Basically I am a teacher and reader. Writing has been only a residual of that, and I enjoy that painful bliss. Occasionally I have done a few translations too.
Way back in late 90’s, on August 16, 1999, I translated a piece entitled “A leave letter by a disobedient student” published in small magazine (Kavithaikkaran Aug’99), and later reproduced in Kumudham weekly, a popular one in Tamil Nadu.
My father was burnt alive, in the caste clash yesterday night. My mother is very sick and admitted into a corporation hospital. My elder brother, who had gone to city in search of job, has not returned yet. The younger brother at home has been taken by police, mistakenly as a terrorist. There is no one at home to provide milk to my sister (baby) crying in her cradle. Don’t mistake me sir, the front side of my half-pant too has been torn. Under the circumstances mentioned above I am unable to attend the Ministers flag hoisting ceremony at our school, on this Independence Day.
- Yours disobedient student.
Late Sujatha, a popular writer in Tamil Fiction did some rewrite of Sangam Literature Poems (Pura Nannuru Padal) into modern verse (Pudukkavidaigal) which I attempted to translate into English at that time. That is given below:
I am afraid to raise alarm
Lest a tiger might come
And attack us.
I would like to carry you,
But you are too muscular and heavy
Let the unjust person
Instrumental for your current state
Also suffer like me.
There’s shelter at the feet of the mountain
Hold on to my bangle adored hand
We shall walk a
Little distance.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
It is more painful to hear people whom we know disappear in the midway at their prime.
In the first week of the new year, I was hearing the sudden demise of one Ph.D scholar in his late 20s in the campus and my second daughter’s close friend’s husband who was in late 30s – a charming person with a friendly smile . Both are related to the discipline of chemistry. In the last week that husband wanted to meet me to tell something and somehow he has left this world without telling a word .The sight of him driving the scooter with his four year old son standing in the front will continue to linger in my memory for along time . About the Ph.D scholar, I don’t have much details excepting that he was a friend of my Ph.D scholar, who too had a mild heart attack towards the end of last year and for whom the boy who is no more did extend some monetary help. Why do people at prime of youth die? One doesn’t know the answer. We will never know the secrets of living and dying
In my diaries I have written more about life and death . I am not able to locate them now . As and when I stumble upon them , I will share with my fellow humans . Indeed , when one nears the old age , he or she thinks about death and what will happen to I and My of our personality? Although one cannot unravel the mystery of life after death , one thing is sure to me that I am part of a larger universe , a tiny dot and can’t escape from it and hence all of us will continue to live even after the physical frame is dissolved into the cosmos . In what form we will be and how long it would take to come back to Earth or some other planet in some part of the galaxy, we are not sure? It is better that we don’t have answers for this kind of questions.
This week I received a mail, a poem on slowing down in life by a teenage girl, suffering from cancer in the U.S.I felt that I should share that with the broader audience .Before I close, let me pray that she must have all the strength, both mental and physical to surmount this disease and live longer: she her self says that her days are numbered, perhaps some months or an year but we will assure her that she is going to be with us for a longer time . We will get more poems from her . All of us are here on bonus time . We are all like butterflies on a rotating wheel, living , loving and labouring without hurt. when we will be sucked into the vortex of unknown we don’t know .
Now, the poem written by her.
Have you ever watched kidsOn a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rainslapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
You better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Do you run through each dayOn the fly?
When you ask How are you?
Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done
Do you lie in your bed
With the next hundred chores
Running through your head?
You'd better slow down
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Ever told your child, We'll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste,Not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch,
Let a good friendship die
Cause you never had time
To call and say,'Hi'
You'd better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.T
he music won't last.
When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift....
Thrown away.
Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over.
In my diaries I have written more about life and death . I am not able to locate them now . As and when I stumble upon them , I will share with my fellow humans . Indeed , when one nears the old age , he or she thinks about death and what will happen to I and My of our personality? Although one cannot unravel the mystery of life after death , one thing is sure to me that I am part of a larger universe , a tiny dot and can’t escape from it and hence all of us will continue to live even after the physical frame is dissolved into the cosmos . In what form we will be and how long it would take to come back to Earth or some other planet in some part of the galaxy, we are not sure? It is better that we don’t have answers for this kind of questions.
