LET THERE BE LIGHT

Winter Pics

2010-12-25T04:15:00.000-08:00

Dil se re – says Shakila Chechi

2010-10-23T06:45:00.000-07:00

Bottom most but not the least – is what the state of the State of Kerala now. With the Kerala government announcing 50% reservation for women contestants in Panchayat elections, the state has gained ‘women on top’ status in one more field. Kerala ranks no.1 in the nation in terms of sex ratio, literacy rate and women literacy in particular. Now one more flower to their oiled hair.

The decision has been widely accepted by various organizations of the state especially by the poster eating cows community. “The State glamourification project has led leading parties to paste innumerous posters all over the place and we are having a Jumbo treat” said a pregnant cow to our animal husbandry specialist. Palakkad, a place often confused to be in TN or Kerala is all celebrations. The UAE government has announced special flights to kerala at cheaper rates for the keralites to visit their kith and kin on this special occasion.

“This is against Islam” roared Sheik Abdul Rehman al Haziq, a leading political activist from Abudhabi. “We do not allow our women even to pose for a passport size photo and we expect our mallu brothers also to follow this tradition, afterall they form half the population of Middle East”. A strong tinge of dissatisfaction and the quench to have an opium shot was clearly visible on his face.

On the other hand, the men residing in Kerala are extremely happy. “Leave the sheik

s alone I say, Let me clarify things, myself Balram Nair” introduced himself, a leading Banana chips seller at Aalapuzha Bus Depot. “See, basically LoRdu Shiva was a Nair , you can guess that from the styles of his hair bun and that of nairs. He gave holff of his body to Parvathi, and we give half seats to our women. Simple logic ille ?” Although the reporters of L&R could not accept that Lord Shiva was a nair, a fairly decent analogy drawn using him was appreciated.

“It was like a wet dream come true” said Liril babykutti, the chairman of ‘All India Omanakutty association. “We mallu women had always proved the world that we are the best and first when it comes to women liberation.” Whether Indian government recognizes this or not, the South African government officials unanimously agreed to it especially after noticing that the Waka Waka –Mallu version has more hits in you tube than the original Shakira version.

The world famous, ubiquitous, double seater Shakila feels that it was a heart touching decision. Sources indicate that she will be running in elections competing from atleast 5 locations. “Our women are bored of staying home and playing cheta-chechi game for generations. We need to come out and show the world what we are” said she in a late night press conference arranged near Lovely Lodge, Cochin.

With all these buzzing happening around, Rakhi sawant has announced that ‘Rakhi Ka swayamvar – Season 3’ will be held in Ernakulam and only Malayalee men are entitled to participate. Babli kaur , her personal assistant said that Rakhiji could find her perfect match only in an open minded and ‘open hearted’ place like kerala.

PS- L&R does not publish articles based on the grudge that editor has on mallu boys who ‘corrected’ his childhood darling.

Thatsy Tamilians use an extra ‘h’ – A Sheila Dikshit case study

2010-10-20T15:08:00.000-07:00

The NRIs and confused desis of New Zealand are fuming at the Sheila ‘Dikshit’ issue. It seems like this is the year of Pauls – be it popularity or controversy. Probably India should not have committed for heavy duty stuffs like CWG. If not for it, such son of clowns from a nowhere land wouldn’t have had the need to talk about Sheila. While the whole of Dikshit clan is wondering what to do with the huge helium balloon in an effort to pretend as if nothing had happened I feel how cool it is to be a Tamilian.

It’s quite obvious for city girls to fall for some Arjun Singh than for a Sivagurunadhan Raamamirdham, but look at your preferences on a global platform. An Arjun Singh or Sunny Goel wearing turban and walking into the streets of London asking “Sirji, kann you tellu mee where this place is’ is sure of getting racially abused. Like Paul Henry most of social and asocial racists begin with the name. If he asks “why are you Sanjay Singh and not Sanjay Dance”, you are left with no other options apart from updating a furious status message in Facebook or end up listening Alisha’s ‘Made in India’ on Youtube.

In these cases Tamilians are completely unabusable. By the time a Westerner works out how to pronounce Marudhalinga Sadaiyathevar you can walk two miles away. At least now one should accept that we are the most advanced races of all. We knew the world will depend on Indians’ brains one day and we will spread like Trojan virus all over the world. We also knew there will Racism. Cautiously we named ourselves with complex phonetics that no one would even dare to make fun of.

In less complex names, we included an extra ‘h’, an effort to warn the aggressive in-house racists. Satya would be Sathya in Tamil Nadu, Bharti will be Bharathy. I laugh my spine off at that hapless Gujju friend of mine who cast a PJ once “Hutch has two ‘h’ because it was invented in Tamil Nadu”. His name was Hardik Patel. Thank Jai Sri Krisna, he dint get to go to NZ. In the same lines, if Sheila Dikshit had been a tamilian, she would have been conservatively named Sheela Dheekshith, leaving no scope for Paul Henry to even to think about dirty stuffs.

If not for a famous underwear brand, she would at least rename herself ‘Dixit’. The Leader of opposition in the Parliament feels that our dignity has been screwed in an unrecoverable manner once again in international arena, leaving no option other than sticking onto ‘tolerant nation’ status.

Let the dikshits and kalmadis worry about disposing the helium balloon and clearing the condoms blocked drainage.

Singing in the rain “Appadi podu podu podu”

Yours

One Incident , Several Questions.... Several Incidents, Same Question

2010-01-13T14:40:00.000-08:00

Its with extreme pain and fear im writing this. Recently, in the state of Tamil Nadu, India a government servant - a cop to be precise was attacked by a group of Hooligans and left on the road in a pool of blood. Its rather a shame to say that such incidents are common in our country or to put it simple - 'we are used to it'.

The victim is no more, but his last few moments can be seen in this attached video. Out of so many incidents, the particular reason why this murder caught attention is the victim did not die in a no man's land. He died in front of 30 + helpless people. The reason for so much agitation among people is, the observers involved a couple of Ministers accompanied with his security forces. If not for their presence, probably his death would not have gained much political attention. I saw this video in many of my friends' Facebook home page, blogs etc. And I also found a group of agitated people passing on furious comments. One aspect that affected most of them including me is that the victim was not helped but his death was video taped and aired. A group of people condemn those ministers who did not help. I was amused to see an interview where the TV channel that recorded his death was firing questions at the minister who failed to help. Two inhuman criminals trying to find the better among them. NEITHER OF THEM (TV Channel and Minister) WERE OBLIGED TO HELP. After 63 years of unruly politics, indian citizens are pretty convinced that Ministers and other politicians are not meant for helping people, leave alone helping another government servant.

Like most of my pals, even iam disappointed that the TV channel officials have recorded his death instead of carrying him to the nearby hospital. There are few questions that arise in my mind. How did the TV channel vehicle reach the spot ? Someone must have called them and informed about the incident. Im quite sure that they would have also known that the victim is in bad state. The person who informed the TV station could/would have called the nearby hospital too. Its a pity that the ambulences in India arent even as fast as a TV channel's vehicle. Just for a backup, the TV channel people could have made some arrangements to help the victim on the spot, else atleast could have dared to carry the victim in their caravan to nearby hospital. Neither of the above happened. Out of all other possible options, they decided to record his death. Imagine how would the victim's wife and children feel while seeing him die helplessly. Will his son grow up and add his dad's death video in his FB's video links ? Its also possible that one day the same TV channel would interview the victim's family members and ask questions like "How did you feel when you saw him die?" , "whom do you think is the reason for his death?".

At the first place why are they doing this ? I got my answer easily - 'they dont want lives, they want live news'. Moreover news carrying sorrow sell more than those carrying happiness. There lives a sadistic animal in most of the viewers that loves to watch people getting killed, buildings collapse etc. And my dear people, we pay for these channels every month so that they come up with more pain and sorrow. If they had saved that victim, it would have been a normal news. Even if they had tried to blow their trumpet like "XYZ TV saves India" with vande mataram music at background, it doesnt work. Viewers will shift to some reality shows where participants, judges, hosts everyone are crying.

I asked myself a question. "Isnt possible that what happened to this victim is quite likely to happen to us tomorrow?". My father is 51 years old and he drives a scooter in chennai roads. He is quite likely that he falls victim to a road accident anyday, and again these media vehicles would reach much earlier than the aiding vehicles. Those people who would have the oppurtunity to save a life wouldn't save because they are not obliged to. It is so easy to say "Thats not my duty". In that case why do I pay and watch these channels. Even that SI who died would have had a cable connection at his home and he would also paid for it. What for ? To live telecast his death to his family ?

I asked one of my friends, "What if we dont watch these channels, what if we disconnect cable connection and live a TV free life?" . He said "Only that particular channel had been ruthless, other programs in other channels are good and informative". I completely disagree with this argument. Im sure that the other channels that missed the opportunity of being in the spot would only be lamenting for not having a hot news first hand. As long as the concept of TRPs exist all are same. What if we bring them down. If 10000 people in a state disconnect cable connection from their houses, that itself will be a news and would convey people's anger. But I know its not possible. TV has taken over our lives. We cannot live without them. We cannot celebrate a festival without watching a couple of new films, few talk shows, some actors' interview etc. They have redefined what life and living means to us. As Ram kumar said "The biggest criminal is in power".

There had been many such incidents. "Chennai Law college fight" is one of hottest topics in Youtube. Just search for it and everything is self explanatory. A student was beaten to death in front of a huge crowd. Would it have happened if it was the son some powerful politician ? No answer.

Then what else is the solution. My blood boils whenever i see something like "for viwers' interest" on TV. There is no consideration for our lives and still we dont mind paying them or encouraging them. This addcition to entertainment is giving rise to social devils and we are not much bothered about it. One of the reasons is statistics. Statisticians say that these incidents happen only to one in 100000 people and that sounds convincing. Such statistics and interpretations give no room for ethics and sympathy.

I wandered with such thoughts and found something peculiar in Germany. In Germany there exists a law that says one is obligated to help a suffering victim in public places. If someone is found to have ignored a victim, he/ she shall be sued. The law in Section 323c Failure to Render Assistance goes like this -

"Whoever does not render assistance during accidents or common danger or need, although it is required and can be expected of him under the circumstances and, especially, is possible without substantial danger to himself and without violation of other important duties, shall be punished with imprisonment for not more than one year or a fine."

how good does that sound. The country's law enforces people to show sympathy. It restricts people from being inhuman. Is it possible to bring such a law in India ? Or even it is enforced, would it make a difference ? . I honestly don't know. India's potential to be uncertain is enormous. But, I belive in the energy levels that today's young generation carry. This piece of information can spread like a forest fire. It can ignite the thoughts of millions of those. This rule may not turn our conditions upside down. But it will act as a warning for all those 'socially careless' people. Everybody is answerable. We cant say anymore that "when its everybody's mistake, its nobody's mistake". Let us strive to enforce this law. Let us strive to change our attitude. After so many incidents and blog entries, only one question rises again and again "When will our country change?"

BOLLYWOOD NIGHT

2009-11-17T02:23:00.000-08:00

18/11 Video

2009-11-15T06:41:00.000-08:00

Today I laughed like I have never laughed before. This Video was taken when these mobiles with camera were not so popular. Dunno how gautam got it after such a long time. The guy in the extreme corner with green T Shirt rocks. Listen when he screams 'yaarukkume theriyadhoo' and note gautam's reaction.

Mumbai wale dulhaniya le jaayenge

2009-11-03T23:59:00.000-08:00

Only local train passengers in Mumbai will know how helpful commuters
try to be......

Last week, a hapless victim fell prey to the over enthusiastic Bombay's
local train commuters.

Our hero, a man from Pune, wanted to go to Matunga, but as luck and
trains would have it, boarded a fast train not halting at his
destination. He panicked on realising his mistake but by then the local
had started moving. On seeing his plight, a sympathetic co-passenger
decided to come to his rescue.

It seemed that he had been commuting by that particular train (6:03pm
Kasara Fast) for the past 6 years and had noticed that the train always
slowed down just before Matunga station and crawled at a snail's pace
while passing through it. He told the man to jump out of the running
train as it slowed down and that with a little bit of fleet-footedness,
he would make it safely on terra firma. However, knowing the man's
inexperience, he added some words of caution:

"Keep running the moment you jump or you'll fall. Just keep running." He
stressed the word "running" lest the man not know the laws of motion.
The train did slow down just before Matunga station and at the prompting
of his mentor, our hero jumped out of the train and started running as
if all hell had broken loose.

What he didn't realise, of course, was that he was running parallel to
the train instead of running away from it. Meanwhile, the train slowed
down further, so that the man was running faster than the train. In the
process, he reached the door of the next compartment and the footboard
commuters there pulled him in thinking he was trying to board the train!
To his agony, the train picked up speed and sped past Matunga and his
new co-passengers started to congratulate him on how lucky he had been,
until he told them that they had actually undone what he had done with
great difficulty.

Those standing at the door of his "ex-compartment" had witnessed the
whole drama and just couldn't stop laughing at the poor man's situation,
while he grinned sheepishly!!!

இயற்கையுடன் ஒரு நேர்காணல்

2009-04-02T12:40:00.000-07:00

இன்றைய இளைஞர்களை போல கோபமோ கம்யூனிசமோ எனக்கு கிடையாது . Sympathy உண்டு empathy கிடையாது. ஆதலால் Venezuela நாட்டின் போர் பற்றியோ, கியூபா நாட்டு பொருளாதாரம் பற்றியோ சிந்தித்து என் கடுகளவு மூளையினை நான் கசக்கி கொள்வதில்லை. "ஆனது ஆயிட்டு போறது டா " என்று பாட்டிசொல்வது போல வாழ்ந்து வருகிறேன்.

