A farewell party was held in the University Auditorium yesterday and despite vacation a respectable audience was present given the special occasion. A physics professor was given a farewell.He happened to be the first beneficiary of the retirement age being raised to 65 and whose record of 42 years of service I will outsmart, when I retire, God willing- living until the day of my retirement in 2013.
This meeting was special because it also marked the occasion of bidding a farewell to Prof.Balasubramanian, who adorned the chair of Culture and Cultural Relations with dignity, cultured behavior and also a measured mild aggression, always measuring his steps with tremendous strength of character.
As there were many representatives of different Associations to articulate their emotions, I did not want to make any intrusion into the list of speakers. I remained quite. That silence must have spoken volumes. That was one of the occasions where I must have given vent to my emotive feelings, given my intimacy of emotional relationship and special bond with him. It is not just me, but there are many in the campus who have got good chemistry with him during his brief but bright stay, indeed a fruitful stay for the inmates at the university campus. What I could not do or failed to do on the stage yesterday, let me attempt now to recapture all the fire and flavor, all the love and care that I have locked about him into my heart all along.
Very rarely a University stumbles upon great personalities of a greater vision and equally a nobler vision, a kind of constellation of planets and stars to undertake the difficult task of creative destruction and thus add more tangible, more visible physical and technological capital stock, to the university environment.
In a silent and subtle way, Prof.Balasubramanian from Mysore University, of Tamilnadu origin and profound intellectual training, had remarkably played a full supportive role with unadulterated love and devotion to the Boss and acted as a buffer between the Administration and the rest of the population here in the Kalapet Campus.
Nothing can make any man great or good, unless Nature has made him to endure all the hardship on the Way. Indeed this is the express way to the leadership which makes a few leaders to endear themselves to a broader audience.
The most pleasantest thing and the greatest thing that I have ever noticed about this young Professor is his extreme humility borne out of an extraordinary scholarship and of course good, strong parental genes. He could touch a broader humanity here and also elsewhere very nearly, most intimately and more affectionately because of his innate nature, truly reflecting and respecting the very goodness of the nature and Universe :small wonder then he was bound to do good to his fellow human beings and also bear with them .
Did the sun or moon, the wind or rain , the wild animals or tender plants ever complain about their grievances? Never. He too did not complain or grumble or sink himself in any despair when happenings in life are beyond control and comprehension. He gave more than what he received from others. He received only in moderate doses what the Nature willed him to receive and he acted in full faith what the Nature dictated to him to do, as his path was clearly defined by the Supreme.
On this day, when I sit in the balcony, enjoying the cool breeze clothing me , I ruminate and reflect upon the rapidity with which the Pondicherry university profile, the mosaic of its infrastructure and in essence,the very academic ambience have been transformed. They just came into existence as if by a sheer magic, swept past us in the last three years and we are still carried away by that fragrance and flavor thanks to the twins, Prof.J.A.K.Tareen, my Vice-Chancellor and his deputy, the young energetic Blackman from south, a gift he had brought from Mysore, as I had told once on the stage. A gift cannot be taken away once it is given. Yes. Prof.Balasubramanian, the Director who added more substance and strength to the post in all possible ways cannot be taken away from the academically and spiritually rich soil of Puducherry. Wherever he is, his heart and soul will be connected with the welfare of this growing institution. All of us have come here to perform a particular task and to play a particular role in the drama of our life. As CEO of our University rightly observed yesterday, the divine will always entrust some responsibility to right individual at right time and no one can stop that nobler intention of Nature because it is more supreme.
There is always a mutual dependence on each other in life and if only all the infinite labor of many could be translated into concrete real work, without embarking on any ego centric journey, what a richer , stronger and pleasant life could be for everyone in this world .It is sheer pleasant accident or good fortune that Prof.J.A.K.Tareen’s Effect, combined with Prof.Bala’s fragrance, ably assisted by the other supportive pillars of administrative machinery, viz the Registrar and the Finance Officer, all have spurred a variety of events , especially on the threshold of Silver jubilee year celebration of university and thereafter. In a typical butterfly chaos theory fashion, all these will set in motion a chain of favorable outcome in the years to come, provided there is somebody at a future, who will play an anchor role so as to consolidate the gains. That will happen only when economics and philosophy are allowed to operate and all kinds of destructive politics and divisive tendencies are dumped to the dustbin.
Following the author of Tamil Kural, Thirukkural, I would say that all of us pass this way only once. Our days are numbered here. Therefore our steps must be always measured. There is no guarantee that tomorrow is ours. Therefore, if there is something good to be done or little kindness to be shown, let us do it now in the immediate present. We shall not abandon our true nature to be good at heart and render all possible good to others with tremendous sense of humor and strength of character. We will always keep a straight course and never renounce our right to say ‘No’ if that is to be said.
Prof.Balasubramanian will always remain his own master, and he will not hesitate to continue doing good regardless of comments or criticism and none shall hinder his path defined by nature. He will choose to live the life that he wants to live like you and me. What nature will enjoin him, nobody can take it away.
To capture his personality and sum up in a sentence let me quote Homer’s Poetic line “Never a harsh word, never an injustice to single person.” I have known from great philosophers that the purpose of our creation is not to lie here under the warm blanket and keep ourselves in comfort zone, seeking pleasure and not making any effort to help others, deluding ourselves into self importance. Marcus Aurilous asks us to “look at the plants, ants, sparrows, bees all busy at their own task each doing its part towards a coherent world order.”Prof.Balasubramanian has been a part of this activist group.
Have we already joined him in creating a new academic order, busying ourselves in our own work? Before I conclude I must thank the Vice-Chancellor, Prof.J.A.K.Tareen who incidentally happens to be his mentor, guide and philosopher in shaping him and also providing him with all the honors that he rightly deserves.
It is my good fortune that on the day of farewell which only marks his temporary retreat from Pondicherry University, I had the opportunity to read out the text in Tamil about Pondicherry University prepared by him on All India Radio with all fervor and sensitivities .My 100th post in the blog as also this posting have a special stamp of my natural way of articulation, underlying my philosophy of life.
Yesterday I intended to write in Tamil and the providence has ordained me to write in a language where I am comfortable and more important, it will have a wider reach. Let the supreme take Prof.Bala to greater academic heights by his sheer academic track record and merit card, simultaneously enjoying a reasonable good health, with all smiles on his face always.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Aren’t you afraid to sleep alone? One should sleep to dream
Akshaya is becoming a
Grown up girl,
Observing each event carefully
The other girl too is showing
Her love with all playfulness.
“Aren’t you afraid to sleep alone, Grandpa?
Come home for food in the evening
When will grandma come?”
And so on are only the
Few questions she could ask
With all her
While keeping many
Closer to her heart.
With my shoulder pain,
And troubled state of mind,
Many a time,
I am not able to engage her
In a manner, I would like to do
A great deal of tiredness is
Ruling over my mind and body
With all pain on right shoulder
I don’t know why
I write all these lines?
For whom? For my own release?
For my grand children in their
Old age! Or for the outside
World audience…
Honestly I don’t know?
Can’t I show a fraction of?
This kind of labor for
My grand children
Spend time with them, engage them
Play, joke, sing and dance with them
This is what Prof.Thangappa
Has done
A great Tamil scholar whom I admire
A professor who is proficient in English too
Morning walk is still irregular.
I must not lose my hopes.
Have not Lankan Tamils, at least
Still a sizable number
Survived to face further humiliations
Living amidst dead bodies,
Deprived of all basic necessities
They still live, with all their
Hopes desires, dreams, and
Of course anger.
They can lose everything in life,
Except this righteous anger,
At a distant future,
This sensible and responsible
Anger will deliver the goods
A benevolent God will not emerge
To guarantee their Homeland
Dreamland,
At least in their dreams
But to dream, one should sleep.
Grown up girl,
Observing each event carefully
The other girl too is showing
Her love with all playfulness.
“Aren’t you afraid to sleep alone, Grandpa?
Come home for food in the evening
When will grandma come?”
And so on are only the
Few questions she could ask
With all her
While keeping many
Closer to her heart.
With my shoulder pain,
And troubled state of mind,
Many a time,
I am not able to engage her
In a manner, I would like to do
A great deal of tiredness is
Ruling over my mind and body
With all pain on right shoulder
I don’t know why
I write all these lines?
For whom? For my own release?
For my grand children in their
Old age! Or for the outside
World audience…
Honestly I don’t know?
Can’t I show a fraction of?
This kind of labor for
My grand children
Spend time with them, engage them
Play, joke, sing and dance with them
This is what Prof.Thangappa
Has done
A great Tamil scholar whom I admire
A professor who is proficient in English too
Morning walk is still irregular.
I must not lose my hopes.
Have not Lankan Tamils, at least
Still a sizable number
Survived to face further humiliations
Living amidst dead bodies,
Deprived of all basic necessities
They still live, with all their
Hopes desires, dreams, and
Of course anger.
They can lose everything in life,
Except this righteous anger,
At a distant future,
This sensible and responsible
Anger will deliver the goods
A benevolent God will not emerge
To guarantee their Homeland
Dreamland,
At least in their dreams
But to dream, one should sleep.
It is not just her problem but all our problem too
A short story in Tamil Weekly
Read recently narrates about
The unsatisfied sexual side of a lady executive
An young, educated executive girl
Already in love and engaged
With an equally attractive
Well positioned gentleman,
Gets attracted by a well built male
In London, on an official trip.
Like any typical, normal male,
Who is carried away by an fleeting beauty
She is also driven by lust and
Restlessness towards him,
But gets insulated from the trap of life,
By sheer abuse and ill treat of him
All pretended to conceal her shiver
For, after all he is an escort.
