The Last Blog of the Year...

It is difficult for me to remember January 1st 2007. I do remember that I was in Libya. If my memory is accurate on 31st night I and sabari watched Don in my laptop. The print was so bad but anyway we watched it because we didn’t have anything else to do in that ‘desertified’ land. Exactly 3 months later my laptop was stolen. Ah...The first prominent loss after the loss of that Chennai entity in 2005. It was bad, I mean the way these two incidents affected my life. it was terrible and the funniest part is that I remember every thing about these two events in my life. Wow…

I am back in India now; if everything happens in the right direction I will be flying again this year to a new country. Not so sure about the destination. I am also concerned about the dwindling health of my mom and the ageing factor of my father. I think these are all affects of passage of time – inevitable and undeniable…

So one full year awaits me and all those who are alive…what is in store for me and others who knows…

The Day After Christmas…

Picture courstey - Deb Seeger -Fiber Artist

The lull that follows a storm, as experienced by wise men.
Before my tongue curled up to a pause after saying the word amen
An electrified and unplanned wrath from the clouds above befell
The silent weeping of the heart staring at the distant shores of hell.

A refined and uncluttered mind is like a pretty flower that will bloom inside
Straight from Truth’s mouth, reluctant and inhibited came the verbal landslide
Shots aimed in darkness, forceful and sharp, body convulsed in agony.
Pain liberates the soul; it edges and reaches out to the zone of ecstasy.

Turning round and round, the stable rock invites me to have the permanent grip
I may stumble but may not fall, slippery; the surface will never let me slip
The strength that comes to me from the unwavering light of hope, spectacular
More than the human spirit of fickle-mindedness and jocular vagaries.

Knowing Me, Knowing You

No more carefree laughter.
Silence ever after.

Walking through an empty house, tears in my eyes
Here is where the story ends, this is goodbye
We just have to face it, this time were throug.

Memories (memories), good days (good days), bad days (bad days)
They’ll be (they’ll be), with me (with me) always (always)
In these old familiar rooms children would play
Now there’s only emptiness, nothing to say
Breaking up is never easy, I know but I have to go

(I have to go this timeI have to go, this time I know)
Knowing me, knowing you
It’s the best I can do.

Song Trivia (Courtesy – Wikipedia).

"Knowing Me, Knowing You" is a hit single recorded by Swedish pop group ABBA. The song was written by Stig Anderson, Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus, with the lead vocal sung by Anni-Frid Lyngstad. "Knowing Me, Knowing You" is also featured in the Mamma Mia! Musical.

My Analysis of the Song (lyrics):

A simple song with a complex idea. It talks about a break up and it’s after effects. In the first stanza – the singer is accompanied with minimal music and it sets the tone for the song. Her voice may sound as if she is filled with repentance and second thoughts but as she sings the last two lines of the first stanza –

Walking through an empty house, tears in my eyes
Here is where the story ends, this is goodbye

It gathers momentum and force from this point. She is sealing her decision to leave her so called lover for reasons known best to her and her love. She is emotional and reluctant at the beginning of the song. Later on she becomes more resolute and strong. She even spurns the idea of living with her love.

Breaking up is never easy, I know but I have to go.

I feel that the song is all about decision making and enforcing it in a proper way. With the lyrics like – I have to go, this time I know – the song talks about separation and the final good bye. It involves memories which are good and bad. In brief, the song is like a sawn song of a relationship. it may have relation to what the band members themselves experienced in their lives.
That’s all I have to say about this lovely song from ABBA.

ABBA - Sweet Voice from my Musical Yesterday...

In the first blog post on Abba, I described how the music of abba is intertwined with my childhood life. It indeed brings in a flood of memories. I think every time when I listen to this Swedish band I experience what Longinus describes as – Transportation. I think if I apply some thought to this intensely emotional area of my life, I can observe two qualities in the music of ABBA. The first one is their – lyrical quality and the second one is their power of music. I plan to select some songs for re-discovering ABBA.

ABBA was a Swedish pop group active from 1972 until 1982. The quartet was formed through the friendship of Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus and their respective girlfriends Anni-Frid Lyngstad and Agnetha Fältskog, and together they topped charts worldwide from the mid-1970s to the early 1980s. The name "ABBA" is an acronym formed from the first letters of each group member's given name.
Courtesy – Wikipedia

In my journey to discover the magic of ABBA I intend to analyze the following songs based on two parameters - LQ (Lyrical Quality) and MQ (Musical Quality)

Knowing me Knowing You – (LQ)
Eagles – (MQ)
When all is said and Done – (LQ)
Dance – While the music still goes on - (LQ) and (MQ)
One of Us – (LQ)
Honey Honey - (LQ) and (MQ)
Our Last Summer – (LQ)

I am attracted to the lyrical quality of their songs because of two reasons. One, I am a word warrior (English Teacher) and second, i am a lover of words (Writer)

So I say
Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing
Thanks for all the joy they're bringing
Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty
What would life be?
Without a song or a dance what are we?
So I say thank you for the music
For giving it to me

Conversation with God (Part Two)

There are times in human life when one acutely needs the presence of God. The question is how to get it? Some are of the opinion that we should read some books related to spirituality or even get hold of the Holy book. May be they are right. I am interested in a much more closer approach - Where you shut yourself away from the world and talk to him in a cloistered environment. It’s just you and Him. This suggestion is not because of any animosity or allergy towards reading holy books. I strongly believe that reading a book is more like a ritual. It is an act where your thoughts are directed towards the book and the words in it. When you are undergoing a kind of ‘spiritual hibernation’ your mind is prepared for the act of conversation. The word of conversation also means much more than its literal meaning. It is an activity where informal thoughts are exchanged with your God in a casual way. He is your friend and he is listening to you. On a higher plain it becomes a kind of free-wheeling session. It is meditative and at the same time it becomes explosive. You can shout at the God not in anger but you want to show Him that you are really frustrated and fatigued. Like a man and a woman who really understand each other and cares for each other the relationship with God should be something open and honest.

Stay blessed in your words and deeds to Him.
Its good always to sing a personal hymn.
to unburden, to unleash the fatigued mind
There He is - a listener who is kind.