கடுகு என்று கூறும் போது நினைவுக்கு வருகிறது. உணவுக்கும் மனிதனுக்கும் , குறிப்பாக தமிழ் மொழிக்கும் உள்ள உறவை கண்டு வியக்கிறேன். இலக்கிய போதை தலைக்கு ஏறும் போது இப்படியெல்லாம் யோசிப்பது உண்டு. சிறு வயதிலிருந்து என் அம்மா என்னை காய் கறிகள் அதிகம் சாப்பிட சொல்லி வற்புறுத்துவாள். அன்றிலிருந்தே காய் கறிகள் மீது எனக்கு ஒரு கண். எல்லோரும் போல வெண்டைக்காய் மூளைக்கு நல்லது, காரட் கண்ணுக்கு நல்லது, பாவற்காய் சாப்பிட்டால் வயித்தில் பூச்சி வளராது, கரனை கிழங்கு சாப்பிட்டால் அரிப்பு எடுக்கும், முருங்கை வீரியம் தரும் என்று பழைய பஞ்சாங்கம் பாடாமல் காய் கறிகள் படும் பாட்டை காய் கரிகளாகவே வாழ்ந்து பாத்திருக்கிறேன்.

இரண்டாம் வகுப்பு படிக்கும் பொழுது சக மாணவி ஜெ .பவித்ராவுடன் சண்டை. என்னிடம் 'காய்' விட்டு விட்டாள் . மனம் நொந்து போனேன். என்னிடம் உள்ள கோவத்தை நேரடியாக சொல்ல வேண்டியதானே. எதற்காக பாவம் காய்களை நடுவில் இழுக்க வேண்டும். கோவம், வருத்தம் போன்ற துக்கம் சார்ந்த உணர்ச்சிகளின் சின்னமா காய் கறிகள் ? உணர்ச்சி வாச பட்டு அவளிடம் விளக்கம் கேட்டேன். "காய் கசக்கும் , அது கேட்டது ; பழம் இனிக்கும் , அது நல்லது" என்றும் பதில் அளித்தாள். Paracetamol tablet கூட தான் கசக்கும், ஏன் "உன் மேல் paracetamol போ" என்று சொல்லலாமே. என்ன ஒரு விந்தை. காய் கறிகளும் மனிதர்களை போல தான். இளமையில் உறுதியுடனும், கடுமையாகவும் இருக்கிறோம். நாட்கள் நகர நகர அனுபாவம் பெற்றி , பழுத்து , உறுதி இழந்து, இனிதாகி ஒரு நாள் அழுகி மடிகிறோம். ஒரே வித்யாசம் பழங்களுக்கு இருக்கும் மரியாதை முதியோர்களுக்கு கிடையாது. சிவா பெருமானின் புதல்வர்கள் சண்டை போட்டு கொண்டது பழத்திற்காக தான். காய்க்காக அல்ல. முருக பெருமான் அவ்வை பாட்டியிடம் சுட்ட 'பழம்' தான் கேட்டார். கௌண்டமணி செந்திலை பெரிய அளவில் பிரபலம் ஆக்கியது ஒரு பழம் தான். இப்படிபழம் அனைவர் கண்களுக்கும் பழம் விருந்து பொருளாகவே அமைந்து காய்களை ஓரம் கட்டி விட்டது என்றே சொல்லலாம். "நெறைய காய் கறி சாப்டா தான் மூளை நல்ல வளரும், படிச்சு பெரிய ஆள் ஆகலாம்" என்றும் அம்மா சொல்லுவாள். ஆனால் அப்படி படித்து பெரிய அளவுக்கு வருபவர்களை இந்த சமூகம் 'பழம்' என்று தான் அழைக்கும். காய் கறிகளின் புகழை பழம் எப்படி தட்டி செல்லலாம் என்றும் சொல்லி, படிக்காமலே விட்டு விட்டேன். நான் இப்பொழுது ஏன் ஊதாரியை திரிகிறேன் என்று யாரவது கேட்டால் இந்த சமூகத்தை தான் சாடுவேன் .

ஏழாம் வகுப்பு படிக்கும் போது எனக்கு சதீஷ் இன்று ஒரு நண்பன் இருந்தான். அவன் வீட்டுக்கு நெல்லிகாய் தின்னவும், கிரிக்கெட் விளையாடவும் போவது வழக்கம் . சதீஷ் சுமாராக விளையாடுவான். 'பொங்கு' அடிப்பதில் வல்லவன். ஆனால் அவனுக்கு படிப்பு வராது, வராது என்றால் நம் தேர்வுகளில் தேறும் அளவுக்கு வராது. நான் வகுப்பில் இரண்டாம் ரேங்க் வாங்கினால் அவன் இரண்டு மதிப்பெண்கள் வாங்குவான். அவன் தந்தை ஒரு காட்டு மிராண்டி. மனித உடல் உறுப்புகளை கெட்ட வார்த்தைகளாக மாற்றி திட்டும் மாமனிதர். அவர் சொற்களில் உள்ள கொச்சை எவர் காதுகளை பதம் பார்த்து விடும். நாராசம் ததும்பும். ஒவ்வொரு முறை தேர்வு முடிவுகள் வந்த உடன் என்னை காட்டி , 'இந்த பய்யன் மூத்திரத்தை வாங்கி குடி டா , அப்போவசும் அறிவு வருத பாப்போம்' என்பார். நினைத்து பார்கவே அருவருப்பாக இருக்கும். ஆல்பர்ட் ஐன்ஸ்டீன் மூத்திரத்தை போலியோ சொட்டு மருந்து போல் எல்லோருக்கும் குடுத்திருந்தால் உலகில் எல்லோரும் விஞானிகள் ஆகி இருப்போமே என்று சொல்லு தோணும், ஆனால் பயம் பொருட்டு சொல்லாமல் விட்டு விடுவேன். ஒரு முறை இது போல தான் என் சிறுநீரை சதீஷ் மனதில் வார்த்தைகளால் தெளித்து கொண்டிருந்தார். சட்டென்று என்னை பார்த்து "சரியான மாங்காய் மடயன் தம்பி இவன்" என்றார். பொருத்தது போதும் என்று பொங்கி எழுந்து வீட்டுக்கு ஓடி விட்டேன். சதீஷுக்கு அறிவு இல்லை என்றால் அது அவன் பூர்விக கோளாறு, ஆர்வ கோளாறு. இதற்கிடையில் மாங்காய் என்ன பாவம் பண்ணித்து. ஏன், மாம்பழ மடயன் என்று திட்ட வேண்டியதானே. மாங்கய்க்கும் மூடதனதிர்க்கும் என்ன சம்பந்தம். அவர் தம் கெட்ட வார்த்தை பட்டியலில் வேறு வார்த்தையே கிடைக்க வில்லையா . காய் என்றால் அவ்வளவு ஏளனமா ? சரக்கு அடிக்கும் போது இதே காய் தானே சைடு டிஷ் ஆகா தன்னையே அர்ப்பணித்து கொள்கிறது. அதை நக்கி தின்று விட்டு இப்படி நன்றி கெட்டதனமாக நடந்து கொள்கிறீர்களே என்று மனதுக்குள் வெம்பி சதீஷுடன் இருந்த நட்புக்கு முற்று புள்ளி வைத்தேன்.

சினிமா காரர்களும் காய்கறிக்கு மரியாதை குடுத்தே இல்லை. பெண்களை வர்ணிக்க எப்பொழுதும் பழங்களையே நாடுகிறார்கள். பைன் ஆப்பிள் வண்ணம், ரெட் ஆப்பிள் கன்னம், செர்ரி இதழ்கள், திராட்சை கண்கள் என்றெல்லாம் கற்ப்பனை குதிரையை ஓட விடுகிறார்கள். ஏதோ ஒரு விஞானி வெண்டைக்காய்கு லேடீஸ் பிங்கர் என்று பெயர் இட்டு சென்றதோடு சரி , காய் கறிகள் தம் உரிமையை அறவே இழந்து விட்டன.

இப்படியாக இருக்க ஒரு முறை சென்னையில் ஒரு பழைய நண்பனை சந்திதேன். பல ஊர் கதைகள் பேசிய பிறகு என்னை பார்த்து 'என்ன மச்சான் பூசணி காய் மதிற் குண்டாய்ட்டே' என்றான். இறைவா.... இதற்க்கு முடிவே கிடையாதா? பருமனாக இருக்கும் ஒருவரை எத்தனையோ பொருட்களுடன் ஒப்பிடலாம். எல்லாவிட்டு விட்டு ஏன் பூசனிக்காயை அவமான படுத்துகிறார்கள் என்று நினைத்து சோகமாகிவிட்டேன். அதற்க்கு "ஏண்டா மூஞ்சி சுண்டக்காய் மாதிரி சுரிங்கிடுசு?" என்றான். ஆஆஆஆஆ

செஸ், லுடோ, செக்கேர்ஸ், ஆடு புலி ஆட்டம், பரம பதம் போன்ற விளையாட்டுகளை விளையாட 'coin' கள் தேவை. அதை கூட தமிழில் 'காய்' என்பார்கள். 'coin' இன் சுருக்கம் காயா இல்லை 'காய்' இன் விரிவாக்கம் coin ஆ என்பது தெரியாது. யார் அந்த விளையாட்டை கண்டு பிடித்தாரோ அவரை தான் கேட்க வேண்டும். 'இந்த காயை நகர்த்து' , ' அந்த காயை வெட்டு' என்று என் நண்பர்கள் விளையாடும் போது பேசுவதை கேட்டால் வெறுப்பாக இருக்கும். எவ்வளவு ஊட்ட சத்து நிறைந்த காய்களை இப்படி மரியாதை இன்றி நடத்துகிறீர்களே என்று கேட்பேன். கேட்பதோடு சரி .

ஹமாம் சோப்பு இயற்கை அன்னை என்றால் , நான் இயற்கையின் தம்பி. கிளிஞ்சல்களின் சத்தம், நதியோடையின் இசை, நட்சத்திரங்களின் முனகல், நிலவின் விசும்பல், ஆத்து மணலின் தும்மல், மேகங்களின் விக்கல், மரங்களின் கொட்டாவி, சூரியனின் குறட்டை போன்று அனைத்து சத்தங்களும் எனக்கும் கேட்க்கும். எனது சுக துக்கங்களை நட்சிரங்களுடன் பகிர்ந்து கொள்வதை பழக்கமாக வைத்திருக்கிறேன். சில காலம் ஒரு நிலவுடன் பகிர்ந்து கொண்டிருந்தேன். இரு நிலாக்களுடன் வாழும் பாக்யம் பெற்றுறிந்தேன்.

இப்படியாக இயற்கையின் மேல் இயைர்கையாக காதல் கொண்டிருந்த நேரம் ஒரு 'பூசணிக்காய் எனக்கு SMS அனுப்பியது- "ஏண்டா என்ன பாடாய் படுத்துறீங்க?" என்று. அதனுள் இருக்கும் கோபம் கலந்த துக்கம் எனக்கு புரிந்தது. புது வீடு குடிபுகு விழாவாக இருக்கட்டும், நாடார் கடை திறப்பு விழாவாக இருக்கட்டும், கட்சி ஊர்வலம்க இருக்கட்டும், பாட்ஷா ரஜினியாக இருக்கட்டும், பூசணிக்காயில் ஒரு துளை இட்டு, அதனுள் குங்குமம், நாலு ௨0 பைசா நானையங்களை ரொப்பி நெடு ரோட்டில் போட்டு உடைப்பதை சம்ப்ரதயமாக கொண்டுள்ளனர். இதை பூசணிக்காய் சங்க தலைவர் வன்மையாக கண்டிக்கிறார். மனிதர்களின் திருஷ்டி கழிய வேண்டும் என்றால் எதற்கு பூசணிக்காயை துன்புறுத்த வேண்டும். இது தான் கொடுமை என்றால், வெந்த புண்ணில் வேலை பாய்ச்சுவது போல் பூசணி மேல் ஒரு கற்பூரம் வேறு. இது போன்று பூசணி பலாத்காரங்கள் இதோடு முடியவில்லை. ஒரு இளம் பூசணியின் மேனி முழுதும் பச்சை நிற வண்ணம் பூசி, அதன் மேல் அசிங்கமான ஒரு மூஞ்சியை வரைந்து வீடு வாசல்களில் தொங்க விட்டு திருஷ்டி கழிப்பது , இயற்கைக்கு புறம்பான சம்ப்ரதாயம். திருஷ்டி என்பது எவ்வளவு பெரிய அறிவியல் நோட்டம் கொண்ட சமாசாரம், அதை ஏதோ சிறுநீர் கழிப்பது போல் சுலபாமாக சொல்கிறார்களே. பாவம் அந்த பூசணி, இளமை முதல் முதுமை வரை வாயை பிளந்து கொண்டு தொங்கி தொங்கி சாகிறது. Lifebouy சோப்பு போட்டாலும் அதன் மேல் வரையப்பட்ட அசிங்கமான மூஞ்சி அழியாது என்பது பாதிக்க பட்டவரின் குற்றச்சாட்டு.