The attender in uniform
Now clad in an attractive T-Shirt
Reveals his nobility and
Her meanness of mind
By articulating the naked truth thus:
He has lived with many,
Obeying his professional ethics,
But did not dare to love anyone.
He has learnt his limits,
Measured his steps,
At each moment of professional life.
He tells her existential dilemma:
If only she had been a foreign girl
Or someone,
She would have had sex with him
And abandoned him thereafter,
Pushing him out of her mind
Before reuniting with her own lover
He exposes her helplessness,
Unfulfilled desire driven despair, anger
And at the end more
Humiliation, and dislike for herself
This is not merely her problem,
But the problem of all,
Any morally conscious fellowLiving under self imposed discipline
Read recently narrates about
The unsatisfied sexual side of a lady executive
An young, educated executive girl
Already in love and engaged
With an equally attractive
Well positioned gentleman,
Gets attracted by a well built male
In London, on an official trip.
Like any typical, normal male,
Who is carried away by an fleeting beauty
She is also driven by lust and
Restlessness towards him,
But gets insulated from the trap of life,
By sheer abuse and ill treat of him
All pretended to conceal her shiver
For, after all he is an escort.
The attender in uniform
Now clad in an attractive T-Shirt
Reveals his nobility and
Her meanness of mind
By articulating the naked truth thus:
He has lived with many,
Obeying his professional ethics,
But did not dare to love anyone.
He has learnt his limits,
Measured his steps,
At each moment of professional life.
He tells her existential dilemma:
If only she had been a foreign girl
Or someone,
She would have had sex with him
And abandoned him thereafter,
Pushing him out of her mind
Before reuniting with her own lover
He exposes her helplessness,
Unfulfilled desire driven despair, anger
And at the end more
Humiliation, and dislike for herself
This is not merely her problem,
But the problem of all,
Any morally conscious fellowLiving under self imposed discipline
Love and Friendship lingers even after a baby, on the beach road
She is a girl of immediate neighborhood variety
The youngest daughter in the family of two children.
A small, cute, real girl.
While studying in the college,
She entangled herself into an affair
Delinked from family,
A sort of estrangement followed
Got married, gave birth to a baby…
All these I came to know later.
When her eldest sister got married,
This young couple, estranged from family
Got reunited with the family
By sheer benevolent accident
Today I saw that couple,
Along with the baby
Crisscrossing the beach road,
Early morning,
To me, showcasing demonstrable evidence
There is still more love, fun and friendship
Care and concern amongst themselves,
Even after marriage and giving birth to baby
To retain that spirit for ever,
I prayed to Lord
To bless them from above.
The youngest daughter in the family of two children.
A small, cute, real girl.
While studying in the college,
She entangled herself into an affair
Delinked from family,
A sort of estrangement followed
Got married, gave birth to a baby…
All these I came to know later.
When her eldest sister got married,
This young couple, estranged from family
Got reunited with the family
By sheer benevolent accident
Today I saw that couple,
Along with the baby
Crisscrossing the beach road,
Early morning,
To me, showcasing demonstrable evidence
There is still more love, fun and friendship
Care and concern amongst themselves,
Even after marriage and giving birth to baby
To retain that spirit for ever,
I prayed to Lord
To bless them from above.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Ruminating at Mid 50’s: Tasting the Flavor of Suffering
Today, 22nd February 2005
I have arrived at mid 50s
A mild tremor, a welcome discomfort
A right signal to notice the inevitable
Ageing process, a natural consequence of biological clock
I can’t avoid, but truly must internalize
And definitely slow it down,
By working out sensibly and more responsibly
Weeding out anxious thoughts, and of course all kinds of worries
Why I am starved of minimum peace?
Is it sister’s pain and agony?
Why did the cruel hand of
Destiny distance us,
Built fences around us
Like erstwhile Berlin Wall
Into infinite ways
Inexplicable relational attributes attitudes
Misplaced ego and wrong understanding
Affect me, upset me,
Dislodge my peace,
Enhance my anxiety.
I should moderate and slowdown.
For so long, she was never
In the frame nor in the
Picture of things dreamt
At the time of reconciliation
There’s a nature’s retribution.
The mild full cry of my
Better half over phone last night
Is only a sample of
Our collective suffering,
Which in essence a sample
Of the sufferings of broader world around us
With all hatred, vengeance,
Anger, bitterness, and all kinds
Of outrageous behavior,
Really uncivilized behavior
Among relatives and friends
There’s always love,
Tenderness, sympathy,
A minimum concern
For the relational links.
For how long, she will live and suffer
Or suffer to live and to recover,
To reinvent herself for a
Different and better life?
I do not know
A character born late,
With color, texture and
Bundle of laziness and comfort
Loaded with misplaced jealousy
Borne out of ignorance
Enjoying food,
And also work in later period of life
Thanks to an enterprising life partner
Is now tossed up in bed
Coiled up in agony and anger
Food and taste buds have
Become distant relatives.
Anything can strike any one
Like a bolt from the blue
The deadly disease
Has struck
The intelligent and stupid
The hardworking and lazy
Have all become a prey
For that dreadful disease, of cancer
The diagnosis and the cure
Are not just the acts of God
A direct and straight intervention from their domain
Why does it arrive
Without notice or warning?
Will she face it with Stoic Smile?
Or welled up eyes?
Whatever will happen,
Happen,
Let there not be more
Pain, more bitterness.
Murugan’s narration of
Sixty five year old lady surviving
With the disease
By sheer faith, beyond the power of
Medicine and therapy
Is indeed an amazing story
A fairy like event.
This unique event may not be
Replicated, reenacted?
But definitely release more
Strength energy to face
Events in life.
What can’t be cured must be
Endured
We must all learn how
To taste the flavor of suffering.
(From My Dateless Dairy)
I have arrived at mid 50s
A mild tremor, a welcome discomfort
A right signal to notice the inevitable
Ageing process, a natural consequence of biological clock
I can’t avoid, but truly must internalize
And definitely slow it down,
By working out sensibly and more responsibly
Weeding out anxious thoughts, and of course all kinds of worries
Why I am starved of minimum peace?
Is it sister’s pain and agony?
Why did the cruel hand of
Destiny distance us,
Built fences around us
Like erstwhile Berlin Wall
Into infinite ways
Inexplicable relational attributes attitudes
Misplaced ego and wrong understanding
Affect me, upset me,
Dislodge my peace,
Enhance my anxiety.
I should moderate and slowdown.
For so long, she was never
In the frame nor in the
Picture of things dreamt
At the time of reconciliation
There’s a nature’s retribution.
The mild full cry of my
Better half over phone last night
Is only a sample of
Our collective suffering,
Which in essence a sample
Of the sufferings of broader world around us
With all hatred, vengeance,
Anger, bitterness, and all kinds
Of outrageous behavior,
Really uncivilized behavior
Among relatives and friends
There’s always love,
Tenderness, sympathy,
A minimum concern
For the relational links.
For how long, she will live and suffer
Or suffer to live and to recover,
To reinvent herself for a
Different and better life?
I do not know
A character born late,
With color, texture and
Bundle of laziness and comfort
Loaded with misplaced jealousy
Borne out of ignorance
Enjoying food,
And also work in later period of life
Thanks to an enterprising life partner
Is now tossed up in bed
Coiled up in agony and anger
Food and taste buds have
Become distant relatives.
Anything can strike any one
Like a bolt from the blue
The deadly disease
Has struck
The intelligent and stupid
The hardworking and lazy
Have all become a prey
For that dreadful disease, of cancer
The diagnosis and the cure
Are not just the acts of God
A direct and straight intervention from their domain
Why does it arrive
Without notice or warning?
Will she face it with Stoic Smile?
Or welled up eyes?
Whatever will happen,
Happen,
Let there not be more
Pain, more bitterness.
Murugan’s narration of
Sixty five year old lady surviving
With the disease
By sheer faith, beyond the power of
Medicine and therapy
Is indeed an amazing story
A fairy like event.
This unique event may not be
Replicated, reenacted?
But definitely release more
Strength energy to face
Events in life.
What can’t be cured must be
Endured
We must all learn how
To taste the flavor of suffering.
My Parent’s life by itself was an education to me
“Education is the way
To escape the life of coal mines”
I read once.
Yes, access to education and good parents always
Insulates one from hard manual labor
My illiterate parents
Labored hard for more than two decades
Near the fire place,
Breathing work ethics, and
Practicing an incredible commercial honesty
Result:
Till the end, they lived in a hut,
Fully cheerful and sacrificing all comforts and conveniences of life
In order that I will have more
Access to higher education, and
The resultant elevation in my life.
The spirit of compassion to the poor
The grit and courage to fight against injustice
All came in an effortless way
By watching their behavior.
Their life itself was a great education
The vital lesson they taught me was:
Honesty and self respect are more important
Then anything else in the world. And
Aspiring for power, pelf, titles and designations
Can always wait and be relegated to
The back seat.
Teaching of Economics is
Of course my core competence,
The current management buzzword now,
Which has been further polished/ refixed by
Silken touch with my subject.
More than three decades old containing romance
With my discipline,
Has displined me further, and made me
More tougher and stronger in sprit.
To escape the life of coal mines”
I read once.
Yes, access to education and good parents always
Insulates one from hard manual labor
My illiterate parents
Labored hard for more than two decades
Near the fire place,
Breathing work ethics, and
Practicing an incredible commercial honesty
Result:
Till the end, they lived in a hut,
Fully cheerful and sacrificing all comforts and conveniences of life
In order that I will have more
Access to higher education, and
The resultant elevation in my life.
The spirit of compassion to the poor
The grit and courage to fight against injustice
All came in an effortless way
By watching their behavior.