Conversation with God (Part One)

What makes the human reach out to the heaven and yearn for the divine touch. In this fast paced life one is constantly subjected to the pressures of life (where the pleasures are few). Personally I have felt the need to escape from all the madness that is around me and sit in a serene place to converse with my creator and protector. I used to do that in MCC when I was over-burdened with the business of life. In some way the habit was so constructive and productive and I used to emerge from this divine meetings feeling refreshed and energized. I do miss this now…

It is only after talking to my spiritual mentor (a true believer) that I realized that there is the possibility of doing the same wherever I am. Whenever I feel like talking to a person whom I like and If that person is kind of busy and pre-occupied I think that it is possible to do the same with God. He becomes that person and he is there to listen to you. This also led me to the conclusion that there is no point in running after the so called worldly things. It is futile and frivlous…

The Best, the Most and the Award goes to……

It is a good thing to appreciate something of high-quality. It is a kind of positive act which shares with the world the good news that something beautiful exists in this world. But is it always good to go for the best???? Especially when we celebrate beauty and waste time tracing the richest people of this world.

I have heard about many instances where the best things in the world are celebrated. For example there are hundreds of reports on the richest man on this planet. Rarely will you find an article talking about the poorest man on this planet. I am really worried about this act of singling out a man or a woman and placing them in a pedestal. This is most common when it comes to deciding on the most beautiful face or body. We have seen Indians being crowned the world beauty queens depending on their so called physical and intellectual abilities.

I would like to quote an article by R.K Narayan – The creator of the literary space called Malgudi. In his book – ‘The Writerly Life’ he talks about the concept of the Beauty and the Beast. How we create these two socio-cultural identities through the act of classification of the best and the most. He strongly suggests that if we can conduct beauty programs for the selecting the most beautiful face then naturally we can find some way of promoting the ugliest face on earth. Even they can appear in ads and they also will have some USP associated with them.

To take a literary leap into the French classic by Victor Hugo –The Hunchback of Notre Dame contains a scene where Quasimodo is elected as the ugliest man of the town

.

I am also tempted to appreciate the efforts of the New York Times Chief Media Critic – A.O Scott’s to create a list of the worst movies in the year 2006. Interestingly the worst movie of that year is the visual version of Dan Brown’s best seller – Da Vinci Code.

So Let us check out the list of the Best and the Most
MTV most wanted – MTV least wanted
World’s Famous – World’s Infamous
The best B-schools in India – The worst B-schools
The richest – The poorest

ABBA – a tribute - part one

I believe that at the end of our lives, before we close our eyes for the last and final sleep there will be a slideshow that will happen in our minds. A slideshow which will bring in the best and the worst of our lives. I am reminded of the movie American beauty where the character (Lester Burnham) played by Kevin Spacey mouths this exact belief of mine.

I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die.

I don’t know how I will die. My friends and others who love me will it is such a self-destructive idea. Yes, they are right. But I am certain of something – that I will hear the voice of ABBA resonating in my ears before I close my eyes. They are so close to my personal life that by just listening to them I am taken for a pleasant walk down the memory lane. The effect is more when I see that it is not just me who is there for this walk but also my family. Abba is fact that runs through our family. Thanks to the musical sensibilities of my dad who nurtured a deep desire and love for sane music. I remember him recalling that the first ‘household item’ that he bought off his first salary was a HMV gramophone or the LP disc player. I would like to conclude this episode of my verbal tribute by quoting few lines from the poem piano by D.H Lawrence. The spirit of music that is embedded in these lines is something that is closer to what we had at ‘Shelter’ my home at Calicut.

The glamour
Of childish days is upon me..
My manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance

(To be continued….)

The Exciting world of Podcasts and RSS feeds

One of the reasons why I did not write in my blog for the past two or three days is because I was delving deeper and deeper into the world of Podcasts and RSS feeds. These two words were Greek and Latin to me earlier…but not anymore… I can call myself a Podcaster and RSS feed buff.

The first word is a portmanteau word like – infotainment (information and entertainment). The word is a combination of – I pod and Broadcast. They were originally designed for Apple Ipods and later on were made available for mass consumption.

The next word means Really Simple Syndication which is a kind of update that is made available from a website. For example Times of India website gives you the option of subscribing to its RSS feeds on a regular basis.

The kind of subjects that are available in Podcasts will leave you baffled and wonder struck. Almost all the leading media houses own a podcast directory. BBC, Newyork Times, and CNN have wonderful topics in their podcast archive. Other prominent podcast directories can be subscribed from NGC, Discovery, NASA, and M TV.

The best part of the whole thing is that most of these podcasts are free of cost..

So if you are listening – get I tunes software downloaded from the Apple website and enter the world of Podcasts.

Best wishes for a happy and fruitful podcasting…

The Art of Smiling...

Everybody loves a good smile. It’s kind of therapeutic. The quality of smile can be compared to that of Mercy as explained by Portia in Merchant of Venice.

It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes…

A Smile should be spontaneous. It should really spruce and spice up life. In these days of plastic smiles and elastic smiles I sometimes feel that the original meaning and purpose of smile is lost somewhere. One of the reasons for this artificiality can be attributed to academic and religious conditioning. A child who smiles at others is given constant reminders that it is a bad thing to do. He/she is warned that this habit may invite troubles.

I feel that a good smile will always fetch rich dividends. As teacher I have felt that there is some charisma when we walk into the class with a smile. A smile can act as a good ice breaker. Learners feel that the tutor is emotionally balanced and is approachable. Even in the work place I have felt that a smile and a handshake will create a positive ambience.

Literature, art and cinema have used the art of smiling as a motif or theme. One reference which I can think about is from the poem – My Last Duchess by Robert Browning.
Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whenever I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together.

I also would like to re-phrase the famous lines from Faustus by Marlowe where he describes the ethereal beauty of Helen

Was this the smile/ face that launched a thousand ships?
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.
My contention is if the face of Helen is so beautiful then what will be her smile like???

From the world of painting we have the famous smile of Mona Lisa. Is it really a smile or is it a smirk? Historians and art connoisseurs are still debating on that issue.

From the reel zone it is a movie titled Mona Lisa that grabs my attention. Julia Roberts plays an art teacher who inspires her students to think laterally. The tag line for the movie was – ‘In a world that told them how to think, she showed them how to live’. And it goes without saying that the smile of Julia Roberts is a treat by itself.

So in this world of conditioned smiles. It is always good to sport a natural smile and I am sure that it will make you and others feel better. The art of smiling will and should complement the art of living.

We cannot be like Albert Einstein who when requested for a smiling photograph gave this pose.

How long can a dreamer live????

