifestyle in Dubai and we did not have beggars on the roads like this in Kerala. Thomas never having seen poverty on this scale was shocked.  Somehow seeing this on a daily scale, we tend to become immune to these sights and only someone fresh and new to it notice the poor. We Indians tend to complain that foreigners only notice and take pictures of these sights. that they like stereotyping us as poor, that they ignore the impressive growth we have had. We hate it that they complain about the commonwealth games , the poor infrastructure, shoddy building and the lack of hygiene. But   my seven-year old son can see the mess we are surrounded by, how can we as adults remain so indifferent.

Bangalore, touted as garden city, the center of all our technological hopes and dreams, the land of pubs and young westernised crowd, is really a decaying city, chronic power cuts, bad roads, scary traffic jams and no number of trendy fast food joints or swanky airport or shopping malls is going to make up for it. If this is the state of Bangalore, imagine the state of less fortunate cities.

When we are ruled by a PM, whose priority is being a yes man to American demands and juggling madam’s likes and dislikes, in an attempt to remain in power,  this is to be expected. But still, in the five years that we had, to get ready for the CWG, if this is what we have to show as the end result, I really think we deserve to be stereotyped and thought of as no more than a third world country populated by beggars and snake charmers.

Developement does mean rich people getting richer and leading a more comfortable life, but poor people getting a chance to break through the glass ceiling and having at least the basic necessities of life without having to resort to turning  their children into beggars.

In Heaven

Worshippers at Thurithiply on the 7th of September

The "Nercha" served at Thurithiply on sept 8th

Like the Jews of yore, who wished each other with the words,”Shalom, Next year in Jerusalem.”, my wish and prayer for each year is, “Let me spend this years Ettu Noyumbu at Thurithiply.” Ettu Noyumbu is Virgin Mary’s festival celebrated by Jacobite and Orthodox christians. It starts on the first of September and ends on the 8th, which day is believed to be Virgin Mary’s birthday. And in our church it is the biggest festival celebrated, attracting pilgrims from far off places. Actually the festival started as a small affair during the time Vellamparambil Achen was head of the church, he with his great organising power helped the festival grow, then when it became too big for him to handle, he was replaced with another priest. But by then the festival had its own momentum pushing it forward making it bigger year after year. Anyway for my cousins and me, all this happened when

At the head of the procession

we were teanagers, coming of age, taking interest in our appearance, wanting to look pretty, wanting other people to notice us, and it was also the time when my youngest uncle had got married, his bride, a young girl,  just 6 or 7 years older than us. She was young and she was our window into a world of clothes and jewellery and makeup. So come Ettu Noyumbu we would wait for the 8th of september to come around, it was the day of the Perunnal, the day of celebration after 7 days of prayer and noyumbu and on that day all of us would get dressed in sarees, all borrowed from the new aunt,, her blouses too fit us exactly and wearing her jewellery, we would go off to the church. A bevy of  young  girls dressed up in fineries. I can still feel my grandmother eyes on us, angry and mad that we were late for church, plus we were too well dressed for church. We acted like she was invisible, often telling her that, we were there in the front of the crowd near the gate and could not come to our usual place due to rush. My granny, happy to hear about the crowd her church was drawing would smile her forgiveness. That was then, now near 20 years later, so far away from home, Ettu Noyumbu is sorely missed every year. This year I was lucky enough to be there, but as the first few days were at Kottayam, I had to make do with going to Manarcadu Church for the service. Now Manarcadu Pally has the biggest Ettu Noyumbu festival in Kerala, drawing pilgrims from every where and also an income of crores but the 3 days I went there were days I really missed my church. The 4th day I went to Thuruthiply and the moment my feet touched the ground in  Thuruthiply, I was in heaven. I was happy, nostalgia filled, the crowds were huge and pleasing. I knew then that if God were to give a choice between heaven and Thurithiply

Worshippers standing inQueque to see the Sunoro of The Virgin Mary.

I would probably choose the latter. The next five days were spend at home, maybe I should call it heaven. Great five days, filling me with enough happiness and joy to carry me till the next time i am able to go for Ettu Noyumbu at Thurithiply. This year I was able to participate in the perunnal after 4 years,  as the last time was in 2006, wonder when another chance will come around.