Their life itself was a great education
The vital lesson they taught me was:
Honesty and self respect are more important
Then anything else in the world. And
Aspiring for power, pelf, titles and designations
Can always wait and be relegated to
The back seat.
Teaching of Economics is
Of course my core competence,
The current management buzzword now,
Which has been further polished/ refixed by
Silken touch with my subject.
More than three decades old containing romance
With my discipline,
Has displined me further, and made me
More tougher and stronger in sprit.
The brighter side of a girl: As a strange fire she adds more color to life
When I move away from her a little,
It becomes very hot, but then,
By just coming closer to her,
It’s just cool and heavenly.
Oh! Where did she get (discover)
This strange fire? (kural)
Many years ago, I did this translation. Thereafter, I was tempted to describe the infinite variety of a girl/woman, mostly touching her bright/ beautiful side:
A girl is always a wonderful phenomenon
At any stage of the evolution of society
Basically tender, gentle, warm and kind hearted
More cultured and harmoniously developed and shaped
Delicately structured like a framed picture
Full of love, life, compassion and friendship,
Not merely physical or sexual/sensual in appeal
And outlook, making you crazy
To go wild and lose your carefully crafted balance
She is also more meaningfully intellectual,
Intuitive and intellectually more inventive,
Just immensely beautiful and marvelous.
Lifting your nobler and also meaner Spirits (beastly)
Simultaneously and successfully
Effectively biologically strong
All the abundant energy
And intelligence built in that slender frame,
As tender as the creeping plant
To play a larger role in assisting
The broader world of humanity
To perpetuate its race,
And add color, romance and festivity
To the insipid life.
It becomes very hot, but then,
By just coming closer to her,
It’s just cool and heavenly.
Oh! Where did she get (discover)
This strange fire? (kural)
Many years ago, I did this translation. Thereafter, I was tempted to describe the infinite variety of a girl/woman, mostly touching her bright/ beautiful side:
A girl is always a wonderful phenomenon
At any stage of the evolution of society
Basically tender, gentle, warm and kind hearted
More cultured and harmoniously developed and shaped
Delicately structured like a framed picture
Full of love, life, compassion and friendship,
Not merely physical or sexual/sensual in appeal
And outlook, making you crazy
To go wild and lose your carefully crafted balance
She is also more meaningfully intellectual,
Intuitive and intellectually more inventive,
Just immensely beautiful and marvelous.
Lifting your nobler and also meaner Spirits (beastly)
Simultaneously and successfully
Effectively biologically strong
All the abundant energy
And intelligence built in that slender frame,
As tender as the creeping plant
To play a larger role in assisting
The broader world of humanity
To perpetuate its race,
And add color, romance and festivity
To the insipid life.
“Managed Academic gang rape by violence in Teaching”
Profoundly irritated by the cumulative
Underserved neglect and academic betrayal
By sheer systemic chaos
Dominated and frustrated by a feeblest creature
Wearing an uniform of venality, crime,
Heightened academic stupidity and sterility,
All stemming from ‘authority’ and power
Of that exalted office in concrete corridors
I sought refugee in work,
Not only to get energized by it
But also to release my boundless energy
To show case my audience
“Who I am?”
It was a sort of an inexplicable depression
And seeking a shoulder to cry on was in vain,
As there was no one worthwhile and credible
Mine was a clear, savage violence in
Teaching in that semester
Ensuing that academic gang rape
By falling in love with Paul krugman’s
New text book international economics
That romance, that thunder shower in the class room
Calmed and cooled my nerves
Suddenly I found myself elevated to a
Higher academic/spiritual plane
On a high level of meditation.
To repeat, neither the love of solitude
Nor, the secret prayer to God
Showered me peace and bliss
But only violence in teaching and writing
Showed me the rainbow of joy.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Meeting of my Childhood Friend made me to rewind-Life is what you make it, and value is the only wealth
My childhood friend has just returned from Apollo hospital, Chennai after undergoing a thorough checkup for the persistent heaviness and uneasiness in stomach. For quite sometime he had been experiencing irritability, Nausea, vomiting and heightened tendency towards dislike for food.
All these were clear pointers that there is something wrong with that vital organ of the body which has its own moods. To rule out the possibility of psychological stress, he was also counseled during his brief stay there. No serious flaw could be diagnosed. Among many others, the significant change in his life was to move away from his house in the main town which was dismantled and settle down in a nearby place, where a recently constructed new house was already ready for occupation.
Even before he had shifted his house from main town to the suburb, my frequency of visit to his place had declined. For this, I cannot have any rational explanation. It just happened. Perhaps I didn’t want to burden him with my problems as I had done in the distant past. Moreover each has his own life to live amidst all kinds of chaos and pleasant events. In the last four years my administrative positions and the seriousness with which I took it as also the conditions at home hardly made me to think about my close friends although they are closer geographically. This is one kind of absurdity in life. We hardly realize the value of Social Capital.
The day after his arrival from hospital, I visited his new house and spent some time, more than two hours along with another friend who also studied with us since First standard. In our younger days given the proximity of my house and of course the chemistry, I was the closest and nearest to him. But in the later part of the adolescence, I was away from my region and parents most of the time and the other friend provided all emotional support and warmth, but for which he would not have studied Law and evolved as a good advocate, practicing ethics. Furthermore they had spiritual orientation, a common bond to connect which I could not internalize despite influenced by them for a short while.
We reassured him that unmindful of any residual physical problem, he must feel mentally free from any kind of worry arising out of any real or imagined problems. We recollected and ruminated over many things. While we were absorbed in conversation, his mind was effortlessly focused on us and not on the problem or ailment which had been afflicting him for quite sometime. He felt immense relief I could see. Indeed he did not have any trace of pain excepting the belching which was trying to reveal itself. Two days after, while speaking over phone, he breathed the air of hope and optimism, as he felt relaxed.
In our circle of friends comprising of Four, the other individual is well settled at Chennai. Of all the four I was the only one who used to always ventilate all the problems and the rest of them had the balance and fortune to be matured with their complaints. I didn’t have that maturity. With the ageing process I continue to pour out atleaast to a select few. I don’t know whether that virtue or vice has saved me from my emotional turmoil, given rampant chaos in the campus politics as also the welcome storms and thunder showers including occassioanl pleaseant drizzles at home . My two grand daughters have lightened my burden and anchored me well. They are attentive, demanding and talkative, more important fluent in Tamil.
Instead of bottling up all the pressures and accumulating them, I had always allowed them to wander through the casket and I didn’t find myself into any pressure cooker type of situation. Even now at sixty plus I have not changed my style of functioning .The greatest treasure I have earned is that, I am always blanketed by a protective suit of good will of student community, not just in the campus, but spread all over the world. Perhaps this simple, natural connectedness with others, my emotional involvement and commitment to address the problems of others, regardless of whether I could find solution or not have made me to forget my problems . But in the process I have not streamlined both my academic and administrative matters .They weigh me down and cause wrinkles on mind, unnecessarily. I know, I must be worried and address the problem and not get anxious. I have already become pro active and positive in sorting out my pending administrative issues.
I know if the call comes from above and many pending administrative matters do remain unsolved then I may have my own uneasiness at that time .But I am confident, some good souls would take care of my residual issues and sort out the matter. There is some optimistic faith in the goodness of the Universe not withstanding all round deterioration in all walks of life: the wise and benevolent destiny can’t just abandon its shadow.
All our problems arise out of stress caused by a host of factors; a few of them at least are like ghosts which do not really exist. I have understood from my little experience that money does not buy happiness. Affluence, like poverty also has its own train of suffering. But there are quite a few, who have struck a delicate, favorable, balance between material living and peaceful co-existence in family. We shall salute them for their smartness.
The current flat world of Thomas.L.Friedman, Alan Greenspan’s world of stock market socialism , made possible by low interest rate regime and faith in self regulation of banking and financial institutions for long and our own Manmohan’s shining India, but shrewdly not advertised like erstwhile BJP, will not and cannot provide emotional security and peace. Family, comprising of individuals with all their egos, gross misunderstanding, refusal to listen to others, the perennial tendency to accumulate all kinds of riches by all fraudulent means under the Sun and so on must be replaced by honest prayers and begging by all stake holders at home, to buy peace by practicing love , and also seeing virtues in frugal living and high thinking.
Warren Buffet’s son preaching values as wealth in his new book, “ Life is what you make it: Finding your own path to fulfillment,” merited my attention very recently, rather accidentally, coinciding with my line of thought. I feel proud and humble, like this great son, I am also being lost, but trying to find myself as a person and also as a student in economics.
Buffet, 52, teaches the rewards of self respect and pursuing one’s own passions and accomplishments rather than burying into society’s concepts of material wealth.
He says :
“I am my own person and I know what I have accomplished in my life…. This is not about wealth or fame or money or any of that stuff, it is actually about values and what you enjoy and finding something you love doing.”
All these were clear pointers that there is something wrong with that vital organ of the body which has its own moods. To rule out the possibility of psychological stress, he was also counseled during his brief stay there. No serious flaw could be diagnosed. Among many others, the significant change in his life was to move away from his house in the main town which was dismantled and settle down in a nearby place, where a recently constructed new house was already ready for occupation.
Even before he had shifted his house from main town to the suburb, my frequency of visit to his place had declined. For this, I cannot have any rational explanation. It just happened. Perhaps I didn’t want to burden him with my problems as I had done in the distant past. Moreover each has his own life to live amidst all kinds of chaos and pleasant events. In the last four years my administrative positions and the seriousness with which I took it as also the conditions at home hardly made me to think about my close friends although they are closer geographically. This is one kind of absurdity in life. We hardly realize the value of Social Capital.
