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Mercyland

O what nags you, dude with a smart phone, Alone and palely loitering? Like the sigh of a little dream That had no birds singing. O what nags you, dude with a smart phone, So haggard and so woe-begone? The squirrel’s granary is full, Though harvest will never be done. I see a dying lily on your brow, With anguish moist and fever-dew, And on your cheeks a fading flower Much in need of a beauty parlour. I met a lady in the mela, Full wise – a Deva’s chela, Her words sweet, her smile drugged, And her eyes were wild. I bought her lollipop, And cotton candy, and Chocó dandy; She looked at me as she did love, And made sweet moan. She took me to her chamber cool, And there she taught and fought full throat, And there I shut my wild wild eyes With dreams in mind and doodles on smart phone.   And I dreamt and dreamt Until the heavens berserk went, And woke up to see an empty ground But for people going round and round. I

Religious conversion: outdated concept

“... the worst thing of all is religious proselytism, which paralyses: 'I am talking with you in order to persuade you,' No. Each person dialogues, starting with his and her own identity. The church grows by attraction, not proselytising.” It is Pope Francis who said it in a recent interview he gave to an Argentine weekly.  The Catholic Church was the foremost champion of religious conversions for centuries.  The Church now has a visionary leader in the person of the Pope.  What reminded me of the interview is a report that appeared on the front page of today’s Hindu with the headline, BJP, Parivar outfits to intensify campaign against ‘love jihad’ .  The last paragraph of the report reads: “On December 23, the martyrdom day of Swami Shraddhanand (the leader of the 19 th century Shuddhi (re-conversion) movement) we will convert Muslims to Hinduism in at least 50 locations in west UP” he [Rajeshwar Singh, coordinator of Religious Awakening, an affiliate of the

English vs Hindi

Language is primarily a means of communication.  More importantly, it is the primary means of communication.  Secondarily, it is an integral part of culture; it is the most important carrier of culture. The struggle going on in Delhi against the English questions in the CSAT exams is a multidimensional struggle.  It seeks to anoint Hindi as a dominant language in India.  Indirectly, it is an attempt to impose the lordship of Hindi over the whole of India, though it may appear to be something much simpler and pro-poor. Some time back, when Mr P Chidambaram, then Union Finance Minister, visited Kerala he asked the man sitting near him to translate into English what a bureaucrat was speaking.  “But he is speaking in English,” answered the bewildered man.  [Chidambaram would have understood had it been Malayalam.] George Orwell This anecdote which became a quasi-legend in Kerala illustrates the importance of language as a means of communication.  Language is useless

Shoah and Al-Nakba

Shoah is the Hebrew word for catastrophe.  Al-Nakba is the Arabic word for the same thing.  The Israelis use Shoah to mean the Holocaust.  The Palestinians use al-Nakba to refer to their exodus caused by the creation of Israel.  Shoah created al-Nakba; one catastrophe led to the other.  The victims of one catastrophe created another catastrophe and its victims.  6 million Jews were the victims of Shoah and their relatives uprooted 700,000 Arabs from their homes in Palestine.  The latter figure has kept on increasing since the Nakba has not ended.  In the words of Anton La Guardia (whose book on the issue was the basis of a former blog of mine), “The wandering Jew found a home, while the homeless Palestinians still wander the Middle East.”  La Guardia wrote that in 2002.  Twelve years down the line, the Jews are so well settled in their homes that they are in a position to eliminate the remaining Palestinians. One catastrophe leads to another.  The only difference is the way

Friends

Had it not been for a couple of messages I received, I would not have known that today was Friendship Day.  One of the messages said, “Happy friendship day to the most fantastic friend.  Thanx for being my frd sir...”  It came from a past student.  I found it both amusing and encouraging.  Amusing, because the sender of that message is 36 years younger than me.  Encouraging, because I believe the best teacher is a friend to his/her students especially if the students are adolescents.  Teaching adolescents is fun.  Because they teach me more than I teach them.  Also because I think I’m an adolescent at heart.  In fact, a few months back one of my present students remarked that in the class.  And I laughed nodding in agreement. Adolescents are excellent friends.  In fact, their loyalty in friendship has no parallel in any other period of human growth and development.  Every parent who is struggling to deal with an adolescent son or daughter can take this counsel: be a good

Oh, Jerusalem!

It was midnight.   27 Nov 1917. Khalil al-Sakakini had put aside the book he was reading and was getting ready to go to bed when a knock on the door of his home in the Katamon area of Jerusalem jolted him, gentle though the knock was.  “Alter Levin!” gasped Khalil on seeing his midnight visitor.  Levin was known to Khalil as an American citizen, an insurance agent, and also a poet of some repute.  Worse, Levin was a Jew.  “Give me refuge,” pleaded Levin.  As an American citizen, he had been ordered to surrender himself to the Ottoman authorities.  The War was going on.  Khalil could hear the rumble of artillery around Jerusalem rolling like reverberating thunder.  The British troops were closing in.  Any foreigner who failed to surrender to the authorities would be considered a spy, as would anyone sheltering one. Here was a Jew seeking refuge at the door of a Muslim. Khalil was not a bigot. Rather, he was a scholar, an educator and a writer.  “I

New World

Source: here “... I felt a deep joy.  This, I thought, is how great visionaries and poets see everything – as if for the first time.  Each morning they see a new world before their eyes, they do not really see it, they create it.” The quote is from one of my favourite books, Zorba the Greek , by Nikos Kazantzakis.  To be able to wake up each morning and look at the world as if I were seeing it for the first time, with the wonder of a child taken to a new place, is the blessing I’m now looking forward to. Each day used to be a delight.  Each morning used to break with promises of new experiences, new challenges and conquests, new learning...  Work was not work but sheer delight.  Certain things change and turn our world topsy-turvy.  Inevitable, I guess, particularly in times of rapid changes.  Fight, flight, or adapt – one can toy with the classical options for some time.  The decision has to be taken. I’m trying to be that child on the mountain, looking at a