மதம் மாறுதல், சமயம் மாறுதல் ஆகியவை மிகவும் sensitive ஆனா விஷயம். எது , எப்போ , எங்கே வெடிக்கும் என்று சொல்ல முடியாது. பலருடைய வெறுப்பையும் கோவத்தையும் சம்பாதிக்க நேரிடும். புறக்கணிக்க படுவோம், அவமான படுத்த படுவோம். அந்த நிலை தான் பாவம் இந்த தக்காளி பழங்களுக்கு. மிக உயரிய 'பழ' குடியினரை சார்ந்தவராக இருந்தாலும், காலகாலமாக காய்கறிகளுடன் நெருங்கிய பழக்கம் வைத்து கொண்டது தக்காளி. Fruit shop on greams road இல் தக்காளி கிடைக்காது. ஆனால் 'கோபால் காய் அங்காடி' யில் கிடைக்கும். எவ்வளவு தான் சமுதாயம் மாறினாலும், open mindedness பெருகினாலும், அடிப்படை வெறுப்பு உணர்வுகள் பரிணாமம் பெறவில்லை. அதனால் தான் மீதி காய் கறிகள் தக்காளியை மதிப்பதில்லை. சேஷாத்ரி ஐயங்கார் என்னதான் 30 வருஷம் காபுல் இல் குப்பை கொட்டினாலும் பாகிஸ்தான் கிரிக்கெட் டீம் இல் இடம் பெற முடியாது. இது இயற்கை, அதாவது மனிதனால் செயற்கையாக உருவாக்கப்பட்ட இயற்கை. 'கண்ணாடி திரை' என்று கவிஞர்கள் வர்ணிப்பார்கள். இதனால் என்ன ஆயிற்று, எவரேனும் தவறு செய்தால் அவரை அவமான படுத்த தக்காளியால் அடிப்பது வழக்கமாகி விட்டது. "இந்தா மவனே, நீயும் இந்த தக்காளி மாதிரி மானமற்றவன்" என்று சொல்லாமல் சொல்வது தான் தக்காளியால் அடிக்கும் பழக்கம். ஒரு அவமான சின்னமாக நம்மை பயன் படுத்துகிறார்களே இம்மனிதர்கள் என்ற கோவத்தில் தக்காளிகள் அனைத்தும் மாநாடு ஏற்பாடு செய்து ஒரு முடிவுக்கு வந்தது "மனிதர்கள் அடி வயித்தில் கை வைப்போம்" என்று. எவரேனும் தக்காளி அதிகம் சாப்பிட்டால், கிட்னியில் கல் உருவாகும் (calcium oxalate deposition). உடனடி பலன் கிடைத்தது. மனிதர்கள் தக்காளியை தொடவே பயப்பட்டார்கள். இந்த வெற்றி களிப்பில் தக்காளிகள் மிகவும் சந்தோஷமாக இருந்தது. ஆனால் அது மிக நாட்கள் நீடிக்கவில்லை. எந்த மூதேவி கண்டு பிடித்தானோ தெரிய வில்லை, மனிதர்கள் தக்காளியை முட்டையுடன் சேர்த்து அடிக்க தொடங்கினார். கேவலம் தக்காளியுடன் சேர்த்து அடிக்கிரிர்களே என்று கோழிகள் முட்டையிடவே வெட்க்க படுகின்றன.

பார்த்தீர்களா, இது தான் Chaos theory. எங்கோ , எவருடனோ தொடங்கும் ஒரு மூட நம்பிக்கை யாரோ ஒருவரின் அடிப்படைகளின் மேல் தாக்கம் உண்டாக்குகிறது. ஒரு தனி மனிதனின் வெறி யூதர்களை கொன்றது. மாட்டு தோல், பன்றி தோல் இதில் பெரியது எது என்ற மூர்க்க தனமான சந்தேகங்களினால் எத்தனையோ உயிர்கள் பலியாயின. நாம் செய்யும் செயல்களினால் உண்டாகும் பலன்கள் அனைத்தும் நம் கண்களுக்கு தெரிவதில்லை. எங்கோ ஒரு மூலையில் , எவரோ ஒருவர் பாதிக்க படத்தான் செய்கிறார். இதை மனதார உணர முயற்பட்டபோது நான் கண்டது தான் இந்த இயற்கையுடன் ஒரு நேர்காணல்.

It is Written

2009-03-17T06:26:00.000-07:00

There is nothing wrong in blaming the fate if you have got nothing else to blame at. To a certain extent, it is a wise way of handling situations. Tam-Brahms (Tamil-Brahmins) call it ‘thalai eluthu’. The common belief is that, a person’s fate i.e., biography is written on his forehead. Interesting right? We fell hundred trees to write an essay on ‘How to save trees’ and here our entire life history is comprehended over few inches of flesh and skin. Or is it like there are multiple layers of skin each having written on it the various phases of our life and as we grow old, the layers get naturally peeled off one by one, exposing only the latest ? When we are young, we don’t have worries, our skin doesn’t get peeled off nor have wrinkles. The early part of life in most of the cases is filled with pleasure. As we grow old, miseries build up; skin peels off or wrinkles up exposing the latest part of our fate on the forehead. Hence, if we apply sun screen lotion, kaaya-kalpam or any other cosmetics that ‘cares’ skin, we can win over the fate. Actress-Hema malini looks seductive even at 60, because of her life long ‘make up’. Doing so, she did not let her skin get peeled off, which means the divine code (fate) written for her young age has not withered and hence she is happy and seductive till date. This looks like the best understanding I have ever had on the mankind.

I’m anatomically disfigured with an abnormally shaped head. The other assets of course are equally unpleasing. As a result, I’m also gifted with a broad and large forehead. If a normal person can apply three fingers full of sacred ash on his forehead, I can apply four. Many say that the concept of ‘Golden ratio’ fails when applied to my body. Coming to the point, with a large forehead God should have written a lot over it. A lot doesn’t always mean for good. Bullshit, failures, frustrations, distraught can also be in ‘lots’. May be god has given me a lot in that sense. Of course, it’s not unfair from her side as well (being a female chauvinist/promotionist I always address god as a female only). Given a ream of paper, doesn’t mean that everybody will write a lot in the exams. A few write a lot, a few remain unprejudiced and a few dare to create things like ‘paper-plane’, ‘knifed-ship’ etc with the remaining paper.

What I understand is god has been forced to write a ‘mid-semester’ exam on a Saturday afternoon over a large piece of fore-head. As a mark of showing vengeance she has scribbled and stabbed like a lunatic, which eventually happened to be my ‘fate’. Creating 1 failure model among a million is acceptable. She still falls into the six-sigma and ISO 14001 norms comfortably. Since, I’m a product of a frustrated examination, I always hate exams. Either I hate exams or the examiners hate me. I’m sure ‘IT IS WRITTEN’. Else how can someone so craftily screw exams for two decades at a stretch?

The concept of exam itself is unfair. It essentially expects those qualities that are not in me. Or else, if I try to develop qualities compatible for the exam, the expectations change. By the time I developed the skills of multiplication and division of numbers, the world started asking questions on something called ‘calculus’. Moreover the system is so ruthless that nothing can be fruitful without exams. They have become some sort of ‘scanning machine’ literally. Scanning machines, which develop their own operating manual. I should have solved some 100 tormenting math problems and 75 cryptic verbal problems within 120 minutes to prove that I’m eligible for studying managerial courses. There are some questions which I will never understand even after several phases of evolution. Instead of appreciating my chevalier effort to solve those problems, the examiners penalize for giving wrong answer. I see this as a crime against humanity.

Man, who cares whether a circular lawn measures 80 m or 82 m. If it measures a meter or two more, let it. Why should I scratch my head for a hypothetically existing man’s property? Raju decided to share his property among ‘n’ people, and followed by a series of constraints, the question is who gets the maximum share? Why should I fight in some one else’s feud? The fact is I’m shameless. In spite of getting insulted by the concept of exams since childhood, I’m still addictive towards them. People pay and drug themselves for pleasure. I pay and examine myself for pain.

Recently, I experimented my skills in a computer based exam. I call that as an ‘anti-social’ element. It very well knows that I’m a non-English speaker; in fact I speak my national language itself with lot of difficulty. Still, it expects me to know the antonyms for words like receptacle, vociferous, etc. I have never used such bombastic words since birth nor can one expect me to use them in future. The examiners expect me to remember things even if I’m not interested and even if they are going to be of no use. They least know that i have a very small memory card in my head which is already filled with trivial and filthy stuffs. Where do I find space for this never ending vocabulary?

God, isn’t your duty to make sure that I get a question paper that challenges me within the scope of my skill set? Krishna, you don’t fight after 6pm right? Whenever your opponents claimed bad light, you gracefully accepted for a ‘day end’. I also heard that you did not allow arjuna to shoot at guy who was weaponless. Lord Shiva, you gave the blessed ‘kesar’ mango to your elder son ganesha right. You know what, me and lord ganesha have many similarities. One being, the protruding belly. The race in which you indulged your two sons demanded speed, accuracy, sense of direction and driving skills. Ganesha didn’t have any of these skills; moreover his vehicle was very tiny. But he had other virtues- ambition, convincing power, passion and marketing skills. You promptly recognized his skills and awarded him. Why not me then? Even I have skills and virtues which are not taken into consideration. Everybody can’t afford to have their dad as the examiner. You convinced the inmates of heaven and justified your decision because you have a life size ‘trishool’ in your hand and your third eye is as powerful as Laser. My dad can’t go and fight the examiners- the greatest weapon he ever possessed was a Hack-saw blade. You have written something on his fore head as well, the place where you have your laser eye. After all, I being talentless is your ‘engineering error’ and my dad not being an examiner is your ‘administrative error’. Be democratic yaar. I work 310 days an year for this organization. They don’t offer me a holiday on my birth day, but they announce a universal holiday for your son’s birth day.

I understand that you are too bugged with hell a lot of such accusations. The other day I noticed a girl in front of your cabin; her prayer was that her boy friend should like here new pair of jeans. Your scope of work has increased considerably. But you are not able to cope up. What to do, nobody is perfect and many claim you are nobody. Whether you exist or not is not known, but you are wanted. I’m not an atheist; at least I won’t be one until I settle down financially. I understand that the world is full of selfish people. They have been offering you grass and fruits for many centuries; even in the days of steamy pizzas. I’m not one among them man, anytime you feel like gulping some good food, check in. You know my address. I’m not appeasing you. I know you have already written everything that has to be written for me. All that I ask you is for a mirror, which if not fully, at least reflect my ‘fore head code’ faintly so that I can run with world.

THE MEN WHO MARTYRED GANDHI

2009-03-06T07:40:00.000-08:00

Kamal hassan's "Hey Ram" has made a great impact on me. I have watched the film a 100 times and love every bit of it. Once i even decided to name my son, Saketh Ram. Hey Ram had something more than the sum of its parts. It changed the way i looked at gandhi. I wanted to know more about him than that he is the 'bapu' (Tamilians pronounce it 'baboo') and he adores all my hard earned currency. I read anything and everything that had 'gandhi' in it. I watched Ben kingsley's 'gandhi' to conclude that he played gandhi better than Nasruddin shah. I read gandhi's autobiography. I read a couple of biographies. I read various views about gandhi by various people. I looked at gandhi from Bhagat singh's view, Tagore's and Bose's view. Gandhi was a good boy many a times and a back bench bad boy few times.

R K narayan's "Waiting for the Mahatma" must be one of his best creations. Gandhi fits so beautifully into the fiction as he did into Hey ram. He visits Malgudi for a stage talk and inspires a local guy to join his army. That young chap falls in love with one of gandhi's followers and accepts to be a part of his army and render 'service'. He gets bowled over by gandhi's political image without actually understanding his philosophies. He gets into the wrong path, gets his finger burnt and understands lately what gandhi stood for. In between he regrets for being a follower of gandhi and later as the plot goes the bird gets back to the nest. He along with his lady love request gandhi to be the first man of their marriage. He agrees and moves out for evening prayers. A moment later gandhi turns back and says with a different tone 'dont wait if im not able to come'. A few minutes later, on his way to the stage he gets killed by a Hindu Fanatic - Nathuram Vinayak godse. Such a romantic story with a such a sad end. The couple was 'waiting for the mahatma'. If there was such a mahatma as portrayed in the story, in my life, even I would wait for him. To put it otherwise im still waiting too meet such a mahatma. Sometimes im even desperate. Who could dare to kill such a sacred soul. A heart that was as pure as a dew on tulsi leaf.

Now, look at the other side of the coin. Here, Hindus were tormented in every worldly possible ways - women being raped, sold and butchered. About a million hindus from the newly born pakistan were ripped off their belongings and dignity and were forcefully moved into the hindu-majority land, just because they were hindus. Look at Gandhi from the eyes of protagonist in Harivansh ray bachan's "Haveli". A well dignified, rich and philanthropic Hindu lady gets humiliated and thrown out of Pakistan's territory. But in late 1947, Gandhi coined a 7 point pledge and requested all the leading political and religious parties to abide to them. The 7 point pledge was all about ensuring the safety of muslims in Indian territory. Hindus were refugees in their own land and muslims enjoyed all their rights and pleasures, because there was a powerful hindu who was even ready to die for them. Gandhi once invited all Hindus to celebrate the 'Mohrauli urs' -a unique carnival of Muslims. He called it communal harmony, and it was an embarrassment for groups like 'Hindu rashtra sabha' and men like veer savarkar. At the top of these, Gandhi went for a 'fast', condemning Indian government for not paying Rs 55 crore to pakistan which was supposed be paid according to a clause in Partition agreement. Just to break his fast, the nehru-patel duo accepted to pay pakistan its debt. Hence, all the perseverance that the hindu refugees had in them, which was sown by gandhi himself reached its threshold. Some one had to put an end to this old man who threatened the nation emotionally with his ‘fasting’ weapon like a new bride and Godse & Co. did.

Now, again I’m in a dilemma. Was he a real ‘mahatma’ or tried to be one, getting fond of his nick-name? Was there logic behind all his sanctimonious acts in dealing Hindu-Muslim issues? A person who could not even handle the waspish ego problem between Sardar patel and Nehru was out to solve a problem of such a magnitude. But according to Mountbatten, if Gandhi could not solve the problem and stop the violence no one could have. Gandhi had the charm in him, a command to quiet his people with his preaching or blasphemy-depends on the way you see it. Gandhi, if not a leader, is at least a great manager. He worked for Indians in South Africa with passion. He showed his temper to stand against humiliation. He blew hot and cold simultaneously at the British raj. He attacked Indians with sentiments – religious and moral. He handled Nehru and Patel with diplomacy, Jinnah with contempt. All these qualities would not have been magnified in a bigger screen and reached our text books as lessons if he was not murdered. His life would not have had a perfect end if he had died of a cold or fever. He would not have been equaled with Jesus by literary men. The men who killed gandhi, actually martyred him.

My quest to know about the men who killed gandhi had other reasons apart from the “hey-ram effect”. After watching the sensational Bikini babe- Mugda Godse walking up the ramp in the film ‘fashion’, I was driven crazy to know more about her. While I googled for her pics, Nathuram godse’s photo also cropped up. His very appearance grasped my attention. All I had pictured in my mind about ‘Godse’ (which sounds like grave) since childhood days is that of a dark, heavily built, one eyed burglar. But I was startled to notice that he was such a simple looking ‘uncle next door’. The other conspirators of the murder plot were – Narayan Apte, Vishnu karkare, Gopal Godse, Madanlal Pahwa and Digambar Badge.

