Tomichan Matheikal's blog

Fiction/Satire Chicken Makhani was almost ready when Tony de Miranda walked into the kitchen with his usual greeting, “Hi, Dosa.” Aditya Dasa never took offence when his friend called him Dosa.   They were bosom friends.   Both of them belonged to the same low caste.   But Tony studied in an English medium school while Aditya laboured in his father’s dhaba.   Tony’s father was rich enough to send him to school.   He made money by arranging people for the rallies and other functions of the political parties in the town.   Whenever any party wanted people for their function, a leader would approach Rajendra, Tony’s father.   The people who attended the functions never became rich though they were paid for their services but Rajendra did. Tony’s original name was Tanmay.   People used to call him Tony.   It was Father Robert de Silva of his school that added ‘de Miranda’ to the name.   Tony was a brilliant student who stood first in all the exams and many other things li

Empires have always tried to amalgamate small cultures into a big one.   The amalgamation has many benefits.   The most obvious benefit is the ease in governance .   It becomes much easier to govern when there is one code of law, one set of customs, one language, one religion, and so on.   Legitimacy is another important benefit. Most empires throughout history have claimed legitimacy for their amalgamation of small cultures by claiming that the conquered people benefit by the process of amalgamation.   The claim was not entirely wrong either.   For example, when many Indians accepted the Islamic or the British cultures they were certainly looking for their own benefits.   Many of the British contributions continue to dominate the Indian culture even today.   Most Indian men, for example, wear western trousers and western suits even when they preach aggressively the superiority of the Indian culture.   English, which is the most common link language in the country, is anot

Fiction Vultures descended on the kingdom.   People had started dying of hunger and thirst.   There was no water anywhere.   Aridity stared at us from what were rivers and lakes until a few months back.   The nudity of the rivers and lakes encroached upon our consciousness like bloodsucking vampires.   It sucked life out of us. “Anga needs a saviour,” King Romapada lamented.   My mother listened to him sympathetically.   “We need a beautiful young maiden to go the forest and…,” he paused a while as if to clear his throat, “… and seduce Rishisringa.” Rishisringa was a young ascetic living in the forest with his father Vibhandak Rishi.   He was himself an offspring of seduction.   None other than god Indra had sent Urvasi, the enchanting celestial dancer, to tempt Vibhandak away from his ascetic vow of chastity. The gods were jealous of the spiritual powers Vibhandak was accruing from his chastity and austerity.   The gods are strange creatures.   They have everyt