The more and more we have in life, The less and less we actually have

The paradox of our time in history is that the affluent and the upper middle class, with all their riches and abundance, comforts and luxuries, crave for more and more. The insatiable thirst for sensual pleasure/material comforts, to the greater neglect of values, morals, culture and laughter, has created a big void in life.

Saint Thiruvalluvar says that “those who are detached and distanced from comfort giving material goods are also free from their adverse consequences”.

Today I stumbled upon the interesting quote by George Cartin which I have transformed into a free versa.

We have taller buildings, but shorter tempers
Wider freeways, but narrower view points
We earn more, but have less
We have bigger houses and smaller families
More conveniences but less time
We have more degree but less sense,
More knowledge but less judgment,
More experts, yet more problems,
More medicines but less wellness

We drink too much, smoke too much,
Spend too recklessly, laugh too little,
Drive too fast, get too angry,
Stay up too late, get up too tired,
Read too little, watch TV too much
And pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our professions,
But reduced our values
We talk too much, love too seldom,
And hate too often.
We have learned how to make of living,
But not a life
We have added years to life
But not life to years

We’ve been all the way to the moon and back,
But have trouble crossing the street
To meet a new neighbor
We conquered outer space
But not inner space
We’ve done large things.
We’ve cleaned up the air,
But polluted the soul
We’ve conquered the atom
But not our prejudice

We write more, but learn less.
We plan more but accomplish less.
We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait.
We build more computers to hold more information
To produce more copies than ever
But we communicate less and less

FULL LIFE

On daily wage earners (Uma Devi Poems)

We are not birds
To carry the burden of nests

Our palace is on the bank of
Dirty river, (Coovam?)
Our bed room is also there

For constructing flyover
To facilitate metro rail,
And to make Chennai beautiful,
You will displace us

Just like butterfly variety tribe
Hopping from one plant to
Another plant
We all fly from
One place to another
Without complaining like
The big belly of the affluent
Who are born to?
Eat and accumulate fat

But, when a small national paper flag is
Pinned with our cloth (?)
And an orange sweet is also
Given to our children
It’ll evoke a boundless and
Endless laughter from us.

Money saved from day’s hard labour,
A part of it
Will be allocated
For Perumal and Iyappan deities
But for taking care of
Children’s education expense
We’ll go to Fr. Suresh only
And scratch our head,
Begging for assistance.

If food swallowed by children,
Accidentally enter the windpipe,
And nature promptly corrects it
Through a coughing sound,
We will go to mosque
And pray for the health of our children
Being devoid of any temple or tank of our own
Our family deity is Buddha.

After our time is
Spent in doing work,
And rendering good to others
The residual time will be
Consumed away by sleep.
Money earned through
Carrying gunny bag load of goods
By pulling rickshaw
Or selling fish,
Will be spent on food,
From the residual amount saved,
I’ll watch new movie
And have Sneha sari
He will have a glass of
Arrack (country liquour)

My daughter will go to
Government school
With torn petty coat
And blouse, also not in
Good shape, but pinned
In several parts of it
Whatever she gets
Sweets or cow’s colostrums milk
She will always share with others
Without any discrimination.

Be it family quarrel or
Anything stemming from his
Concubine,
It’ll come to street
The elder brother Munisamy
Will be the highest judge to preside over the dispute
His arguments and Ambedkar’s law
Will frequently go hand in hand
We have not gone to moon
We have not reached the stars also
But while we eat our rice (dinner)
Dog too will partake with us.

After Thamanyanthi’s poem, now it is the turn of Uma Devi’s poems to merit my attention for translation. The day was my second son-in law’s birthday. I was waiting for their arrival at home. At that time, I did this translation from the weekly Ananda Vikatan (2007). If only my health could co-operate, I would do more translations.

Seven years stress on martial waters: no light at the end of the dark channel

In the valedictory function of one training programme , I was pleasantly surprised by a girl (a woman of 37) who was known to me for one and half decades. I called her girl, because even with the passage of time, she looks like a girl. Currently she is a school teacher.

