Once upon a time...It was God's own country!

(Frame: Plantheperfectbabyshower.com)

Speeches by the dignitaries and the art of outsourcing

The recent Fareed Zakaria episode has sent warning signals to the people who have mastered the art of plagiarism. I do not wish to judge what he has done as a genuine mistake or as a pure and deliberate intellectual dishonesty. I also do not wish to argue that it  is a result of any professional envy. But, it has sent a message to many who hesitate to acknowledge the source from which they have lifted the content literally.  May be it was a sheer coincidence that on the same day one of the vibrant blogging communities in India detected a few blog posts where patterns of systematic and merciless copying were done.

Recently I was editing a few articles submitted by some high ranking officials for a souvenir. It was very unpleasant to see some glaring plagiarism by two of them (who lifted portions from Wikipedia) without even acknowledging the source. Drawing ideas from others to substantiate one’s point is fine. But one can’t lift several sentences from another person’s work and express as his own and fail to acknowledge the original contributor or source even in the references. This has happened to some of my blog articles as well. In spite of a warning that they are copyrighted, I found that extracts from my blog have been lifted by others. Fortunately for us, through Google we can track such clever practices.

Now I am on a different but akin topic now. That is about the ghost writers and their unaccountability. I somehow feel that some of the highly paid writers and high profile dignitaries who face terrible deadlines and time constraints are in the habit of outsourcing their writings, reports and speeches. This can land them in serious trouble if those people who write on behalf of them have compromised on the originality of the text they wrote.

Ghost writers (or Outsourced writing) and Plagiarism

The profession of ghost writing is not a recent phenomenon. In this era of outsourcing, along with the Business Process Outsourcing (BPO) and Legal Process Outsourcing (LPO), we now have outsourcing of writings of any kind: Speeches, theses, dissertations, editorials and messages. Outsourcing of theses and dissertations are very popular among students of some of the universities where neither the student nor the guide is capable of proving or disproving any hypothesis or has any inclination either to make an experimental or exploratory or descriptive study independently. The entire work is given as a comprehensive contract to a ‘professional thesis writer’ who has mastered the art of ‘content analysis’ of works done on similar themes and can liberally  lift the extracts meticulously.  One could only sympathize with their utterly worst performance during the public viva-voce examination. As theses and dissertations are increasingly being uploaded over internet, one could possibly detect the plagiarized content without much difficulty.

Speeches and Messages

  Our busy leaders need to be worried now. Most of our senior leaders from all fields, viz. corporate, politics, bureaucracy, agree to give speeches and lectures to several audiences. Many are invited to speak every day to different audiences and sometimes more than one speech on the same day. Most of these speeches are delivered through reading from a prepared written text and lasts for 20 minutes to nearly an hour.  Can we believe that these busy leaders prepare these speeches themselves?

I used to believe during my college days that

Voluntary Simplicity: A virtue for prosperity and wellbeing

Simplicity is a virtue. Voluntary simplicity is a greater virtue. It is a personal choice to being simple and modest, amidst abundance. If you feel that you are blessed with reasonable means for livelihood or live in a ‘comfort zone’, then it would be wise to think of practicing voluntary simplicity, occasionally, if not always.

It is called ‘voluntary’, as the act requires deliberate and conscious effort from oneself. It would not be an easy task to come out of the comforts, preferences and habituated life styles. And the action would seem illogical and apparently inconsequential. But the impact such actions of voluntary simplicity creates, is purely personal, satisfying and exemplary.

v  Life will be more meaningful when we create and not when we consume.

v World is unfortunately guided by the economic principle that growth is driven by consumption and expenditure. But such spending drive would not give enduring growth, balanced development and optimum utilization of resources.

v  Aggressive consumption habits will lead to fast depletion of natural resources.

v  It is not those who have more material possessions who receive larger social recognition.

v  There is a limit to which one can really enjoy one’s possessions.

v  When we spend more of our time for tasks that are not ultimately aimed at acquiring material possessions, we will tend to enjoy many beautiful things life offers us.

v  Duane Elgin has said, ‘You need to pursue a living that is outwardly simple and inwardly rich’.

v  One should be able to believe that ‘less is always better’ and ‘more is always a burden’.

v  Voluntary simplicity is not miserliness. It is also not an approach aimed at saving your money.

