Tomichan Matheikal's blog

A former student of mine made the following suggestion on FaceBook.  Most European languages can be traced back to a root language that is related to Sanskrit – the sacred language of the ancient Vedic religions of India. Many English words actually have Sanskrit origins. It's a shame however that in our own country we don't adapt anything unless it comes recycled from the west. We must reclaim what's ours and give it a deserving place. A message from the Prime Minister can do wonders in that direction. What do you think, would it not be great if NaMo takes his oath in Sanskrit? The writer later clarified that he was not very serious about it.  However, he had given me a jolt already because I had noticed him as a student who was too passionate about exclusive nationalism.  Personally, I don’t take individual views seriously unless they become a threat to public welfare.  Now that the young man is becoming highly articulate riding on the exultant wave of BJP’s ‘

I celebrated the onset of the summer vacation watching Life of Pi on Star Movies.  I haven’t read the novel and hence don’t know how far the movie is loyal to it.  Experience has taught me that movies generally do much injustice to written texts.  I liked the movie, however. The tiger as well as the other animals on the lifeboat may be an invention of Pi.  Though he tells us another story replacing the animals with human characters, he leaves us with the option of choosing between the two tales, without ever telling us conclusively which the real version is. The film is a kind of fable with a moral.  Religions and gods are as good as stories and myths in man’s attempt to discover meaning in life, shows the movie.  They are all palliatives in times of anguish.  Man liberates himself from his pains by transmuting the pain into a narrative.  Religion does the same thing in a slightly different way.  Perhaps, religion has the added advantage in the form of omnipotent and omn

“Clean my toilet,” said principal to peon in the India Public School. “I’m a peon,” asserted the peon. “Narendra Modi is our Prime Minister, you know,” said the principal menacingly.  “You have to obey now.” “I choose to quit.”  The peon was very proud of his caste profession. The peon resigned.  “Dignity of labour,” he gave reason. And he became a toilet cleaner in Mona Towers built on land taken over from farmers by Namo Builders and Developers in collaboration with the USA.  The only problem now is that he doesn’t know how to convert dollars into Indian rupees.  J

“Modi Bhagwan ka Jai Ho!” greeted the phone call.  It was my friend, Joseph.  I don’t know whether he said ka or ko or ki or ke or ku .  My knowledge of Hindi is as bad as his and my knowledge of vowel sounds is not as good as Prof Higgins’s.  “Why are you so thrilled?” I asked.  “Excited about being sent to some gas chamber or something?  Freudian death wish!” “Nahin, yaar.”  It was interesting to hear Hindi from someone who never spoke that language with me.  Some people are intractable survivors.  “I managed to sell all the stock I have been holding in my portfolio for over two years.  The moment Modi’s party won the elections the stocks simply sold out at a decent profit.” “Jai Ho!  Hail Modi!”  I said in spite of myself.  “It means that now I can sell the little land I have in Kerala for some profit.”  Enthusiasm is contagious, as Rajneesh Baba said. “You don’t have to sell it, yaar,” said Joseph with the enthusiasm that Goebbels had when the Second Worl

Jawaharlal Nehru, the first Prime Minister of India, died 50 years ago (27 May 1964).  Tomorrow the country will get to know a new Prime Minister, most probably.  How far will we have come from Nehru then? Nelson Mandela, while admitting Mahatma Gandhi’s influence on him, said, “But Nehru was really my hero.”  Nehru was a true democrat, explained Mandela in his Rajiv Gandhi Foundation lecture on 25 Jan 1995, who strove to ensure a life with dignity for every citizen.  Nehru transcended the narrow boundaries like religion that tended to divide man against man.  Arguably, Nehru’s greatest contribution to India was his concept of secularism.  Today the word causes frowns on the foreheads of the country’s culture guardians.  The Congress that ruled over India after Nehru is to be blamed partially for those frowns.  But the lion’s share of the blame should go to the vested interests of certain other political parties and religious organisations that refused to understand Nehru

Off the Betwa river, the skyline of Orchha is marked by the pinnacles of the cenotaphs constructed in memory of the Bundela kings and lords.  The chief hobby of most kings and lords in the olden days was conquest.  The victors and the vanquished fill the pages of our history books in the colour of blood.  Orchha’s cenotaphs have stood for centuries reminding us of the futility of all victories.  All cenotaphs and mausoleums remind us of the ultimate fate of all human beings: “Out of dust, to dust again,” as Bahadur Shah Zafar wrote after being imprisoned by his British conquerors.  But the last Mughal Emperor also wrote the following lines in the same poem. You pressed your lips upon my lips, Your heart upon my beating heart... Life is a love affair.  A series of love affairs, rather.  We love people, things, and whatever else adds delight to our life which would be a dreary enterprise without these love affairs.  Political power and sublime art, religious pie

Our tourist guide was deaf and dumb.  Chaturbhuj Temple Maggie and I landed in Orchha rather unexpectedly.  We had no idea what lay in store for us there except that some parts of the movie, Raavan, were shot there.  The auto driver stopped in the parking lot and pointed at an ancient structure and mumbled something.  I asked him what it was and he said while pushing his auto into its parking corner, “Mandir (temple).  There’s also a mahal (palace).”  He did not look cooperative at all.  He must have been irked by the cop who swindled Rs 50 out of him at the UP-MP border though he added that amount to our fare in the end.  “What fault did you commit so that you had to bribe the cop?” I asked when he had returned from the cop.  “It’s the routine...” he mumbled with palpable irritation. The Ascent We ascended the granite steps of the Chaturbhuj temple.  A honeycomb lay hanging on the arch at the entrance.  There was a priest conducting some rituals and a few devote