This week I received a mail, a poem on slowing down in life by a teenage girl, suffering from cancer in the U.S.I felt that I should share that with the broader audience .Before I close, let me pray that she must have all the strength, both mental and physical to surmount this disease and live longer: she her self says that her days are numbered, perhaps some months or an year but we will assure her that she is going to be with us for a longer time . We will get more poems from her . All of us are here on bonus time . We are all like butterflies on a rotating wheel, living , loving and labouring without hurt. when we will be sucked into the vortex of unknown we don’t know .
Now, the poem written by her.
Have you ever watched kidsOn a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rainslapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
You better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Do you run through each dayOn the fly?
When you ask How are you?
Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done
Do you lie in your bed
With the next hundred chores
Running through your head?
You'd better slow down
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Ever told your child, We'll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste,Not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch,
Let a good friendship die
Cause you never had time
To call and say,'Hi'
You'd better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.T
he music won't last.
When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift....
Thrown away.
Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
What did Luxumburg Park and Versailles Garden teach me?:"We need to cultivate our Gardens"
A.G.Cronin (1896-1981) was a doctor by profession and eventually he became a writer. As an under graduate student, I had my exposure to his writings in Readers Digest and later I read some of his novels. His passion for writing was there alive and kicking until his death.
A.G.Cronin’s classic write up , the resurrection of Joao Jacinto first published somewhere around mid 60s was again reprinted in the late 2000s , as it was a superb classic masterpiece .After returning from Paris, I happened to read once again. It is really a true story of a man who came resurrected after death. He was humiliated and wounded and highly embittered by erstwhile lady love, who moved towards greener pastures after hearing about his death. By a strange quirk of fate, he then bounced back to work with a dilapidated body while his sturdy heart craved for erecting a kind of monument which no one could hardly imagine and believe emerge out of his soiling of hands with mother Earth.
As a young man of 30 years, well built, he chooses the hard way of a Fisher man for living and he is engaged to the prettiest woman, Manuela Maria in his home town. In one of his trips on the sea, a calamity strikes him and the news come from the parent ship that, he is gone once and for all.
No sooner than Manuela Maria, his lady love weeps over his death with all sadness in her heart in the church, she marries a young man as she has brought with her sufficient dowry of cultivable land, ideal for growing oranges. At one moment she was genuinely crying for her lover and at another, she was smiling holding her hands with new hands of husband, forgetting the past , as a false memory . A typical earthly girl, a pragmatist.
After some time the unexpected good news comes: the ship that ran over his boat had collected him his ribs and leg bones broken and the region round his pelvis being virtually crushed into little pieces like marbles. It took many months for repairing his wounded parts and make him walk with a stick, walking all bent forward.
His lady love, once and for all gone to somebody’s arm for comfort ad pleasure in a typical earthly way and his old mother ,craving for some care and some space, he willingly accepts the offer to serve as the official of the Parka, which is always dusty and littered with fruit peals
It is frustratingly an irritating experience to live this way and carve out a world of his own- a world of seclusion and exclusion from others. But he does not have any complaint with life or himself until that fateful day, when a more devastating event virtually shakes him up and folds him into an excruciating pain. That was when his erstwhile girl, to whom he was previously engaged shows her indifference and disregard towards him first while passing by his side and then giving a glance –a sharp and quick one, with all contempt packed into it, which comes as an insult to the injury to him . He was unable to digest and tolerate this humiliation.