 (Courtsey: Anonymous)

May be we should try these exercises. Buying only things that we really use, can be a good decision. And we need to use it till its life lasts. Unfortunately our market discourages such frugality (It scares us with new versions making our goods incompatible and beyond repair. This happens mostly with the electronic items). Will it be possible to limit the number of pairs of dress in our cupboards? This is possible if we can donate one of our existing pairs before we buy a new pair of clothes. Same can also be attempted for other personal goods also.

Refrigerator, washing machine, Television, Microwave oven etc are labelled as consumer ‘durables’ that can serve us for a considerable period of time. (Unless they are non-functional or not meeting your important needs). But the profit driven market economy would declare: ‘No spares available’)

J Botherton said, ‘My riches consists not in the extent of my possessions, but in the fewness of my wants’

It is customary among many communities to go on a fasting mode for a few days. There are members of the Jain community who fasts for weeks without taking even a drop of water. It is amazing! I have seen some of those multi-millionaires belonging to this community devote a considerable period in a year in fasting and prayer. Muslims fast on all days in the month of Ramzan. Many Christians avoid non-vegetarian diet during the period of lent and on other selected days. Hindus, before embarking on a pilgrimage (eg. To Sabarimala Temple in Kerala), observes abstinence for several weeks. These are some of the customary practices in voluntary simplicity.

Apart from the above practices, it would be exciting to invent our own unique methods to practice voluntary simplicity now and then. Going for a simple diet for a specific period, skipping one of the meals, abstaining from the favourite dishes, limiting your indulgence in a lavish feast, occasionally leaving your vehicle while going for shopping, sleeping without a mattress or pillow, cutting down your early morning sleep to do something creative etc. are some steps we can try occasionally.

John Burroughs wrote:

“To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter … to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird’s nest or a wildflower in spring—these are some of the rewards of the simple life.” 

10000 steps a day: Is it possible?

Someone told me this, the other day. One should aim at taking 10000 steps a day for complete fitness. Yes, I am talking about 10000 footsteps! How many steps do you take in a day? Have you thought of it? Of course, one can’t keep counting every footstep. But try to estimate how many steps you take in a day.

I started aiming at 10000 steps. Though I used to walk at least five days a week, either in the morning or in the evening or sometimes both times, I am sure I have never reached the 10000 target on any day. Now I try to change my strategies to increase my footsteps in a day. My count started with the morning walk.

(pic.courtsey: Tribune-India)

The walk in the residential colony is very refreshing.  People start walking from as early as 4 am and one can see people walking even at the late hours of the day, till midnight. Some walk very fast, some slowly, and some talk and walk. And I see some people dancing all the way. Many youth use this opportunity to have long intimate wireless chats with the distantly located counterparts. Some listen to their favourite music using earphones. Those senior citizens who do not believe in earphones put their radios in the pocket and listen to the devotionals in the mornings and Kishore Kumar in the evenings. It’s nice to see these lone walkers. However, there are several group walkers, who totally block the foot path without giving way to loners. They walk as a block sharing news, gossips and happenings in their respective familial and official front. They get involved so much in the discussion and literally block other walkers from overtaking them.

(pic.courtsey: mybaggagecounter.blogspot)

I started counting every step. And I gave double score for each step when I jogged. I could hardly reach 4000 steps in the morning. I rushed back home as I needed to finish my newspapers before readying for the office. I worried how I will finish another 6000 steps to reach my target for the day!

Back home, I thought I should get on to the treadmill. It was a recent addition to the highly dense environment in the house. I had miserably failed with just one vote in my favour (my vote) when the resolution regarding buying a treadmill was put to vote in the house. The same majority ruled that the most appropriate place to keep the treadmill is in my study (home-office) room. In fact, this is the destination for all the junk in the house from the decade old broken toys to a number of kitchen devices waiting for a skilled electrician. An FM Radio with speakers was placed near the treadmill. The fortnight was vibrant. But later, the only way to keep the tempo was to push the treadmill towards TV. That worked for a few days. Now, the treadmill has been comfortably positioned in the balcony to dry the clothes. As it was doing a good job there and serves as a good decoration, I didn’t want to disturb it.

But how to take another 6000 steps during the rest of the day? I decided not to use the lift (at least upto 5^th floor) in any buildings where I go. That really worked. I gave double score for each step up. By evening, I reached a score of 5500. Still another 4500 steps left.

