Tomichan Matheikal's blog

  Fiction Only heroic people can absorb constant failures with nonchalance.  Sanjay was no hero and grew increasingly desperate with each failure.  He had tried out a number of ventures in business and failed in each one of them without exception.  It’s not true to say that he was an utter failure;  he always managed to break even.  Recently he developed the habit of visiting the casino in the city with the hope of learning the secret of winning at gambling.  There seemed to be no secret in it, he concluded after many weeks of keen observation.  You win or lose without any pattern.  Winning and losing are haphazard whether in business or gambling, Sanjay muttered to himself morosely.  It is then he overheard a conversation in the casino.  Somebody was telling a group of listeners a story about Lakshmi Lalwani, the aged widow of the renowned industrialist of the last century.  In their younger days, when Lakshmi and her husband were in Paris, the lady had indulged herself with

 Fiction He sat down on the bank of the Sarayu with a heavy heart.  The palace of Ayodhya stood silhouetted against the setting sun.  He could hear a cry rising beyond the scarlet horizon like the subdued rumble of a reluctant thunder. He wanted her, to be with him till the end of his life, to be his life’s ultimate meaning.  But she had refused to undergo yet another fire test.  “How many fire tests will be required before my husband can trust my fidelity?”  There was fire in her eyes as she asked that question.  But it was a subdued fire.  Like the fire inside a volcano. “It’s not I who suspect your fidelity,” he explained.  “You know the people of Ayodhya.  They think any woman who has spent even a single night in the abode of another man is sullied.  And you know how many nights you spent in the abode of a rakshas.” He was torn between conflicting desires.  He wanted her, body and soul.  His subjects loved him, no doubt.  Some of them even adored him.  Such lo

Development is the only mantra today for many Indians, it seems.  Making Mr Narendra Modi the Prime Minister would mean putting India on the magical highway to economic development, they argue.  What they fail to understand is that the kind of development that prevailing economic theories and systems can provide is a highly flawed one.  It is good to look back at some classical notions when confronted with crises.  Mahatma Gandhi had some very illuminating views on development.  All of his views may not be relevant in today’s situation and may not be practical either.  Yet it is worth revisiting a few relevant ideas. Gandhi said: “ That you cannot serve God and Mammon is an economic truth of the highest value. Western nations today are groaning under the heel of the monster-god of materialism. Their moral growth has become stunted. They measure their progress in pounds and dollars. American wealth has become the standard. She is the envy of the other nations. I have heard m

Is Modi really BJP? This is a question that Prof Shiv Vishvanathan raises in today’s Hindu .  Vajpayee could come to power in India and hold it with respectability because he was a genuine Hindu, a genuine human being.  Any genuine religious person is necessarily a genuine human being.  Vajpayee could not have killed human beings for the sake of votes.  Vajpayee was a poet, you see.  And Modi is a chaiwala. The difference matters.  What kind of a nation are we building up?  Is it the nation of the mafia or is it a nation of a people who can think freely?  For the third time in two days I received phone calls from Tata Life Insurance Co.  I am one of the unfortunate clients who deposited a fairly large sum of money in their insurance business (Business, yes) a few years ago in my wife’s name.  When I deposited the amount my wife didn’t have a private phone number.  So I had given my own mobile phone number.  Now they call me up asking if I am Margaret and why I am

Dear Mr Narendra Modi, At the outset I ask your pardon for addressing you as Mister rather that something like “Worshipful” because in case you become the Prime Minister of India that’s what you would demand from the citizens.  You like to be worshipped.  You’ve already got (or bought) many of your chelas to sing hymns and display posters projecting you as a god.  However, even if you become the PM I won’t address you as “Worshipful”, let alone imagine you as a god.  I’d rather die. That’s not the issue which prompted me write this letter, however.  It is the report in the front page of today’s Hindu titled Modi fears a ‘pink revolution’ . You fear for the lives of cows in the country.  I have no problem about anyone choosing to worship anything.  Once I attended a meditation course in which the participants were told that we could meditate even on a potato.  Keep a potato in front of you and concentrate on it.  Focus.  Slowly the potato will assume larger-than-pota

“Stoicism is the wisdom of madness and cynicism is the madness of wisdom,” said Bergen Evans.  Both stoicism and cynicism are stances that spill over the borders of the normal; hence the nuances of madness.  Can’t one be normal and yet be wise? Psychologist Erik Erikson described wisdom as “detached concern with life.”  Detachment implies a transcendence of emotions while concern involves a certain degree of emotions.  If the stoic and cynic in ourselves can come together in a rational understanding, we will be sanely wise. Life inevitably takes us through a multitude of experiences.  Some are good experiences while the others may be bad.  Joys and sorrows are intermingled in life.  There are both successes and failures.  A time may come in our life when we learn to rise above the urge to celebrate joys and successes and lament sorrows and failures.  That’s when we have become wise. As we grow older we should acquire greater integrity of being.  Integrity is a psychol

One of Osho Rajneesh’s witty tales is about a man who runs into his old friend after a gap of some twenty years.  The man (let’s call him Ram) took his friend (let’s call  him Shyam) home and gave him the best clothes he had.  Then both the friends decided to take a stroll in the village. Interesting body languages Everyone on the way enquired about Shyam.  Ram realised that all the people took note of Shyam’s clothes.  In fact, Shyam looked charming in those clothes.  Beautiful women eyed him wistfully, or so thought Ram.  They visited the houses of some important personalities in the village.  “This is my friend, Shyam, whom I’ve met after some twenty years,” Ram introduced his friend.  Then he said, “he’s a very successful and charming person.  But the clothes he’s wearing, they’re mine.” Shyam flinched slightly but ignored it. A similar introduction was given in the next house too.  When they came out of the house, Shyam said, “You know, if you wish we can e