Once the function was over, I met the chief guest and spent sometime with him. It was just refreshing and satisfying for me just to see him and say hello. There were many other visitors with different agenda in their minds. I couldn’t freely talk to him. Sometimes it’s also good. From my side, I told a few good things that are on my way and he was glad to hear and I took leave.

As it was heavily raining I had to wait along with my young scholar friend. I didn’t pray for rain to stop, as rain God was performing his job to cool the summer. Who am I to interfere in his work? I patiently waited for the rain to subside and stop. At that time, that girl came and my youngest daughter also joined. To my daughter, she was telling how, I was known to her as teacher in PG Centre and so on. She had not changed much, the same talkative girl, with all assertiveness and independence.

I knew, she had undergone a major operation in the stomach and for reasons known to God sleeping in Heavens; everything was delayed in her life, job and marriage. I was hesitant to talk about her marriage. Later, I remembered that many years ago, she gave me marriage invitation. Everything was hazy in my memory. Still it was raining heavily. My young scholar friend was talking to another official. When the girl began to unwind her marriage and narrated that she had not lived even for a few days or rather spent some hours with her husband, it was more shocking and disturbing. Being a bold girl, talkative and highly sensitive, how she must have been managing the impossible, I pondered over.

The gentleman had married her after knowing all about her health conditions and all the compulsions associated with it. There was a clear gap of two months between betrothal and marriage ceremony. They liked each other. She couldn’t find any major problem with him. But after marriage, it did not click and everything changed. There was neither rhyme or music, nor song in life. She says that the days spent together were less and that could be counted and for the last seven years, she is alone.

Given a good parental genes, cultured behaviour and of course to maintain family honour, she is even willing to lick his shoes and prostrate before him, forgetting about all his inadequacies and short comings and be even prepared to resign her job and join him, but there is no reciprocation from the other side. I told her that job is more important and self respect is even more important and her seven years battle, living alone, tolerating the fire of separation, must have a logical end. I couldn’t advise what she must do. Indeed, with all her accommodative spirit, she has tried all possible routes to unite-atleast to live as a husband and wife and adopt a child……but the doors have been closed…… she can’t afford to remain in dark. Fortunately teaching young children should have given her solace and peace, although she finds it difficult to shout. Having learnt tolerance and patience and suffered more deprivation, she must enjoy the profession and turn her attention outward towards society…..what else one can do, when the fellow who married with Agni as the witness, has turned out to be a silent killer, by his sheer physical inadequacy and critical inability to understand her refined feeling and cultured behaviour?

Why should marriage, as an institution become a dead weight and burden, giving more pain eventually? Is there life sexual/sexual side? For many happening in life, there’s no readymade or profound answer. Many questions will remain as questions for ever, although, we must strive for solution, even while answer is elusive and out of reach. It’s easy to conclude with poetic touch. But, what’s the solution for this bold girl, who is in her midway of life. Having lost all the fire and flavour of life and the very prospect of taking steps every day will be full of struggle. A miracle, perhaps take place in her dreams. But to dream, one should sleep!

Meditating again on life begins at 60

In the last few posts, I have been repeatedly writing that life has begun for me at 60 plus. It’s not that I have not had any worthwhile accomplishments, joyous moments or occasions for celebration before sixty. There were many and I have forgotten them.

The fact of the matter is that I did not do many things, which I could have (or should have) done. First let me start with basics. Having been married at a very young age (20 plus) to a 18 year old cute village girl and background, I must have listened to my Economics Professor V. Sasankan’s voice and concern : you should not only love your wife, but also tell her, you love her daily”. I did not internalize his counsel.

After having lived with her for about four decades and fully realizing her anguished anger now, I do feel that inadvertently I had neglected her and offended her finer sensibilities and feelings. My care and concern, love and affection, with compound interest begin now, on the eve of sixty plus, but there is firm resistance from the other side. Basics of love are clear now: seeing the eternal beauty on the ageing wife……. Even in the face of absence of any kind of reciprocation, do we lose anything by loving others? True love implies more sacrifice, more accommodation. I also feel that true love entails more pain and suffering.

Around 50, one should settle down financially, and money should not be a cause for worry. All through my life I had not done any sensible money management. Now at 60, I feel that I should do something about it. It is too late to recover lost ground. A few extra saving is needed for travel and also for the marriage of the youngest daughter. I have never suffered for want of money, as my wants and lifestyle were simple. My better half was more contented than me. For the sake of daughters, some homework must have been done.

