Tomichan Matheikal's blog

Fiction If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have no love in my heart, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. Reverend Felix Markose was preparing his sermon for the next Holy Assembly.  His flock of sheep would arrive in the morning on the day of the Lord to listen to the word of the Lord.  He, their pastor and mentor, would read the scriptures and deliver the sermon in his inimitable style that is highly appreciated by his flock of faithful sheep.  He would count the sins of the people on his fingertips.  Adultery and fornication, drunkenness and drug addiction, gluttony and sloth, greed and envy, it’s an endless list of human errors.  Sinful creatures.  Lord, have mercy on them! If I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to move the mountains, but have no love in my heart, I am nothing. He wondered whether he ever loved anyone.  Except his own voice.  Stentorian voice that resounded

“Let France and those who walk in its path know that they will remain on the top of the list of targets of the Islamic State, and that the smell of death will never leave their noses as long as they lead the convoy of the Crusader campaign, and dare to curse our Prophet. . . . ”  Thus goes the message of the IS delivered soon after the massacre it let loose on Paris. Mourners near the Carillon café and the Petit Cambodge restaurant, two sites of terror attack in Paris.   PHOTOGRAPH BY JEROME DELAY / AP The smell of death seems to be what the IS has fallen in love with.  Andre Glucksmann, French philosopher who died on the 10 th of this month, argued in his book Dostoevsky in Manhattan that modern terrorism including Islamic terrorism is nihilist rather than religious or political.  It is a wild vengeance which is founded on an irresistible urge to annihilate the other.  It is not motivated by any noble goals.  There are no human values which guide it.  It is an impulse,

Fiction “Aren’t you going to see the crucifixion?”  Tobit heard his neighbour, Jeremi, ask.  A man called Jesus was going to be crucified along with two thieves.  Every crucifixion is an entertainment for these people who are burdened with the agony of existence.  Caesar and his men impose all sorts of taxes whenever they need money.  The priests in the temple keep giving rules just to make sure that no one ever rises above their control.  Taxes and rules.  What else was the lot of the common man?  The sweat of his brow.  That was God’s gift to them from the time He created Adam and Eve.  Taxes, rules and sweat.  A crucifixion was good entertainment whenever it came.  But Tobit was not happy.  He knew Jesus.  He knew him from the time he was a tiny baby brought to the temple for the ritual dedication.  Simeon, the holy man, was present in the temple that day.  Tobit was there because he wished to seek the blessings of Simeon.  Simeon took Jesus from Mary’s hands and s

Historical Fiction “What is truth?” Sitting in his dismal cell in the Tower of London, Francis Bacon started his inquiry into the metaphysics of truth.  He was found guilty on no less than 23 charges of corruption.  If Edward Coke, his lifelong enemy, was not the leader of the investigation team, he would have been found innocent.  The Tower Such is truth.  Bacon knew it very well.  Truth depends on which side of the power you are.  That is why even Jesus could not answer the question. “What is truth?” asked Pilate to Jesus.  Bacon continued his inquiry.  He was writing an essay.  Pilate did not wait for the answer.  Nor did Jesus answer.  The answer would have served no purpose for either.  Truth is what serves your purpose. “Truth is like pearl looking best in daylight,” wrote Bacon.  “But it will not rise to the price of a diamond that looks best in varied lights.  A mixture of lie always adds pleasure.  The lie converts the pearl into diamond.  Prose into po

The RSS has decided to grow up from shorts to trousers.  Can we hope that the change in the organisation’s sartorial taste is indicative of some attitudinal changes?  After all, the trousers are not traditional Indian dress.  Will the RSS broaden its ideological landscape to include certain good aspects of the culture from which it is downloading the bottoms? If the RSS were to stick to Indian culture, it would have to prescribe the dhoti to its members since that was the traditional dress of Indian men for a very long period although there were innovative ways of wearing it.  The long piece of unstitched cloth was the easiest dress to manufacture.  Stitching was not required.  Even the women’s sari belongs to that ancient period.  Though the Indian men have opted for the more convenient trousers, the women have chosen to retain the inconveniences wrapped in the five-metre tapestry.  But the RSS is averse to women.  So their sartorial options will be narrowed down to a choice

Fiction His life was an incessant motion, upward and downward, without any real destination.  He was a liftman in the forty-five storey Narayana Apartment. “Narayana!”  Each day of his began with an invocation to his God.  “Give me the patience to endure this purposeless motion.” “If I move up to the 43 rd floor by this lift and return to the ground floor from where I started, what is my displacement, assuming that each floor is 4 metres in height?”  The young boy asked the girl the other day.  They were students who lived on the 43 rd floor. It was that day that he learnt the tragic truth about his life.  He lived a life with zero displacement.  In spite of being in motion for over eight hours a day seven days a week, zero displacement!  Motion without displacement, that was his life. “Narayana!”  He invoked his God again.  Habitually. It was a painful realisation.  That he would live an entire life of motion without achieving any displacement.  His pain wa

Bihar let down Mr Modi.  No other Prime Minister of the country had ever committed him-/herself as wholeheartedly to the elections in any state as Mr Modi had in Bihar this time.  BJP’s defeat in Bihar is Mr Modi’s defeat, however much his supporters might argue otherwise.  Source The whole agenda of development that Mr Modi had promised to the nation, the only objective for which the people of India elected him to the most powerful post in the country, was rubbished by Dadri and Bahari and other such affairs which caught the fancy of the entire Sangh Parivar while Mr Modi was making a world tour except when he mouthed some utopian slogans about development once in a while.    The people of India are not concerned about rewriting the country’s history or converting the country into a theocratic nation.  They have understood that the world has moved on well into the 21 st century where real science and technology matter much more than the rocket technology of Ravana or