This sarcasm and despising look, virtually resurrects him to a new life which even he could not have imagined. He resolves to do something durable and memorable in order that, no body could bury him and that he would live for ever. Overcoming his physical disabilities with the help of his two strong arms alone he transforms the surface of the soil, taking out the stones, shifting the soil, planting shrubs and plants and watering them daily. Making a garden this way the hardest way with a single minded focus , instills a lot of change and pride in him . Respect returns to him with renewed vigour and strength. With change of seasons, the garden grows with infinite color and festivity giving the shade and smell . The author , A.G.Cronin meets the gardener at work and shakes hand with him . He says, that he sees the famous Portuguese poet ,Camoes in him. Like the famous poet, the gardener is also a creator and the inspirer. To our Jacinto, he owes to garden as much the garden owes to him and they both grow together. It is really a shared growth. Indeed they need each other for survival.
Personally it is a rewarding experience for Cronin to meet this old man, virtually battered by life but not yielding to its cruelties, wickedness, and all its absurdities. For weeks he had been cursing and pitying himself, nursing his symptoms in sunshine, and escaping into indolence. But here is a old man with all his physical disabilities under the sun and denial of love, not to speak of a grand betrayal and ridicule by that pretty girl who was once engaged to him has survived and lived well radiating happiness all around, could now resurrect himself like Jesus and bounce back to life not by any spiritual miracle but by sheer physical work, creating beauty out of chaos and more pain rocking his mind. A physically disabled man, but mentally strong and vibrant has shown the way to a Doctor who also happen to be a writer/ novelist.
The image of that bent man in the Squares garden would be an inspirational symbol and act as an inducement to master adversity in life as symbolically implied by Voltaire, when he said, “we need to cultivate our gardens.”
A.G.Cronin ends the article by saying, “only in fulfilling ourselves at the highest level of our capabilities, developing our lives in terms of social usefulness and benefit to the common good can be justified ourselves as the members of society.”
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
From My Dateless Dairy: A Farewell Note from Joe’s Father: A Primer on childhood/school friendship
On June 29th, 2002 I wrote this Farewell Note to my daughter’s friend on her way to the United States to pursue her higher studies. This letter sum up the essence of childhood friendship, which every one of us want to cherish and reflect upon.
In less than a fortnight, your scheduled flight to the U.S.-the dreamland for the young will take place. All of us would miss your company and feel the absence terribly. And yet we know that the U.S. trip is most welcome for two reasons;
i) Your stay at the U.S. would blanket you with mother’s love and care.
ii) That dreamland will provide you more opportunities and challenges for upward academic mobility and growth.
By reflecting and ruminating over that pleasant prospect, we all feel terribly happy.
From Pre-K.G. to school final, we confront and coexist with a host of friends. Continually, some slip in and a few slip out. Towards the end, only a select few-a truly blessed man a handful remains to comfort our heart and soul. Yes! Nature has its own mysterious ways of filtering meticulously and bestowing more mercifully both spark of love and a hand of friendship. What ultimately remains is a distilled essence of pure love-the innocent unaccusing love and affection.
The Economics and Politics, including the Chemistry and Physics behind the veil of entry and exit of that friendship, are indeed very difficult to unravel. In the never ending journey of life, it is also difficult to say who is our good friend and to what extent we are to others. If you are able to hold on to the childhood school friends even at the old age, you must be a gifted one.
All said and done, any adjective will be a poor substitute to exemplify both the utility and value of school friendship. A series of continual misunderstanding or wrong way of communications of feelings and sometime a short term estrangement in relationship may take place due to inadequacy of love or excess of it. And yet the school friendship is always warm, intimate and enveloping. It will always have a calm and pacifying presence in life.
At the time of parting, we don’t say good-bye, as the word is conventionally associated with sadness. Instead, all of us would like to lock up all the pleasant memories about you, deep into our heart and just rejoice over it. Any separation, any delinking, which takes place in a spontaneous fashion must be for the ultimate good and we should learn to live with it and profit by it.
Before I end this farewell note, shall I quote a passage from a book written by Herbert Welch, the Bishop of Methodist Church, in his hundredth year:
“God has not made a world in which security and ease and happiness are the highest attainments; but rather a world of watchfulness, for work, for struggle, and for suffering as a normal part of the full life.