Godse and Apte were close associates of Veer Savarkar. Hence the Bombay provincial police believed that the bigger hand of savarkar was behind the plot and savarkar himself being a thorn in the flesh for congress government had all reasons to do so. Although there was no solid proof to prove that savarkar was guilty, he had to spend more than a year in prison after Gandhi’s murder. How the Godse & Co. formed a team among themselves and killed Gandhi is as awe-inspiring a story as childish as it was. To give an example, the 9mm Berretta revolver used to kill gandhi was procured by the assassins only 48 hours before the murder. Here are a few ‘few points to be noted’ about the important conspirators involved in the murder plan.

Nathuram Vinayak Godse- A shy, unmarried Brahmin born to a poor parents as their fourth son after their first three sons died at very young age. As a measure to drive away the evil forces that surrounded their family, it was decided to raise him like a girl by wearing a nose-ring (nath in marati). As a hard worker and orthodox hindu , he believed in India being a secular state. He was influenced by Veer Savarkar and they had similar thoughts that hindus should not suffer giving away the ‘minorities’ cushion to muslims. A key person of ‘Hindu Maha Sabha’ , he worked tirelessly for his Marati Daily- ‘Agrani’ (meaning fore runner). He broke all the Press rights act to conceal a few sensitive issues and published all the atrocities of Muslims in pakistan, Jinnah aided raiders in the border and about the sufferings that hindus faced, stark naked. If you compare him with today’s news channel reporters, he definitely wasn’t a superfluous misleading publisher. After lot of friction, ‘Agrani’ was banned. The very next day he started another news paper – ‘Dainik Hindu rashtra’. It was all the more the same newspaper with a different label. He cringed every time the hindu refugees came to him with their horrifying experiences. He published every bit of it and wanted some big hands like Gandhi, Patel to work on the issue. He held lot of anti-congress meetings, conducted protest rallies and did everything until the day he received the news of Gandhi taking up a fast unto death. He decided to kill him and he did.

Narayan Apte- A good looking and charming fellow, was the manager of ‘Hindu Rashtra’. He was the man in command for the team of conspirators until a week before gandhi’s murder. He held a B.Sc degree and taught mathematics at Christian missionary school in Ahmednagar. He slid into the British Air force uniform as a recruiting officer, adding to his charm. He was very attached to his family and considered family duties more seriously than anything else. As an energetic and angry young man, he once published “I condemn gandhi, a hundred times” in the front page of his newspaper. As far as the concern for hindus is considered, Apte and Godse were one soul in two bodies. They had the perfect chemistry to be with each other. They both had their own areas of core competence and did not involve in the others’. He charmed one of his students, Manorama Salvi – an orthodox Christian girl, who later became pregnant with his child. A hardcore romanticist, he made every attempt to meet her as often as possible even during his tough times. He daringly took the girl to hotels, satyed with her for a day or two identifying themselves as Mr& Mrs Apte. Although he did not shoot gandhi , he accepted that he played a vital role in making the plot to kill him. He was present at the Birla house on the day of murder, just to witness a historic murder and to be with Godse as a moral support. He was not arrested on the day of murder, but he did not have any intention to hide and live under covers. On the day of his hanging, he convinced his crying wife by saying “you have an entire life to weep; but only half an hour to live with me”. Such a practical person he was. (seen in the photograph are sitting L-R : Narayan Apte, Veer Savarkar, Nathuram Godse, Vishnu Karkare. standing L-R : Madanlal Pahwa, Gopal Godse, Shankar, Digambar Badge)

Gopal Godse – The younger brother of Nathuram, brought himself into the team driven by his brother’s enthusiasm to work for the cause of Hindus. Having volunteered for the British army, he served in colonies of Iran and Iraq. He also had a fair knowledge in using arms and ammunition, possessing a revolver himself which he wouldn’t part with anyone- the reason why nathuram allowed him to take part in gandhi’s murder plan. A sincere government servant, he applied for leave to leave for Delhi to murder gandhi. He did not leave poona until he got his leaves sanctioned and joined the other team members only 2 days after they reached Delhi. Gopal was not at delhi on the day gandhi was murdered and since he was not directly involved in killing, he was given only a life sentence unlike his brother who was hanged to death. Later in the year 2000, TIME magazine interviewed him to know how he feels aboud Gandhi rated "Man of the Century". The angry 80 year old man remarked "He must be named the most cruel person of the century". I personally pity him. He was the long lived of the conspirators. If he hates gandhi so much, imagine how he would have felt everytime he used the indian currency. Literally Hiis life wass SCREWED !

Digambar Badge – A self centered, weapon trafficker. He looked grave and had all physical characteristics of a criminal. He also enslaved a young telugu speaking guy named Shankar who was also captured for getting involved in gandhi’s murder plan. Badge enslaved Shankar so much that he did not have any exposure about the external world. In fact he did not know who Gandhi was, until Jan 20, 1948, the date they fixed for murder. Badge supplied weapons and ammunition to Godse- Apte. Later, he got inspired by godse’s actions and got himself into the team and as he claims he too had a soft corner for hindus. He later turned to be the Approver of the case, explaining each and every part of the plan and execution. He in fact made the job easy for the then sloppy Indian police.

Madanlal Pahwa – He and his experiences were the major driving force for nathuram’s decision to kill Gandhi. Born and brought up the Pakistan provincial Punjab, he experienced all the gory barbarities of Muslim raiders in Indo-Pak border, first hand. He explained vividly all the events that he saw and heard about various refugee camps. He himself being a refugee at ahmednagar managed to get a petty job under a scholar named Dr. J C Jain. He was very sincere to Jain and his job was to sell the books written by him. Those books were seldom read by people, but he did not quit the job. Later he used the bundles of books to hide the weapons which he distributed to many big shots of the then India. In the film Hey Ram, 10 days before Kamal hassan approaches gandhi for confession, they showed a person who tries to throw granade at the meeting stage and gets caught. He is none other than this Madanlal pahwa.

Chandra-Aasan

2008-10-29T23:16:00.000-07:00

காணாமல் போகிறேன் ..

2008-10-28T11:27:00.000-07:00

ஒரு முறை என் கேமரா
என்னை மீட்டு கொடுத்தது ;
ஒரு முறை என் புல்லாங்குழல்
என்னை மீட்டு கொடுத்தது ;
ஒரு முறை என் தோழி
என்னை மீட்டு கொடுத்தாள் ,
நான் தான் அடிக்கடி
தொலைந்து போகிறேன்.

எண்ணங்களின் கிறுக்கல்கள் !!

2008-10-18T11:59:00.000-07:00

மொழி...மனித குலத்தின் ஒரே ஆக்கம் .......கண்டுபிடிப்பிற்கும்
ஆக்கத்திற்கும் வேறுபாடுகள் உண்டு... மனிதன் விமானத்தை கண்டுபிடித்தான்... மின்சாரத்தை கண்டுபிடித்தான்... எறி வாயுக்களை தோண்டி எடுத்தான்,,,இவை அனைத்தும் இயற்கையில் இயற்கையாக உள்ளவையே,,,இயற்கையின் அதிசயங்களை கண்டறிந்து அதை நேர்முக படுத்தி தன் உபயோகத்திற்கு பயன் படும் படி மாற்றுதல் கண்டுபிடிப்பாகும்.. Thermodynamics இன் முதல் தத்துவம் கூறுவதும் இதைத்தான்.. பொருளையோ சக்தியையோ ஆக்கவோ அழிக்கவோ முடியாது.. உருமாற்ற தான் இயலும் என்பது அதன் விளக்கம்.. நீங்கள் பரிட்சையில் fail ஆன பேப்பரை எரித்து விட்டால் அதை அழித்து விட்டதாக பொருள் இல்லை, நீங்கள் அதை மனிதனால் கண்டுகொள்ள முடியாத ஒரு வகையில் உரு மாற்று விட்டீர்கள். நாளை, அப்படி எரிக்கப்பட்ட காகிதங்களை படிக்கவல்ல ஒரு சாதனம் வந்தால் ஆச்சர்யம் இல்லை..

மின்சாரத்தை கண்டறிந்தோம் ..இயற்கையில் வெவ்வேறு பானங்களில் அடங்கி இருக்கும் சக்திகளை ஒன்று கூட்டி , உரு மாற்றி , அடக்கி ஆண்டு பலனை அனுபவிக்கின்றோம்.. இதில் ஆக்கம் இல்லை...செயல் வேறு ஆக்கம் வேறு,,,'ஆக்கபூர்வமான செயல்" என்று பலர் கூறும் போது நான் எனக்குள் சிரித்துக்கொள்வேன் . ஆனால் மொழி அப்படி இல்லை... அம்மாவை அம்மா என்று ஏன் அழைக்கின்றோம் என்று காரணம் எல்லாம் கிடையாது... (இவற்றில் 'காரண சொற்கள்' ஒரு விதி விலக்கு. 'இடுப்பழகி' என்பது காரண சொல் , அழகான இடுப்பை கொண்டவள் என்று பொருள். ஆனால் அழகு என்பதற்கு அர்த்தம் கிடையாது, வெறும் சப்தமே) ... பல வார்த்தைகளுக்கு மூல காரணம் கிரேக்க மொழியிலோ, பிரெஞ்சு மொழியிலோ , தேவனகிரியிலோ உண்டு என்று ஆராய்ந்து பார்த்தாலும் மூலத்திற்கும் மூல தனமான காரணம் என்னவென்று யாருக்கும் தெரியாது. தன்னுள் இருக்கும் 'sound energy' யை நெளிவு சுளிவுகளுக்கு ஆட்படுத்தி மனிதனின் 'audible range' கு உள்ளே அதை உச்சரித்து உணர்ச்சிகளை வெளிப்படுத்த உபயோகப்படும் 'ஆக்கம்' தான் மொழி.

மனிதனை போலவே வீடு கட்டும், வேட்டையாடும், புணரும் திறன்கள் பல மிருகங்களுக்கு இருந்தாலும் 'மொழி' என்கிற ஆக்கத்தின் மூலம் மனிதன் தனித்தன்மை பெற்று சமுதாய மிருகமாக உயர்கிறான். பல கோடி ஆண்டுகள் முன்னே என்ன நடந்தது என்பதை பதிவு செய்ய மொழி இல்லாததால் தான் வரலாறு காற்றில் கரைந்தது. பின்னர் மனிதன் வரை கலையை நாடினான். பல்வேறு குகைகளும் , பிரமிடுகளும் தன்னுள் அடங்கி இருக்கும் வரலாற்றை முழுமையாக நமக்கு சொல்ல முடியாமல் போவதற்கு காரணம் , மொழியில் உள்ள simplicity இல்லாமல் போனது தான்.

கருவுற்ற 100 ஆவது நாளில் இருந்து மூளை வளர ஆரம்பிக்கிறது. கை , கால்களெல்லாம் முழுமையாக வளர்ச்சி அடைவதற்கு முன் எண்ணங்களை சேகரிக்கும் 'memory card' ஆன மூளை தயார் . ஆனால் நமக்கு கருப்பையில் கடத்திய இருட்டு நாட்களை பற்றியோ, தாய் பால் உரிந்த இன்ப நாட்களை பற்றியோ எந்த நினைவும் இருப்பதில்லை. காரணம், மொழியின்மை . நமக்கு நடந்தவற்றை சேகரித்து நினைவில் வைக்க 'மொழி' என்கிற encoder/decoder தேவை படுகிறது. கந்தசாமி என்னை அடித்தான் என்பது ஒரு event. அதை மனதில் (மூளையில்) data வாக சேமித்து வைக்க மொழி அவசியம்.

மொழி மாறுதல்களுக்குட்பற்றது , அழிவுற்றது. சமஸ்க்ரிதம் பேச்சு வடிவில் அழிந்தே போய்விட்டது. 'தமிழ் இனி மெல்ல சாகும்' . நண்பர்களை 'சகா' என்று அழைத்து மாறி 'மாமா மச்சி' என்பது மாறி இப்போது 'மக்ஷீ , doode, buddy' என்றெல்லாம் மாறிவிட்டது . இதை வடிவ மாற்றம் என்பார்கள். தக்காளி சாதம், எலுமிச்சை சாதம், ரசம் சாதம் எப்படி 'சாதம்' என்கிற அடிப்படை உணவிலிருந்து உரு மாறி பல வடிவில் வருகிறதோ, அதே போல் தான் இந்த மொழியின் வடிவு மாற்றமும். இதை 'slang' என்பார்கள். இந்த வடிவு மாற்றம் வீரியம் அடைய அடைய ஒரு நாள் அந்த மூல மொழி அழிந்தே போகிறது. எப்படி ஒரு தாய் பத்து பதினைந்து பிள்ளைகளை பெற்றெடுத்து ஒரு நாள் TB வந்து சாகிறாலோ அது போல. மரண படுக்கையில் கிடக்கும் தாயை கண்ணீர் விட்டு காப்பாற்ற முயல்வோர் சிலர், 'உன் காலம் முடிந்து விட்டது, போய்சேர்' என்று விட்டு போவோர் சில பேர். அப்படி ஒரு மொழியிம் உயர்வையும் அழிவையும் பதிவு செய்ய மீண்டும் ஒரு மொழி தான் தேவை படுகிறது. அது தான் மொழியின் சிறப்பு. ஆக்கத்தின் சிறப்பு. பொக்கிஷங்களின் காப்பிடம் தான் மொழி பெட்டகம். கொள்ளு தாத்தா தன் சொத்துகளையெல்லாம் எங்கே வைத்திருக்கிறார் என்பதை நமக்கு புரியும் மொழியில் எழுதி வைக்காமல் போய்விட்டால் விபரீதம் தான்.