Being a dreamer is not an easy thing. He/she lives in a different plain all together. A world removed from what the senses can perceive. Beings in the so called real world most of the times fail to recognise the world of a dreamer. They are all bitten by the reality bug. The only dream that they may believe in will be that of APJ Abdul Kalam's ignited dreams. I call myself a dreamer because that's the only identity that makes me complete. Dreams are very much related to risk taking and adversities. I believe that – to dream is to think off the beaten track. To be a path finder and also a path finder. I am reminded of the vision statement of the Jesuits when they started India's first management institute. If I remember correctly it was – 'renewing the face of the earth'. A dream nurtured by one Jesuit father has become a success story called XLRI. To have a dream for me is like having hope – something to which I can cling on. What is life if don't have dreams. I am talking about dreams which are unbridled and spontaneous. I also would like to make it very clear that dreams for me are not materialistic – like buying an Audi car or owning a posh flat in Indira Nagar, Bangalore. My dreams are more 'down to earth'.

Interestingly I also have asked my friends and colleagues about their dreams and they came out with some lovely dreams

One of my Tamilian friends wants to get married to a girl from Kerala.
One of my Andhra friends wants to get married to a fair girl because he is afraid that getting married to an Indian may turn his progeny into dark skinned beings.

Now talking about my dreams...

The first one is related to a person with whom I had spent a considerable amount of time – it is not just ordinary time I would like to call it 'quality time'. The person was my dream and still is.

The second dream is to do with my higher studies. As usual I got a dream topic. Everybody seems to criticise the very thought of it, but not me and the ones who love me.

The third is an extension of the third dream – a kind of fulfilling the practical side of the theory.

As I write this blog – I declare that I am born into this world only to accomplish these three dreams. I don't have any other dreams because I don't have any other life –

ONE LIFE / THREE DREAMS.

Learning English from a Newspaper

E from the title section – The details given next to the title of the paper can be used to prepare a short description of the paper. (Number of pages, price of the paper, place of publication, type of edition, date, one line description of the paper, the logo ( explanation), website address, etc) You can either prepare a document or you can ask questions based on the details given there.


E from The main stories -Headlines are given in the first sheet. Learner using the data prepares a document which will be later compared to the real news. Words are discussed and even an attempt is made to create a new and a personal headline.


E from the picture given in the main sheet -Learner is asked to describe the picture in his or her words. The individual descriptions are pooled in to create a group and finalized verbal picture of the picture.


E from the main headlines – a mock news reading session where the learner will play the role of a TV/ radio newsreader and reads out the headlines following the norms of a real news presentation. The same exercise is used to conduct a listening exercise where other learners will listen to the newsreader and make notes. There is also a possibility here i.e. after listening to the headlines they can share the news to their team members.


E from the news chunks – Each learner takes up a part of the news item given and reads it aloud to the class. As they read the hard words, spelling and linguistic details are discussed.


E from the main page - Creating a word list from the first sheet which will be later used for a word memory game.

Don - The Movie

Don is a flick done in perfection. Every frame is well-crafted and well-planned. Even though Lakshya was a disappointment after DCH, director Farhan Akthar presents a neat act as a director. All the ingredients of a good movie it is there. The script is powerful with the necessary twists and neat action sequences that spruce it up. Music by Sankar, Ehassan and Loy has got the power, especially the theme song ‘Main Hoon Don’ and the track labeled – ‘Aaj Ki Raat’.

With SRK delivering the best as the titular hero – Don, there are no complaints about this remake of the 1978 flick where ‘the long legged’ Amitabh Bachchan donned the role of Don. SRK is wonderful in the scene where he inspects the new recruit Roma played by Priyanka Chopra. The body chemistry between the two is too good. With the movie shot in Malaysia – Truly Asia – the scenic beauty is awesome. With neat and mature performances from Boman Irani and Arjun Rampal the movie is a good sample for the posterity to appreciate Bollywood. I think Om Puri is wasted in the film as the Interpol officer.

Management Lessons from a Circus Camp

What is Circus?

A circus is most commonly a traveling company of performers that may include acrobats, clowns, trained animals, trapeze acts, hula hoopers, tightrope walkers, jugglers, unicyclists and other stunt-oriented artists. The word also describes the performance that they give, which is usually a series of acts that are choreographed to music (Courtesy – Wikepedia).

The need to learn management lessons from circus:

Education should be made experiential. Circus mania has gripped the town of Tumkur. Students get a chance to see the performance and connect it to their academic topics. Management students can use the concept of circus as learning tool. This exercise is an extended activity that is beyond the classroom and aims to make MBA degree program more life and people oriented.

Marketing:
Brand sponsorship – Candyman.
Banners and Posters, Mouth Publicity.
Music through speakers, reachable 2-3 kms
Devotional songs to start with followed by film songs.
Market study – the sell-ability of the product.

The Art of Negotiation:
Internal Negotiation – Management and the members of the Circus Team.
External Negotiation – Management and Government Officials and the public.

A lesson in Team work:
Acrobatic performances – Co-ordination, Concentration, Trust.

The Message of Hard work:
Labourious hours spend in training the mind and the body.
Strict work pattern – three shows a day and day practice.
Exemplifies the axiom – Practice makes the act perfect.

Planning:
Transportation and Camping in a particular area.
Financial planning and programme planning – to keep the sustained interest of the
audience.

Laughter Therapy
A clown makes you laugh and this is good to remove stress.
Entertainment factor.

Time management:
Time is the real ring master.
Timing of acts especially acrobatic acts is very crucial
The start time and the end time are very important. If exceeded it may affect the next show.
Time/ being punctual is important factor for a manager/leader.

Well Within the Limits

What is this vacuum that seems to envelop me.
There is something waiting to break free.
The pain swells up and searches for a vent.
It is deep within and will burst my insides out

Sense of loss, meaningless and futile buried in the sands of time.
Entangled in the mental webbing of memories, within a frame.
Laughter and mirth is not a distant dream, it is near.
Waves of happiness beckon me to the future.

Satisfied, defeated and out smarted - the world puffs and spurts.
Make way, make way… The emperor of deception has landed.
Well-chiseled and well- crafted.

Intruding into the well being of the world.
Words lose their sound, meaning - their linguistic identity.

The Process of Writing

This is an attempt to describe the process of writing and the stages involved in it.



Scene or object:

The first stage refers to the external world of sights and sounds. A writer gets fascinated by this reality and is captivated by it. The external object can be a beautiful natural scenario or a flower. The writer in this first stage dons the role of an observer. He observes his fellow human beings and the world around him. Subjectivity plays a great part in this act of observation.