Child’s perspective

My father was a great story teller and we learned about Ramayanam and Mahabharatham from him. He was so zealous about us knowing Hindu culture that we were even made to learn and recite passages from Bhagavath Geetha. So, anxious to continue the tradition I tell stories of Krishna and other Hindu Gods to my son and also buy up Amar Chitra Kathas on each vacation to India. So when my son wanted to know whom Krishna had married, I was pleased that he was paying attention. Any way, I told him that Krishna had married nearly 10,000 women. Then I waited for his reaction, because the first time I had heard about this, I had been angry at this very apparent polygamy. Even my father’s explanation, that ultimately all souls join the supreme soul which is represented by Vishnu and marrying 10,000 women by Krishna was basically the same as he is but an avatar of Vishnu, did not pacify me.

My son was wiser, he said, All those women are so lucky.”

“Why?”

“Because they are all married to a God and gods would never be angry, they would not shout when their wife makes a mistake. He will understand and correct her without being angry. Gods would be kind and full of love.”

I must say I was impressed by his perspective on this. Sometimes when we lose our way amidst hate and bigotry, it is good to ask for a child’s perspective on the issue.

The World Cup Years

Every four years the Soccer World Cup comes around and after the winners are declared and the trophy awarded, the year becomes part of the history as the World Cup year. Then football officianados dissect the games and analyse each goal. Pundits have a feild day on TV analysing the games for amatuers like us.

but for me these World Cup years, especially htose in the recent past are remembered for a different reason. From 1994 onwards, every world cup year, someone very close and dear have passed away of some sudden unexpected cause.

1994- Njama (My grandmother) passed away. A formidable woman, I always thought, nothing would fell her, that her strong will, would blow away all obstacles in her path.  That she would look death in the face, and tell it to take a walk. She had seemed invincible all through her life, yet a bout a nausea and headache ending in a diagnosis of brain tumour and within months she was no more. Just a memory.

1998- Mattemma (My great grandmother)  passed away. She was 102 when she passed away but till a few months prior to her death, she was very active, reading the newspaper, watching TV and holding long and profound discussions with everyone. Then a fall and a fracture later, she just withered away in a couple of months, almost as if she had lost the will to live.

2002- Achayan (My father in law). I know him from the stories people tell about him. An immensely brilliant and well read man, he came from a family where people, especially the men,  ususally lived past their hundredth birthday. So when a block was discovered in his thigh, no one took it seriously. But Compounded by a renal failure, he passed away at the age of 72, a relatively young age in a family reknowned for its longevity.

2006- Appan ( My father). Appan’s horoscope ended at the age of 50. We had a big bash for his fiftieth birthday. Even though a confirmed marxist and a person who rubbished any kind of superstition, he was a little worried about the way the horoscope ended at the age of 50. But when a decade passed by without incident, and he was in the pink of health, all of us heaved a sigh of relief. Then another five healthy years passed on. When he was 65 ( his birthday was on Jan 1), a phlemy cough, led to a diagnosis of lung cancer and a few months later he was no more.

This time around, we seem to have broken the curse of losing a loved one every four years. A lot of prayers are being said by a lot of people . Maybe God has relented and let us off the hook this time.

Designer wear to fight terrorists

After failing to stop the terrorists carnage in Mumbai with the arms at their disposal, the Mumbai police are crrently getting their uniforms redesigned by top celebrity designer manish malhotra in an attempt to charm the terrorists into submission. And they may well succeed given Pakisthani appetite for Hindi movies and Indian designer wear.

It seems mumbai police has yet to buy a single bullet proof vest for its force and the arms purchased by the force are outdated. According to The Hindu ,  ” The M4 Colt 5.56 Carbine purchased by the force is outdated. The Mumbai Police planners have chosen this assault weapon, which had been in service with militaries and special forces around the world just as it is being phased out.”