The day after his arrival from hospital, I visited his new house and spent some time, more than two hours along with another friend who also studied with us since First standard. In our younger days given the proximity of my house and of course the chemistry, I was the closest and nearest to him. But in the later part of the adolescence, I was away from my region and parents most of the time and the other friend provided all emotional support and warmth, but for which he would not have studied Law and evolved as a good advocate, practicing ethics. Furthermore they had spiritual orientation, a common bond to connect which I could not internalize despite influenced by them for a short while.
We reassured him that unmindful of any residual physical problem, he must feel mentally free from any kind of worry arising out of any real or imagined problems. We recollected and ruminated over many things. While we were absorbed in conversation, his mind was effortlessly focused on us and not on the problem or ailment which had been afflicting him for quite sometime. He felt immense relief I could see. Indeed he did not have any trace of pain excepting the belching which was trying to reveal itself. Two days after, while speaking over phone, he breathed the air of hope and optimism, as he felt relaxed.
In our circle of friends comprising of Four, the other individual is well settled at Chennai. Of all the four I was the only one who used to always ventilate all the problems and the rest of them had the balance and fortune to be matured with their complaints. I didn’t have that maturity. With the ageing process I continue to pour out atleaast to a select few. I don’t know whether that virtue or vice has saved me from my emotional turmoil, given rampant chaos in the campus politics as also the welcome storms and thunder showers including occassioanl pleaseant drizzles at home . My two grand daughters have lightened my burden and anchored me well. They are attentive, demanding and talkative, more important fluent in Tamil.
Instead of bottling up all the pressures and accumulating them, I had always allowed them to wander through the casket and I didn’t find myself into any pressure cooker type of situation. Even now at sixty plus I have not changed my style of functioning .The greatest treasure I have earned is that, I am always blanketed by a protective suit of good will of student community, not just in the campus, but spread all over the world. Perhaps this simple, natural connectedness with others, my emotional involvement and commitment to address the problems of others, regardless of whether I could find solution or not have made me to forget my problems . But in the process I have not streamlined both my academic and administrative matters .They weigh me down and cause wrinkles on mind, unnecessarily. I know, I must be worried and address the problem and not get anxious. I have already become pro active and positive in sorting out my pending administrative issues.
I know if the call comes from above and many pending administrative matters do remain unsolved then I may have my own uneasiness at that time .But I am confident, some good souls would take care of my residual issues and sort out the matter. There is some optimistic faith in the goodness of the Universe not withstanding all round deterioration in all walks of life: the wise and benevolent destiny can’t just abandon its shadow.
All our problems arise out of stress caused by a host of factors; a few of them at least are like ghosts which do not really exist. I have understood from my little experience that money does not buy happiness. Affluence, like poverty also has its own train of suffering. But there are quite a few, who have struck a delicate, favorable, balance between material living and peaceful co-existence in family. We shall salute them for their smartness.
The current flat world of Thomas.L.Friedman, Alan Greenspan’s world of stock market socialism , made possible by low interest rate regime and faith in self regulation of banking and financial institutions for long and our own Manmohan’s shining India, but shrewdly not advertised like erstwhile BJP, will not and cannot provide emotional security and peace. Family, comprising of individuals with all their egos, gross misunderstanding, refusal to listen to others, the perennial tendency to accumulate all kinds of riches by all fraudulent means under the Sun and so on must be replaced by honest prayers and begging by all stake holders at home, to buy peace by practicing love , and also seeing virtues in frugal living and high thinking.
Warren Buffet’s son preaching values as wealth in his new book, “ Life is what you make it: Finding your own path to fulfillment,” merited my attention very recently, rather accidentally, coinciding with my line of thought. I feel proud and humble, like this great son, I am also being lost, but trying to find myself as a person and also as a student in economics.
Buffet, 52, teaches the rewards of self respect and pursuing one’s own passions and accomplishments rather than burying into society’s concepts of material wealth.
He says :
“I am my own person and I know what I have accomplished in my life…. This is not about wealth or fame or money or any of that stuff, it is actually about values and what you enjoy and finding something you love doing.”
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
I am not Anne Frank or Marcus Aurelius, and yet I will articulate on “My Meditations”
This (2009) year marks the tricentenary occasion of Ananda Ranga Pillai diary. Ananda Ranga Pillai is famous for writing his dairy, documenting the history of French Pondicherry, as a senior dubash to Duplex.He became more famous , more than the Governor himself . Such is the power of writing. Kindly remember what he wrote, remained in a dormant state for long and indeed he and the region are fortunate enough to see those writings get a favor and repute. Destiny has preserved them while in most cases, the personal writings of many have gone unnoticed and unremembered.
The diary of Anne Frank was very famous. While facing death, she joked in her diary and dreamt of life after war. Diary was her only companion, a best friend, to let her imagination run free. Even while facing all the absurdities and cruilieties of life she never lost the capacity to believe, to hope and dream.
Like many great souls, she died young and lived life to the fullest, without much grumbling. She eventually died in Hitler’s camp. Her classic statement, “I still believe
inspite of everything that people are truly good at heart.” must remind all of us that even in the face of all adversities and atrocities, we must not lose faith in the goodness of the universe. Talking personally,, in the last two and half months, I have been tossed by two officers in Pondicherry to forward just one letter to get my Provident Fund amount. The supreme power alone will know, when a minimum law and order will prevail in all Govermnet offices of India. Thank God, I only I only died in my daughter’s dream and I have not committed suicide unable and unwilling to tolerate the rape.
All through my life , if I had written all the events I had encountered, both academic and personal, it would have given more solace and comfort to me.
Many letters I wrote to my young and beautiful wife in the early years of my teaching life-the first ten years or fifteen years, during which I was continually separated either for her pregnancy or my studies. She preserved them for a long period until 1985. By cruel and wicked fate, somehow I lost that treasure, as they were destroyed by her because of my stupid statement that they are worth publishing under the title: “Letters from a husband, even while they were not responded.” Perhaps like Newton’s papers,they also received their dues this way. If only those letters are now alive they would reveal and remind the glorious past spent in innocence and laughter and more important, how much I loved her as I do now, seeing the eternal beauty of the ageing wife, unmindful of her frustrations and irritations with me which will not vanish into thin air.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
I died yesterday………………In my daughter’s Dream
For the past fortnight, I have been heavily weighed down by a variety of official engagements, which inevitably produced more stress and fatigue on my body and mind. I didn’t miss the golden opportunity to translate that stress into poetic prose. There was no time to stand and stare at beauty or just remain quiet. The only relaxation was seeing Gautham’s Tamil movie “Will you come across the sky?” starring Shimbu and Trisha in a piecemeal way in the cable T.V.
Every individual has his own story of love and death. In the face of heavy pressure of work I could not even visit JIPMER hospital today for getting a medical opinion on the report taken last year. What purpose that would serve now, I don’t know. I must go for a second checkup.
Tanduri Chicken and Biryani bought at a good restaurant recently opened in Puducherry was relished by all, especially the youngest one, in the company of my second grand daughter. Both of them have a good appetite for junk food which is tasty but not trustworthy from health point of view.
While eating and enjoying, I was feeling tired and I could not help telling my youngest daughter that there was some mild discomfort but I did not stop eating. Perhaps her concern about my health must have unconsciously sent signal to the molecules of her brain and made me die in her dream. It was just jolt for her to realize that I was no more and undertaking a journey to outer planets in some solar system without seeing her settled in life. She was thoroughly shaken in her dream and cried profusely, giving company to her mother, who had always told she would never cry when I die and remain bold.
What was the positive fallout of the dream? I got Dosa and Coffee, preparedly nicely by the youngest one, who usually shuns the kitchen. The kind of care that she bestowed upon me today, especially the day after my death in the dream I cannot forget in my life. Nor can I capture them in words. I know, for a longer time I have been harsh with her but there has been always a hidden love, an inexplicable concern and a tremendous anxiety towards her, especially in dreaming about the right kind of boy, given her assertive and dominat personality with all wild dreams and some societal concern..
I missed the University bus. While waiting for the private bus I allowed my imagination to wander and ruminate more on death. There was a time when I felt that I should not die and at some other times, soaked and fully drenched by sorrow and pain , I prayed for quick and graceful exit. I think all of us must have gone through this kind of phases in life .
Once the game is over, both the King and Pawn go to the same box. Where shall we go in the spirit form, I don’t know. But I am sure death will put an end to all our suffering and yet we don’t want to die, thinking that death will be more painful and there is complete uncertainity of Keynesian variety , what is in store after death.
All of us have come here for a purpose. The arrival time and the departure time are already structured in the computer driven and information networked cosmos. But there is always an innate desire to live little longer- strech out living time a little far ahead . But is it in our hands ? Can we postpone death by worrying ? How will we feel when the death comes and knock at the door ?
There is a belief and faith that if one dies in the dream, one will live for a longer time. I consoled my daughter that I may live for some more time .Indeed like others I also feel that whatever I have accumulated and what I will read in future, I should document for posterity in my own way because we are not telling anything new . Only narration is different. The force with which we argue for the voiceless is different and God will not take away until the job is over.
The important question to be asked is, “Have you lived a decent good life, helping the fellow human while rendering work ethics?” If the answer is “ Yes”, then that is the true legacy we leave behind.
Besides being good and honest, if we are also hard working and enterprising to leave a mark in our area of work, that will be simply incredible . At 60 plus, I feel as if I have joined my job only now and I have an insatiable thirst for reading and writing. But any discerning reader of my blog would notice that I have been all the time lamenting, virtually crying that I am not able to study and that I am not able to write more.