Come to think of travel, I have never availed LTC facility, all though my academic journey. I did travel to a few places, on my own. For teaching purpose, I widely traveled a lot. I still vividly remember those memorable three days I spent in three capitals of Bihar, West Bengal and Orissa, on successive days in the ‘90s (late). My first LTC trip to Kashmir and my first overseas trip came along, around 60 milestones only.

My first appointment in 1970 as Assistant Professor in a Pre-Degree College coincided with Headship. It was a one man department. So, I happened to be the Head of the Department. For the next three decades, many of my juniors became HOD’s, but I couldn’t, because in those places where I worked, some seniors were always there. Headship and Deanship came towards the end at late stage in life, much to the frustration among a few at least. With all neutrality, fairness, commitment and compassion towards people I have been not rightly understood.

Human relations have become too fragile. Why do educated and experienced people talk ill of others? Is friendship or working relationship, related to community, class, colour or sex? Why some Fellows refuse to change, even after getting a serious of beating in life! We have not come here to reform them or repair them. At 60 plus, I begin to learn more about the human nature. The persons with whom we move are the same. It’s only our perceptions about them change. Many a time, I have tolerated and accommodated; now around 60 plus, I get the wisdom, dignified silence and alienation will give me peace and more important, more time to meditate and write, as craving for reading increases, as the days pass.

It is only at sixty, my one and half decade old pending service matters, which have been in a state of virtual mess and suspended animation, are getting streamlined, thanks again to one young scholar friend mentioned above. I am a privileged man on earth, as I am taken care of by many youngsters who are incidentally not my direct students.

Before joining the University, I never bothered about publications or project. In the first instance I hardly had any desire to step into this kind of exalted corridor. As the three PhD coveted letters embraced me only after a long protracted struggle, my entry into the University was delayed. But once these letters began to get tagged along with the name, it was just a function of time and I found myself as a teacher in a University system.Towards the fag end of my academic life, now only I make some attempts to apply for project, that too for the purpose of helping students. For reasons, which I don’t want to elaborate, project never rocked my mind. There are many self financing projects accumulated in the shelves for ages and I do fully realize my limitations and when will delivery take place, I don’t know.

Craving for reading and writing has been there right from college days. But there was no tendency to market myself, sell myself, develop a networked relationship and more important, adopt a dynamic approach to push things. At 60 I can very well understand my tiredness. But for nearly a decade on inexplicable tiredness and laziness, did chain me and tossed me into an academic recession .

Now, at 60 plus, the craving for reading and writing, has intensified manifold. But the impossibility to do so, also strikes me, but I am no longer diffident or hesitant by citing health factor or ageing process or domestic chaos for my sluggish growth. Indeed, all these hurdles are welcome; it is too early for me to shrink and withdraw as I realize that my bonus time is shrinking. I must rationally exploit them, and do justice to the profession, as also society. The optimistic hope, “we shall overcome” slogan, must infect you and me and we shall march ahead, come what may.

Life has begun, with remarkable boyish enthusiasm; around 60 plus and I will continue to live, as I had lived thus far, valuing self-respect more and not compromising on principles and my philosophy of life. I have missed many things in life and the wise and benevolent destiny has compensated me adequately. No regrets .

I should decide where I should create a wall and keep up the distance and maintain dignified silence to insulate myself from the major irritants. I have always listened to intuition, inner voice even while predicting crisis in economics and understanding or assessing human behavior
Even in a crowd, I must know that I am alone and even while I am alone, I am connected with others through books and thought process. A series of cumulative failures and different kinds of loses in life including the deprivation of simplest pleasures have taught me, a vital lesson that we must live beyond these travails and feel humble in victory and assert our optimistic personality under stress and distress. Peace and happiness spring from within and they do not come from others. We shall look inward even while socializing and globalizing with others.