Senses:

The scene or the object of fascination can enter a writer’s mind through the five senses – hearing/smell/taste/touch and vision. These senses make the external reality to become an internal reality. There are varying degrees in which this senses can function. For example if a person is hungry, his olfactory organs will be in a state of high alert. If the same person is spending time in a silent environment then his/her auditory faculty will be sharper.

Impression or Perception:

The dictionary meaning of the word impression is something that stays in the mind, or a mental image of something or somebody. Some of the external realties that get transferred to the mind will leave a lasting impression on our minds. It will be imprinted in the inner recess of our minds. In my opinion this is an unconscious process. These impressions to a certain extent shape our perception about life.

Thoughts:

The impressions lie dormant in the mind. They find their way to the conscious level and become thoughts which to certain extent guide the writer.

Writing:

The thoughts appear in the form of writings either in a piece of paper or in a word processor. The writing can take any shape – it can be short story or a poem or even an essay.

Rewriting: The act of correcting, polishing, and sharpening the first draft.

To summarize the process of writing in a line -
(Scene/Object – Senses – Impression – Thoughts – Writing-Rewriting)

A Beautiful Morning...

It's a beautiful day

Sky falls, you feel like

It's a beautiful day

Don't let it get away

Lyrics courtesy - U2

The start of the day. It is like god flashing his flashlight on this world. Everything is lit up and people are touched by the sun rays. To a scientist the day is a result of some cosmological movements. For a man of literature or imagination the morning brings in a new beginning. There is hope and expectations. The removal of darkness and the entry of light symbolize the end of ignorance and ushering in of knowledge. People still feel the Promethean myth haunting them.

The warmth and brightness that a morning offers to you is a treat for your body and mind. You feel rejuvenated and you feel exuberant because of this natural therapy. I have sometime wondered why humans wish each other good morning. It is indeed a good custom which recognizes the goodness in a morning.

Media houses have exploited this concept of saying and wishing good morning in an extensive way. Most of the English news channels produce programs with titles like –
Good morning India, Day break, News in the morning, Morning coffee hour, The Morning Edition. The program also will include some health tips bordering on Yoga, Meditation, Thought for the Day, guest speaker and even daily horoscope. It is also good to compare this ‘war of small screen images’ with the habit of a middle class Indian who starts his day reading the morning newspaper with a steaming cup of tea or coffee. Radio channels too fight for this morning ‘air space’ with radio shows reminding you that it is a bright sunny day. Vidya Balan’s character in the second installment of the modern day cinema parable of Munnabhai hollers good morning and wakes up 'Amchi Mumbai'.

I am sure that in spite of the attempts made by the media to ‘pollute’ our morning. The joy of waking up from our bed to listen to the chirping of birds, to feel the warm sun rays caressing our skin will remain very much a customized experience.

Oh what a feeling

What a wonderful emotion

Yeah what a life

Counting my blessings and knowing

What a beautiful day

Lyrics courtesy - Chris Cagle

My Writing Graph

As a school going boy I had the habit of maintaining a journal. Initially it was a verbal record of the daily activities. I would like to name the act as scribbling. My journal writing became more focused and elaborate as I grew up. I started writing about the life around me, e.g People whom I have seen and met, places I have visited and events that I have witnessed. As time went by, I found myself writing more about the inside reality (mind) than the outside reality. The fears and insecurities of life and topics related to spirituality found a regular place in my journal.

As I prepare this rough sketch of the research proposal I am able to trace a pattern in my journal writing habits. It is quite interesting to note that I have approached my journal only in difficult situations. Whenever I faced a road block in my life, I was able to communicate my feelings to the inanimate friend - The Journal.

There are two instances from my life which I would like to quote to exemplify the above mentioned idea. The first one is connected to the death of our pet-dog Caesar. He was a Dachshund and due to his intelligence and loyalty he won our hearts. His death created a vacuum in our family. One day while traveling, I had an idea of writing something about him and soon I found myself writing a short story on him. I am still perplexed by the way the act of creativity happened. The title of the story was – He Came, He Saw and He Conquered Again. It was like paying a tribute to Caesar and his presence in our lives. The kind of emotional fulfillment that I experienced after the finishing the story was phenomenal.

The second was a more personal and painful episode………………..my writings became introspective. I was able to move on in life because my journal writing provided me a new perspective. It was not just my writings that helped me but also two books written by the theologian Philip Yancey. I immensely enjoyed reading and re-reading ‘What is so amazing about Grace’ and ‘Where is God when it hurts?’ by Yancey. His style of writing made me conclude that some writings when properly understood can help in the healing process of the mind.

Moving on to the academic part of writing, the dissertation for my Masters Degree was based on the writings of the African American author Alex Haley’s work – Roots. The book labeled under the literary genre of faction traces the ancestral roots of Haley to a village in Africa. Later when I did my M.Phil program, I did my thesis on yet another African American writer named Ralph Ellison. The title of the book was Invisible Man. In my opinion the African American writers saw their writings not just as a political tool for claiming their rights but also as an act of therapy. They used writing as means of getting out of the pain and anguish of their ‘painful’ race memory.

I became a teacher in the year 2001 and I was introduced to the exciting world of classrooms, blackboard and the young bubbling student life. To make myself better equipped as teacher I used to read a lot about the art of teaching and the life of teachers. Two significant books, which had a deep impact on me, was the book by E.B Braithwaite titled – To Sir, with Love and Teacher Man by Frank McCourt. Both these authors created in me a compassionate attitude towards my students.

As part of the English learning process I asked them to put down in the paper their linguistic problems. They found writing about their problems much easier than speaking about them. Stage Fright, Grammar, Spelling, Problems in Fluency are some of the difficulties they shared with me. Equipped with a proper understanding of my classroom psyche, I was able to create a need based curriculum based on their writings.

I always had a fascination about the working of the human mind. One of the reasons for this is the essay by Sigmund Freud titled – ‘Creative Writers and Day-Dreaming’. The fascination reached a fulcrum when I read about the French Psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan. I noted that the discipline of psychoanalysis became more structural with Lacan. According to Lacan ‘the unconscious is structured like a language’.

As a person who believes in the fact that real learning happens outside the classroom, I have always encouraged learners to come out with theatrical presentations. My first stage production was based on the Dairies of Anne Frank and the second was based on Shakespeare’s Macbeth. The first stage production explored the world of Anne Frank and the audience witnessed the fact that there were two Anne’s – One herself in flesh and blood and the verbal Anne which we can find in her writings.