I see to my comfort, that God has established a society, not of pleasant puppets and happy playboys, but of men and women whose characters have been shaped through conflicts, doubts, hardships and perhaps defeats. Life, as god planned it is not to be a nursery for coddling of perpetual infants, but a school for adult education”.
The ancient Thirukkural sums up the essence of life in the same vein
Simply translated, those who do not crave for sensual pleasures/materialistic life and who know that suffering is the spice of life, do not suffer.
Best Wishes for a Productive Academic life
In less than a fortnight, your scheduled flight to the U.S.-the dreamland for the young will take place. All of us would miss your company and feel the absence terribly. And yet we know that the U.S. trip is most welcome for two reasons;
i) Your stay at the U.S. would blanket you with mother’s love and care.
ii) That dreamland will provide you more opportunities and challenges for upward academic mobility and growth.
By reflecting and ruminating over that pleasant prospect, we all feel terribly happy.
From Pre-K.G. to school final, we confront and coexist with a host of friends. Continually, some slip in and a few slip out. Towards the end, only a select few-a truly blessed man a handful remains to comfort our heart and soul. Yes! Nature has its own mysterious ways of filtering meticulously and bestowing more mercifully both spark of love and a hand of friendship. What ultimately remains is a distilled essence of pure love-the innocent unaccusing love and affection.
The Economics and Politics, including the Chemistry and Physics behind the veil of entry and exit of that friendship, are indeed very difficult to unravel. In the never ending journey of life, it is also difficult to say who is our good friend and to what extent we are to others. If you are able to hold on to the childhood school friends even at the old age, you must be a gifted one.
All said and done, any adjective will be a poor substitute to exemplify both the utility and value of school friendship. A series of continual misunderstanding or wrong way of communications of feelings and sometime a short term estrangement in relationship may take place due to inadequacy of love or excess of it. And yet the school friendship is always warm, intimate and enveloping. It will always have a calm and pacifying presence in life.
At the time of parting, we don’t say good-bye, as the word is conventionally associated with sadness. Instead, all of us would like to lock up all the pleasant memories about you, deep into our heart and just rejoice over it. Any separation, any delinking, which takes place in a spontaneous fashion must be for the ultimate good and we should learn to live with it and profit by it.
Before I end this farewell note, shall I quote a passage from a book written by Herbert Welch, the Bishop of Methodist Church, in his hundredth year:
“God has not made a world in which security and ease and happiness are the highest attainments; but rather a world of watchfulness, for work, for struggle, and for suffering as a normal part of the full life.
I see to my comfort, that God has established a society, not of pleasant puppets and happy playboys, but of men and women whose characters have been shaped through conflicts, doubts, hardships and perhaps defeats. Life, as god planned it is not to be a nursery for coddling of perpetual infants, but a school for adult education”.
The ancient Thirukkural sums up the essence of life in the same vein
Simply translated, those who do not crave for sensual pleasures/materialistic life and who know that suffering is the spice of life, do not suffer.
Best Wishes for a Productive Academic life
Paris and Augsburg, Frankfurt and Marburg Drenched me in Sunshine of Love and Friendship.
“There is so much about marriage that is unnatural. I don’t think it’s natural to be monogamous to be as in love, as you were the day before,” said one Hollywood actor whose entry into film was only a freakish accident, with no thought for fame or fortune . Regardless of country or culture, there is a great deal of hypocrisy in relationship and one need to substitute an element of honesty and transparency in relationship.
The essence of life, more particularly, the secret ingredient of life is only love. It’s not just love of your partner, but love of anybody whom you had come across in your life at any point of time. There will be always a man or woman who worked for our happiness, while we were young and growing we have to ruminate over that blissful experience of love and lock that relationship deep into our heart.