கலை, கலாசாரம் ஆகியவை அறிவியல் சார்ந்தது. மொழி மனோ தத்துவம் சார்ந்தது. civilization தொடங்கிய பொழுது தன் தினசரி தேவைகளுக்காக மனிதன் நதிக்கரையோரம் குடிபெயர்ந்தான். குளித்தான், குளிர் ஆடை நெய்தான், மது பானம் அருந்தினான், கூரை வீடு, கல் வீடு என்று தேவைகளுக்கு ஏற்ப விஞான ரீதியில் கலாசாரம், நாகரிகம் ஆகியவற்றை நிறுவினான். தட்ப வெப்ப நிலைக்கேற்ப மனிதர்களின் தேவைகளும், ரசனைகளும் வேறுபடும் . அப்படி வேறு படும் பொது மனிதனின் 'aesthetic sense coefficient' என்கிற harmone சம்மந்தப்பட்ட ரசனை உணர்ச்சிகள் வேறுபடுகின்றன. அதை சார்ந்து உருவாகியது தான் கலை. கென்யா நாட்டில் பெண்கள் திறந்த மார்புடன் நடம் புரிவதும், காஷ்மீரில் பெண்கள் சாக்கு பை துணியில் உடை அணிந்து நடனம் புரிவதும் அவர் அவர் தட்ப வெப்ப நிலை பொருட்டே. கலை உருவாகி வளர்வதும் விஞ்ஞான அடிப்படையிலேயே. அதையும் மீறி சகல மனிதர்களுக்கும் பிடிக்கும் வகையில் சில அம்சங்கள் உண்டு. பாப் பாடகி மடோனா உள்ளாடை தரிசனம் தரும் போது வாடிகன் pope முதல் உள்ளூர் pipe fitter வரை எல்லாரும் கன்னத்தில் போட்டு கொள்கிறார்கள். சில தருங்களில் வேறுபட்டும் சில தருணங்களில் ஒன்றுபட்டும் இருக்க குடிய கலையும் விஞ்ஞானமே . மொழி அப்படி அல்ல. அது ஒரு மனோ தத்துவம். ஆங்கிலத்தில் 'rape' என்று உச்சரிப்புக்கு தெலுங்கு மொழியில் 'நாளை' என்று பொருள். இது போன்று பல சொற்களை அடுக்கி கொண்டே போகலாம். பல வார்த்தைகள், பல மொழிகள், பல அர்த்தங்கள். there is no place for embarrassment. தத்தம் மொழியினை பேசவோ படிக்கவோ யாரும் கூச்ச படுவதில்லை. (US இல் இருக்கும் சாப்ட்வேர் engineer களும் அவர்களின் மக்கு மனைவிகளையும் தவிர) காரணம் மொழிக்கும் நமக்கும் உள்ள உறவு. நம் நெருங்கிய தோழர்களுடனும் உறவினர்களுடனும் கூட பகிர்ந்திராத சமாச்சாரங்களை நம் மொழியிடம் பகிர்ந்து கொள்கிறோம். கல்லூரிகளிலோ , வேலை நிறுவனங்களிலோ நாம் கற்பது , கேட்பது ஆகியவற்றை நமக்கே உரிய மொழியில் தான் மொழி பெயற்று மனதில் பதிவு செய்கிறோம், புரிந்து கொள்கிறோம். ஆதலால் மொழி ஒரு encoder மட்டும் அல்ல translator கூட.

இப்படியாக மொழி நம் வாழ்வில் தாயாக, நண்பனாக, மனைவியாக, குழந்தையாக, நம்முள் நாமாக நம்முடனே வாழ்ந்து கொண்டும் அழிந்து கொண்டும் தான் இருக்கிறது. இதையும் ஒரு வித சக்தி என்றே சொல்லலாம். emotional power. தாகூர், வோர்ட்ஸ்வொர்த், திருவள்ளுவர், பாரதியார் , மிர்ச்சி சுசி ஆகியோரை ஈர்த்தது இந்த சக்தி தான். இயல் இசை நாடகம் என்று மூன்றாக பிரிந்து 'உணர்ச்சி' என்கின்றன விளக்க முடியாத அம்சத்திற்காக மனிதன் உருவாகிய ஒரே ஆக்கம் மொழி. இன்றைய கம்ப்யூட்டர் களுக்கு மனிதன் புகட்டுவதும் மொழி தான். மொழியின் சக்தி உணர்து நாளை கம்ப்யூட்டர் களுக்கும் உணர்ச்சிகள் தோன்றினால் வியப்பதிர்கில்லை. இவ்வளவு சக்தி வாய்ந்ததாக இருக்கும் மொழிகள் என் காதல் உணர்ச்சிகள் வெளிப்படும் போது எங்கே மறைகின்றது. அங்கே என்னவள் என்னை பாக்கிறாள், நானும் தான்.... பேச நினைக்கிறேன், முடியவில்லை. ஐயோ இல்லை பேசிவிட்டேன் உதடு அசையாமல் ....அவளும் தான்...

அறிந்த மொழிகள் இனியவை, அறியா மொழிகள் மேலும் இனியவை....
ஸ்ரீவத்ஸ பிரவீன்

WORDS

2008-10-18T11:52:00.000-07:00

You can say anything you want, but it's the words that sing, they soar and descend . . . I bow to them . . . I love them, I cling to them, I run them down, I bite into them, I melt them down . . . I love words so much . . . The unexpected ones . . . The ones I wait for greedily or stalk until, suddenly, they drop . . . Vowels I love . . . They glitter like colored stones, they leap like silver fish, they are foam, thread, metal, dew . . . I run after certain words . . . They are so beautiful that I want to fit them all into my poem . . . I catch them in midflight, as they buzz past, I trap them, clean them, peel them, I set myself in front of the dish, they have a crystalline texture to me, vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agates, like olives . . . And I stir them, I shake them, I drink them, I gulp them down, I mash them, I garnish them, I let them go . . . I leave them in my notes like stalactites, like slivers of polished wood, like coals, pickings from a shipwreck, gifts from the waves . . . Everything exists in the word . . .

A SUICIDE NOTE

2008-10-11T15:10:00.000-07:00

Shruti has finally gone to the US. “I just wanted to add some meaning to your life and so I did it, after all Sundaram is a kind worker, nothing else” she said when I stood in front of her as a proud man. She was everything to me and she was nothing less than my everything. 8 hours of kabaddi everyday has made my skin and chin rough but it taught me how to concentrate. I concentrated. I made a concentrate of rodent poison with tequila shot. Tequila for me and poison for my love. Looking through my highball glass I see myself. I see my past“Kabaddi, kabaddi, kabaddi” – three men to dodge and the cup is home. Unlike regular kabaddi players I’m fair, normally built and had agreeable looks. My looks weren’t brutal enough to threaten the monsters to touch who was the mission. A few tricky acrobats inside the rectangle and few minutes of traditional ‘pranayama’ and yes she is mine. I could get her all for myself overtaking those geeks that impressed her over years. I concentrated. I concentrate. A thin layer of salt on this tiny lemon slice does all the magic. I have never felt my adrenalin rushing so fast in me. The bar tender looks funny, no lesser does the opponent. These computer champs have bruised my happiness like anything over years. All she liked was a few codes. It’s so beautiful to get things done with a few mathematical expressions. “It all depends on how you define the object” she often tells her pals. How do I define my love for her, how do I define computer, how do I define this toothpick that held this magical lemon until few seconds back. This bulge in my glass reminds me of Mr. Shankar’s belly. The Shankar in Shruti Shankar. He wanted her to get an MS from the renowned Massachusetts. ‘Kabaddi, Kabaddi, Kabaddi’. I’m concentrating. Very ambitious fellow-this Shankar. He automated and computerized everything in life. He would even develop an Artificial Neural network model for kabaddi, assuming my breathe rate to be constant and using other variables, constants, differentiating and applying Simpson’s rule on a million data to convince himself that ‘it all depends on how you define it’. Here I’m doing the same ‘pranayama’ that he has been doing in the mornings for four decades. He wanted the world for her and I want her as my world. When it comes to ambition or loss, there is no such thing called ‘small’ or ‘big’. A child’s loss of a toy and a king’s loss of his crown are of same magnitude. This Cup is going to get me Shruti. A bronze plated aluminum cup against a Massachusetts Gold Medal. Yes they are of equal magnitude. Kabaddi, Kabaddi, kabaddi. This fellow is barbaric and he abuses me. He is afraid of defeat and he doesn’t know that even I’m. This defeat will never let me play the game again. She looked anxiously. I hear some strange noises.” Why should I go out? Am I not paying for every drop of intoxication? You bloody…..” Vreeeellllll goes the whistle…Out! This fellow is gone. I pried him out of the box with my legs. Just two more and I’m losing sight. The idlis with Tomato chutney that I had as my breakfast seem to be betraying me. Stamina is draining. I feel like sleeping on this cold floor. No, the sun is hot and the match is on, why do I feel cold ? I could see several suns sticking on to long poles at equal distances. But I got to win this. Just kick these two fellows.
I proposed to her. Straight on face once after trying to give her a love letter in a floppy disk. That was the closest computer related stuff that I knew which I thought would impress her. She had something called ‘pen drive’ for her usage and found a floppy disk to be very much outdated. The letter was never opened. Still 5 minutes to go and the whistle will go forever. I’m concentrating and I’m sober. I could feel the heat as she gave a piercing look. She wouldn’t have even dreamt of such a disgusting proposal. For me, saying ‘I love you’ in a sports jersey without any rose or card was cool enough. Now I’m out on the ground with that very cool jersey. The blue one, my favorite. But I don’t understand what this jean is doing on my lower torso. I don’t feel like wearing it nor do I feel like removing it. I have to concentrate and I have no time to think about it. “You have been fooling around without any aim all these years. I can’t give my life to such an aimless fellow even though I kind of like you”. Now that’s the signal, this studious shy gal cannot bluntly express herself like we kabaddi players. After all she needs some security, some kind of insurance. When a silly two-wheeler comes with insurance, it’s natural to expect a boy friend with some future for him. I got to win my love through something that I always love. Kabaddi. Yes Kabaddi is my weapon and the victory in this National Championship Finals is worthy enough to please Mr. Shankar, my dad’s boss. Just 4 minutes more to reach my destiny. I have travelled through this many a times and I know the exact time it will take. Whether our child will become a Kabaddi player or a computer expert is not yet decided, but I will never let my child become one like this unkind traffic police. He shouts at me for not having a Head light in my bike while there were so many on the road who dint have the bike itself. My goodness, what a crazy country is this, no wonder Shankar uncle wants my Shruti to go to the US.
My head is banging like anything. The sun is right on my head and my body shivers in spite of this heavy jacket. I think I should slow down, but anything less than 60 is not cool. I’m sweating, my limbs tremble. I’m an expert in handling these slog sessions of kabaddi but still I need an armor to guide me. This is a personal match and I have to be careful. I looked into her anxious eyes. They were rolling like two marbles as usual. Vrooom, what was that? What happened to her eyes, and why one is red and other orange and it’s really strange to have eyes one on top of the other. No, now they are ok. Two cute marbles. I’m looking at her eyes and eyes alone because I believe in my love; it will take me to the gates of success. They rolled left and right, synchronous to my two opponents’ movements and I moved exactly opposite. That was the best ever dodging this nation had seen in a kabaddi match. Vreeellll…..one man down and I’m still holding my breath. Cheers got louder and louder until it reached its threshold limit. Now it’s calm and silent. I think I forgot to fetch the key. All I could see was a pale face that would have looked like mine some 20 years ago. “it was so generous of shruti madam to give you a boost up in your life like this, you should fall at her feet rather than expecting her marry you, you fool” said that familiar voice with a tint of grief. I fell down immediately but recovered in a microsecond. But now the ground is very soft and seemed familiar. I feel ‘at home’. My mission is not yet over. This tiny person has to be finished to fulfill all my dreams. I look back to her eyes. They aren’t moving and she looks younger. She changed her clothes within no time and has got a bouquet in her arms standing still. May be she is waiting for that moment of my success and to wish me with that bouquet. Her unmoving eyes convey that I have to look straight and concentrate. I’m going to choke you little fellow. Hey you are too soft for a last man. But he holds me like lizard and pulsate me here and there; I can’t get rid of him. The cheering sound start hearing back. The final step is not that easy especially in such ambitious missions. This guy is repressive. The more he holds me the more I start liking him. His aroma, the very exotic aroma that induces more sleep in the mornings. I could sense that I’m in the verge of winning and I want to see shruti show some expression and this guy has literally stuffed my face and its too late to stop him. He is killing me and I jumped at shruti so that she could help. She never came and her eye balls never moved. This tiny fellow is angry that I would cross the line to win when I jumped at shruti. He will never leave until I die. I touched my heart to realize. I’m alive….I’m alive…I was alive. A laminated chart paper fluttered near the window which read “Winner, Mr.Srinivasan s/o Sundaram”.

Bugging The Starry Sky

2008-10-04T21:28:00.000-07:00

I've found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said "Journeys end in lovers meeting." What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said "love is blind". Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. Its called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert.

I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, ... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that she'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you starved, will eventually begin to fade.

MALAR POLA MALARGINDRA

2008-09-29T09:30:00.000-07:00

Let your boss invent new techniques to spoil your happiness,

let your prof torture you again and again to mend a single graph sheet,

wife's demands - inevitable,

children's cry - mere reflection of your future.

amidst all these find yourself some time to listen to these words.