I did not take the extreme step of walking back home in the evening. But on the way I got out of the vehicle to make a quick visit to the Club Gym. After changing to the sportswear I got on to one of the treadmills after waiting for about 20 minutes for my turn. Inspired by the sincere aerobic enthusiasts all around, I ran for about 20 minutes. I gave a good score of 2500 to myself. I reached 8000!

Back home in the late evening I was too tired to get off for another walk. After hogging whatever was kept on the dining table, I started my usual yelling to the TV addicted children to vacate the sofa and vanish to their study room.

While relaxing on the sofa, I evaluated my 10000 steps project. Yes, I should have given a score of 4500 for 20 minutes of treadmill! Why not give it now? Done! I slept peacefully!!

The bird of paradise

(55 fiction)

(Pic.courtsey: outlookafghanistan.net)

He loves this month. Gates of heaven opens during this month.

He spends all the evenings in front of the mosque.

His mother, wife and four children wait anxiously in front of the veranda, till he brings plenty to fill their stomachs.

While others fasted, they feasted. Because it is Ramadan rest of the year.

Sibichen K Mathew

The Heartbeats of Love

All She Needs is Love   Part-VII

The Heartbeats of Love

Mariamma peeped through the windows of the bedroom to see the guests of the day. Two men in their fifties, one lady of around 40 years, and a young man in his early twenties were sitting on the veranda accompanied by Joseph, who is a marriage dallal (whose job is to introduce prospective matches to the parents of the men and women of marriageable age). 

Joseph is a familiar person in the household, as he used to come with marriage proposals for Mariamma’s aunt. After undergoing several such ordeals, nothing fructified into a marriage and Mariamma’s aunt decided to become the bride of the Lord. She joined the Congregation of Mother of Carmel, which has its origin in the year 1866 at a small village called Koonammavu in Kerala. Mariamma’s aunt was happy at the convent, and she got the opportunity to study in English School and became a teacher in the St Aloysius Upper Primary School.

Dallal Joseph objectively moderated the proud presentation of family virtues by both parties. While Mariamma’s Appachan mentioned about the number of persons from their lineage who were selected to be priests and nuns, the elderly man from the other side, Thomman, did not want to

Goodbye to Gooseberry?

All She Needs is Love    Part-VI

Goodbye to Gooseberry?

  The twin boys grew up well nourished. Mariamma and her younger sisters had to be satisfied with lesser allotment of milk for their coffee. And the hens’ eggs, after the sales made to needy neighbours and to Thomas chettan’s tea shop in the junction, were exclusively kept for the twins. Mariamma’s sisters hated the hens because of this and angrily ward of the hens whenever they tried to come anywhere near them. They liked only the big red cock. They fed him well with the expectation of a good feast, next Christmas.

Mariamma didn’t bother much about such mundane things like her sisters. She sincerely served her mother. From early morning to late night she was hard up with unending household chores and rearing the cow, two goats and a kid, and more than a dozen of hens.  She enjoyed bathing the naughty twins and putting talcum powder on their body and dressing them up. She carried them on both the hips to the neighbours’ houses and played along with other children till her mother yelled them to return.

Every night, before she slept, she took her slate and scribbled several lines and then rubbed of everything. Many nights she dreamed

Communist Gospel according to Saint Lukose

All she needs is Love: PART V

Communist Gospel according to Saint Lukose

Mariamma’s absence in class for three days made Lukose Sir worry. He enquired from her friends.

They said: ‘Mariamma has stopped her studies. Her mother delivered twins and Mariamma has to look after them’.

That was a shocking news for Lukose Sir. How can a bright student like Mariamma drop out from school? That too, a girl aspiring to be a judge! He decided to go to Mariamma’s house and meet her father.

Mariamma was washing the clothes of babies and the mother when Lukose sir walked into her house. As the well and the washing stone was quite in front of the house, all washing and brushing were done in full view of all the visitors. Men folk performed their lavish bath (twice daily) in full public view. Ladies bathed in the late evenings as darkness engulfed the area or, carry their buckets to the thatched shed behind the

Broken slate and a lovely dream

All She Needs is Love

PART-IV

Broken slate and a lovely dream

Lukose master was going through the slates of his students in Class IV in St Thomas School, Karukachal. He found that the tall slender girl who was sitting in the last row on the cement floor had written so neatly, all the letters of the Malayalam alphabet.

He said ‘Sabash!’ meaning ‘excellent’.

The girl, who was clad in a white chatta^[1] and mundu^[2], felt happy and looked at her friends with a proud smile. Her name was Mariamma.

