Tomichan Matheikal's blog

Book Review Sitharaam Jayakumar’s third book is titled A to Z of Men and Women who Excelled in Sports . The 26 biographies were written for an A to Z challenge for bloggers organised by a blogger community. Jayakumar has compiled them into an elegant e-book. One of the best things about Jayakumar’s writing is its eminent readability. To be able to write without placing obstacles between the writer’s notions and the reader’s mind is a precious gift and Jayakumar possesses it. Most of the biographies in this book read like fascinating tales that keep you glued. Even those who are not interested in sportspersons – people like me, for instance – will be hooked to this book precisely because of the way the author presents the lives. During my childhood I was an admirer of Bobby Fischer because I learnt the subtleties of chess from a book written by him. I found the book in my father’s collection and spent quite much of my annual vacation on some of the challenging positions

Image courtesy wonderslist.com Fiction Little Raju was sad, very sad. Tiny drops of iridescent tears clung to his plump, little cheeks like pearly dewdrops on a shimmering leaf edge yet to be kissed by the rising sun. His cute little cat, prettier than Teddy Bear and naughtier than Jerry’s Tom was killed by a speeding car. Raju had named him Tom. Raju was Tom’s Jerry. No, Tom was Raju’s Jerry, clever and cunning and always on the run. Until a speeding car ran over him. “Tom’s a lucky cat,” grandma said wiping away the pearly drops from Raju’s cheeks. Grandma always said that. Raju believed her too. Until now. Now that Tom is dead, grandma is wrong. Still she said, “Tom’s a lucky cat.” “Tom’s a dead cat,” Raju protested. “He died young,” grandma said, “only lucky cats die young.” Tom was a little kitten that was roaming outside the gate when Raju returned home from school one afternoon.   Little kitten. Cute little kitten with golden brown patches on h

Maggie took all the trouble to cook Shahi Paneer because I mentioned some time ago that I missed the dish which used to be a weekly delicacy at the school where we taught in Delhi. Since it was a residential school, the teachers also had their meals with the students. More than 400 people would be seated in the cavernous dining hall, called Mess, and served by waiters attired in clean white livery. The food was delicious most of the time and Shahi Paneer was arguably the queen on the menu. As I relished chapattis with Shahi Paneer yesterday after a gap of a few years, I realised that it was not the culinary delicacy that I really missed but certain memories which they evoked. Sawan Pubic School in Delhi was the first place where I tasted Shahi Paneer and the dish would always remind me of that school, the institution where I enjoyed working more than anywhere else. The school was killed by a religious cult and the details are given in my latest book, Autumn Shadows .   Certa

I met Ruskin Bond about two decades ago in a luxury hotel of ITC in Mumbai. He was the chief guest of a prize distribution function organised by ITC and one of my students was a winner whom I accompanied from school. The young students lost interest in the great writer as soon as they got the autographs. Eventually Mr Bond stood all alone in a corner of the dining hall where dinner was being arranged. Even the organisers were not in sight. I smiled at him and he reciprocated. I hesitated to start a conversation with him just because I had not read anything much of what he had written except a few articles in some newspapers. Anyway, Mr Bond didn’t have to stand there alone for long. The organisers arrived and took him to a prominent place in the hall which he deserved. Those students who received prizes from him that day were all winners of a national level short story competition conducted by ITC which had just launched a new brand called Classmates for students’ stationery.

One of the greatest thinkers of the twentieth century, Bertrand Russell, said, “Most people would sooner die than think; in fact, they do so.” A lion’s share of the evils in the human world could be pre-empted if people started making use of their thinking faculty. When I returned home an hour ago after dropping Maggie at her workplace, Kittu, my cat, accompanied me from the car porch as he usually does and entered the house even before I did. He has inculcated a sense of entitlement, thanks to my pampering as Maggie alleges. He did something odd today. Instead of going to one of his usual places to sleep, he climbed on to the chair which I normally use for working with my laptop. He went to sleep within seconds. He usurped my place without a second thought.   Kittu: Self-contentment Well, there’s no first thought either for him. Like Walt Whitman , I always end up envying his thoughtless self-contentment. Whitman wished to be like the animals. “They are so placid,” he

Monica, a distant acquaintance of mine, was waiting for a bus at the junction as I happened to drive by. I stopped the car and she accepted the lift. “Today is Akshaya Tritiya,” she said when I asked her something to start a conversation.   She was going to buy a little gold, “just a few grams”, to ensure prosperity for her family at least for the coming year. “This is like Modi ji making the quadratic equation or the Fermi problem the main theme of his election campaign,” I said. “What’s the connection?” She wondered aloud. “I know that you are an inveterate Modi-baiter. But what’s the connection with Akshaya Tritiya?” “What’s the connection between Akshaya Tritiya and your family’s prosperity?” I threw a counter-question. “Don’t tell me you don’t watch the TV,” she said. “Haven’t you seen at least some of those ads about Akshaya Tritiya?” Just then a huge billboard appeared round the corner. “This prosperity is like the fifteen lakhs promised by

American singer and actor Reba McEntire identified wish, guts and humour as the three ingredients of success. She called them “wishbone, backbone and funny bone.” Life is a struggle from birth to death. It is a struggle against all sorts of hurdles and pitfalls that inevitably come our way. In order to overcome those hurdles and pitfalls, we need dreams, guts and humour. There are plenty of examples from history to illustrate this. Let me take an old example: the family of King Edward I of England and his wife. Queen Eleanor (1241-1307) bore 16 children between 1255 and 1284. She lived in palaces, ate the best food, had all the luxury she could wish for in those days, and also had an army of servants and the best of doctors. Yet her children died one after another. 1.      First daughter died in 1255 at birth. 2.      Daughter Catherine died in childhood, did not live beyond the age of 3. 3.      Another daughter Joan died at the age of six months. 4.      Son John