So long as this underlying spirit to do good and honest work is enveloping me , I will live and I cannot die . But if that ideal academic ambience does not clothe me I don’t want to live. A mere existence is a burden. It is too late to realize. It is not that I had wasted my time but I had not prioritized and invested my time for more writing in life. I should pat on my own shoulder to get some strength that for four decades I could not only teach but also enjoy teaching to different classes of audience in different parts of the country inclusive of the wonderful romantic city of Paris, which breathes the air of love , romance and wine, thereby giving legitimacy and credibility to my place of work. .
I never thought this piece , dealing with musings on life and death would evolve this way. But I am happy about its structure although nothing was contemplated this way. There are many more scribblings hidden in my debris and when they will come to this net, I don’t know. I sincerely pray that they don’t go just like that and dissolve in thin air like the affectionate letters I wrote to my wife in my younger days. I still feel that they were the distilled essence of my love even at the very immature age to a village girl , who was not only beautiful but also more hardworking, more understanding and more matured than me.
Every individual has his own story of love and death. In the face of heavy pressure of work I could not even visit JIPMER hospital today for getting a medical opinion on the report taken last year. What purpose that would serve now, I don’t know. I must go for a second checkup.
Tanduri Chicken and Biryani bought at a good restaurant recently opened in Puducherry was relished by all, especially the youngest one, in the company of my second grand daughter. Both of them have a good appetite for junk food which is tasty but not trustworthy from health point of view.
While eating and enjoying, I was feeling tired and I could not help telling my youngest daughter that there was some mild discomfort but I did not stop eating. Perhaps her concern about my health must have unconsciously sent signal to the molecules of her brain and made me die in her dream. It was just jolt for her to realize that I was no more and undertaking a journey to outer planets in some solar system without seeing her settled in life. She was thoroughly shaken in her dream and cried profusely, giving company to her mother, who had always told she would never cry when I die and remain bold.
What was the positive fallout of the dream? I got Dosa and Coffee, preparedly nicely by the youngest one, who usually shuns the kitchen. The kind of care that she bestowed upon me today, especially the day after my death in the dream I cannot forget in my life. Nor can I capture them in words. I know, for a longer time I have been harsh with her but there has been always a hidden love, an inexplicable concern and a tremendous anxiety towards her, especially in dreaming about the right kind of boy, given her assertive and dominat personality with all wild dreams and some societal concern..
I missed the University bus. While waiting for the private bus I allowed my imagination to wander and ruminate more on death. There was a time when I felt that I should not die and at some other times, soaked and fully drenched by sorrow and pain , I prayed for quick and graceful exit. I think all of us must have gone through this kind of phases in life .
Once the game is over, both the King and Pawn go to the same box. Where shall we go in the spirit form, I don’t know. But I am sure death will put an end to all our suffering and yet we don’t want to die, thinking that death will be more painful and there is complete uncertainity of Keynesian variety , what is in store after death.
All of us have come here for a purpose. The arrival time and the departure time are already structured in the computer driven and information networked cosmos. But there is always an innate desire to live little longer- strech out living time a little far ahead . But is it in our hands ? Can we postpone death by worrying ? How will we feel when the death comes and knock at the door ?
There is a belief and faith that if one dies in the dream, one will live for a longer time. I consoled my daughter that I may live for some more time .Indeed like others I also feel that whatever I have accumulated and what I will read in future, I should document for posterity in my own way because we are not telling anything new . Only narration is different. The force with which we argue for the voiceless is different and God will not take away until the job is over.
The important question to be asked is, “Have you lived a decent good life, helping the fellow human while rendering work ethics?” If the answer is “ Yes”, then that is the true legacy we leave behind.
Besides being good and honest, if we are also hard working and enterprising to leave a mark in our area of work, that will be simply incredible . At 60 plus, I feel as if I have joined my job only now and I have an insatiable thirst for reading and writing. But any discerning reader of my blog would notice that I have been all the time lamenting, virtually crying that I am not able to study and that I am not able to write more.
So long as this underlying spirit to do good and honest work is enveloping me , I will live and I cannot die . But if that ideal academic ambience does not clothe me I don’t want to live. A mere existence is a burden. It is too late to realize. It is not that I had wasted my time but I had not prioritized and invested my time for more writing in life. I should pat on my own shoulder to get some strength that for four decades I could not only teach but also enjoy teaching to different classes of audience in different parts of the country inclusive of the wonderful romantic city of Paris, which breathes the air of love , romance and wine, thereby giving legitimacy and credibility to my place of work. .
I never thought this piece , dealing with musings on life and death would evolve this way. But I am happy about its structure although nothing was contemplated this way. There are many more scribblings hidden in my debris and when they will come to this net, I don’t know. I sincerely pray that they don’t go just like that and dissolve in thin air like the affectionate letters I wrote to my wife in my younger days. I still feel that they were the distilled essence of my love even at the very immature age to a village girl , who was not only beautiful but also more hardworking, more understanding and more matured than me.
Birth of Gresham’s law: Bad Drives Good from Circulation.
Nobody would show disrespect
And walk away from a
Good leader.
But if “jokers and fools”
To use the phrase of one
Great scholar, an authority and
Specialist on the father of nation
And also an architect of modern India
Constantly surround the chief manager
With out doing their work
Like Chorus dancers in a story less film
And keep away the good
By poisoning the leadership
Inventing fictious tales, and
Indulging in character assassination,
The good becomes bad very easily
In the eyes of the CEO.
The bad and ugly, encouraged by this ‘work’
In the company of some ‘select’
Residual good, but totally
Devoid of ethics and justice
More treacherous and mean than the bad
Assume a larger than life image,
And define the parameters of
Efficiency and productivity
And preach sermons
This is how the bad drives away good from circulation,
And Gresham’s law is thus born .
In a liberalized, globalized
Information based, well connected
Global village, global customers
Would know
Who is good, who is bad?
Which commodity has become rotten?
And beyond redemption
Time alone will reveal
And heal the wound inflicted
Deep into the heart of the innocent
And hardworking
Abandoning family at far off places
And walk away from a
Good leader.
But if “jokers and fools”
To use the phrase of one
Great scholar, an authority and
Specialist on the father of nation
And also an architect of modern India
Constantly surround the chief manager
With out doing their work
Like Chorus dancers in a story less film
And keep away the good
By poisoning the leadership
Inventing fictious tales, and
Indulging in character assassination,
The good becomes bad very easily
In the eyes of the CEO.
The bad and ugly, encouraged by this ‘work’
In the company of some ‘select’
Residual good, but totally
Devoid of ethics and justice
More treacherous and mean than the bad
Assume a larger than life image,
And define the parameters of
Efficiency and productivity
And preach sermons
This is how the bad drives away good from circulation,
And Gresham’s law is thus born .
In a liberalized, globalized
Information based, well connected
Global village, global customers
Would know
Who is good, who is bad?
Which commodity has become rotten?
And beyond redemption
Time alone will reveal
And heal the wound inflicted
Deep into the heart of the innocent
And hardworking
Abandoning family at far off places
Flirtation from Chemistry to Literature- My First Daughter’s Academic Journey
Today I stumbled upon this piece amongst the academic debris. This was written by my first daughter (moderated and edited by me), soon after her graduation from Barathidasan. Thereafter she joined Pondicherry University and pursued both M.A and M.Phil in English literature..
In the last fortnight, there were many farewell parties, saying good byes. I too went to a few departments and shared my feelings.
I am sure this poem will propel our students to recollect and ruminate over the past, which cannot be a false memory.
I remember the first day
I went to school very sad
When I think of it now
I feel very bad.
As I went to school one day
Without home work done
My teacher’s face was red
Like a sun.
Friends were many in school
Years slipped away like days
Time was consumed away
In innocent laugher and joy.
At long last came,
The date with final examinations
Thinking about this thought
My heart throbbed in anticipation
Like an ordinary human,
I had great expectation
My performance was below my potential
And the examiners had passed judgment
Honey moon with chemistry came to an abrupt halt
Thereafter my flirtation with literature commenced
With reluctance and diffidence
In retrospect it appears,
I have lived through many lives
And appropriated the treasure of
The true philosophy of life.
Transition from St Joseph to Bharatidasan
Was neither smooth nor pleasant
I could see the age of innocence drying up
The wry face of adolescence revealing itself
In all its infinite variety.
Will three year subsidized college education
Inculcate in me a sense of concern
And respect for fellow humans?
Understand the trials and tribulations of
The underprivileged and downtrodden,
And share their sorrows and sufferings?
We have had our quota of fun and thrill
In the class room and on the verandah,
Soon this pleasant phase of life
Will become yesterday
Never to come like past history
Friends will drift in different direction
In search of job and higher degrees and
Or get married and bear children.
I wish them good luck.
In the last fortnight, there were many farewell parties, saying good byes. I too went to a few departments and shared my feelings.
I am sure this poem will propel our students to recollect and ruminate over the past, which cannot be a false memory.
I remember the first day
I went to school very sad
When I think of it now
I feel very bad.
As I went to school one day
Without home work done
My teacher’s face was red
Like a sun.
Friends were many in school
Years slipped away like days
Time was consumed away
In innocent laugher and joy.
At long last came,
The date with final examinations
Thinking about this thought
My heart throbbed in anticipation
Like an ordinary human,
I had great expectation
My performance was below my potential
And the examiners had passed judgment
Honey moon with chemistry came to an abrupt halt
Thereafter my flirtation with literature commenced
With reluctance and diffidence
In retrospect it appears,
I have lived through many lives
And appropriated the treasure of
The true philosophy of life.
Transition from St Joseph to Bharatidasan
Was neither smooth nor pleasant
I could see the age of innocence drying up
The wry face of adolescence revealing itself
In all its infinite variety.