Nearly a month old Europe trip, opened up a new vista of love and kindness to me. Many families and friends, a few of them were students long ago, showered their love, care and concern- a debt I can’t fully repay in this birth. Perhaps I shall be partially returning back, not necessarily to them but to altogether to different stock of people whom I may come across life. Looking beyond your close blood relations , and rendering some help to that outside circle, is the most beautiful act that ever we could perform.
Paris and Augsburg have shown me, that human race has abundant love, despite all the crookedness and shallowness enveloping it. Kindly words and gestures, caring eyes and friendly smiles, not only give a message that you are not alone, but they virtually massage your mind and body in a more mysterious way, generating an inexplicable joy, thrill and adventure in life.
All of us are racing with time. We should all remember that we don’t have time, enough time for others. Everyone is busy in his or her own way. One thing is sure enough, if you don’t have enough time to spare now, definitely more time is not going to be there in future . And there is no guarantee that we are going to meet the same people , as we pass them only once or meet infrequently. If we don’t understand this, we shall be in trouble and we will be missing something with each individual whom we don’t handle or engage in a more meaningful and affectionate way.
First let us have engagement with ourselves. Have time / appointment with yourself. Love, chat and do chanting, as if you are a precious person. Look at your body, thought process, your way of doing work and so on. Let us be as sweet and polite with others as we want others to behave with us in the same vein.
All of us are racing with time. We should all remember that we don’t have time, enough time for others. Everyone is busy in his or her own way. One thing is sure enough, if you don’t have enough time to spare now, definitely more time is not going to be there in future . And there is no guarantee that we are going to meet the same people , as we pass them only once or meet infrequently. If we don’t understand this, we shall be in trouble and we will be missing something with each individual whom we don’t handle or engage in a more meaningful and affectionate way.
First let us have engagement with ourselves. Have time / appointment with yourself. Love, chat and do chanting, as if you are a precious person. Look at your body, thought process, your way of doing work and so on. Let us be as sweet and polite with others as we want others to behave with us in the same vein.
I met an Australian couple at Luxemburg Park and told-Let Black and White Co-Exist in Australia and Elsewhere.
When we visit big gardens or watch big monuments of great architectuatral value, we hardly ever bother to know the central figures behind their creation while climbing up. Eiffel Tower, it was refreshing to watch the engineer architects real man like figures kept for the visitors to see.
Luxemburg park and Garden at Versailles palace which I happened to see are few examples- to exemplify the hidden labor of infinite humans who must have contributed their lot for their creation. Like poets and gods, they are also creators. First time when I went to see the St.Michel Church and Luxemburg park I forgot to take the camera and I tried to keep the memories locked into my eye.
But the fact of the matter is that invariably as travelers and tourists, who are always in a hurry while moving around , we hardly spend time in peace and tranquility and enjoy the serene surroundings and have a full feel of the place we see. Rather we always want to capture those moments through camera, rather than locking them in to our memory through the camera of eye. This is what I also did, when I went for the second time, to capture the beautiful flowers and green grass carpeting the Earth. A girl in solitude and blissful despair, couples passionately kissing and forgetting their self and fusing into oneness , as if they are in divine union with the absolute, are few case studies I could disseminate while strolling in the park.
Many school children and another set of youth were all parading the ground in that chill weather, with slight drizzle which was also more pleasing, as it was drenched in good sunshine. The Australian couple whom I met earlier near a restaurant were there and we took photos in the park, reminding them that, the black and white should co-exist and Australia should learn how handle Indian students with care and concern and treat them well. I impressed upon the couple that, India was providing effective demand for colleges and universities and but for this, some of the academic corridors in Australia would be empty and it is high time better sense some judgment and wisdom prevailed on the policy makers and the general public at large. The hooligans causing the rampage must be kept under check .Lest; the good image of Australian people would be jeopardized.
At the time of posting this, disturbing news about the death of Indian student has drawn not only media attention but also the Foreign Minister of India. It is high time that India gave a stern message to Australia that Racists must be kept under check and in a globalized world; Australia needs Indian students for its growth, as Indians want Australian’s patronage and good will for their well being.