Lukose master was a terror not only for the students, but also for most of the teachers. No one used to be bothered much about the headmaster Kuriachan Sir who was regularly irregular to the school. Kuriachan sir was more interested to look after his chena (yam), kappa (tapioca), kaachil (another variety of yam) and a host of vegetables in his land rather than teaching students

Save our Sports!

·      Beena was the eldest of the four daughters of a rubber tapping labourer from a hilly district of Kerala. Mr Thomas, the physical educational instructor of St George School spotted the athletic talent in this poor, slender girl, while she was in Class 7. The dedication that she made to athletics that day continued for several years. When she won her district, state, and country many gold medals, no one knew that she ran on empty stomach and that her family lived under thatched roof. When an opportunity came to showcase her talent in a prestigious international meet, the selection team and the sports authorities quietly replaced her with another less competent girl who had political backing. Beena’s talent remained in her remote village and is now living as a plantation worker.

This is just a representative case to show how patronage from the powerful can decide one’s future in sports.

·     Indian Hockey team arrived jubilantly after defeating a strong opponent. But they were reportedly ridiculed and humiliated by offering a paltry twenty five thousand rupees per player whereas each cricket team member received rewards in lakhs for a similar victory.

                                                                                                     

Why this discrimination? Critics say, cricket is big money, honey!

·       India won more than 100 medals in the in the recent Commonwealth Games, held at New  Delhi. Apart from this, the final tally included 45 cases of corruption and more than a dozen arrests.  It was alleged that there is misappropriation and mismanagement of thousands of crores.

Dick Ritger had said: ‘All sports are games of inches’. But we can correct this to, ‘All sports are games of riches’!

The above three are just representative samples of thousands of instances of dishonest, unfair and unscrupulous actions by the powers that controlled the sports in India. The first one is an illustration of how millions of meritorious sports persons are unjustly pushed out of the courts to make way for those who wield power. The second one is a clear indication of how business interests make or break a game. And the third points towards a deeper malaise that increasingly gripped the Indian society. The cancer of corruption has spread far and wide to every institution of society. And field of sports is the latest casualty.

What is common in all the above cases? Power and Money. It doesn’t matter whether there is a politician, bureaucrat, businessman, sports person or a social activist at the helm of the affairs. What matters is their driving force. Either the source or the destination or both could be either money or power or both. Let us analyse this in detail. Before we analyse this in detail, let us try to answer the following controversial question.

Should we make sports leadership out of bounds for politicians?

My instinctive answer is a big NO. But, if many politicians are corrupt, we have as many corrupt bureaucrats, sports persons, activists and religious leaders. There is no sector of the population which is untouched by the evil of dishonesty, nepotism and corruption. We need to rank which profession is corrupt based on the opportunity to be corrupt. Politicians and bureaucrats are at a comparatively vulnerable position to use and abuse money and power. But when the right opportunity knocks at their doors, our sportsmen, activists or the spiritual gurus also quietly tread into dishonest paths for personal gains. We have innumerable examples of unethical practices by persons from each of these professions. Thus the persons don’t matter; but an environment that facilitates corruption and inefficiency matters. What is needed is the creation of a system that insulates corrupt practices in sports. Before I conclude this topic, let me discuss once again if we should ban politicians from heading sports bodies.

  (courtsey)

Probably there may not be any other professional label in English language that instantly evokes a suspicious response than the word ‘Politician’.  The negativity triggers such an intense feeling that people started using this noun to anyone who is manipulative, shrewd and deceptive. Even politicians do not like them to be addressed as such, but prefers nomenclature like civic leader, social worker etc.

In a democratic polity, the politicians, whether actually a part of the ruling power structure or not, represents a cross section of society. They are assigned the roles of presenting and solving the issues faced by people. In a representative governance system, ideally, the political leaders decide about the generation and utilization of resources for the common good. Thus by having a politician as one of the decision makers in a sports body would prove to be beneficial for the prospects of sports which should be done within a systemic frame work explained at the end of this article.

Can the leadership of the sports bodies be entrusted exclusively with sportsmen? ….And if they are having political or commercial interest?

Konrad Lawrence wrote: ‘A specialist knows more and more about less and less and finally knows everything but nothing.’