Death is always with us: we shall overcome the entire hurdle, while living

A good cinema or a good book must go deep into you heart .disturb your sleep and make you think. In the recent times, indeed for a long time, I have been not able to see movie in theatre; and due to administrative pressures I have been not able to read more both in my subject or other related works. I have a passionate interest to read both fiction and non-fiction. I feel that I have missed many things in the reading list. for a long time This feeling of guilt and academic inadequacy will persist till I breathe last.

For reasons known to god, my time has been consumed away by many in the last few years. Domestic chaos further compounded it. Indeed the latter must have been exploited to do those things which I could not do in the past. At 60 plus, I get wisdom. Indeed life really has started unfolding after 60 only. I am able to see different kinds of benevolent intervention. I am afraid; I would be raising the level of my indebtedness to quite a few.
While changing for the better and also aspiring to be little organized I want to hold on to the naivety I have inherited from my mother and bottle it up partially in order to retain my innocence and child in me for they alone can give me peace. I do not want to be smart nor shrewd, calculative or strategic. They belong to the domain of the great academic politicians I do not want to be a part of that kind of group
Yesterday my young scholar friend was reminding me about the famous poem of Nelson Mandela “we shall overcome” which echoes the optimism of marginalized and neglected. Will Eeelam Tamils or tribal fighting for their livelihood and conserving ecological balance, nearer home l have the fortune and balance to see their existential dilemma resolved?

Will I overcome all my hurdles on the way before shaking hands with the creator? One French Nobel Lauret’s deep contemplation on death comes to my mind. He says: my death is always with me. Even if I don’t feel or realize it, it has been with me always. If that is the case why should I be unnecessarily afraid of it? When it has already arrived and stayed with me, why should I worry and fear that it’s going to visit me at a future date. That will be simply ridiculous. Death is like a page in a book I am reading now, but that is the last page of the book which I have not read yet”.

Therefore, let us read our ‘life book’ unmindful of the fact, whether we will have our time to read until the last page of that book or go while reading the middle; eventually it depends upon that ‘call’. Is it from above or from within, it’s immaterial. The uncertain, unpredictable arrival of death is the only incentive or suspense in the drama of life. We don’t think about it, while everything is going fine. One thing is sure enough, when that alarm bell rings and the call comes, we can’t pretend that we have not heard it. Until then, let us enjoy each moment in life, as if it’s the first or last one and enjoy the value of marginal time. Whether we live one day or hundred years, at each stage of life, we are governed by the behavior at margin. That’s the beauty and novelty of life. Everyone is after fame, name and luxurious life. Leading a luxurious life is not only boring, but also sinful.

Handling the Trust deficit on Doctors: I salute the good and honest

Once, Mr. S. Ramakrishnan, a famous writer in Tamil, was asked a question: “What’s the most deadly disease- the one that can never be cured on earth?
“It’s simply the lack of trust on doctors. There is so much trust deficit today that those who regularly visit doctors for a routine check-up or some immediate treatment, they don’t have any faith at all . They rightly suspect whether the medicines prescribed by the doctors will help cure them. To be on the safer side, they would like to seek a second opinion, by searching for some other doctor/hospital. After consulting them, they attempt to compare the two doctors. The result is that they get confused and become clueless as to who is the better doctor?

“Even while they are under allopathic treatment, they switch over to alternative medicine. And before they begin and take that medicine and complete the full course they give up as they develop doubts about its efficacy. They simply, blindly begin believing whoever says anything about medicine. By brooding over it, they become afraid. That fear is the most dangerous one in today’s world, which cannot be cured”, said the writer.
For a long time, I didn’t visit any eye clinic for testing the power of my glass. Why and how it happened, I can’t provide any rational answer. A few months ago, when I visited a local eye clinic at Pondicherry town, I was told that not only the sign of the power glass had changed from positive to negative and also that there were a few signs of formation of Cataract in both the eyes and they were at the second stage, and they need to be operated.

I was prescribed an eye drop which I was supposed to administer for the next three months. I presumed that it was meant to ripen that component/segment to be removed. I took my own sweet time to buy that eye drop and only once my youngest daughter put it on my eye. The very next day I had my own misgivings about the eye drops. I couldn’t go for second opinion, by sheer laziness and dependence on others for company. Somehow by intuition, and by sheer divine intervention, I myself felt that I should not hasten the process of ripening it just like the artificial ripening of mangoes using carbide chemical and by sheer choice, I abandoned that drop. It was one of the sensible decisions that I had taken in my life. But given the lurking fear or anxiety that cataract was being formed and any failure to neglect this would be grossly stupid, I wanted to have a second opinion from some other popular clinic, at Pondicherry.