"Malar pola malarkindra manam vendum thaayee
Palar Potri paarattum gunam vendum thaayee

Malar pola malarkindra manam vendum thaayee
Palar Potri paarattum gunam vendum thaayee

Varam tharum annayae vananginom unnayae
Varam tharum annayae vananginom unnayae

Malar pola malarkindra manam vendum thaayea
Palar potri paarattum gunam vendum thaayee

Malar pola malarkindra manam vendum thaayea
Palar potri paarattum gunam vendum thaayee

Oru noyum theendamal anai podu thaayea
Nadhi kaya neramal neerutru thaayae
Nannilam parthu neeyae
Eliyorai maghizhvaakka vazhikaatu thaayea
Valiyorgal vaatamal vagaikattu thaayea, en valamana thaayea
Pasi dhaagam kaanamal vayiraakku thaayea
Rasipporgal sevi thedi isai oottu thaayea
Isaai paattu enrendrum inipaakku thaayea.
(malar)

Pugazh, selvam, nalam, kalvi kuraivindri vaazha
Puvimeedhu irai nyanam emai enrum aala, pon kuraiyamal vaazha
Arulodu porul bedha arivodu nyanam thelivodu thinam kaanum nilai vendum vendum adhu thiralaaga vendum
Pala veedu, pala naadu, pala desam endru
unaramal vazhvorai onraakku thaayea
Uravodu maghizhvodu emai maatru thaayea
(malar)"

MAIL ME IF YOU NEED THE AUDIO FILE OF THE SONG "sreevatsa.praveen@gmail.com"

மழை

2008-09-24T10:41:00.000-07:00

உஷ்ணமானி நூறை தொட

கடுங்குளிரில் உடல் நடுங்க

கொட்டும் மழை தன்னில்

கடுந்தவத்து ஞாநி போல்

நெடுஞ்சாலை வெகுதூரம்

நடந்தே தான் செல்வதற்கு

அன்பே எனக்கு கண்டிப்பாய் பிடிக்கும்

மழையை நியும் உன்னை நானும்

நேசிப்பதால் !!!!

HEY RAM !!

2008-09-24T07:19:00.000-07:00

These are one of the very mesmerising words from Jibanananda Das's 'ruposhi bangla'. Jibanananda was a pioneer in bengali modern poetry without whom begali literature would have ended with tagore's romance. He was often called as 'bengal frost' for most of his poetry works have frost's flavour.May be he acted as a good translator. But these particular lines would have reached unto this madras iyengar's lips if not for ilayaraja, kamal and rani mukherjee. It would be unfair to credit only one soul...Kamal's extreme brilliance on movie making, Ilayaraja's 'heroin'ic music recipe as well as rani's flattering pronounciation adds glamour to das's words which otherwise would have remained unknown to most of us.

"Akashe jyotsna
Phuler pathe chita baagher gayer karam
Hridoy amar horin jano
Ratrer ei niraboder bhetor, kondike cholechi?
Rupali paatar chaya amar shorire
Kothao kono horin neyi
Aar joto door jaayee, kaashter moton banka chaand
Shesh shonale horin, shorsho khete niyeche jano
Taar par dhire dhire dube jaache
Shata shata mrigedaar choker ghumer andhokaarer bhetor"

The meaning goes like this,

"Moonlight in the sky
On the Forest Trail the Scent of the Leopard
My Heart is like Deer
In the Silence of this night, which way am I going?
The silvery shadow of leaves on my body
No more deer anywhere
As far as I go I see the moon bent like a sickle
Cutting the last golden deer-grain
Then sinking slowly
Into the darkness of all the sleep
In the eyes of a 100 does."

Isnt it Frosty enough ?

The notes which im trying to blow out of my flute is this. you know im good in trying ! probably ivan might ask a 'connect' question using the above four photos in a quiz. so guys , here's the answer !

nee paartha paarvaikkoru nandri
mp p p mp g r g s m
FG G G FG D# D D# C F

namai saertha iravukkoru nandri
mp p mp p pp g r g s m
FG G FG G GG D# D D# C F

ayaraadha ilamai sollum nandri nandri
SS S S SS S S G R n m p
C+C+ C+ C+ C+C+ C+ C+ D#+ D+ A# F G

ahalaatha ninaivu sollum nandri nandri
SS S S S S S S G R n m p
C+C+ C+ C+ C+ C+ C+ C+ D#+ D+ A# F G

uyire vaa
pd nn3 n
GG# A#B A#

KABALI LIVES

2008-09-22T12:06:00.000-07:00

தாய் அழுக பிறந்து ஊர் அழுக இறக்க வேண்டும் என்பார்கள் . தாய் அழுக பிறந்து தாய் அழுக இறக்கும் துர்பாக்யசாளிகளில் இவனும் ஒருவன் . நோய்க்கு மருந்து இல்லாமல் இறக்கும் பலருக்கிடையில் , நோய்க்கு சரியான மருந்தின்றி இறப்போரின் அப்பாவிகளின் பட்டியலில் 'கபாலி ' ( எ ) 'ஸ்ரீகாந்த் ' பெயரையும் சங்கமிக்கின்றேன்.

இரங்கல் செய்திகளில் இறந்தாரை பற்றி புகழ் பாடுவது சம்பிரதாயம் . நான் அலங்கார வார்த்தைகளை அடுக்க போவதும் இல்லை , இது இரங்கல் செய்தியும் இல்லை . இரங்கல் செய்திகளில் பிரயோக படுத்தப்படும் சொற்களையும் அதனுள் இருக்கும் கனிவு தனையும் பத்தில் ஒன்றாக சுருக்கி நம் தினப்படி வாழ்க்கையில் ஒருவருக்கொருவர் பகிர்ந்து கொண்டிருந்தோமானால் , இன்றைய உலக சரித்திரமே வேறு . இது என் நண்பனுக்கு நான் எழுதும் முதல் மற்றும் இறுதி கடிதம் . ஒரு 'testimonial'. வாழ்வாங்கு வாழ்ந்த சான்றோரெல்லாம் 'வாய்ப்பளித்தமைக்கு நன்றி ' என கூறுவதை வழக்கமாக வைத்திருப்பர் . அப்படி ஒரு வாழ்கையை வாழ வாய்ப்பளிகாதமைக்காக விதியின் மேல் நான் எய்தும் ஆதங்க கடிதம் . ஒரு தாய் சில மணி நேரங்கள் புணரி , பத்து மாதங்கள் பேணி காத்து , பல ஆண்டுகள் கண்காணித்து வளர்க்கும் புத்திர செல்வத்தை 2 நொடிகளில் விதி விழுங்கி விட்டது என்று அறியும் பொழுது மனம் பதைபதைக்கிறது . சப்த நாடிகள் அடங்குவதும் , இரத்த குழாயில் அழுத்தம் வெகுண்டு உடல் வெலவெலத்து போவதும் தான் மரணம் என்பதை என் விஞானம் எனக்கு புகட்டினாலும் மனம் அதை ஏற்க மறுக்கிறது . காலகோடகனின் கருணையற்ற செயல் என்றும் , சித்திரகுப்தனின் நாட்குறிப்பின் பிழை என்றும் கற்பனை செய்ய தூண்டுகிறது , மரணங்களை அருகில் காணாத என் நெஞ்சம் . இறந்த என் நண்பனின் ஆவி இந்நேரம் இறைவனடி சேர்ந்திருக்கும் , அங்கிருந்து இந்த அற்ப மானிடரின் செயல்களை கண்காணித்து கொண்டு தான் இருக்கும் என்று கற்பனை செய்து கொள்வதில் சற்றும் கூச்சம் இல்லை இந்த விஞான பித்தனுக்கு . அப்படி கண்காணிக்கும் அந்த நண்பனுக்கு மனமார்ந்து கூறுகிறேன் 'ஐ வில் மிஸ் யு '.

நாடு ஒரு சிறந்த இளைஞனை இழந்து விட்டது என்று தான் கூறவேண்டும் . கணினி துறையில் நீ செய்வதாய் சொன்ன விஷயங்களும் சரி , செய்யபோவதாய் சொன்னவையும் சரி எனக்கு ஒரு போதும் புரிந்தது கூட இல்லை . அதை பற்றி உலகுக்கு எடுத்துரைக்க நான் அருகதையற்றவன் என்பதே உண்மை . பொது உடமைகளை சேதப்படுத்துவது தேச த்ரோகம் என்று ஒரு முறை கூறியது இன்னமும் என்னுள் ரீங்காரமிட்டுக்கொண்டிருக்கிறது . உயர்ந்த நோக்கங்களும் தீர்க்க ஞானமும் கண்டோர் நீண்ட காலம் வாழ்ந்ததாக சரித்திரமில்லை .அதனால் தானோ என்னவோ உன் சரிதை தொடங்கும் முன் முற்றிற்று .'ஞாநோதயா ' என்ற கனவு பள்ளியும் , அதை சார்ந்த மற்ற தொண்டு நிறுவனங்களையும் குழந்தை போல் வளர்க்க ஆசை பட்ட நீ , நொடிப்பொழுதில் காற்றில் கரைந்தது காலக்கொடுமை.

இறப்பதக்கு இரு நாட்கள் முன்பு தான் ஏதோ ஒரு குழந்தைக்கு கண் தானம் தேவைபடுவதாய் சொன்னாய் . இறுதியில் உன் கண்களையே தானமிட்டு நீ இமயமாய் உயர்ந்தாய் எங்களை மட்டும் ஏன் ஆழ் கடல் சோகத்தில் மூழ்கடித்தாய் ? நீ ஆசைப்பட்ட உலகத்தை உன் கண்களாவது பார்க்கட்டும் . உன் கருமணிகள் வாயிலாக நாங்கள் உன்னை என்றும் பார்த்துக்கொண்டிருப்போம் .

எழுதப்படாத உலக சரித்திரத்தில் நீயும் ஒரு சகாப்தம் .

அன்புடன் ,
ஸ்ரீவத்ச பிரவீன்

2008-09-19T09:07:00.000-07:00

Petroleum and US crisis

2008-03-25T09:25:00.000-07:00

Why the Dollar Bubble is about to Burst?

Currently almost all oil buying and selling is in US-dollars through exchanges in Londonand New York. It is not accidental they are both US-owned.
The Wall Street crash in 1929 sparked off global depression and World War II. During that war the USsupplied provisions and munitions to all its allies, refusing currency and demanding gold payments in exchange.
By 1945, 80% of the world's gold was sitting in US vaults. The dollar became the one undisputed global reserve currency -- it was treated world-wide as `safer than gold'. The Bretton Woods agreement was established.

The UStook full advantage over the next decades and printed dollars like there was no tomorrow. The US exported many mountains of dollars, paying for ever-increasing amounts of commodities, tax cuts for the rich, many wars abroad, mercenaries, spies and politicians the world over. You see, this did not affect inflation at home! The USgot it all for free! Well, maybe for a forest or two.

Over subsequent decades the world's vaults bulged at the seams and more and more vaults were built, just for US dollars. Each year, the USspends many more dollars abroad that at home. Analysts pretty much
agree that outside the US, of the savings, or reserves, of all other countries, in gold and all currencies -- that a massive 66% of this total wealth is in US dollars!

In 1971 several countries simultaneously tried to sell a small portion of their dollars to the USfor gold. Krassimir Petrov, (Ph. D. in Economics at OhioUniversity) recently wrote, 'The US Government defaulted on its payment on August 15, 1971 . While popular spin told the story of `severing the link between the dollar and gold', in reality the denial to pay back in gold was an act of bankruptcy by the US Government.' The 1945 Breton Woods agreement was unilaterally smashed.

The dollar and USeconomy were on a precipice resembling Germanyin 1929. The USnow had to find a way for the rest of the world to believe and have faith in the paper dollar. The solution was in oil, in the petrodollar. The USviciously bullied first Saudi Arabiaand then OPEC to sell oil for dollars only -- it worked, the dollar was saved. Now countries had to keep dollars to buy much needed oil. And the UScould buy oil all over the world, free of charge. What a Houdini for the US! Oil replaced gold as the new foundation to stop the paper dollar sinking.

Since 1971, the USprinted even more mountains of dollars to spend abroad. The trade deficit grew and grew. The USsucked-in much of the world's products for next to nothing. More vaults were built.

Expert, Cóilínn Nunan, wrote in 2003, 'The dollar is the de facto world reserve currency: the UScurrency accounts for approximately two thirds of all official exchange reserves. More than four-fifths of all foreign exchange transactions and half of all world exports are denominated in dollars. In addition, all IMF loans are denominated in dollars.'
Dr Bulent Gukay of KeeleUniversityrecently wrote, 'This system of the US dollar acting as global reserve currency in oil trade keeps the demand for the dollar `artificially' high. This enables the USto carry out printing dollars at the price of next to nothing to fund increased military spending and consumer spending on imports. There is no theoretical limit to the amount of dollars that can be printed. As long as the UShas no serious challengers, and the other states have confidence in the US dollar, the system functions.'

Until recently, the US-dollar has been safe. However, since 1990 Western Europe has been busy growing, swallowing up central and Eastern Europe. French and German bosses were jealous of the USability to buy goods and people the world over for nothing. They wanted a slice of the free cake too. Further, they now had the power and established the euro in late 1999 against massive US-inspired opposition across Europe , especially from Britain- paid for in dollars of course. But the euro succeeded.

Only months after the euro-launch, Saddam's Iraqannounced it was switching from selling oil in dollars only, to euros only -- breaking the OPEC agreement.. Iran, Russia, Venezuela, Libya, all began talking openly of switching too -- were the floodgates about to be opened?

Then aero planes flew into the twin-towers in September 2001. Was this another Houdini chance to save the US (petro) dollar and the biggest financial/economic crash in history? War preparations began in the US But first war-fever had to be created -- and truth was the first casualty. Other oil producing countries watched-on. In 2000 Iraqbegan selling oil in euros. In 2002, Iraqchanged all their petro-dollars in their vaults into euros. A few months later, the USbegan their invasion of Iraq.

The whole world was watching: very few aware that the USwas engaging in the first oil currency, or petro-dollar war. After the invasion of Iraqin March 2003, remember, the USsecured oil areas first. Their first sales in August were, of course, in dollars, again. The only government building in Baghdadnot bombed was the Oil Ministry! It does not matter how many people are murdered -- for the US, the petro-dollar must be saved as the only way to buy and sell oil – otherwise the USeconomy will crash, and much more besides.

In early 2003, Hugo Chavez, President of Venezuelatalked openly of selling half of its oil in euros (the other half is bought by the US). On 12 April 2003, the US-supported business leaders and some generals in Venezuelakidnapped Chavez and attempted a coup. The masses rose against this and the Army followed suit. The coup failed. This was bad for the US.