This is true in the area of sports as well. The roles, functions, powers, vision and mission of a large sports body are wide, exhaustive and comprehensive. There are technical, managerial, supervisory, and inspirational skills needed to lead such an organization. Expertise in sports or a particular game is only one of the many attributes to step into the shoes. While a sportsman can assess the needs and priorities through his technical expertise, he also needs professional competence, ethical standing, managerial effectiveness, wider outlook and leadership traits that ensure cohesion and solidarity. If these are present, a sportsman would be the most suitable person to head a sports body.

Unfortunately, as in any other field, sports are also marred by allegations of dishonesty, unethical practices, and nepotism by sportsmen, former sportsmen and sports officials like coaches, umpires etc. That does not mean that there is a dearth for honest, disciplined and visionary individuals among the sports persons. As any other person of similar integrity and competence, sports persons are also eligible for selection to the top leadership of sports bodies. In fact, other things being equal, they would be at an advantageous position as compared to others due to their core competence.

 It is a fact that major sports events are not just a platform to showcase healthy competition, but avenues to provide mass entertainment, to make huge profits, for wide reaching advertisements, and to derive opportunities to wield power, and become points of strategic convergence of all of these. Therefore, there are conflicts of interests, promotion of particular interests and suppression of public interest. Being an important party in the events sportspersons do play a crucial role in all of these. This is more conspicuous when the sportspersons either directly or indirectly, manage or control marginally or substantially an event. Though many instances of such unholy nexus between sportsmen and various interests have come to light and available in the public domain, specific references are avoided here as some of these are continued to be disputed legally.

It is clear from the aforesaid discussion that sportsmen with commercial and political interest, latent or manifest, or direct or indirect cannot be a fit candidate for occupying any decisive role in any sports body.

The solution

What is imperative today is to create a system in place that formulates clear rules and guidelines regarding the eligibility and fair selection of office bearers of sports body and detailing a clear code of conduct.

Here are some suggestions:

•  It is immaterial who the person is; be it a politician or bureaucrat or businessman or sportsperson, or an activist. The eligibility should be restricted to persons of proven integrity, exemplary conduct in public life and higher levels of competence to manage and lead the team and reasonable expertise in the area of sports.
•  There should be a fixed tenure and should not be eligible for re-appointment.
•  In case of any allegation of conflict of interest, the onus should be shifted to the functionary to disprove the allegations with clear evidence.
•  The body should consist of representatives who satisfy above criteria and should necessarily have sufficient representation from important categories of sports.
•  The National Sports Bill, which is yet to be passed by the Parliament, should be reformulated.
•  Politicians who are saddled with  ministerial responsibilities should not be permitted to head the body.
•  Sportspersons and others who are selected for the post should give a declaration that they or their close relatives or associates do not have any  pecuniary interest that has any remote connection with the performance of roles and functions associated.
•  There should be a comprehensive cost and system audit and the report should be tabled in Parliament. The auditors should not be eligible for reappointment.

Concluding note

Thus, I would like to conclude my discussion stressing that, the posts of heads of sports bodies, instead of reserving only to the sportspersons, can be given to any person who has proved his integrity, core competence, administrative efficiency, and inspirational leadership traits.

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This post has been published by me as a part of IBL; the Battle of Blogs

The permission

All She Needs is Love

PART-III

Dear Grandma

    I showed my last letter to you, to a few of my friends. They were amused by the way you lived your life confidently, courageously and royally. And they would love to hear more about you.

    I remember you telling me once. “Write a story about your Grandpa and me. Or, you can better write a screenplay for a beautiful movie. People would really wonder whether such a ‘story’ could ever happen in real life!’

      So, I am continuing your story, thanking you for giving me permission.

 Read Part-IV  Broken slate and a lovely dream  

    
(Part-I)    (Part-II)

Hot rice in an emotional bowl

Serial fiction inspired from a life queen size

If you have missed  All She Needs is Love Part-1 (A Letter to Grandma) 

 Click here (Part-1)

Part-2

Hot rice in an emotional bowl

“Who knows for sure when he would come! Do you think your grandpa converses and shares with his wife, like other husbands?”

Indeed, a difficult question to be answered by a 12 year old.

You continued:

‘Don’t you know how much I suffer? No other woman would have tolerated a husband like this. Life goes on because of Ammachi’s patience and tolerance beyond limits of the earth.’

‘Grandma, why do you say that? Grandpa is really a very loving person!’ I used to retort.