Luxemburg park and Garden at Versailles palace which I happened to see are few examples- to exemplify the hidden labor of infinite humans who must have contributed their lot for their creation. Like poets and gods, they are also creators. First time when I went to see the St.Michel Church and Luxemburg park I forgot to take the camera and I tried to keep the memories locked into my eye.
But the fact of the matter is that invariably as travelers and tourists, who are always in a hurry while moving around , we hardly spend time in peace and tranquility and enjoy the serene surroundings and have a full feel of the place we see. Rather we always want to capture those moments through camera, rather than locking them in to our memory through the camera of eye. This is what I also did, when I went for the second time, to capture the beautiful flowers and green grass carpeting the Earth. A girl in solitude and blissful despair, couples passionately kissing and forgetting their self and fusing into oneness , as if they are in divine union with the absolute, are few case studies I could disseminate while strolling in the park.
Many school children and another set of youth were all parading the ground in that chill weather, with slight drizzle which was also more pleasing, as it was drenched in good sunshine. The Australian couple whom I met earlier near a restaurant were there and we took photos in the park, reminding them that, the black and white should co-exist and Australia should learn how handle Indian students with care and concern and treat them well. I impressed upon the couple that, India was providing effective demand for colleges and universities and but for this, some of the academic corridors in Australia would be empty and it is high time better sense some judgment and wisdom prevailed on the policy makers and the general public at large. The hooligans causing the rampage must be kept under check .Lest; the good image of Australian people would be jeopardized.
At the time of posting this, disturbing news about the death of Indian student has drawn not only media attention but also the Foreign Minister of India. It is high time that India gave a stern message to Australia that Racists must be kept under check and in a globalized world; Australia needs Indian students for its growth, as Indians want Australian’s patronage and good will for their well being.
Ordeals on the way to Versailles-Rive-Gauche-A blessing in disguise
Travelers and tourists, in a sense are like foreign exchange traders active and always on wheels. While the former actually run in search of new places, based on information, the latter sit tightly before the computer and update their information and news on financial and economic variables impinging on exchange rate, interest rate and stock prices. They are also in a hurry, while moving around.
While going to famous Lourdh museum, or Versailles palace, at Paris there is no problem of identification as there is always a crowd in a train, moving towards that destination- I was amongst two Chinese doctors, an young German girl and two old Holland ladies . The train was supposed to go to Versailles in a particular direction.
But all of a sudden, the direction had been changed and the announcement was in French language. I don’t remember whether the same thing was told in German and English language. Somehow, we got the news and as a reflex action, got down at the next halt, Boulanvilliers.
We could not get the connecting train immediately to go the station nearby, Champ de Mars Tour Eiffel from which we were supposed to take another train going towards Versailles-Rive-Gauche. For the first time we had to wait for more than one hour, which was quite unusual. Perhaps some repair work was going on elsewhere or I was not sure what caused that impasse. There was more time to interact with others- When I asked the Chinese doctors about the field of their specialization, another Chinese girl, who was more like a translator / interpreter, good in both Chinese and French language, explained to me some thing by sheer body language. Glancing at the lady doctor, who was looking like a college girl, she was gesticulating with her hand moving/rolling over her belly two times, to convey the message that she was gynecologist.
While going to famous Lourdh museum, or Versailles palace, at Paris there is no problem of identification as there is always a crowd in a train, moving towards that destination- I was amongst two Chinese doctors, an young German girl and two old Holland ladies . The train was supposed to go to Versailles in a particular direction.
But all of a sudden, the direction had been changed and the announcement was in French language. I don’t remember whether the same thing was told in German and English language. Somehow, we got the news and as a reflex action, got down at the next halt, Boulanvilliers.
