Tomichan Matheikal's blog

When the shadow lengthens in front of me, I know that there is light behind me.  The longer the shadow, the farther the source of light.  Perhaps I need to pause a while or even walk back a little so that the light draws nearer.  Perhaps there is no going back.  It’s a one way traffic, isn’t it?  The shadow will only grow longer.  We are but dust and shadow, as Horace declared.  What is needed is a discovery of the beauty of the shadow.  Shadows on the Way [Bhatti Mines, Delhi] Not all the ways are smooth, All shadows are not balmy [Bhatti village, Delhi] No shadows: blissful life? [Najafgarh, Delhi] An indelible shadow [Erstwhile Sawan School, Delhi]

In his famous novel, Lady Chatterley’s Lover , D H Lawrence predicted the death of the human race where “vitality” is concerned.  He compared the human race to “a great uprooted tree, with its roots in the air” and suggested that “we must plant ourselves again in the universe.” Hinduism is a religion which ardently believed in the cosmic roots of the human race.  The cosmos is a sacred place and we are its vital parts, according to Hindu scriptures like the Vedas and the Upanishads.  Philosophically Hinduism is one of the most profound views on the meaning of human existence.  It was never exclusive.  On the contrary, it could easily incorporate anything into its cosmic vision.  The Grand Canyon is as sacred as Mount Kailash in that vision.  The Thames is as holy as the Ganga philosophically.  Mohan Bhagwat’s repeated assertion that all Indians are Hindu s is right philosophically.  But then, why only Indians?  In fact, if we go by the logic of Hindu philosophy, all people

“Hell is other people,” as Jean-Paul Sartre said. In his play, No Exit, three characters arrive in the drawing room of Hell.  There is no fire, no torture, no devils in Hell unlike what their religion had taught.  Soon they realise that hell is other people.  “All those eyes intent on me.  Devouring me.  What?  Only two of you?  I thought there were more; many more. So this is hell. I’d never have believed it. You remember all we were told about the torture-chambers, the fire and brimstone, the ‘burning marl’. Old wives’ tales! There’s no need for red-hot pokers. HELL IS OTHER PEOPLE!” Human beings, including me, are jealous, greedy, manipulative, crooked and wicked.  We make life hell for others.  We enjoy doing that.  In fact, most of life is precisely that: creating hell for others.  A lot of people who posed themselves as my well-wishers created the hell of my youth.  I lived in perpetual depression for about five years because of my well-wishers most of whom were profe

My village: the rodomontade is on the way Tapioca was a staple food in Kerala as potato was in Ireland.  It went out of fashion when the Malayali learnt not to trust politicians and decided to make his fortune outside the country.  The public school-educated young generation in Kerala today doesn’t appreciate the pristine tang of tapioca.  My grocer in the village sells a few kilograms of the starchy root every day and I am one of the frequent buyers.  “The price has gone down very much but I am selling it at ₹20 a kg,” he told me as he was weighing one kg for me.  I was silent.  I usually don’t talk much except in the classroom.  “I can buy it for ₹7 a kg from the farmer.  But the poor man won’t even get his transporting charge let alone the cost of cultivating it.  So I bought it for ₹15 a kg.” “You did the right thing,” I said.  “It’s a pity that the farmers have been reduced to this situation,” I added to myself. “Shashi Tharoor’s latest contribution to the Indian

Book Review Sheer evil perpetrated by a born criminal is not an interesting subject in literature.  But Paula Hawkins’ novel, The Girl on the Train , is not serious literature; it is serious suspense thriller.  The suspense keeps the reader hooked to the end.  The characters are eminently well portrayed too. The story is primarily about two men and three women.  Rachel, the dominant character, is an alcoholic and divorced wife of Tom Watson who is now living with Anna, his present wife.  Scott Hipwell and his wife Megan are the other two characters.  Dr Kamal Abdic, a professional shrink, has a fairly important role too. Megan’s disappearance and the eventual recovery of her dead body forms the crux of the suspense.  Megan was a “bored, mad, curious” woman with a past.  The boy with whom she fell in love at the age of 15 died in accident leaving a vacuum in her heart.  The next man whom she learnt to love abandoned her when their little child died due to Megan’s careles

I’m celebrating the occasion of my blog crossing a viewership of four lakh.    First of all, thank you reader for being here.  Every writer loves to be read, I believe.  I’m glad you’re here and obliged to you too.  When I began blogging I had no more than a score or two of readers per day.  Today the daily view of the blog averages around 200.  That matters because it encourages me substantially. Secondly, my blog is the place where I have placed all my hopes and despairs, joys and sorrows, thoughts and feelings quite unabashedly.  It is my alter ego, so to say.  It is the place where I have questioned myself as much as the world around me.  It is the place where I learnt some of the greatest lessons of life. It is the place where I realised that I am no more than an insignificant speck in this vast cosmos of millions of galaxies.  It is the place that taught me to chip away my flatulent ego.  My blog enlarged my imagination beyond the constricted horizons gifted by go

That trickling sweat has more value than all words, words, words The greatest tragedy of evolution is that when the ape descended from the tree its heart refused to evolve.  The brain evolved and continues to do so giving us better and better technology.  The heart remains primitive giving us more and more violence and crimes. Contradictory as it may seem, the solution lies in making people more rational .  The plain truth is that our thoughts determine our feelings and behaviour.  Irrational thoughts produce irrational behaviour.  If I think that my religion is the only correct religion and my god is the only true god, I’ll go around inflicting my religion and god on others.  The solution is to question my thinking.  Is my religion the only correct one?  Is my god the only true god?  That is rational thinking.  Take it at a still more practical level.  My worth depends on the appreciation I receive for the works I do.  This is irrational thinking.  People will love me on