‘Mon, what do you know about your Grandpa? He is such an actor! He calls for sympathy from all his children and siblings. He likes to portray me as a horrible lady before everyone. Who brought up all his children and took care of their needs? Who saved money and took charge of the children’s education and maintenance of the house? He never appreciates my wise and frugal home management. My brothers support my family because of their love, affection and sympathy for their sister, who is unfortunately destined to live with an indolent man.’

‘But Ammachi, I see Grandpa bringing lots of goodies home. He buys the biggest fish in the market and brings unniyappam and bonda (sweets from the tea shop) for us. He gets us oranges and black grapes when he goes to Kottayam (nearest town).’

‘Do you think that these are great things? Does he ever buy groceries promptly without me yelling at him and after several reminders?

‘And the big fish that you talk about! Don’t you know what time he brings that fish full of flakes and bones? At 11 O’clock, at night. And this poor Ammachi has to spend the whole night to clean it up!’

‘Only Grandpa does that for you, no? I have seen him cleaning and cutting the fish so meticulously?’

‘Not always, my dear. Even then, who cooks it? He wants both fish curry and fish fry for his dinner, the very night itself. And you said about him bringing oranges and grapes from Kottayam. That is another joke which I will tell you later. Let me check if the rice is ready or not’. 

You looked at the sun’s rays on the veranda and said  it is 12 noon now. And you rushed to the kitchen.

On the way you murmured, ‘He will come hungry, now. Let me prepare his favourite chutney with the raw mangoes he brought yesterday’

Grandma, your grievances against your husband were never ending. As your children refused to hear the oft repeated grumblings and complaints, you found a new breed of patient listeners, in your grand children. You felt really relieved after sharing the stories of your difficult life with your husband. You didn’t mind the age of the grand children who listened. You believed that anybody above 8 years can very well appreciate your genuine grievances and your efficiency and that they can be clearly convinced about your husband’s irresponsible behaviour in the family. 

(Thus, it was not only me who was happy to skip school, but also my grandma who enjoyed my presence at home, as the representative of the grand children could be appropriately indoctrinated about the comparative merits between two grand-parents.)

Grandma, you continued medicines for cholesterol, blood pressure and diabetes, for more than four decades. You identified each tablet by their colours and never missed even a single dose of medicine in your life. As in case of your favourite brands of soap, talcum powder, body oil, hair oil and face cream, you stocked medicines for the next two months, in your custody. 

You used to remind your husband to buy you medicine, then your children and in the later years, also your daughters-in-law. Stocks are ordered to be delivered at different timing so that one person will not get a chance to know that another one has already supplied the same set of medicines. That was your way of ensuring uninterrupted supply of medicines. Same was the case of Asanaviluadi oil (for hair), Dhanyantwaram kuzhambu (body oil), Cuticura talcum powder, Nivea face cream and Pears transparent soap. I wonder if this practice was a result of your apprehension after reading about the Great Bengal Famine of 1943. 

I truly wondered how scrupulous you were in selecting the right brand of rice for meals. You used to ask grandpa to bring rice samples home, before buying a sack of rice. You would look at and feel each grain on your palm and then would give a nod if that brand had to be brought. Sometimes you would cook it, to see if it takes a long time to get cooked. (This meant consumption of more firewood). I remember occasions where grandpa violated your directions, resulting in you sending back the entire sack of rice to the grocery shop.

How did you transform Grandpa into a quiet cat at home? A man who served the Indian Army, who had a large network of friends and clients while practising as a freelance law assistant, preferred a low profile at home. You were a towering personality and had made lasting impressions with your unique attitudes and perceptions about life. 

I would like to write more about you. 

Would you mind others knowing you?

All she needs is love

Serial fiction inspired from a life queen size

A Letter to Grandma

My dearest Grandma,

       I am extremely sorry to call you Grandma. You never let your grand children or great grand children to address you as ‘Valyammachi’ (Grandma, in Malayalam), because you feared that such an address will be an assertion that you have become an old lady. Fearing your reprimand, all your children, grand children, great grand children, and servants called you Ammachi (mother). And you wanted all your friends, neighbours and relatives to call you by name (Mariamma) unless they were several years younger to you. You used to declare that most of them were elder to you.

     Today, when my daughter insisted on buying a Pears transparent soap during our Sunday shopping at Spar, I suddenly remembered you, because that was your favourite brand for several decades. You had the habit of stocking at least a dozen of them in your wooden almirah.