We could not get the connecting train immediately to go the station nearby, Champ de Mars Tour Eiffel from which we were supposed to take another train going towards Versailles-Rive-Gauche. For the first time we had to wait for more than one hour, which was quite unusual. Perhaps some repair work was going on elsewhere or I was not sure what caused that impasse. There was more time to interact with others- When I asked the Chinese doctors about the field of their specialization, another Chinese girl, who was more like a translator / interpreter, good in both Chinese and French language, explained to me some thing by sheer body language. Glancing at the lady doctor, who was looking like a college girl, she was gesticulating with her hand moving/rolling over her belly two times, to convey the message that she was gynecologist.
About the other doctor, who looked like an actor, she again she again showed by bodily gesture: Like a butcher cutting the parts of a goat on a platform with a knife, meaning that he was a surgeon. The way in which she acted, and articulated with all sense of humor conveyed a message to me that the Chinese were really enjoying the freedom of France , smelling the air of romance and they were all in a relaxed state. I don’t know to what degree they have the freedom of expression and enjoy democratic rights in their native soil and while practicing their medical profession. But their behavior was typically western and they must have craved for this kind of liberty in their heart while operating under politically suffocating environment of China.
The old ladies from Holland were in good spirits. It was a day of occasional drizzles. The Sun was playing hide and seek game. After a long wait we got the connecting train and then in a matter of less than 30 – 40 minutes, we were at the Versailles palace station
There is always a cordiality and unconditional friendship and warmth among Pakistani people and Indians, or for that matter between Chinese and Americans and others and our people. Then who creates Berlin Wall among them? At any point of time, the politicians do construct and deconstruct the enemy image about other nations. The U.S. has specialized in that art for long, dividing nations, intervening in others, in the name of containing terrorism or establishing democracy. China, with all the newly acquired image of upcoming super power, sitting on a Dollar mountain, wants to do its own mischief and extends all tacit support and strategic assistance to checkmate India. We shall deal with it later.
The old ladies from Holland were in good spirits. It was a day of occasional drizzles. The Sun was playing hide and seek game. After a long wait we got the connecting train and then in a matter of less than 30 – 40 minutes, we were at the Versailles palace station
There is always a cordiality and unconditional friendship and warmth among Pakistani people and Indians, or for that matter between Chinese and Americans and others and our people. Then who creates Berlin Wall among them? At any point of time, the politicians do construct and deconstruct the enemy image about other nations. The U.S. has specialized in that art for long, dividing nations, intervening in others, in the name of containing terrorism or establishing democracy. China, with all the newly acquired image of upcoming super power, sitting on a Dollar mountain, wants to do its own mischief and extends all tacit support and strategic assistance to checkmate India. We shall deal with it later.
Should Retirement put an end to your intellectual romance/madness?
The other day, I went for a morning walk, after many months. Going to beach early morning for a brisk walk and drink the fresh oxygen fully and feverishly would no doubt invigorate our health and keep us active all through the day. Despite my good knowledge about the benefits /profits of walking, I have hardly translated those attributes into a good habit. On that day I missed that walking beauty too, and the sky was overcast with cloud and hence no sight seeing of morning rising sun and ruminate over its infinite beauty, later.
But I could meet my old time friend leading now a peaceful retired life. He was senior to me in college, both as a student and later as a colleague, but belonging to different subject. Indeed I had forgotten that that he had sought voluntary retirement even before the retirement date arrived. I enquired about his health and his only daughter settled overseas .It was refreshing to talk and I could wander back to my college life and all the politics revolving around it. Then I put a question, a spontaneous one, having seen his academic side in the past: “Are you doing any project or active in reading the subject?”
Pat came the reply: “No more subject. I have just retired. That’s all. There are many more things to do now, I could not do earlier. I just relax, play cards and do some light reading,” he went on. This reminded me of one of my Pune professors saying to me when I was in the final leg of my PhD journey: “After retirement , no more H.O Theorem or Samuelson’s Factor Price Equalization Theorem. I would bundle them and keep it at a distance.”
Could Professors, who once upon a time, were academically active, turn into some other entity later, not at all related to the subject just because they are retired? I can understand people like Jayakanthan, taking a retreat in writing, after pouring down a torrential output for ages, which I am sure, many of us have not digested yet. But kindly remember, writers like him were not employed in any formal organization, and hence the question of official retirement was hardly present in their life. Being freelance writers, they must have suffered financially too, as writing at any point of time is not lucrative and certainly monetarily a non rewarding event.