Will three year subsidized college education
Inculcate in me a sense of concern
And respect for fellow humans?
Understand the trials and tribulations of
The underprivileged and downtrodden,
And share their sorrows and sufferings?
We have had our quota of fun and thrill
In the class room and on the verandah,
Soon this pleasant phase of life
Will become yesterday
Never to come like past history
Friends will drift in different direction
In search of job and higher degrees and
Or get married and bear children.
I wish them good luck.
I have enjoyed the comforts of Car , without owning it.Hence forward I will be careful before Stepping into a Car
When I was a young boy
Studying in my native village,
I had given company to
One of my good childhood friends,
A fair complexioned boy hailing from affluent family
Whenever he went out in his car
To his relative’s homes.
He had just learned the driving
And mastered the art of it
With all its infinite varierty.
At that time, it didn’t strike me
I should also learn car driving
Atleast out of curiosity.
My friend’s brother was quick to learn
That he couldn’t drive
And gave up in the middle
He remained content,
Steering only one day on our street .
That was the end of it,
And he got dependent on driver
Thereafter.
I had enjoyed the pleasure of
Traveling in car at young age
Without actually possessing it
Or owning it!
That was a time when
I learnt bicycling,
And got new Hercules cycle,
Making weekly trips
From pondicherry town to
My native village,
Some 27K.M.
My brother cum friend gave
Company on all those
Weekly trips.
On the midway we used to stop
For snacks and tea which cost just twenty paise
Both of us were studying in the
College then.
While all my school friends
And almost of my
Colleagues at work place
Have got into their own cars
Befitting of their affluence,
Status and of course
To provide comforts to family,
I could only make a
Transition from bicycle to Motor Cycle
Through the intermediate stage of Vespa and Chetak
And later abandon that
Motor Cycle too.
Easy access to bank loan,
Revised sixth pay commissions
Benevolent Package,
A reasonably large family.
With grand children
And their hi-tech appetite not for toy car
Ideal necessary conditions are many
And many other sufficient conditions,
Also equally abound
And yet absolutely there is no inclination
To jump into this kind of
Elite bandwagon.
The thrill of enjoying that affordable comfort
The fun and adventure accompanying it
Showcasing of one’s own royal style
Do not just exist for my own good
Why I suddenly write about
Car travel in shining India
Of late, I have been
Traveling on occasions in the
‘comfort zone’of a few colleagues’ car.
Beyond the ‘ comforts and pleasures’
There is also more pain
And discomfort.
I can’t take oath like one
Great scholar student/ friend
I will not bother to get
Those coveted 3 letters, PhD
But I will definitely moderate
While stepping into anybody’s
‘car’ of for that matter ‘Home’
I do have a real dilemma here
Another colleague has got a new car.
He would definitely mistake,
If I don’t step in,
When asked.
Gradually, gracefully I will
Convince him,
I must have my freedom
I would say.
With a quite few I have
Taken more liberty
Always I had some soft corner
Despite casual uneasiness
The time has come
To revisit this kind of
Relationship
By sheer coincidence,
I stumbled upon yesterday
Abdul Kalama’s precious lines:
“Life is a difficult game
You can win it
Only by retaining your birth right
To be a person.”
They are very much needed for me.
All through my life,
With all cumulative
Failings and falling in life
Not withstanding
All sweetness under the sun
All bitterness under the roof
All misplaced criticism from
Shallow creatures,
I have evolved as a person
Without abandoning my core,
As a person,
As an individual,
Who has obligations to society?
Unmindful of absence of
Reciprocity in the
Act of loving and giving.
I am sure, I must have
Felt profoundly even while
I was traveling at a
Very tender age,
With all innocence and
Naivety inherited from mother.
When I wrote these lines,
I never felt that
I was going to keep a distance
But, when chaos theory is at work
Even a small insignificant incident
Transforms our behavior at margin
There’s no quarrel with any one
But quarrel with the creator
Will continue in a more
Calibrated way.
It’s not personal,
There’s a lot of Economics
And politics, in all my
Confrontation with God,
From whom
I am not able to delink.
Mine is an interesting case of the
Embracing faith in goodness of the Universe
When good is outsmarted by
Bad and ugly,
Unruly and bully
Soaked in dirt and filth.
Even copious summer rain
Can hardly wipe out these debris.
Studying in my native village,
I had given company to
One of my good childhood friends,
A fair complexioned boy hailing from affluent family
Whenever he went out in his car
To his relative’s homes.
He had just learned the driving
And mastered the art of it
With all its infinite varierty.
At that time, it didn’t strike me
I should also learn car driving
Atleast out of curiosity.
My friend’s brother was quick to learn
That he couldn’t drive
And gave up in the middle
He remained content,
Steering only one day on our street .
That was the end of it,
And he got dependent on driver
Thereafter.
I had enjoyed the pleasure of
Traveling in car at young age
Without actually possessing it
Or owning it!
That was a time when
I learnt bicycling,
And got new Hercules cycle,
Making weekly trips
From pondicherry town to
My native village,
Some 27K.M.
My brother cum friend gave
Company on all those
Weekly trips.
On the midway we used to stop
For snacks and tea which cost just twenty paise
Both of us were studying in the
College then.
While all my school friends
And almost of my
Colleagues at work place
Have got into their own cars
Befitting of their affluence,
Status and of course
To provide comforts to family,
I could only make a
Transition from bicycle to Motor Cycle
Through the intermediate stage of Vespa and Chetak
And later abandon that
Motor Cycle too.
Easy access to bank loan,
Revised sixth pay commissions
Benevolent Package,
A reasonably large family.
With grand children
And their hi-tech appetite not for toy car
Ideal necessary conditions are many
And many other sufficient conditions,
Also equally abound
And yet absolutely there is no inclination
To jump into this kind of
Elite bandwagon.
The thrill of enjoying that affordable comfort
The fun and adventure accompanying it
Showcasing of one’s own royal style
Do not just exist for my own good
Why I suddenly write about
Car travel in shining India
Of late, I have been
Traveling on occasions in the
‘comfort zone’of a few colleagues’ car.
Beyond the ‘ comforts and pleasures’
There is also more pain
And discomfort.
I can’t take oath like one
Great scholar student/ friend
I will not bother to get
Those coveted 3 letters, PhD
But I will definitely moderate
While stepping into anybody’s
‘car’ of for that matter ‘Home’
I do have a real dilemma here
Another colleague has got a new car.
He would definitely mistake,
If I don’t step in,
When asked.
Gradually, gracefully I will
Convince him,
I must have my freedom
I would say.
With a quite few I have
Taken more liberty
Always I had some soft corner
Despite casual uneasiness
The time has come
To revisit this kind of
Relationship
By sheer coincidence,
I stumbled upon yesterday
Abdul Kalama’s precious lines:
“Life is a difficult game
You can win it
Only by retaining your birth right
To be a person.”
They are very much needed for me.
All through my life,
With all cumulative
Failings and falling in life
Not withstanding
All sweetness under the sun
All bitterness under the roof
All misplaced criticism from
Shallow creatures,
I have evolved as a person
Without abandoning my core,
As a person,
As an individual,
Who has obligations to society?
Unmindful of absence of
Reciprocity in the
Act of loving and giving.
I am sure, I must have
Felt profoundly even while
I was traveling at a
Very tender age,
With all innocence and
Naivety inherited from mother.
When I wrote these lines,
I never felt that
I was going to keep a distance
But, when chaos theory is at work
Even a small insignificant incident
Transforms our behavior at margin
There’s no quarrel with any one
But quarrel with the creator
Will continue in a more
Calibrated way.
It’s not personal,
There’s a lot of Economics
And politics, in all my
Confrontation with God,
From whom
I am not able to delink.
Mine is an interesting case of the
Embracing faith in goodness of the Universe
When good is outsmarted by
Bad and ugly,
Unruly and bully
Soaked in dirt and filth.
Even copious summer rain
Can hardly wipe out these debris.
A Tiger Visits a Farmer’s House Without taking anyone for its Dinner
In West Bangal village at midnight
A tiger visited a farmer’s house
While they were fast asleep.
Just imagine seeing a tiger
Sleeping by your side as a baby
When you wake up from bed
Early morning.
The very sight must have
Frozen us to death and destruction
Thank god! The farmer’s family
Had the balance and fortune
To get forest officer’s help
To dispatch the tiger safely
To its natural habitat.
What was it
That saved them from
Becoming dinner for the tiger?
Goddess Durga Devi?
Tiredness of the tiger? Or
Its benevolence towards the innocent?
In a ravine like environment of
Dense forest habitat, shakthi,
Foxes will roam around
Even at midnight
For chalking out a strategy
They’re continually hungry
For some prey
Beware of them.
You must have the balance and fortune
To keep them at bay
And not allow them to mess up your life.
Treating them as non-entities
To tame those foxes
And shut them into boxes
A better manager will come one day.
Even while that promised day
Becomes elusive,
Don’t lose your hope,
All of us can survive, with that hope only.
A tiger visited a farmer’s house
While they were fast asleep.
Just imagine seeing a tiger
Sleeping by your side as a baby
When you wake up from bed
Early morning.
The very sight must have
Frozen us to death and destruction
Thank god! The farmer’s family
Had the balance and fortune
To get forest officer’s help
To dispatch the tiger safely
To its natural habitat.
What was it
That saved them from
Becoming dinner for the tiger?
Goddess Durga Devi?
Tiredness of the tiger? Or
Its benevolence towards the innocent?
In a ravine like environment of
Dense forest habitat, shakthi,
Foxes will roam around
Even at midnight
For chalking out a strategy
They’re continually hungry
For some prey
Beware of them.