      I remember your almirah which was customized as per your directions by the carpenter with three locks, fixed equidistant from top to bottom. You always ensured that none of us peeks through while you open it, and in case anyone tried to, you would position your tall hefty body to hide the view. But from what we, youngsters could get a glimpse at different points of time, we almost prepared an inventory of goodies inside it along with their location and shared with your inquisitive children who never dared to come near your almirah.

     They were prohibited from attempting to come near to the almirah from their childhood as you were sure that they would leak the information about the contents to your husband (our grandpa). Most of these Almost everything inside the almirah were ‘undisclosed assets’. And you used to declare that these contents were unaccountable before your husband. You proudly maintained the position that the entire source is from your benevolent brothers and nothing for your husband to take credit of.


         Not only the contents of the almirah, but also its keys were kept safe in your ‘madikuthu’ (the tucking of the cloth at the waist, while wearing it around the waist). We wonder where you hid them whenever you were moved to surgery tables. You might have reposed more trust in those lovely nurses than your own children. While you were on the surgery table, your children must have prayed and worried not only about your health but also about the whereabouts of the bunch of keys. But you always repossessed your keys from undisclosed recipients immediately after each surgery, in the post-operative ward itself.

   You liked medicines, hospital visits and long chats with your favourite physician, Dr Ravichandran. You even faced the surgery table with a smile. When one had to wait patiently for a word to come out of his mouth and lend his ears completely and place it in proximity to his mouth, and watch closely his lip movements to decipher what he says, how could you spend such a long time with him who was known for his irritating silence and expression-free face? Your unstinted faith in the doctor and in Allopathic medicines made you feel better, from rheumatic arthritis to hair loss.

     I used to see you popping several tablets of different colours into your mouth since your early forties. That is my earliest memory which I can recall of me as a nine year old boy, when I used to spend my days in your house, skipping my school due to frequent head aches.

      The reason for my frequent headaches was more of diagnostic in nature than of physiological. One needs a lot of personal experience to detect the existence and intensity of this most favoured disease among children as well as attention seeking adults.

      Not knowing my prize winning talent in Mono Acting practice, my mother used to be very sympathetic towards my plight. When evening ends up in unfinished home work, I start my head ache project first, asking permission to hit my bed earlier than usual. (There was a fixed bed time fixed unilaterally by my mother for me and my sister). While ‘mono acting practise would go on under my red blanket, my mother used to apply ‘Vicks Vapo Rub’ on my forehead. (That was her ‘ottamooli’, something like quick fix, for almost all the pains under the sun) Morning, when my mother and sister send their calls to me, my practiced dialogue flows back.

“Severe headache, amma..Can’t open my eyes”. 

     Finally, to my sister’s utter disappointment, my mother would declare, “Okay, let him stay in Valyammachi’s house”
  

    Winning the game, I would get up and quickly pack my small bag with my favourite books. My mother would bring me and my bag to your house which was a kilometre away. Explaining my severe headache condition, mother would hand me over to you. You would check if I have fever by placing your right palm on my forehead. I would act a tired look to convince both of you the gravity of my head ache. Both, you and mother were scared of that severe head ache as only both of you know how my Chachan (Dad) suffered before leaving us for ever!

     While my mother quickly had a bite of tapioca and chilly chutney, you placed a big spoonful of gooseberry pickle which you had prepared, for her to share it with her friends at school.

     As my mother departs to school, I used to come back to my true self. I enjoyed being alone in the house, most of the time I spent on day dreaming. Imaginations galore: becoming a writer, a priest, a saint, a bus conductor, bus owner, a singer, and many more. But your long conversations used to interrupt my dreams.

     After a very late, extensive tooth brushing, with a unique mixture of powdered salt and ummikkari (roasted husk of rice), you used to have your breakfast around 10 30 am. Then you would sit and read the daily news paper “Malayala Manorama”, rather loudly, not only the regional, but also the national and international news. You would plan the lunch only around noon as you wanted to serve grandpa, a hot steamy meal.

    As I lie down on the cot, bubbling with colourful imaginations and fascinated by the funny figures on the wall caused by withered paint and funny movements of ants, you used to bring me a glass of kanji vellam. (red rice soup).

 “When will grandpa come for lunch?” My innocent question would trigger an unending emotional narration from you.

                                               Will Grandma allow me to continue publishing the rest of this letter?

Click here for Part-2 'Hot rice in an emotional bowl'