But I have also come across people, senior and aged professors who have at times short term memory problems; one of whom I vividly remember clearly- the one who forget names as quickly as he hears them , sits before the computer in a remote village until 2 or 3 Am and browse through ‘Hot Economics’ , enjoying the intellectual fight between the Salt water and Fresh water economists debating on the causes of Global Financial Crisis and also the very crisis in Macro Economics itself. They can’t just delink from the subject although they officially retire from the institute. Tribes like Prof. Paul Samuelson, who breathed last recently, were active, until the end came. Recently Prof.Subramanya Swamy, his one time favorite student and later a co-author in writing a few papers, relating to index numbers,has recollected his past association and made a pertinent reference that Prof.Samuelson was active even at the ripe age of 90.
At 60, I feel that I have failed to do many things which I should have done . Perhaps, I have attempted to chew more than what I could digest. I too want to belong to a set which cannot delink from the chosen discipline, until the cosmos kiss us and take to a different world? I hope Prof. Ram Gopal of Annamalai University would give company to wade through the waters of intellectual madness and taste the elixir, called ‘Economics”. The sheer academic greed will keep people like us in good stead, and make us young and energetic. Retirement need not put an end to one’s intellectual madness.
But I could meet my old time friend leading now a peaceful retired life. He was senior to me in college, both as a student and later as a colleague, but belonging to different subject. Indeed I had forgotten that that he had sought voluntary retirement even before the retirement date arrived. I enquired about his health and his only daughter settled overseas .It was refreshing to talk and I could wander back to my college life and all the politics revolving around it. Then I put a question, a spontaneous one, having seen his academic side in the past: “Are you doing any project or active in reading the subject?”
Pat came the reply: “No more subject. I have just retired. That’s all. There are many more things to do now, I could not do earlier. I just relax, play cards and do some light reading,” he went on. This reminded me of one of my Pune professors saying to me when I was in the final leg of my PhD journey: “After retirement , no more H.O Theorem or Samuelson’s Factor Price Equalization Theorem. I would bundle them and keep it at a distance.”
Could Professors, who once upon a time, were academically active, turn into some other entity later, not at all related to the subject just because they are retired? I can understand people like Jayakanthan, taking a retreat in writing, after pouring down a torrential output for ages, which I am sure, many of us have not digested yet. But kindly remember, writers like him were not employed in any formal organization, and hence the question of official retirement was hardly present in their life. Being freelance writers, they must have suffered financially too, as writing at any point of time is not lucrative and certainly monetarily a non rewarding event.
But I have also come across people, senior and aged professors who have at times short term memory problems; one of whom I vividly remember clearly- the one who forget names as quickly as he hears them , sits before the computer in a remote village until 2 or 3 Am and browse through ‘Hot Economics’ , enjoying the intellectual fight between the Salt water and Fresh water economists debating on the causes of Global Financial Crisis and also the very crisis in Macro Economics itself. They can’t just delink from the subject although they officially retire from the institute. Tribes like Prof. Paul Samuelson, who breathed last recently, were active, until the end came. Recently Prof.Subramanya Swamy, his one time favorite student and later a co-author in writing a few papers, relating to index numbers,has recollected his past association and made a pertinent reference that Prof.Samuelson was active even at the ripe age of 90.
At 60, I feel that I have failed to do many things which I should have done . Perhaps, I have attempted to chew more than what I could digest. I too want to belong to a set which cannot delink from the chosen discipline, until the cosmos kiss us and take to a different world? I hope Prof. Ram Gopal of Annamalai University would give company to wade through the waters of intellectual madness and taste the elixir, called ‘Economics”. The sheer academic greed will keep people like us in good stead, and make us young and energetic. Retirement need not put an end to one’s intellectual madness.
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