In November 2000 the euro/dollar was at $0.82 dollars, its lowest ever, and still diving, but when Iraqstarted selling oil in euros, the euro dive was halted. In April 2002 senior OPEC reps talked about trading in euros and the euro shot up. In June 2003 the USoccupiers of Iraqswitched trading back to dollars and the euro fell against the dollar again. In August 2003 Iranstarts to sell oil in euros to some European countries and the euro rises sharply. In the winter of 2003-4 Russian and OPEC politicians talked seriously of switching oil/gas sales to the euro and the euro rose. In February 2004 OPEC met and made no decision to turn to the euro -- and yes, the euro fell against the dollar. In June 2004 Iranannounced it would build an oil bourse to rival Londonand New York, and again, the euro rose. The euro stands at $1.27 and has been climbing of late.

IRAN HAS REALLY DONE IT…more deadlier than the nuclear..

The Voice (issue 264 -) ran an article beginning, 'Iranhas really gone and done it now. No, they haven't sent their first nuclear sub in to the Persian Gulf. They are about to launch something much more deadly -- next week the Iran Bourse will open to trade oil, not n dollars but in Euros' This apparently insignificant event has consequences far greater for the US people, indeed all for us all,
than is imaginable.

But matters this month became far, far worse for the US dollar. On 5th May Iranregistered its own Oil Bourse, the IOB. Not only are they now selling oil in euros from abroad -- they have established an actual Oil Bourse, a global trading centre for all countries to buy and sell their oil!

In Chavez's recent visit to London; he talked openly about supporting the Iranian Oil Bourse, and selling oil in euros. When asked in Londonabout the new arms embargo imposed by the USagainst Venezuela, Chavez prophetically dismissed the USas 'a paper tiger'.

Currently, almost all the world's oil is sold on either the NYMEX, New York Mercantile Exchange, or the IPE, London's International Petroleum Exchange. Both are owned by US citizens and both sell and buy only in US dollars. The success of the Iran Oil Bourse makes sense to Europe , which buys 70% of Iran's oil. It makes sense for Russia, which sells 66% of its oil to Europe. But worse for the US, Chinaand Indiahave already stated they are very interested in the new Iranian Oil Bourse.

If there is a tactical-nuclear strike on - deja-vu - `weapons of mass destruction' in Iran, who would bet against a certain Oil Exchange and more, being bombed too?

And worse for Bush. It makes sense for Europe , China, Indiaand Japan--as well as all the other countries mentioned above -- to buy and sell oil in Euro's. They will certainly have to stock-up on euros now, and they will sell dollars to do so. The euro is far more stable than the debt-ridden dollar. The IMF has recently highlighted USeconomic difficulties and the trade deficit strangling the US--there is no way out.

The problem for so many countries now is how to get rid of their vaults full of dollars, before it crashes? And the UShas bullied so many countries for so many decades around the world, that many will see a chance to kick the bully back. The UScannot accept even 5% of the world's dollars -- it would crash the USeconomy dragging much of the world with it, especially Britain.

To survive, as the Scottish Socialist Voice article stated, 'the US, needs to generate a trade surplus to get out of this one. Problem is it can't.' This is spot on. To do that they must force US workers into near slavery, to get paid less than Chinese or Indian workers. We all know that this will not happen.

What will happen in the US? Chaos for sure. Maybe a workers revolution, but looking at the situation as it is now, it is more likely to be a re-run of Germanypost-1929, and some form of extreme-right mass movement will emerge..

Does Europe and China/Asia have the economic independence and strength to stop the whole world's economies collapsing with the US? Their vaults are full to the brim with dollars.

The UShas to find a way to pay for its dollar-imperialist exploitation of the world since 1945.. Somehow, eventually, it has to account for every dollar in every vault in the world.

Bombing Irancould backfire tremendously. It would bring Iranopenly into the war in Iraq, behind the Shiite majority. The UScannot cope even now with the much smaller Iraqi insurgency. Perhaps the USwill feed into the Sunni v Shiite conflict and turn it into a wider Middle-East civil-war. However, this is so dangerous for global oil supplies. Further, they know that this would be temporary, as some country somewhere else, will establish a euro-oil-exchange, perhaps in Brussels.

There is one `solution' -- scrap the dollar and print a whole new currency for the US. This will destroy 66% of the rest of the world's savings/reserves in one swoop. Imagine the implications? Such are the desperate things now swimming around heads in the White House, Wall Street and Pentagon.

Another is to do as Germanydid, just before invading Polandin 1938. The Nazis filmed a mock Polish Army attack on Germany, to win hearts and minds at home. But again, this is a finger in the dam. So, how is the USgoing to escape this time? The only global arena of total superiority left is military. Who knows what horrors lie ahead. A new world war is one tool by which the UScould discipline its `allies' into keeping the dollar in their vaults.

The task of socialists today is to explain to as many as possible, especially our class, that the coming crisis belongs purely to capitalism and (dollar) imperialism. Not people of other cultures, not Islam, not the axis of evil or their so-called WMDs. Their system alone is to blame.

The new Iranian Oil Bourse, the IOB, is situated in a new building on the free-trade-zone islandof Kish, in the Persian Gulf. It's computers and software are all set to go. The IOB was supposed to be up and running last March, but many pressures forced a postponement. Where the pressure came from is obvious. It was internationally registered on 5th May and supposed to open mid-May, but its opening was put off, some saying the oil-mafia was involved, along with much international pressure. Just google `pertroeuro' , and the story lies before you.

From now on, anyone in the know will wake up every morning and, even before coffee, will check out the latest exchange rate between the euro and dollar.

like the flowing river

2008-03-12T11:52:00.001-07:00

Because it has lived its life intensely
the parched grass still attracts the gaze of passers-by.
The flowers merely flower,
and they do this as well as they can.
The white lily, blooming unseen in the valley,
Does not explain itself to anyone;
It lives merely for beauty.
Men however, cannot accept that ‘merely’.

If tomatoes wanted to be melons,
they would look completely ridiculous.
I am always amazed
that so many people are concerned
with wanting to be what they are not;
what’s the point of making yourself ridiculous?

You don’t always have to pretend to be strong,
there’s no need to prove all the time that everything is going well,
you shouldn’t be concerned about what other people are thinking,
cry if you need to,
it’s good to cry out all your tears
because only then will you be able to smile again.

BAND

2007-09-09T23:41:00.000-07:00

FLUTTERBY a.k.a BUTTERFLY

2007-09-09T23:36:00.000-07:00

TANGY

2007-09-09T23:29:00.000-07:00

IRRESPONSIBLE MEDIA

2007-08-30T05:38:00.000-07:00

The video footage that showed the extreme harassment of a chain snatcher at Bhangalpur district, Bihar was very shocking. The guy had snatched a chain from a local woman’s neck and to his bad luck he got caught by the public. The public had been very sincere in informing the local police and they have arrived at the earliest. The police had beaten him so brutally that the victim bled more than his sweat.
The police along with the enormous public support kicked him, whipped him, strangled his neck, threw stones, rotten eggs and did every possible thing to hurt him. A few had even spat on him to express their anger. It is pretty common in India. When you want to insult someone you can just spit on his face and he gets insulted. The economic disparity in Bihar is well known. Definitely the victim couldn’t be a multi millionaire trying to expand his business horizons nor a cinema actor possessing illegal arms. He must be a poor villager under the poverty line striving for every meal. That doesn’t justify his act but still he doesn’t deserve all those harassments. If this is the way to punish chain snatchers how will you punish people with tonnes of black money? How will you punish a person like pappu yadav who has a mini burial ground beneath a lake to bury all his victims? The country treats a criminal turned cine actor like a freedom fighter or something and the whole nation cries when a celebrity is on trial, but when it comes to common man the entire case is different. Man is a descendant of animal. We call ourselves “a social animal”. But still we have lots of animal traits except that we are afraid to express them. We are bound to societal rules and other constraints. If given a chance an ordinary man will kill a minimum of 5 persons, a psychologist report says. This incident is a very obvious proof in support of that report. There was no one to stop people from beating the victim. In Tamil it is called ‘podhu maathu’ - beating up someone for a social cause (as they were called so). Anyone can come in the middle and hit the victim; it’s an unbiased open opportunity without any preferences or reservations. One could observe the unity among Indians during such occasions.

The process of “podhu maathu” had continued for more than an hour when the police got this mind blowing idea to show their supremacy and power. They tied one leg of the victim to a motor bike and put the victim upside down on road. The video footage shows the policeman riding his motor bike for a short distance pulling the victim with extreme pride as if he is demonstrating a new model bike that can run without fuel. I shouldn’t be saying this but still it is an obvious fact that the “biharis” are far backward in thoughts and actions and most of them are still uncivilized. One couldn’t blame all those who involved in harassment and other spectators alone, for various reasons. One is that at such situations when there is no one to stop or punish such “over reactions”, the animal part of man overcomes all his civilized thoughts and feelings and one starts enjoying being animal. One can always justify such an act by saying “it is everybody’s mistake”. When it is everybody’s mistake, it becomes nobody’s mistake. The other reason is, even if a soul or two wants to stop them, they couldn’t do so in fear of getting assaulted. In India it is always safe for a person to go with the majority. A single word against the mass will cost you heavily.

The most shocking thing is that within no time several reporters from various news agencies reached the spot just to watch and record the actions. Is this the way to show sincerity in their work? They should understand that humanity is more important than anything on earth. The reporters and journalists have lot of responsibilities on their shoulders. They act as a bridge between a common man and his country. But in this case they should have been much more responsible. There were around 15 different agencies and more than 30 reporters and camera men on the spot. But none of them tried to stop the violence. It’s not like they don’t have the guts to stand up to them nor it was a big political or religious riot that was beyond their control. The fact is that they dint want to stop the violence. They expected more action to take place so that they could air some lucrative news on their respective channels. Bringing violence into light seems to be much more important than stopping violence. Instead of video recording the actions they could have tried to stop the policemen from harassing the victim. They have every right to do that. Even the HUMAN RIGHTS COMMISSION gives them rights to interfere in such situations to establish peace. We have seen reporters bugging celebrities all the way to know their private issues. When an actor stays with his counter part in a hotel, it hits the first page on newspapers the next day.
What’s happening here, there had been instances when the press reporters had fought for, what they claim as “freedom’’ and why don’t they fight for the people. They had the chance to fight, rights to fight and more importantly a reason to fight which actually is supposed to be their duty. Of course it is equally important to capture the violence and air them. It is a warning signal for all the brutal officials. To some extent these videos create awareness and stop any such violence in future. The media’s role gets dignified only if they act with humanity and work for the people when needed and not just by printing catchy headlines.

just born

2007-08-03T02:27:00.000-07:00

class room days

2007-08-03T02:12:00.000-07:00

i may not get these class room experiences again unless my HOD fails me in any of the first or second year subjects. these were the most craziest days ...... i used to get screwed for no earthly valid reasons...iwas a silent sleeper & have never been a source of disturbance but still "a few people" were after my life. i had the most erratic fellow on earth in my next seat- nonstop samynathan..... a guy who shows enormous interest to answer all those wierd questions, inspite of repeated insults.... :) we were the "none to bother" eight point someones in the history of CIT. at last we are just survivors..... but still i managed to do one useful thing in class- click this photo. manoj with his brown checked shirt seen above, is as usual experimenting his boyish charm

PHILOSOPHER

2007-08-03T01:57:00.001-07:00

me and the greatest philosopher of all times.....

kudumba mezhugu varthis ????

2007-08-03T01:50:00.000-07:00

they arent "kudumba kuthu vilakku" s for sure..... they are trying to be kudumba candles atleast.... ;) { this must be the worst mokkai on earth i know, but still...... }

rang de basanti

2007-08-03T01:45:00.000-07:00

these guys are nuts.... especially when they start singing.... but still we liked it :)

an unbearable "anthakshari" was going on.....

LET ME DIE

2007-08-03T01:28:00.000-07:00

UNDER the wide and starry sky,

dig the grave and let me lie,

glad did i live and gladly die

and i laid me down with a will ;

This be the verse you grave for me:

"here he lies where he longed to be;

home is the sailor, home from sea;

and the hunter home from the hill "

T.N.A.U

2007-08-03T01:16:00.000-07:00

yet another simple photo which i just clicked for name sake after winning the "TN arts society" competition.

colorFul

2007-08-03T01:07:00.000-07:00

this picture is some what close to my heart..... it conveys a message to me , the sorroundings seen in the pic is in black white and and the flower alone is in colour,,,,,, i think its childish to explain what it means to me,,,,, so im leaving it blank,,,, blog viwers, (if at all any) can decipher the message behind in their own style

I CAME. I SAW . I CONQUER

2007-05-19T06:24:00.000-07:00

MY PASSION, MY PERFORMANCE...... CHEMICAL ENGINEERING

2007-05-19T06:19:00.000-07:00

RAYS OF HOPE

2007-05-15T06:42:00.000-07:00

waiting for you....

2007-05-15T06:32:00.000-07:00

ONE NICE SHOT AT NILGIRI HILLS

2007-05-15T06:21:00.000-07:00

The greatest happiness in the world is you are loved.....
loved for what you are
rather than
loved in spite of what you are......

CHE & KORDA

2007-02-25T05:13:00.000-08:00

Once labeled “the most famous photograph in the world and a symbol of the 20th century”, this portrait of Che Guevara photographed by Alberto Diaz Korda on March 5, 1960 is considered to be the most reproduced image in the history of photography. Korda while on an assignment for “the revolucion”, took this photo of Guevara at a protest rally, after a Belgian ship carrying arms was blown by counterrevolutionaries while being unloaded at Havana harbor, killing more than a hundred dock workers.
As korda later recalled it was a damp cold day (politically “dark” day), which provoked me to scribble these lines
“On the day of the explosion
Shadows pointed towards the pithead:
In the sun the slagheap slept.

Down the lane came men in pit boots
Coughing oath-edged talk and pipe-smoke,
Shouldering off the freshened silence.

One chased after rabbits; lost them;
Came back with a nest of lark’s eggs;
Showed them; lodged them in the grasses.

