Tomichan Matheikal's blog

Fiction Unexpectedly the clouds burst.  Maybe, it was not so unexpected; I had ignored the gathering clouds.  I have a way of deluding myself that life will treat me well since I am a person with no malice in my heart.  I am kind of a Narcissist, if you like. The clouds burst anyway.  I had no choice but run into the nearest building which looked dilapidated.  Not in ruins really.  It looked like someone had pulled it down intentionally before its time had run out.  Not a terrorist attack; not so random.  It looked like a planned attack.  Destruction part by part.  Slow ruin.  Painful ruin. These thoughts were running in my mind when I noticed someone sitting at one of the many doorstops that led to endless emptiness in that ruined building.  He looked like a lunatic.  He had a stubble, unkempt hair which was dripping with rain water, and a burnt-out beedi stub between his fingers.  He sucked at the beedi stub occasionally though it was drenched with water. He gri

Sunday Sermon Miracles, Miracles That's what life's about Most of you must agree If you've thought it out. Don Williams sang that beautiful song a few decades ago.  Life is a miracle.  The flower that blooms in the morning and fades away with the setting sun is a miracle.  The birds that sing and the fish that swim are miracles.  This gadget on which I type is a miracle.  Even the cable that connects it to the switch and the switch itself along with the electric power that runs through it are all miracles.  If you think it out! How many of us can create a lap top, let alone a simple switch?  To be able to stand among the teeming crowd in the underground station of Delhi Metro at Connaught Place and marvel at the miracle of human enterprise is a blessing.  To be able to marvel at the miracle that exists everywhere around us is the best gift that we can possess.  Because the moment we realise the miracle that everything is, that everyone is, we acquire a

Varanasi is a saffron city.  The Hindu culture is embedded in the very dust of the city.  It is no wonder that Mr Narendra Modi chose it as his primary battle ground.  The message he is trying to give is that he is the representative of the Hindus, the spokesman for Hindutva if not Hinduism, and also that he is not merely a political leader.  Shiv Vishwanathan, professor at Jindal School of Government and Public Policy, has written an article titled Why battleground Varanasi is different in today’s Hindu .  The article borders on hagiography showering much accolade on Mr Kejriwal.  In spite of the bias, the article deserves serious pondering.  There are some illuminating ideas. “Sadly,” says the author, “the chaiwala has now become the agent of corporation.”  This is one of the contradictions that Mr Modi embodies within.  He tries to take pride in his humble origins and use it as a proof of his closeness to the lowly people.  The fact, however, is that he has worked re