But what these critics don’t understand is the real strategic planning behind these decisions. When the mumbai police wears designer uniforms, they are you know ” dressed to kill” the terrorists and we should be seeing a lot of dead terrorists as they drop down and die coming into contact with the dressed up mumbai police especially when they hear the astronomical sums being paid to the designer to design them. I just hope the other states too would just adopt these measure and then we can have a truelly non violent way of getting rid of these pesky terrorists armed with the latest weapons.

I always knew, mumbai police is the best, Jai Ho Mumbai police

My brief encounter with Ravi Shastri

A long time ago as a teenager, I had a huge crush on Ravi Shastri, the handsome cricketer. I pestered my uncle to explain the rules of cricket to me so that I could watch the game. I watched all those boring live telecasts of test matches, sat through one day matches, all just to see Ravi Shastri. Then he broke my heart by falling in love with the  pretty starlet Amritha Singh. There were huge spreads of them together in all film magazines of the time. I hated her and him and wanted revenge.

And I had my chance when my uncle got a new jersey cow. Now Jersey cows are beautiful animals and this one was particularly beautiful with a shiny black skin with white markings. I offered to name her and named her Amritha Singh. My uncle wasn’t so sure about the name, as he felt, Vaironi, our chief farmhand would find it difficult to use such a big and strange name. But Vaironi just shortened the name and called her Amru.

Now there was another thing, Amru was pregnant and when she gave birth to a male calf, it was promptly given the name Ravi Shastri. Ravi Shastri was a handsome calf, he loved playing with our Alsatian and was a source of amusement to us children. When he had a bout of dysentery, my uncle worried about the press getting wind of this and about the next day’s headlines in the major newspapers. So we kept that quiet. Well, there is no revenge like that of a jilted woman, and more so if the woman happened to be infatuated teenager.

Sometime later the original Ravi Shastri and Amritha Singh split up, various reasons were given , though only a few of us knew that real reason was that, a son could not marry his mother. Like all teenagers, I lost interest in Ravi Shastri and moved on to more interesting things. God knows what happened to the calf. He must have been sold off to some butcher and must have ended up in some Mutton biriyani as mutton at some wedding.

Amru continued to live in our cow shed for a very long time. I remember, hearing her bellow out throughout the day and then in the night. We being NRI kids, had no idea what the ruckus was all about. On asking my grandmother, she would tell us, “Oh she is just restless”, then would glare at my uncle and mutter to him, “Get the Vet fast.” He would look sheepish and say, “He is on leave.”

We had no idea what was going on, till my farm bred cousin explained,” It is time for her to mate, and she will continue screaming till that happens. Now this was news to us and also an excellent opportunity for us to mock Amritha, after that each time she bellowed, we would chorus aloud,”Control Amru, control. A little more control.”

Luckily for her, the vet came back from his vacation soon and Amru was taken to the veterinary hospital and soon the belowing stopped, announcing that she was pregnant once again.

Of course now, Amru is long gone, though the original lady went on to marry Saif Ali khan and they had two children, before the marriage ended  in divorce. Now we no more get any news about her, the lady of the moment being Kareena Kapoor.

Proverbial thoughts

The Lalit Modi saga  brings to mind a lot of proverbs in malayalam, English and Hindi that fit the situation perfectly.

I think the best one in malayalam is ”Veli Kidannae Pambinae  eduthu madiyil Vakyuka” ( Removing the snake that was lying on the fence and keeping it on one’s lap) It means inviting unnecessary trouble by one’s silly actions. Well Modi certainly fits the bill.

“Cutting off the nose to spite the face” is a similar proverb in English.

“Apne pair pur kulhadi marna” is the apt one in Hindi.

Another one that I think fits well is “Mallannu kidannu thupukka” ( Lying on one’s back and spitting into the air.)

Then there is “Swanthum pallinnada kuthi nattikyikka” ( Picking one teeth and making others smell it) Yucky, but very Modi like.

Of course,  there is “Vinasha kalle Vipiratha Bhuthi” (Well your time is bad, your decisions are crappy too)

“Power corrupts, Absolute power corrupts absolutely” That, well is Modi, who had begun to think of himself as a demigod, nay God himself.

I am sure there are lots more but each time I see Modi, I forget to write down the ones that pop into my mind.