You must have the balance and fortune
To keep them at bay
And not allow them to mess up your life.
Treating them as non-entities
To tame those foxes
And shut them into boxes
A better manager will come one day.
Even while that promised day
Becomes elusive,
Don’t lose your hope,
All of us can survive, with that hope only.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Hello Lord! Are you listening? Will you take over now?
Sri Lankan Tamils and Palestinian
Population couldn’t have a torch
To pass through their dark passages of history
They had their leaders, to show light
And eventually deliver, but
Destiny did not favor them
Neighbors were indifferent and inimical,
The super power too didn’t bother.
Will Lord take over now?
In these adverse conditions,
How the innocent people will
Wade through
Real impossibilities and
Recurrent Resistances.
Is there any one in the cosmos
Having an altruistic attitude
To restore dignity on Tamil population there
There and other ethnic minorities elsewhere
Suffering silently all over the globe
And suffocating themselves to death
Hello Lord? Are you listening?
All these unfortunate people
Had a purpose and Focus
Patience, perseverance and endurance
But all these faithful warriors,
Couldn’t take things to a logical
Destination a welcome liberation.
Stupidity and self aggrandizement
At top? Lack of Diplomacy
And warfare, and not understanding
The ground level reality
All finer elements of politics,
Ever changing International Politics-
All the designs, all the passions,
Fashioned out in minute details,
To attain the higher ideal
Apparently impossible, in a realistic time frame
More particularly in the geo political setting,
But yet visible in distant future,
Have all faded and vanished into
Thin air, once and for all.
That Dreamland is now barren like a graveyard
Sick with Dead bodies and souls
Countless in number
An abandoned land like no other.
What’s the use of the so called
Interconnectedness, computer driven,
Networked, information efficient
Globalised and globalizing world?
Regardless of the word
Being flat or otherwise,
The fate of the marginalized and
Displaced by ethnic strife,
Will be at the feet of the crooked
And wicked, ruling in the name of
Manufactured democracy or Military Dictatorship.
Population couldn’t have a torch
To pass through their dark passages of history
They had their leaders, to show light
And eventually deliver, but
Destiny did not favor them
Neighbors were indifferent and inimical,
The super power too didn’t bother.
Will Lord take over now?
In these adverse conditions,
How the innocent people will
Wade through
Real impossibilities and
Recurrent Resistances.
Is there any one in the cosmos
Having an altruistic attitude
To restore dignity on Tamil population there
There and other ethnic minorities elsewhere
Suffering silently all over the globe
And suffocating themselves to death
Hello Lord? Are you listening?
All these unfortunate people
Had a purpose and Focus
Patience, perseverance and endurance
But all these faithful warriors,
Couldn’t take things to a logical
Destination a welcome liberation.
Stupidity and self aggrandizement
At top? Lack of Diplomacy
And warfare, and not understanding
The ground level reality
All finer elements of politics,
Ever changing International Politics-
All the designs, all the passions,
Fashioned out in minute details,
To attain the higher ideal
Apparently impossible, in a realistic time frame
More particularly in the geo political setting,
But yet visible in distant future,
Have all faded and vanished into
Thin air, once and for all.
That Dreamland is now barren like a graveyard
Sick with Dead bodies and souls
Countless in number
An abandoned land like no other.
What’s the use of the so called
Interconnectedness, computer driven,
Networked, information efficient
Globalised and globalizing world?
Regardless of the word
Being flat or otherwise,
The fate of the marginalized and
Displaced by ethnic strife,
Will be at the feet of the crooked
And wicked, ruling in the name of
Manufactured democracy or Military Dictatorship.
A Slap on Indian Culture
Mrs. .Parvathi, aged 80, who
Incidentally happens to be
Mother of late prabhakaran of
Elam Tamil struggle fame
Was not allowed to disembark
At Chennai airport
Despite the fact that
She had valid visa for
Medical treatment
By the Indian High Commission in Kualalampur.
She merited Media Attention.
Thanks to one Mr. R.Karuppan
Who filed a petition
Pleading for her treatment
Which was her entitlement.
Sending her back, without allowing her
To touch the Chennai soil
Was a sheer atrocity
Which no saner individual would
Ever have attempted to do.
He said rightly,
It was a barbaric act
And opposed to the rule of law
The constitution and
The U.N. charter on Human Rights
A nation fond of showcasing
Its generosity and benevolence in
Treating the people from Pakistan
Which is triggering terrorist attacks on our soil,
Denying access to our medical facility
To an aged lady of Tamil origin
Is a slap on Indian culture.
Incidentally happens to be
Mother of late prabhakaran of
Elam Tamil struggle fame
Was not allowed to disembark
At Chennai airport
Despite the fact that
She had valid visa for
Medical treatment
By the Indian High Commission in Kualalampur.
She merited Media Attention.
Thanks to one Mr. R.Karuppan
Who filed a petition
Pleading for her treatment
Which was her entitlement.
Sending her back, without allowing her
To touch the Chennai soil
Was a sheer atrocity
Which no saner individual would
Ever have attempted to do.
He said rightly,
It was a barbaric act
And opposed to the rule of law
The constitution and
The U.N. charter on Human Rights
A nation fond of showcasing
Its generosity and benevolence in
Treating the people from Pakistan
Which is triggering terrorist attacks on our soil,
Denying access to our medical facility
To an aged lady of Tamil origin
Is a slap on Indian culture.
The Belly laughter of a pair of middle aged laboring class: A Management lesson for living
Early morning when cell phone alarm clock alerted me to rise from the bed, I had firm resistance. After a few minutes, again it signaled me that I should get up from the bed, rather than laying idle and allowing the molecules of brain to generate wild dreams and desires.
Somehow by sheer grace and willpower, I got up and walked towards beach. I was impatient enough to return quickly and absence of the tender coconut vendor, on the street corner added more irritation to the troubled mind. For quite some time, why for a long time indeed, my absent minded nature has compounded the chaos ruling over mind.
While standing near my house gate, I saw two middle aged ladies, both of them short, and one was slightly fat, soaking themselves in roaring laughter. It was not an ordinary laughter, but something extraordinary, really great belly laughter. Continually, both of them were laughing over something, which I could not understand.
I couldn’t figure out the theme or topic which was triggering that kind of spontaneous, overflow of innocent emotive feelings, getting translated into pleasant sound and making me watch.
I called my youngest daughter, at home who was preparing for her end semester exam. I told her to watch them. Knowing my nature, she cautioned me and just checked me. The message was: I must be quiet.
But undaunted, I asked her to stay back near the grill gate and wanted her to hear their laughter. But this time, there was an uneasy silence for a minute or some seconds. Then, again like sea waves they roared in a more pleasant way, their whole bodies shaking with wonderful sensations. Believe it or not, it was a rare assemblage of body language fused with tremendous sense of humor.
My daughter went back to resume her work. As I had to cross their way while going for the purchase of some groceries; I couldn’t resist myself from talking to them. After all they are the known faces and with ageing process, I had little inhibition to start the conversation.
While I picked up the conversation, the short lady was stunned for a moment, as she did not expect me talking. I could not help from telling them a few kind words:
“I saw you laughing for sometime. I don’t know over which topic, both of you were deriving that kind of laughter. I am happy that you laughed this way. Whatever the problems you may have, all of them will just melt away. You laugh like this. That is good for health and do you know laughter is the best medicine”
Again they laughed more profusely. There were tears of joy, moisture in their eyes. It was a busy main road corner. It was really a pleasant sight to see native illiterate women having some discourse and recollecting some episode and then laughing in a more natural and normal way, unmindful of who was listening to them.
A few days later, while I was returning from the beach, I saw that fat lady and enquired about the reason for that laughter on that day. Again she did not expect me picking up the conversation. When she told the reason I was shocked. They were laughing not over any jovial or interesting event, but rather the other short lady was narrating her family problems, and this lady had the wisdom and tact to laugh them away by her management skills. That surprised me and I saluted her in my heart. Thiruvalluvar’s saying that laugh while you are sapped by problems and there is nothing other than that, which would solve the problems was empirically at work on that D-day.
Somehow by sheer grace and willpower, I got up and walked towards beach. I was impatient enough to return quickly and absence of the tender coconut vendor, on the street corner added more irritation to the troubled mind. For quite some time, why for a long time indeed, my absent minded nature has compounded the chaos ruling over mind.
While standing near my house gate, I saw two middle aged ladies, both of them short, and one was slightly fat, soaking themselves in roaring laughter. It was not an ordinary laughter, but something extraordinary, really great belly laughter. Continually, both of them were laughing over something, which I could not understand.
I couldn’t figure out the theme or topic which was triggering that kind of spontaneous, overflow of innocent emotive feelings, getting translated into pleasant sound and making me watch.
I called my youngest daughter, at home who was preparing for her end semester exam. I told her to watch them. Knowing my nature, she cautioned me and just checked me. The message was: I must be quiet.
But undaunted, I asked her to stay back near the grill gate and wanted her to hear their laughter. But this time, there was an uneasy silence for a minute or some seconds. Then, again like sea waves they roared in a more pleasant way, their whole bodies shaking with wonderful sensations. Believe it or not, it was a rare assemblage of body language fused with tremendous sense of humor.
My daughter went back to resume her work. As I had to cross their way while going for the purchase of some groceries; I couldn’t resist myself from talking to them. After all they are the known faces and with ageing process, I had little inhibition to start the conversation.
