Tomichan Matheikal's blog

Fiction Harry woke up with a tremor that shook his entire body.   Somebody was walking outside.   Every footfall was as clearly audible as the tick of the old clock in his living room.   The yard all around his house was paved with gravel.   Footfalls and gravel have a unique affinity with each other.   Harry got out of the bed after listening to the footfalls for a while.   They had approached his bedroom and receded eventually without ever pausing.   Someone had just walked through his yard in the middle of the night.   What’s the time?   He asked himself.   His mobile phone showed 1.24.   It was pitch dark outside.   The silence of the darkness weighed on Harry ominously.   The footfalls had stopped.   A dog in the neighbouring house, beyond Harry’s rubber trees, began to bark furiously.   Another dog joined the exercise.   Harry’s neighbour had two dogs.   Both of them wer...

We can understand only what we love.  Joe was a little surprised to hear that.  “I thought you were a purely rational person,” he said staring into my eyes, “someone who looks at everything from a logical or scientific point of view.” “Yes, Joe,” I said, “Reason and science.  Do we have any better tools for understanding our world and its realities?” Joe was obviously confused.  Where do I put love then?  We can only understand what we love . I need science and reason to understand the physical realities around me.  The origin of the world, the shimmer of the stars out there, and life wiggling out of rotting filth – how do I understand these mysteries without science?  Yet, without love, all my understanding remains distant.  How do I understand you, Joe, unless I love your crankiness?  I cannot understand you if I don’t go beyond what science and reason tell me about you.  You are not just a bundle of chromosomes....

God summoned angel Gabriel. "Go to the earth and tell those silly fools that wisdom is a simple thing." Gabriel followed the order and flew to the earth.  He thought he would start with the theologians and religious leaders. But they were too busy with countless books and theories. In fact, they thought that Gabriel was a madman.  Who else would dare to suggest that wisdom was as simple as the gurgle of a brook or a wisp of snipe? The angel then went to the faithful people gathered in a church for a prayer service.  The uproar of prayers was unbearable for the angel.  He ran away from there immediately. God began to worry in heaven.  Days passed into weeks and there was no sign of Gabriel. After nearly an eternity, Gabriel returned.  He looked terrible. Worn out.  Haggard.  His wings were tattered.  "They are too busy with their religious theories, prayers and rituals. "  Gabriel reported sadly. PS. Adapted from Raimon Pan...

Taken during a trip to Meenmutti Falls (Wayanad, Kerala) with students “There’s something that keeps us going because we know it’s right even when the whole world says it’s wrong.”  An 18 year-old student of mine wrote that in her FB status update a few minutes back. There are more things I learn from my young students than from the wise adults.  That’s one of the blessings of the profession of teaching.  To be in touch with relatively uncontaminated minds is both a blessing and a hazard.  The hazard is the possibility of the teacher contaminating the young minds.  Purity of heart and clarity of thought are quite likely to be perceived by the world as more dangerous than shades and shadows.  As an adult, I too feel burdened sometimes by such purity and clarity coming from my students.  But as a teacher I relish it because it’s a rare benediction.  

I never ask the price of vegetables since I buy them from the same vendor whose prices, I know, are fair.  Yesterday, however, when I picked up two raw mangoes for making chutney, my vendor said to me for the first time in my year-long association with him, “Mangoes are ₹100 a kg.  Should I weigh both?”  He had already kept them on the balance which showed 400 grams.  Not wishing to appear an impoverished citizen in a country that is becoming a global superpower, I was about to put up a cavalier face and say, “Oh, it’s OK,” when Maggie (my wife) forestalled me by butting in very uncharacteristically, “Oh, yes, one’s more than enough.”  I swallowed the hurt to my patriotism and looked at her with the implied question, “How can you be so antinational?”  She was looking at the price list displayed on the shop’s wall.  It is mandatory, in Kerala, to display the prices. Waiting for Khichdi “That’s the cost of development,” I told her when we wer...

A genuine traveller is not put off by the quotidian squalor and musty smell of budget hotels.  He is drawn by the place and its people.  Luxury hotels are not the place.  And people are not found in them either.  Take a place like Shimla, for instance.  The winding roads, crowded bus stands and cubicle-like tea shops are as fascinating as the mountains that circumscribe your view all around, the temples that stipple those mountains and the Mall Road that crowns the town.  Life thrives on those crowded roads and little cubicles.  The real people of the town are seen walking up and down the shortcuts that link one road to another, one mountain to another.  Those who seek their accommodation in the high-end hotels are alienated from real life. A little girl who caught my fancy outside Shimla (2014) Until a few years ago, I was a lover of travelling.  My travels took me to all sorts of places especially while I worked in Delhi.  Qu...

What is it that you’re hiding Sweet Mona Lisa Behind the pale sadness Of your veiled naughtiness? Did the one whom you loved Eject you conveniently? With an excuse like: “Oh, I didn’t mean that at all! Never meant that!” Do you still carry love in your heart For that silly, shallow flirt? Do memories refuse to wean themselves And feed your heart with sweetness Whose delusion garbles The contours of your lips? And the glitter of your eyes? Is it pain deep within That makes you smile Pregnant with meanings?