A day was fixed by one of former students, who is a lecturer in a Government Society College. By his habitual response, he could not reach me and when he did come after a lapse of a week or so, I was not interested in going. He fully grasped my anger and irritation. So, the proposed visit abruptly ended as it began. Despite my irrational behavior and misplaced anger, there was some method in my madness; I had already decided to undergo the surgery at Madras (Chennai) and hence it was felt to get the second opinion at Chennai itself. .

Thanks to the benevolent care and concern bestowed upon by one of the young scholar friends a kind of gentle breeze sent from heaven by divine, before going to Kashmir, I went for a second Master check up at one ISO certified institution and on the same day completed eye check up also at another institution. He was fully instrumental for the much delayed visit.

The bright young girl (about whose qualification I don’t know) who checked my eyes was all patience and talent personified, but did not comment on the contested question of the state of cataract. She prescribed a better or rather improved number of glasses than the one I was wearing. She took her sweet time and did the job very neatly. The duty doctor, who revisited my eye, later suggested that the surgery could be arranged at any date convenient to me. Being situated in a rural ambience the over all budgetary estimate for the operation would be also considerably less, the hospital staff told. Not fully convinced or satisfied, an appointment was fixed with another reputed doctor in the heart of the city, the next week.

Immediately after returning from Kashmir, my friend took me to Chennai and the said doctor examined, with all the silken touch of her mind and heart and gave me comfort by saying that there was absolutely no urgency for me to undergo the operation. No doubt, cataract was being formed and it was better to wait for quite some time and that tere is all the time to plan it out leisurely, she told. “So long as you have a clear vision, no blurred image and so on, the situation is manageable, we can wait. At this stage even if we perform surgery, the new glass will be no better than the one you wear now. And there is an additional problem of protecting against plausible infection and so on. We shall better wait for a few months or even a year and then think about it until then, we will wait. You just relax and you need not be extra cautious”, she reassured me. I profusely thanked the doctor with folded hands for giving me some relief now


. Medical profession is not merely a profession or trade;It’s a service for a fee. It’s a sacrifice for others happiness. Doctors play God’s role for saving the lives of many. Without offending or wounding the sensibleness of doctors-good, bad, ugly, I would like to say that let each one take up the profession more seriously, more sincerely and more passionately, as if they are wild lovers, engaged in serious love making and must do a correct diagnosis. A gentle touch, a few kind words, and an uninhibited state of mind to spend time with the patient and understand the state of ailment are very much imperative for a good doctor. They can’t work like machines with wheels on their legs. They need to prioritize their time between family and patient, leisure and work and of course need to update knowledge by continuous reading, besides having adequate sleep and not missing breakfast. Doctors, the miniature of God, are you listening?

While completing this, flash news comes from Tamil Nadu that nearly 260 BA degree holders have fooled the public claiming themselves as MBBS doctors or otherwise, what shall we do with those nasalized criminals? Will law of the land avert this kind of disaster in future? Unless and until, the administrative machinery is alert and regulatory framework is in place, this kind of fraud cannot be prevented.

Let us start from Kashmir to do the repairing work in shining India

During Paris trip last year end, I felt France means, romance, wine and perfumes. In the same vein, I said to myself that Kashmir means beauty, nature’s bounty and of course its wounded agony, like a caged tiger. It is debatable, to what extent, the caged tiger, when released, will find its identity and march towards the stated goals or targets; whether or not the new leadership will build a new Kashmir, without being molested/ dominated by any other external agency. I doubt very much the viability and sustainability of this region as a separate entity, with all my sympathy and concern for the poor people’s desire to be left alone, freed from the clutches of both India and Pakistan. . Though it’s a contested territory, I feel that as compared to many other troubled regions, Kashmir is better, and with the newly bought relative peace, the militants must bargain for more development for the poor and also for growth of the region, without affecting environment. I am indeed happy that this part of the country has been not exposed to foreigner’s penetration in the form of FDI.