Live Feed from B'lore City Station

I am seated inside a Tata Indicom web portal inside Bangalore city station.I am enjoying the attention that i am getting from the people who are walking outside the cafe.they are all curious to know about what is happening inside the cafe. the best expression is - 'sea of humanity'. Everybody seems to be in a hurry to maybe ' as the Indianised English expression goes - to catch the train. I think as an English teacher I should 'entrain' rather than catch it. it is very claustrophobic inside this place.I am signed up for one hour browsing time and i now i really regret it. This post is supposed to be a live one since i am writing what i am experiencing. Going back to the only thing/object that i can see around me - PEOPLE - I am simply wonderstruck about the number of people who are getting ready for their travel. Everybody has got a destination to reach. They are impatient and there is 'a peace of understanding on their face'.

On Rodin’s Thinking Man

Who is he and what is he thinking about? That’s the one chunk of question that flashes in my mind whenever I see the world famous sculpture of Auguste Rodin. The link on Rodin at Wikepedia says that Rodin wanted ‘to celebrate individual character and physicality’. I appreciate him for that attitude. He never compromised on his values and integrity. To quote once again from Wikepedia ‘Rodin was sensitive to the controversy about his work, but did not change his style’. He is indeed a non-conformist and the only literary parallel that I can think of is Shelly’s roaring West wind.
Now going back to the question in the beginning. What are thoughts run through the mind of the Thinking Man.?
Please note the fact that he is Nameless/Costumless. His lack of costumes enhances his individuality and his non-conformist attitude.

Some random thoughts that are running through the mind of the thinking man….

Maybe he is worried about his nakedness
Maybe he is thinking about thinking
Maybe he preoccupied with thoughts about his girlfriend.
Maybe he is worried about the sad plight of humanity
Maybe he is thinking about the flood/Tsunami victims
Maybe he is thinking about child labour.

CALICUT – CINEMA ZONES

Watching cinema in the theater is an activity by itself. In these days of pirated Cd's and DVD's the fun factor is restricted and limited. Gone are the days when there was a process involved in this act. I remember that I used to coax n cajole my parents to take us (me and bro) for a movie. In Calicut the cinema hall which we used to frequent was the Blue Diamond. Sadly, last time when I was passing through Mavoor Road I saw that Blue Diamond is no more there. A shopping mall is being constructed there.

The thousand memories of families in debris

Everything stirred by the greed for a few pennies

We used to have lovely dinner at Hotel Paris and move towards the theater. One of the last movies which we as family watched there was – Manichitrathazhu. Then I and brother watched a movie named – Summer in Bethlehem. That's it. I owe a lot to Crown theater which near the Town hall for kindling in me a taste for Hollywood cinema. The theater in the pre-independent era was used by the British as a ball-dance room. I don't exactly remember the number of movies that I have watched there. From 007 to Species, From Jurassic Park to Titanic…

The theater was more like a second home to me. I used to be a regular visitor for the first show which began at 6:30 pm. In one way the same theater created in me an interest for English songs. I think they have the best acoustics and any song played inside the hall was a treat to our ears. Crown still stands fresh in my mind for a person. If I remember correctly - his name was Govindan Kutty. When I saw him first he was something 60 years old. He even figured in the newspapers as a person who makes Calicut special by bringing the spirit called – Calicut-ism. (To be continued)

The Death and Rebirth of a Teacher

"...I find myself contributing to a longstanding, steadfast goal of mine: the constant betterment of me..." - Ayn Rand.

Words that inspire us. Here the thoughts are self-directed. It is very much personal. As a person who has worked in the so-called premiere institutions in south India (Loyola and MCC) I have felt that the organizational goals always scuttle the growth of the individual. I am reminded of the quote by Jean Jacques Rousseau which goes like this “Man is born free, but everywhere he is in chains”. The urge in the individual to react and do something for his own good is always repressed. Even if you decide to become the incarnation of a non-conformist you have little escape. You will be treated as the eye-sore of the institution.

After this tryst with my own academic fate, I have decided to follow a particular course action. Devote maximum working hours not for the institution but for myself. I think this I am doing not because of any animosity or ill-feelings towards the institutions which gave me my first footing in teaching. I also understood the fact that there is something known as the growth factor which is important for me and the institution and I also have learned the lesson that the institution grows even in spite of my contribution. I am not rebel but I would like to propel and project myself into the world of creativity and innovation.

On the Road Much Travelled

It is always good to meet somebody from the past.
It makes us aware of the fact that life is fast.

The memories - the Good and the Bad and the Ugly seems to last forever.

That’s one thing that gives life its power.


The roads that I have walked - sometimes with friends.

The battles that I have fought - sometime with foes.

Everything was a miasma - I have been walking through that.

The feelings about yesterday kept me alive - en-caged.

Did I fumble in the beginning - Never... Was I too humble?

People made the lamb a lion, roaring its anger at the rubble.

The echoes of which still reverberates in the dark slimy corridors of life.

Much intense, much painful, and much weak against the sharp logical knife.


This road much travelled has become slushy with stagnated beings
Jostling for a space, crashing against other bodies, leaning.
The exit road is blocked with entry points
Ruthless, unrealistic and unplanned
The road much travelled gets fragmented in the inner recess of the human mind.

The purpose of www.writingsofprem.blogspot.com

I vehemently feel that it is for myself. I write about my life and the experiences that I pass through in my life. After all the definition of a blog is – web log. This is my online diary. I really cannot comment on the life span of this diary. It depends on the availability of free internet connection and lots of free time. The blog, for me is a white board to scribble my thoughts. It kinda gives me a channel to vent my feelings. To write about certain aspects of life which I can never discus with my friends or family members. The Blog also performs the role of a mentor to me. It encourages me to write, follow a schedule and helps me in getting satisfaction or verbal catharsis.

I feel that the internet is the modern substitute for a wall. Earlier in the development of man we had our ancestors writing on the wall. These days’ teeny-boppers write using the web. So I am sure that writing will continue till the end of human existence, because writing is good for all those thought filled minds.

What they Don't Teach You at B-schools - Book Talk Script

What they don’t teach you at B-school.
Book talk Script

Introduction
Discussing the title of the book/ Relevance of MBA in India.