While I picked up the conversation, the short lady was stunned for a moment, as she did not expect me talking. I could not help from telling them a few kind words:
“I saw you laughing for sometime. I don’t know over which topic, both of you were deriving that kind of laughter. I am happy that you laughed this way. Whatever the problems you may have, all of them will just melt away. You laugh like this. That is good for health and do you know laughter is the best medicine”
Again they laughed more profusely. There were tears of joy, moisture in their eyes. It was a busy main road corner. It was really a pleasant sight to see native illiterate women having some discourse and recollecting some episode and then laughing in a more natural and normal way, unmindful of who was listening to them.
A few days later, while I was returning from the beach, I saw that fat lady and enquired about the reason for that laughter on that day. Again she did not expect me picking up the conversation. When she told the reason I was shocked. They were laughing not over any jovial or interesting event, but rather the other short lady was narrating her family problems, and this lady had the wisdom and tact to laugh them away by her management skills. That surprised me and I saluted her in my heart. Thiruvalluvar’s saying that laugh while you are sapped by problems and there is nothing other than that, which would solve the problems was empirically at work on that D-day.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Your Meditation on Economics must continue
I don’t remember when I wrote these lines. There was no farewell, as my friend V.Gopala Krishnan (V.G) got voluntary retirement. He is something special among my workmates all through my academic life. He is one of the scholarly and hardworking professors in Economics that the Union Territory of Puducherry has ever produced.
A short stature, humble and very much involved in subject is now at Madras. He has his eye and knee problems, but cannot delink from Economics. I miss him very much in Puducherry.
Today you retire from your
Daily, active, routine teaching life
Officially, sorry prematurely,
But certainly not a ‘Voluntary Retirement’
Like all paradoxes in life,
Your exit from the long span of academic Tapas
Will be also termed as a voluntary retreat
Unable and unwilling to tolerate the chaos.
I know the amount of anguished anger,
Sorrow, sadness, swelling in your
Heart,
About your helplessness,
In repairing and cleansing the system,
Independent of the sears left into the
Layers of your heart
By a series of personal tragedies of life
The crude absurdities of life.
People of our academic character and tribe have been
Always tossed and turned
By the cruel hands of fate,
Aided and abetted by crooks,
Rascalised criminals/ politicized animals.
The supreme has allowed it.
Being a victim of systematic chaos,
And having suffered at the hands of fate
And tasted the existence and operation of
Gresham’s law-
The bad driving out the good
From circulation
For a longish period,
You have chosen to say Goodbye
Even before the arrival of the official D-Day
The date of Academic Destiny,
Your actual retirement date.
On this day, of your voluntary retirement
In an involuntary fashion ,
I would like to move down the
Memory lane and recollect a few episodes
In order that I could take
Some snap shot pictures,
And showcase it to a broader audience.
You were far senior to me
In the college while studying
And yet, an inexplicable bond,
A pleasant chemistry,
Through Economics discipline and
Prof.Sasankan brought you to my marriage
In my native village
Even before our appointment
Came as Assistant Professor in Economics.
We were lucky to get selected
By sheer merit, and divine grace
God and Sasankan were the
Facilitators of our journey into
The world of Academics.
We have lived up to the reputation and
Faith reposed in us by them .
In one of the letters written to me
Prof.Sasankan observed :
“ I treat you and V.G as one”
And also he profusely thanked us
For having given company, care
And showering concern on him
During those dark and turbulent days
When many treated him as
Untouchable, and avoided his company
Lest they will be marked by authorities.
In the fishing village of Karaikal
There was no cost benefit calculus,
In our association with our
Beloved professor.
We shall be proud to say,
We belonged to an era of
Prof.Sasankan and Palani .G.Periasamy
And that we were both students at Tagore Arts College.
And teachers, in Economics department,
Thereafter in the Union Territory.
Our nine to nine stay at
Anna Arts College, Karaikal,
Must have been a role model
To many, as to how
One should not abandon family
For rendering work ethics.
Intoxicated with reading and teaching
At a young impressionable
Formative period we forgot time and family.
Thank God, we had understanding life partners, then.
I had the pleasant privilege
To work more closely with you, again
At the newly established
P.G.Centre, ably presided over by
A chemistrty professor from Chennai
A real professor and able administrator
Not a policeman variety
But a real gentleman
And a great academician
Ushering in a golden age of higher education,
Providing us a perfect academic ambience
That was our second
Academic Honey Moon
With a competent and competitive team
And with their core competence
There was always summer time
In our department and also in the institute
Your anger in not allowing me
To encroach upon your
Lecture time was more rational
And healthy
But I made that mistake again and again
Unmindful of your feelings.
I made you angry many a time
By extending my lecture time.
As I had always taken
Full liberty with you.
I had more degree of freedom with you.
I didn’t sever my emotional tie
Even after stepping into an exalted
Bigger Academic Corridor,
Our work places were apart
But the environment was the same
The only problem is
We couldn’t change our workstyle
The sheer quantum and extent of
Teaching must have irritated many
And made them look very small.
I have already summed up my
Experiences, frustrations and irritations
With many stupid Heads,
In a more eloquent and poetic way:
“A silent soliloquy on campus politics,”
Will see the light of the day
And echo your feelings too.
“It’s worth paying some money
To students, make them
Sit in the class and teach them
Even after retirement,”
Said our professor, once.
While he was active at work
With eye and knee problem,
You may not have the
“ Necessary and sufficient conditions”
For a streneous second innings
In the academic arena
And yet,
Subject to a variety of constraints,
You must continue to romance
With our lovely and lively subject
By doing meditation,
This involuntary retirement
Is meant for that.
I know, it is easier said than done
But we shall honestly try.
A short stature, humble and very much involved in subject is now at Madras. He has his eye and knee problems, but cannot delink from Economics. I miss him very much in Puducherry.
Today you retire from your
Daily, active, routine teaching life
Officially, sorry prematurely,
But certainly not a ‘Voluntary Retirement’
Like all paradoxes in life,
Your exit from the long span of academic Tapas
Will be also termed as a voluntary retreat
Unable and unwilling to tolerate the chaos.
I know the amount of anguished anger,
Sorrow, sadness, swelling in your
Heart,
About your helplessness,
In repairing and cleansing the system,
Independent of the sears left into the
Layers of your heart
By a series of personal tragedies of life
The crude absurdities of life.
People of our academic character and tribe have been
Always tossed and turned
By the cruel hands of fate,
Aided and abetted by crooks,
Rascalised criminals/ politicized animals.
The supreme has allowed it.
Being a victim of systematic chaos,
And having suffered at the hands of fate
And tasted the existence and operation of
Gresham’s law-
The bad driving out the good
From circulation
For a longish period,
You have chosen to say Goodbye
Even before the arrival of the official D-Day
The date of Academic Destiny,
Your actual retirement date.
On this day, of your voluntary retirement
In an involuntary fashion ,
I would like to move down the
Memory lane and recollect a few episodes
In order that I could take
Some snap shot pictures,
And showcase it to a broader audience.
You were far senior to me
In the college while studying
And yet, an inexplicable bond,
A pleasant chemistry,
Through Economics discipline and
Prof.Sasankan brought you to my marriage
In my native village
Even before our appointment
Came as Assistant Professor in Economics.
We were lucky to get selected
By sheer merit, and divine grace
God and Sasankan were the
Facilitators of our journey into
The world of Academics.
We have lived up to the reputation and
Faith reposed in us by them .
In one of the letters written to me
Prof.Sasankan observed :
“ I treat you and V.G as one”
And also he profusely thanked us
For having given company, care
And showering concern on him
During those dark and turbulent days
When many treated him as
Untouchable, and avoided his company
Lest they will be marked by authorities.
In the fishing village of Karaikal
There was no cost benefit calculus,
In our association with our
Beloved professor.
We shall be proud to say,
We belonged to an era of
Prof.Sasankan and Palani .G.Periasamy
And that we were both students at Tagore Arts College.
And teachers, in Economics department,
Thereafter in the Union Territory.
Our nine to nine stay at
Anna Arts College, Karaikal,
Must have been a role model
To many, as to how
One should not abandon family
For rendering work ethics.
Intoxicated with reading and teaching
At a young impressionable
Formative period we forgot time and family.
Thank God, we had understanding life partners, then.
I had the pleasant privilege
To work more closely with you, again
At the newly established
P.G.Centre, ably presided over by
A chemistrty professor from Chennai
A real professor and able administrator
Not a policeman variety
But a real gentleman
And a great academician
Ushering in a golden age of higher education,
Providing us a perfect academic ambience
That was our second
Academic Honey Moon
With a competent and competitive team
And with their core competence
There was always summer time
In our department and also in the institute
Your anger in not allowing me
To encroach upon your
Lecture time was more rational
And healthy
But I made that mistake again and again
Unmindful of your feelings.
I made you angry many a time
By extending my lecture time.
As I had always taken
Full liberty with you.
I had more degree of freedom with you.
I didn’t sever my emotional tie
Even after stepping into an exalted
Bigger Academic Corridor,
Our work places were apart
But the environment was the same
The only problem is
We couldn’t change our workstyle
The sheer quantum and extent of
Teaching must have irritated many
And made them look very small.
I have already summed up my
Experiences, frustrations and irritations
With many stupid Heads,
In a more eloquent and poetic way:
“A silent soliloquy on campus politics,”
Will see the light of the day
And echo your feelings too.
“It’s worth paying some money
To students, make them
Sit in the class and teach them
Even after retirement,”
Said our professor, once.
While he was active at work
With eye and knee problem,
You may not have the
“ Necessary and sufficient conditions”
For a streneous second innings
In the academic arena
And yet,
Subject to a variety of constraints,
You must continue to romance
With our lovely and lively subject
By doing meditation,
This involuntary retirement
Is meant for that.
I know, it is easier said than done
But we shall honestly try.
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