Tomichan Matheikal's blog

Book Review The Fiction of Fact-finding Author: Manoj Mitta Publisher: HarperCollins, India Pages: 259,  Printed price: Rs. 350 “Laws are like cobwebs, which may catch small flies, but let wasps and hornets break through,” wrote Jonathan Swift three centuries ago.  Our jails are full of petty thieves and proxy prisoners.  The wasps and hornets establish business empires or occupy political thrones. A few are worshipped as gurus and godmen. Some go on to become historical heroes. In his classical work, Civilizations , historian Felipe Fernandez-Armesto says that “Heroes do not make history but history makes heroes.”  Hitler would not have become a hero for the Germans unless the economic hardships of the time had not conspired against the German Jews who were relatively better off.  The Jews became a convenient enemy for a people who needed a scapegoat to carry away all their grief and sins. Seven decades later Hitler’s experiment was replicated in Gujarat o

Mohan squarely put all the blame on the stars and planets for Dileep’s failures in business.  “Because Saturn is in line with Scorpio...” he mentioned a number of planets and constellations whose relative positions in the outer space allegedly caused the downfall in Dileep’s business. Mohan, Dileep and I were classmates in the village primary school.  After the primary school we parted ways.  I went on to study in the city and eventually became a teacher.  Mohan dropped out of college and became an insurance agent.  He picked up some astrology from somewhere and used that knowledge to determine the ideal positions of buildings.  Vastu , people call it.  Mohan also claimed he could predict people’s future using astrology.  Dileep didn’t study much beyond the primary school and eventually took over his father’s shop in the village. It was during one of my rare holidays in the village that Mohan and I visited Dileep in his shop.  There were many indications that Dileep wasn’t

Fiction Nebamun was determined and nothing could deter him now.  Now was his opportunity.  Antony had gone back to Rome being summoned by Caesar.  Cleopatra would be alone.  Nebamun could offer her his heart.  Offer his heart to the goddess of love whom age cannot wither or custom cannot stale – that was how one of Antony’s commanders described her the other day.  Let her trample upon his heart if she so chooses.  Nebamun was the devotee and Cleopatra was the goddess.  The goddess can choose what to do with the devotee and it is the bounden duty of the devotee to obey, to make whatever sacrifice the goddess demands. He stood outside Cleopatra’s royal chamber waiting until she came out. “Your Majesty,” Nebamun drew Cleopatra’s attention when she was about to pass him by as if he never existed.  Queens don’t pay attention to ordinary soldiers even if they stand in places where they are not expected. “Yes,” said Cleopatra staring at him.  “What do you want?  Why ar