The Content:

MBA creates managers not Leaders.
The concept of Participative Leadership.
B-schools can’t teach you Intuition. (Knowledge filtering)
Data base of management practices.
Importance of Listening/ How to cope with failures.
Thrust on analysis not synthesis.
Let your heart decide your career not your wallet – (The myth of highest-paid-job-on-campus)
Try to find your own mentor.
Don’t climb the corporate ladder sacrificing – HONESTY/INTEGRITY/SINCERITY.
B-schools don’t teach you – Compassion and the power of Long Term Relationship.
Masters in Compassion rather than Much below Average
The world needs people who can think out of the box.
Two qualities that a placement officer seeks – Leadership / Communication skills.
The difficulty to align organizational goals with that of individual goals.
4+2 P’s = Product/Price/Place/Promotion – People / Pace
Pride/Passion/Results – If you have pride in what you do and if you do it with passion, results are sure to come your way.
MBA creates bloated ego’s – not aware of the ground realities.
The three essential skills for the corporate world – How to motivate people
How to influence them
How to get the best out of them.
MBA education creates dependency – Syllabus/Faculty/Marks.
Brevity – The art of being succinct
B-school does not encourage multi-tasking
To look beyond the clout of a CEO
The need to set Short term goals and Long term goals
The future belongs to people who see possibilities before they become obvious.
The fast changing world of business – Henry Ford
B-schools don’t teach you EQ and AQ
Campus removed from realities of life
There should be constant alumni interaction
Solid foundation in money matters
Finding passion in the job
Figure out what you enjoy doing and find plenty of people who will pay you to do it.
Need to develop local case studies
Be like the fruit rich tree which bends down (Humility)
Not just criticize but offer solutions as well.

Conclusion
Learning is a life long process.

Humane Writings - Newsletter from Libya

Please click on the image to read the newsletter

Please click on the image to read the newsletter

Second Issue of the Humane Writings

Please click on the image to read the news letter

Please click on the image to read the news letter

Calicut - FOOD ZONES

I was born in this city, but the city was not born in me. (Courtesy – Jesse Jackson speech I was born in the slum, but the slum was not born in me).

The city is the third largest in the state of Kerala and one pf the important business centers in North Kerala. I grew up in this town which has got a fantastic coastal line. I did my schooling at St Joseph’s Boys which is close to the Arabian Sea. Lunch break for me was the time to take a long walk through the beach road. I had a friend by the name Shimjith who always accompanied me in this afternoon jaunts. In Calicut the private buses are green in colour and I had some personal favorites depending on their speed and comforts. I and my family(mom,dad & bro) used to make regular trips to the sea shore on holidays. There is one Swami’s hotel where the specialty was hot and soft uppama. Other hotels which we used to haunt are – Hotel Paris near Palayam and Hotel Sagar near the KSRTC bus station. The former serves you good briyani and the latter was famous for its parotta.
Calicut has got one street which is always filled with people. The street is known as SM Street. The expansion of the letter SM is SWEET MARKET. A commercial street which never sleeps. At the beginning of this street there is a bakery called – Maharaja’s where you get the original Calicut Halwa. Unknown to many people there is a small café on top of this bakery which serves you Puri Masala and Coffee . (to be continued...)

Review of Man..an Awakening...

MAN-AN AWAKENING'

The play moved between the past and the present, the real and the imaginary. It took you from the present day school classroom to the war-stricken world of Anne Frank. It transported you from happiness to sorrow, from despair to hope. In the end, it really moved you.
'Man-an awakening', the first theatrical enterprise of Theatre Beings of Madras Christian College (MCC) was a ringing success, if the sustained applause of the packed audience in Anderson Hall, MCC, was any indication. Theatre Beings were able to produce their first play within six months of the formation. This theatre group comprises a dedicated team of theatre-loving students and teachers of MCC.
The play, which began at 6 pm on Friday, the 20th February 2004, lasted for over an hour during which time eighteen young actors performed their roles to perfection. 'Man…an awakening' was not conventional, least of all its stage. The entire hall was the stage, with some of the scenes even enacted among the audience and from the galleries above.

The play revolves around the life of Anne Frank (well enacted by Midhu James), the young German-Jewish girl, whose diary written during the Second World War poignantly relates her tragic story. A young school Boy (Ajay Kuruvilla) of today, who reads her diary is fascinated by her life. He is drawn into her world by a Mad Man (Amit Naik) and the Man’s silent alter ego (Jenny Mary Mathew), and we see scenes from Anne’s life through the Boy’s eyes, while he questions his existence and the world around him.
One of the memorable scenes in the play was the final one between Anne and her love Peter (Aswin Sridhar), enacted from opposite galleries. Another was the one which had Anne with two flower garlands symbolizing her sister Margot and Peter, where she achingly cries out at the world’s injustice: “If freedom is torture, then let that freedom die!”
Apart from the actors, what transformed the play into a brilliant success were the sound and the lighting, along with the sets and the projector (which showed several scenes from world and civil wars).
The sound and music was ably handled by Anand Kurien and Benjamin Mathew, while the lights were controlled by Ayben, Srikanth and Varun Aiyer. The props were unusual and even included battery torches and a bullock cart.
The script was original, penned by Varun Aiyer, Lincy Jacob and Midhu James. The credit for direction went to Varun Aiyer. The gifted young man was guided by Aswatthama Jd, an expert from New Delhi’s National School of Dramatics, with over twenty years of theatre experience.
Premjith Mathew of the English department was the staff-in-charge, who also was in charge of organizing and managing the various committees involved. He was assisted by Benjamin Mathew and Joshua Rozario, and an enthusiastic offstage crew.
Except for a few glitches at the beginning, the play ran smoothly. Its exceptional success heralds more innovative and enjoyable experiments in theatre by the Theatre Beings.

My name is Bond...Ruskin Bond

He is one author whom I admire not just for his writings but also for his solitary existence. He lives a life of a mystic. A life of a recluse. I am tempted to compare him to the neighbor in Mending Wall by Frost. The exact line is - ‘I let my neighbor know beyond the hill’ Ruskin bond lives in the hill station of Dehardun. He is a living monument left by the British. His books are examples of verbal paintings something what Turner did using paint and brush. I doubt, whether an Indian can capture India like the way Bond did. My first taste of this green literary landscape was when I did one of his short story in my under graduation. The title of the story was – Night Train at Deoli. It is about a railway station, a boy and a girl and the forest that is behind the station yard. There is only one word to describe the story – Haunting. It is only after shifting to Chennai to pursue my masters that I started my journey through the Bond-ian literary terrain. The journey was little difficult at first but after that I was able to identify with the author and his mindscape. I should thank British Council and Ric videos for giving me the regular – verbal and visual feed on Ruskin Bond. I read most of his Nature writings and also watched the movie version of his book – Flight of the Pigeons. I am sure in the days to come. I will encounter this author again and that will be a memorable one.

