Tomichan Matheikal's blog

courtesy The Hindu “Unless we hate what we are not, we cannot love what we are,” said a nationalist demagogue in Michael Dibdin’s novel, Dead Lagoon .  Elaborating on that view, Samuel P. Huntington said in his book, The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order , “For people seeking identity and reinventing ethnicity, enemies are essential.” I lived in Meghalaya for a decade and a half.  As an enemy in the sense Huntington means.  Dkhar was one of the first Khasi words I learnt.  It is a pejorative term for the ‘outsider’.  I was a dkhar in Shillong just like thousands of others there who hailed from ethnically different backgrounds.  In the latter half of 1980s I witnessed people of Nepali origin being hunted and driven out of Shillong.  I lived in a part of Shillong where people of Nepali origin abounded.  I witnessed people being beaten up brutally.  I saw people being loaded into trucks and driven away.  My landlord, a Khasi gentleman who smelled of wh

The front page of today’s [22 Feb 2014]  Malayala Manorama (a newspaper with 20 million readers) reports that Narendra Modi has made a contract with the Marxist Party [CPI(M)] in Kerala.  The Marxists in Kerala turned capitalists long ago when Pinarayi Vijayan took over the Party.  V S Achuthandan (with his foot in the grave) questioned the capitalist tendencies of the Party, the result being that he was bullied by those who control the economy. Marxists are turning capitalists all over the world.  Let’s forgive Achuthandan for growing old and yet not retiring.  Idealists don’t retire, unfortunately . Modis flourish.   And gather followers.  Achuthandan was invited to join AAP [Aam Aami Party].  By none other than Arvind Kejriwal himself.  But how can a senior join a junior party?  Ego problem.  What really bothers me is the report that Mr Modi offered to pay money for buying up votes in Kerala.  The newspaper says that  Modi offered to pay any amount for win

In a village in Kerala, Mathew bought a cow.  It was a beautiful GM (genetically modified) creature which promised to yield enough milk to support Mathew’s basic needs.  Mathew had no needs more than the basic ones.  The only problem was that Mathew didn’t know how to milk a cow.  His very next neighbour on the western side was a man named Krishnan who was a velichapadu (oracle in a Hindu temple in Kerala) but was an adept at milking cows.  After all, one becomes a velichapadu only much after one becomes something else in life.  Krishnan was happy to get an opportunity to utilise his best skill.  He came early in the morning and went to the beautiful young cow who had delivered her first calf a  few days ago.  The moment he touched her udder the beautiful thing reacted.  One kick.  Krishnan fell on his bums and took a somersault by kinetic force.  “No problem, I’ll bring a sacred thread from the pujari (priest in a Hindu temple) and tie it on the neck of the cow an