I do understand that Kashmir is a wounded world, having its own agony and anger, but they are disguised in its ability to express the beauty and youthfulness, generosity and forgiveness and of course the smells and sounds of roaring rivers, dancing tall trees, moving rope cars, falling snow, chill breeze gently embracing both locals and tourists without any sense of discrimination. Both Kashmir and the Greater India can co-exist, inclusive of many troubled zones in the North and North-eastern parts not to speak of the problem ridden areas in the middle and Southern parts; this can happen only when there is more love and forgiveness on either side. Who should forgive whom is a difficult question. But the plain logic is, the oppressor, the violator of human rights, the aggressor sponsored corporate organizations raping the environment, must begin to learn how to keep the diverse population, consisting of mostly wage earners, marginalized labourers, educated unemployed youth innocent tribals and so on together, freed from the exploitation of vested interest both domestic and foreign.

A kind of nominal allowance for horsemen and boatmen operating at vital tourist destinations during the lean season shall be envisaged. More important they should not be harassed physically of financially by the authorities. Of course all these people can thrive even without government’s help. I am told that there is nothing like a lean season because even during winter there is a greater flow of traffic from foreign countries. But the most important, essential precondition for the free flow of traffic is that the relative peace bought between the militants and the government must continue and there should be more give and take. Shall we hope that the recent visit of Prime Minister (it was scheduled the day after our departure) and the discussion with various representatives of Kashmir group will yield and political dividend for the people of the land here.

As stated already, Kashmir with all its ideal and abundant hydro-electric potentials and resources, generate more electricity, but get starved of it for its essential basic needs, as they have to be transmitted to the Northern Grid, for illuminating the Capital city and neighborhood, I am told. This kind of sharing of resources perhaps may be there at other regions too. But, there is something called minimum power requirements for a small region called Kashmir which is fortunately consisting of only small, small villages. Why should they live in dark and forego the comforts of life. Should not they have entertainment at home? Especially when many womenfolk do not move out much and miss the opportunity to see the glass curtain economy elsewhere in the country; should not they watch television for information, entertainment and news?

Let the Federal government be advised about the state of real India from Kashmir to Kanyakumari and take corrective and remedial measures to rebuild the neglected rural India, the marginalized tribal India and much harassed dalit India. It is high time that market lovers like Dr. Manmohan Singh and Mr. P. C learnt that there is life beyond Mumbai and Chennai, Delhi and Kolkata. More important there are many troubled zones in various parts of the country for various economic and political reasons. Therefore, to consolidate the macroeconomic gains, political security and stability are very much essential. For that to happen the economic, political and monetary union of India must be made to work for all the people in the country and not merely for the wealthy business class and a growing tribe called corrupt segment of politicians and their counterparts in other walks of life. Shall we start from Kashmir and do the repairing work?

Before I conclude let me say that during our one week stay there we did not come across any kind of untoward incident. I was told that one day there were some problems the details of which I don’t know which led to one day harthal. There are some elements which provoke peace loving Kashmir people and that must be firmly resisted.

In Srinagar and other surrounding places the public transport system is still governed by 1988 brand small town buses, releasing more toxic fumes on the road. With all multi-colour and make-up they looked like aged tribal ladies. It is high time the old buses were discarded at the earliest and the new modern small buses capable of negotiating small roads and sharp bends are introduced. From environmental point of view they do not have any right to exist and must be allowed to have a natural death. While the affluent and middle class can afford to travel by taxi, the tribals and the poor will rely on private and public transport system

On the first day when I was traveling from airport in a market place I saw a beautiful Kashmir girl traveling in that kink of old dilapidated bus taking a window seat and just smiled at me. Now I imagine how she would look like a divine angel if she happens to travel in a new car rolling on Kashmir valley befitting of its status as the ideal tourist destination. I pray to the almighty that both the Federal and state government should do the necessary homework to chalk out the various plans and generate more economic externalities to both local population and the tourists. The jewel like Kashmir cannot be allowed to accumulate dust, it needs to be polished again and again in order that there will be eternal beauty on its young face.