So they passed in beards and moleskins,
Fathers, brothers, nicknames, laughter,
Through the tall gated standing open.

At noon, there came a tremor; cows
Stopped chewing for a second; sun,
Scarfed as in a heat-haze, dimmed.

The dead go on before us, they
Are sitting in god’s house in comfort,
We shall see them face to face-

Plain as lettering in the chapels
It was said, and for a second
Wives saw men of the explosion

Larger than in life they managed-
Gold as on a coin, or walking
Somehow from the sun towards them,

One showing the eggs unbroken.

Ok, enough of trying to earn reputation through others’ poems. Coming back to the photo stuff Korda was then panning his leica (90mm lens) across the figures on the dais when Guevara’s face suddenly jumped into the view finder. The look in che’s eyes startled korda so much that he instinctively lurched backward and clicked immediately. There appears to be a mystery in those eyes, but in reality it is just blind rage at the deaths on the day before, and the grief for their families. However it was only after Guevara’s death that this image with tilted beret and sharp look rapidly spread and was soon taken up by advertisers world wide.

Now ubiquitous; che’s image adores mugs, lighters, key chains, and of course the omnipresent t-shirts. More than 35years after his death, it still remains the logo of revolutionary chic that are waiting to rape the lock of socioeconomic inequalities using the key of revolution!!!
Through a twist of fate though, korda received no royalties whatsoever for this photograph. Speaking in Havana during his last days he said “life may not have granted me a great fortune in money, but it has given me a the even greater fortune of becoming a figure in the history of photography”

THE COMPLETE MAN

2007-02-10T11:44:00.000-08:00

CHAPLIN THE GOD

2007-02-10T11:30:00.000-08:00

Feltham once said, "Laughter should dimple the cheek, not furrow the brow." Charlie Chaplin was a man who definitely dimpled millions of cheeks in the early 1900's. He had a huge impact on the lives of Americans during the world wars and the hard times of the Depression and he made people laugh for the first time in a long time and changed the way they looked at the world despite his own troubles. And even though his films were in black and white, he put a lot of color into everyone's life.
Charlie Chaplin was born on April 15, 1889, in London, England to Charles Chaplin, Sr., and Hannah Hill.He was taught to sing before he could talk and danced just as soon as he could walk. At a very young age Chaplin was told that he would be the most famous person in the world. From then on it was a personal goal for little Charlie. And he would do anything to reach his goal. When Charlie was five years old he sang for his mother on stage after she became ill and taken hoarse. Everyone in the audience loved him and hurled their money onto the stage. When Chaplin was eight, he appeared in a clog dancing act called "Eight Lancashire Lads". Once again he was loved by the audience and he was excited with the attention he received. Charlie's half-brother, Sidney, acted as his agent and when Charlie was ten years old, Sidney got Chaplin an engagement at the London Hippodrome. Within a few years Charlie was one of the most popular child actors in England.
Charlie was twelve when his father died on May 9th, 1901. He died in St. Thomas Hospital in London of alcoholism. He was thirty-seven .After the death of her husband, Charlie's mother, became a chronically psychotic woman who was in and out of mental institutions. Charlie and Sidney, were placed in a charity home after their mother's mental health plummeted.
Chaplin attended 2 years of school at Hern Boy's College. This was the only formal education that he ever received. Charlie was at school when his mother suffered a mental breakdown and was taken away to an institution. Completely alone, Charlie lived on the streets.
When she was well enough, his mother took the children back and supported them by sewing. Between his twelfth and his fourteenth birthdays, Charlie's places of employment included a barbershop stationery store, a doctor's office, a glass factory, Chandler's shop, and a printing plant.
From 1903 to 1906, Charlie performed in "Sherlock Holmes" as the paperboy, Billy. After his time with "Sherlock Holmes", Charlie joined "The Casey Circus" in 1906 as a mime. He remained there for a year .As a gawky adolescent whose voice was changing, Charlie found that he could not remain a child actor in the legimate theater and was forced back into Vaudeville where he discovered the gift for comic pantomime. After remaining in Vaudeville for a few years, Charlie, not quite twenty, came to the United States as a top comedian. There he started his career as the most famous person that ever lived.
In 1907, Chaplin joined the Karno Pantomime Troupe. He made his first tour of the United States and Canada in 1910 with the Karno Troupe. He stayed with the Karno Troupe until 1913. In May of 1913, Charlie signed a contract with Adam Kessel, who had an interest in the Keystone Film Company, for $125 per week. On December 29, 1913, Chaplin signed with Keystone Films for $150 a week. In January of 1914, Chaplin made his first feature film, "Making A Living". Charlie remained with Keystone Films all through 1914 until November when he signed a contract with Essanay Films for $1,250 a week to make 14 films during the year of 1915 . In the spring of 1915, Chaplin made his first appearance as the "tramp" character in "The Tramp". The film was a bittersweet comedy with a signature ending in which - plucky and resilient after losing in love - this homeless comic hero waddles down life's highway, desolate and utterly alone . His character, the Tramp, was a short, twitchy man with a black mustache, baggy suit and a waddling penguinlike walk. A biographist, Theodore Huff, believed Chaplin's costume for the Tramp character personified shabby gentility- the fallen aristocrat at grips with poverty. He said the cane was a symbol of attempted dignity. And he thought his mustache was a sign of vanity . Within two years of his first appearance in motion pictures, in 1914, he had become one of the best known personalities in the nation
On the 27th of February, 1916, Chaplin signed with Mutual Films for $10,000 a week plus a $150,000 signing bonus. He remained with for a little over a year, until June 17, 1917, when he signed with First National Exhibitor's Circuit for $1,075,000 a year. He was still a bachelor - handsome, rich, and famous - when he became infatuated with a sixteen- year-old movie ingenue, Mildred Harris. On October 23rd, 1918, they were suddenly married . By the early 1920's his box office appeal was so great that no studio could afford his talents, and he appeared only in films produced by himself. Chaplin, together with two other of the foremost stars of the day, Mary Pickford , Douglas Fairbanks (who was Chaplin's best friend) and the director D.W. Griffith formed United Artists, so that each could produce and distribute his own films independently . He demanded unquestioning obedience from his associates; years of instant deference to his point of view had persuaded him that it was the only one that mattered.
Chaplin's most famous films that brought him the most admiration, and controversy were: "The Kid"(1920), "The Gold Rush"(1925), "City Lights"(1931), "Modern Times"(1936), "The Great Dictator"(1940), "Monsieur Verdoux"(1947), and "Limelight"(1952) (1998 World Book, pg.377). After these films Chaplin filled the sky as the most famous person in the world. Until he was nearly thirty Chaplin's life had been quiet, scandal-free and without any serious involvement.
Then, "Talkies" started coming out. These are movies with sound. "Talkies are spoiling the oldest art in the world- the art of pantomime. They are ruining the great beauty of silence. They are defeating the meaning of the screen." Charlie Chaplin said when the talking movies came out.
Forty years after he came to America , Chaplin was accused of being a communist. He had no answer to prove the accusations wrong except that it was his constitutional right, and with Senator McCarthy on the loose that wasn't enough. Charlie had come to America, that forty years ago, to breathe free air. Now he was leaving for the same reason . After finding out that Chaplin was "sympathetic with the Leftist beliefs", the FBI went to work to find out what was going on. The extensive files on Chaplin maintained by the FBI over a period of more than fifty years. They total more than nineteen hundred pages. Not only was he accused of being a communist, he was also accused of being Jewish, as well, because his half-brother, Sidney, was three-fourths Jewish. Chaplin's reputation was not good with the FBI. Charlie's investigation began on August 15, 1922, when an agent called A.A. Hopkins passed on the information to the FBI that Charlie had given a reception for a prominent labor leader, William Z. Foster, who was visiting Los Angeles . He was also frequently the guest of the millionaire D.C. James at his cliffside mansion in Carmel. It was there that he came to delight with his host's son, Dan, a would be writer and a communist whom he later would employ as an assistant director on "The Great Dictator". After being questioned about being a communist, Chaplin answered, "I do not want to create any revolution, all I want to do is create a few more films. I might amuse people. I hope so."
The FBI interviewed scores of witnesses, and the secret evidence they collected fills more than four hundred pages. On January 15th, 1927, Chaplin suffered a serious nervous breakdown. Three days after that, the broken comedian learned from a story in the New York Times that the U.S. Government was about to lien on his assets. In 1933 the impromptu performances stopped. Instead, Chaplin's dark moods became more obvious, and his anger flashes more constant. A fear of failure was plaguing him. The secret to Chaplin's fortitude in weathering the storms of the late 1940's was the unqualified success and happiness of his marriage to Oona.
In 1947, after the film, "Monsieur Verdoux", he returned to California on April 30th, but for the next six weeks he stayed away from the studio. He was lonely, dispirited, and give to expressing dissatisfaction with his achievements.
One of the FBI's most helpful informants was the beautiful, young actress, Hedda Hopper . The FBI seemed to have bugged telephones and hotel rooms with devices they called "Microphone Technicals." They put stops on border posts to prevent Chaplin's leaving the country if he had been so inclined. Finally in November of 1948, Chaplin was put on the Security Index. He was accused of all those things and no one had proof or any evidence whatsoever. The files were disappointing; on the 29th of December, there came the admission: " It has been determined that there are no witnesses available who could offer testimony that Chaplin has been a member of the communist party in the past, is now a member, or has contributed funds to the communist party." (Robinson, David, pg. 754) Finally, the FBI admitted that they had no evidence to support the beliefs that Chaplin was a communist. On the 25th of August, 1952, Mr. Noto of the Immigration and Naturalization service telephoned the FBI to say that was intending to sail for England in September. Attorney General McGranery, on September 9th, met with J. Edgar Hoover and, nervous and paranoid, told him that he was considering taking steps to prevent the re-entry into this country of Chaplin. Later that day, McGranery announced that Chaplin's re-entry permit would not be honored. On the 16th of September, Hoover told the Los Angeles office that Chaplin had been reissued a re-entry permit, and that they should advise head office on any information. At the bottom of the note it read- "INS has advised that even though he was given a re-entry permit, this permit gives no guarantee he will be aloud to return to the United States." The FBI files show, however, that the Immigration and Naturalization service remained nervous about their permission. Chaplin, instead of coming back, turned in his re-entry permit and chose to make his home in Europe.
Charlie made his way back to Europe, where he made his home in Switzerland. He said he was happiest there, far away from the fame and misfortune, and with his wife, Oona, and children. And after three disastrous marriages, a succession of love affairs and the FBI's accusations that weren't true, Chaplin felt happy for the first time in a long time.
In 1957, he produced, in London, "The King in New York", a comedy laden with sermons against the House Committee on un-American activities, inane TV commercials, and other aspects of American life. This film brought back fresh accusations of pro-communism, which Chaplin specifically denied
In 1972, Chaplin was honored at the Academy Awards as a wonderful comedian, actor and loving person. It was his first time back to America since the Red Scare accusations about him, and once again the huge crowd of people and fellow actors, producers and directors loved him, and he felt the love that he had always had of laughter and attention.
In 1977, on the 25th of December (Christmas Day), Chaplin passed away of natural causes in his home in Corsier-Sur-Vevey, Switzerland. He was eighty-eight years old . He was married to Oona Chaplin at the time, who was his wife for thirty six years.
Even among false accusations and the troubled loves and marriages he went through, Charlie Chaplin, had an impact on everyone's life in the early 1900's. He made more people laugh than any other man who ever lived and changed the way people looked at the world. His films were for the underdog, and with great pity and understanding, his films were about him.

THE LOVE I FEEL......

2007-02-04T11:19:00.000-08:00

Alas that love, whose view is muffled still,
Should without eyes see pathways to his will!
Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here’s much to do with hate, but more with love.
Why then O browling love O loving hate,
O anything, of nothing first created!
O heavy lightness, serious vanity,
Misshapen chaos of well seeming forms,
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health
Still-walking sleep that is not what it is!
This love feel I that feel no love in this…..

SMILE PLEASE!!!!!

2007-01-26T07:13:00.000-08:00

Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it’s breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You’ll see the sun come shining through for you

Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
That’s the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what’s the use of crying?
You’ll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile

That’s the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what’s the use of crying?
You’ll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile

GREEN DAYS

2007-01-25T06:23:00.000-08:00

FREEZING FRAMES

2007-01-25T06:15:00.000-08:00

PHOTOGRAPHY - AN OVERVIEW

Freezing frames on film. Taking a slice of life and putting it away, to be taken out later and savoured. Photographers tell stories with pictures. They also click photographs.

The word photography is derived from the Greek photos (light) and graphein (to draw). What began as daguerreotypes, the earliest photographs, has today developed into an art, which involves the latest techniques and the most sophisticated equipment. With advances being made everyday in this field, photographers have to be constantly on the look out for such changes and move with the times.

If you want to be a part of this extremely creative profession, all you need is a keen eye for aesthetic detail and for what is "photo-worthy"; a thorough knowledge of cameras and the technicalities involved in taking pictures, of light, distance and perspective; a sensitive and introspective nature; and, most importantly, the guts to take up as a profession, what most of the time remains a hobby. Seems like a tall order? Not really, for those committed to creating magic with their cameras, it should be as much part of the job as the indispensable camera.

Photographers, like artists, have a wide variety of choices as far as subjects are concerned. The choices, in fact, are as varied and diverse as life itself. From photojournalism (which deals with lending a visual touch to news reporting) to wild life photography, fashion photography, photo portraits, still-life photography and mood photography, there's a comprehensive list of options to choose from.

Establishing oneself as a professional photographer is no cakewalk, which is why, perhaps unfortunately, many talented photographers remain amateurs. The climb is hard and long, and the financial returns, not very satisfactory in the beginning. Only those with tenacity and a never-say-die attitude, coupled with a real love of the medium hold on.

"WALL" PAPER

2007-01-25T06:12:00.000-08:00

HOW TO NAME THIS

2007-01-25T06:11:00.000-08:00

WEAR CONDOMS

2007-01-25T06:08:00.000-08:00