A Verbal Picture of Myself

Can a photo speak? Even if it can, will it tell the truth? I have 'seen' a book titled People Watching by Desmond Morris. The book claims that we can understand a person by just looking at his/her body language. Another book worth quoting is ‘How to Read a Person Like a Book’ co-authored by Gerard I. Nierenberg, Henry H. Calero. As a teacher I can easily read my the mind of students by just looking at them. This helps me to design my classroom tactics according to the 'pulse' of the audience. Now coming back to the question of getting to know a person looking at his photo is something which we all should try doing. You are welcome to post your comments on my photo, which is pasted here for a sample test. Lets see whether you succeed in your evaluation of my snap and know me by just looking at my photo. Happy Reading...

Creative Question Papers

Teaching is my profession. I derive immense pleasure from this act which also fills the creative cavities of my brain. Apart from teaching and the classroom interaction I like to design question papers. Below you will find some questions that I had designed for part two English students at MCC.

Question # 1:
Too much love will kill you, if you can't make up your mind
I'm just the shadow of the man I used to be
I used to bring you sunshine now all I ever do is bring you down
How would it be if you were standing in my shoes
Can't you see that it's impossible to choose
Now there's no making sense of it
Every way I go I'm bound to lose,
And you won't understand why, you'd give your life
But here it comes again
Too much love will kill you
In the end...
Too much love will kill you, just as sure as none at all
It'll drain the power that's in you, make you plead, and scream, and crawl
And the pain will make you crazy; you're the victim of your crime
Too much love will kill you every time

Read the lyrics of the song ‘Too Much Love Will kill you’ (Queen) and compare it with the last line of the poem Mending Wall (Robert Frost) – ‘Good fences make Good Neighbours’

Question # 2:

Robert Frost tells us that he first he stood, then he looked and finally he took the road less travelled. Explain the meaning of the words stood, looked and took in the context of the poem – The Road Not Taken.

Question # 3:

Heal the worldMake it a better placeFor you and for meAnd the entire human raceThere are people dyingIf you care enough for the livingMake a better place For you and for me (Michael Jackson- Heal the World)


Did you ever stop to notice
All the blood we've shed before
Did you ever stop to notice
The crying Earth and the weeping shores? (Michael Jackson – Earth Song)


Wild rivers and waterfalls I can hear the planet call show a little respect Beautiful to everything that is beautiful and if you want to save it all show a little respect (MLTR – Animals)

Based on your reading of the above quoted lyrics.Preapre a short but sensible paragraph on the need of preserving and protecting the earth/ environment and showing respect for all life forms.
You can use the essay authored by Jane Goodal as textual reference

Creativity is my teacher
Me, the humble learner
Muse inspires me to flourish
That’s one thing that I cherish

Books - Verbal Jaunts

'Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend,inside of a dog its too dark to read '

Groucho Marx

Books are my friends, the characters in a story are my mentors and the author is my role-model. Returning from that bookless, library-less world of Libya. I plunged myself into the universe of reading. The first book on which I could lay my hand was by J.M Coetzee. In 2005 I have read one of his work titled Life and Times of Michael K. I found that book was moving and deeply humane. So this time when I saw Coetzee on a library shelf (waiting to be devoured) I never had any second thoughts. Thus I started reading BOYHOOD. A poignant portrayal of a South African childhood.

The book contains two main binary oppositions -

The cultural ego-clash between Afrikaans and the so-called English life.
The religious animosity between Catholics and Protestants

I want to write a book on my childhood..it will be fun..i am sure..

Dreams are what we have
In this world, a dark cave
A dream is not something that happens when you are asleep
It is something which will never let you sleep

A Flower that bloomed in Winter...

After a gap of maybe three or four months I was able to chat with a person from my yesteryears. It was one of those rare moments in life when you feel the blood rush into your veins and arteries. Even you mouth may go dry. Anyway I was happy and excited. Thanking god for this rare encounter.
It may not happen again for the next three to four months.

My love blooms once in a year
I sleep in a valley of tears
Cuddled up in my own world
Never uttering a word
Vibrations have ceased
My mind is in a disturbed peace

Libyan Diary - Part Three

Hello friend…

It has been a while since I recorded my thoughts on Libya. Doing so while living in that land had been a difficult task. I was fully submerged in the cultural and social ethos of that country. Experience after experience fed into my mouth. Sometimes it was more than what I could chew. Most of the times I suffered from indigestion and uneasiness. As I write this third diary I fondly remember the response, you had given me for the first two write-ups on Libya. The only difference this time is that I am writing this episode from my hometown in India. I am somewhat free these days. Please do not think that I using my time in a constructive way by writing this piece. It is the sheer force of memories that made me sit and type this mail today. I have not told you about the seamy side of my life in Libya. It is one part of my life which I am trying to forget, so please do not expect me to elaborate on the details. I have gone through myriad experiences, which will never have any impact on your life. It is somewhat foolishness to share pain with others because your sorrows are your own. They are NOT a public limited company. I am writing this to calm myself and to tell you that this was my life plus the lessons that I learned.

I expected to learn a lot about when I reached Libya. New culture and new people. All that I learned from Libya was about India. It is true that we will compare the new culture with something, which we are already familiar with. Therefore, the immediate reference for Indians in Libya was India. It began with food and most of the time ended with woman. I still remember one doctor friend of mine making a remark comparing Indian women and Libyan women. According to him, Indian women had a special quality, which the Libyans greatly lacked. To describe that quality he used the word – Femininity. I am still puzzled at this description and I have stopped thinking about that.

The initial few months in Libya was a BPL (Below Poverty Line) existence. Everybody saving dinars as Libyans saved water in the Sahara desert. For me it had been a wonderful learning experience. With whatever the amount the University gave, I purchased a laptop. It was like buying a dream from a shop. I was so possessive about my first laptop that I never allowed a second person to touch it. I never saw the mischievous smile that was there in God’s face. Exactly four months after I purchased the laptop, it was stolen one day. It happened on a Sunday. Sundays in Libya never used to have the romantic touch that we usually associate with Sundays in India. To describe Indian Christian Sundays in four words (Church/Heavy lunch/afternoon nap/Evening tea plus Sunday movie in television). I along with my friend was at the police station filing a complaint for the lost laptop. We had two Libyans with us to translate English to Arabic. That night my mind and body was in state of numbness. I was able to measure the degree of attachment I had with my Laptop. The song by Queen – ‘Too Much Love Will Kill You’ and the poetic lines ‘Good fences make Good neighbours’ kept me awake that night.

