Tomichan Matheikal's blog

Courtesy: The Hindu The literary world is celebrating the 60 th Anniversary of the first performance of Samuel Beckett’s short play, Waiting for Godot .  It was first staged on 5 Jan 1953 in Paris.  Though it has no plot in the conventional sense, it went on to create history in literature.  It established a new convention in drama called the Theatre of the Absurd .  True, dramatists like Ionesco and Arthur Adamov had already written plays in that convention in 1950.  But Beckett catapulted the genre into limelight. Estragon and Vladimir are the two major characters in the play.  They are beggarly creatures waiting in a desolate street for someone called Godot.  But they are not sure whether they really have this appointment, nor whether they are in the right place.  They don’t know why they are waiting for Godot.  In fact, they are not even sure of their own names.  While waiting, they indulge in seemingly meaningless conversation .  They talk about the two thieves

Teacher is a parent away from the parents.  Today’s Hindu editorial demands better teacher training institutions.  The editorial thinks that lack of qualification has led to deterioration in teaching.  I don’t agree. The plain truth is that lack of remuneration has led to the deterioration. Quality flocks to where the money is.  If money is the ultimate value in society.  We are not living in the ancient days of the Gurukala when gurudom was the noblest position in the society.  Guru was god.  Guru possessed all the knowledge and hence the power. Today knowledge is not power.  Money is power today.  Does India want good teachers?  Pay them – that’s the answer.  Otherwise, change the system based on economy. At any rate, who is a good teacher? Let’s forget the economy and ask that question. A good teacher is one who has a passion for learning.  One who has a passion for learning will keep learning his subject and that passion will automatica

Book Review Author: Dr Eben Alexander Published in India by Haechette in 2012 Pages: 194, Price: Rs 350 The subtitle of the book is A Neurosurgeon’s Journey into the Afterlife .  Dr Alexander, the author, is a neurosurgeon by profession.  Bacterial meningitis sent him into a coma for a week from Nov 10, 2008.  The bacteria had made the entire neocortex of his brain dysfunctional.  But Dr Alexander claims that his consciousness (or soul, if you prefer) travelled to a realm which he thinks is the ultimate reality, the divine milieu. Dr Alexander’s experience reveals a reality or phenomenon which many mystics experienced in the past, irrespective of their religion.  It is a reality in which everything is interrelated and love is the binding link. No one / nothing is a separate entity with a distinct ego.  You have your identity, but you are at the same time deeply aware of your essential relationship with all the reality around.  You can feel the love and the relat

Courtesy: Internet Government employees belonging to the Leftist unions in Kerala have been on strike for the last 5 days.  They are opposing the contributory pension scheme that the state govt has implemented for staff  from April this year. What the govt of Kerala is telling the employees is that they should contribute 10% of their basic salary and DA (dearness allowance) to the Pension Fund Regulatory and Development Authority.  The govt will make an equal contribution.  When they retire they be eligible to withdraw 60% of the amount in the Fund and will receive a monthly pension from the remaining amount. Most of the states in India and the central govt offices have already implemented this scheme. The govt of Kerala has certain valid arguments for implementing the scheme.  The govt says that 80.61% of state’s revenue goes towards payment of salaries and pensions for govt employees. A meagre 19.39% is left for looking after the welfare of the 3.25 crore people

This is a silly post though I dare to call it a poem.  Read it at your own risk. “In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo.” T S Eliots’ Prufrock had at least the consolation of women coming and going talking of Michelangelo.   I’m back to regular routine tomorrow.  And women will come and go talking of duties, workshops and seminars.  They call themselves experts.  They will dictate the terms and conditions.  They have the backing of a religious sect. And I will sing along with T S Eliot : Weialala leia Wallala leialala The winter break is over.  The real break is going to begin. Religious break? Or feminine break? I’m looking forward to Madame Sosostris with her Tarot cards.  She will determine the future. The future of her staff.  She has started by terminating the services of the redundant.  Who is not redundant in this world? Is the expert essential? Is the Swami ji essential? Is the Manager essential?

“The Antichrist can be born from piety itself, from excessive love of God or of the truth…” That’s one of the concluding lines in Umberto Eco’s fabulous novel, The Name of the Rose . I’m celebrating the 30 th anniversary of the publication of the English translation of the novel.  The original Italian version was published in 1980. The novel is set in a Christian monastery in Italy in the early 14 th century.  The plot unfolds in seven days in the year 1327 though the background will span many years earlier. Those were the years in which many people were burnt as heretics and witches by the Catholic Church, the most powerful religion of those days. Eco’s novel illustrates in its own subtle way how a very innocent woman was burnt as a witch simply because she had to sell her body to two monks in the monastery in return for the food she could take home for people at home.  The monks in question are tortured as heretics, and they are not innocent anyway.  The inqu

Delhi is too cold for me. I like it hot. So I decided to take some sunshine though the sun was too cold for me this morning just as it has been for quite some time. But some interesting photos I got as I stood on my balcony reading a novel...; Monkeys  come and go. As usual. But one monkey gets the other to bow down.  To stoop low.  Too low.  That's Delhi.  That's administration. That's human life.  That's life... Then the deal is settled. Once the deal is settled, we look the other way.  For the next prey!? And life goes on in Delhi or anywhere in the world of men/women PS: Believe me, each shot above was taken in the same sequence as given here.  Only the text was invented.