On one side, my fellow Indian friends were drowning in the financial whirlpool and on the other side I was trying to cope with the loss of a material thing. I did receive kind words of encouragement and support from people around me. Some were from the heart and others from the throat. I learned two main lessons from this incident.

Never be attached to anything in this world – animate or inanimate – I appreciate the romantic poets for coining the word – Negative Capability. The concept of hating and loving the same thing.

People and the emotions they shower upon you, need not be genuine. They can act and react in umpteen ways, which will make Al Pacino a pygmy.

That’s all for the time being
I will be back with some more stories about my life in Libya. I have many topics to cover

Some sample topics:
How I survived an attempt on life and property?
Can Jealousy turn a Man into a Hooligan?
An Arabian tale of Communism
Money, Money, Money- It is so funny for Indians in Libya.


With love and respect
Prem

Rajasthan Diary

Hello friend;

Date is 4-01-2005. Tonight I decided to create this small but detailed log of my travel. I came back from the land of deserts and camels this evening. I am aware that I am tired but something in me tells me that I should write this and share with you things that have happened in my life for the past 8 days. I will write about a Rajasthan that I have experienced. Sometimes my rambling may run into the wilderness of confusion and boredom so please try to adjust with my wordy jugglery. I along with my team members (Roy and Athi) left Chennai on the 26th of December. It was a terrible day for many people. Tsunami created fear both in the minds of the people and on the land. I received three frantic calls from Maijo+ fly who had ventured out of the hotel to see the Crocodile Park.(I told him in a humorous way that there is no need to go out to see the aquatic creatures and asked him to wait for one more day so that they will reach the hotel lobby). They came back to their rooms since their driver refused to take them beyond a certain point on East Coast Road. Even my team member’s fly members were anxious about the fact that the train travelled through the coastal line. However, keeping our trust in God and Laloo Prasad Yadav we started our much dreamt and anticipated journey to Rajasthan.

I considered myself lucky to travel with two individuals who were coming from the security of their homes. The Mother Factor (‘sharing, caring, loving pieces of ghee’ that is how I describe over emotional moms) came to our rescue in the sense that my co-travellers were equipped with chapattis and rotis made to last for two days. All these were done so that we eat good home-prepared food. Therefore, from Chennai to Jaipur pantry car was a distant dream. Nevertheless, we were as hungry as the tsunami, which voraciously licked the shores of India. Food items started flowing in from the stations from Nagpur we had Vadilal ice cream, cold lassi and oranges.

We reached Jaipur on the 28th morning. The sight, which welcomed us to Jaipur, was the ‘yellow fields’. It was indeed a great spectacle to see the yellow flowers dancing in the morning sun. They reminded me of the ‘tujhe dekho tho ye janna sanam’ song from DDLJ. I really do not remember the name of the crop but know that they make oil out of those flowers. Our fourth team member (Joshua) who is from Ajmer was at the station to receive us. Checked into a budget hotel, refreshed ourselves. It was not that cold. It was more like Bangalore in November. After all the necessary preparations like charging the camera batteries and cell phones, we set out to explore the city. As we travelled through the heart of the city, we saw the prominently placed statue of Sawai Jai Singh the founder king of the city. Our first pit stop was the Albert hall, which was the museum and the art gallery.

Nothing caught my attention inside the hall. The so-called social fabric of Rajasthan was presented in different ways. Outside the museum, there is a place where people feed the pigeons. It was indeed a very appealing sight. One brilliant moment was when I saw a little child dart into the flock of pigeons, which made them all to take a swift flight and come back to the same area for more food. Birla Mandir was another place where I could see many pigeons. Wherever they sat, they left their imprint in the form of faeces. Inside the mandir, there was a unique but overflowing silence. The place was an excellent example of the so-called secular imago of the Indian sub-continent. Therefore, there was Christ, Ram and Krishna ‘imprisoned’ in the same pillar.

Right from the moment I reached Jaipur, I was searching for the colour pink. Because I have heard that, the city is known as the Pink City. It’s only after the conversation I had with our driver that I realised that it is only a part of the city that is covered in pink. This part of the city is also walled and had very strong link with the royal past of Rajasthan. Inside the Pink city, we saw Hawa Mahal or ‘the palace of winds’. The 5-storyed stunning semi octagonal monument had 152 windows. Our driver old us that it was originally designed for the royal women to catch the cool breeze on a hot day and enjoy the processions and other activities, on the streets below.

After travelling through the busy streets of Jaipur, we reached Jaal Mahal. This is an exquisite construction in the City of Jaipur.A huge lake with a royal building exactly at the center of it. As I was engrossed in scanning the building that was in a dilapidated condition, I heard a soothing tune. I turned my head in that direction and I could see one small girl wearing Rajasthani dress dancing to the tunes of a musical instrument. I do not have words to explain the joy I had listening to that piece of music that was so pure to the ears. The instrument was a tribal one (don’t remember the name) and the old man who was playing that was doing so for a livelihood. It was near the Jaal-mahal I tasted the big papad, which they sell for three rupees. It was so big that four of us had a tough time finishing it. We also had garama-garam tea along with it. As I left the precincts of Jaal-mahal. I could see the little girl and the old man trying to sell their goods to a foreigner.

It is only when we ate the papad we realised how hungry we were. We did not have a proper breakfast, because the theme of our trip was ‘minimal investment and proper commitment’. Lunch beckoned us. Landed in a restaurant, which served original Rajasthani food. I decided to try some Rajasthani Thali.
(In Rome, I should eat like a Roman.)
Roti (unlimited)
Pyas (onion pieces sprinkled with lemon juice)
Hari mirchi (green chilly)
Chawal
Gobi curry
Daal
Big pappad
For the above food items like a maharaja, I paid 50 rs

Post lunch session we headed towards the Amber fort. From a distance, the fort looked splendid. A moat encircled the fort. 25 years back the moat contained ferocious crocodiles. When the British army invaded the area, it seems they had to aim their cannons on these creatures before they could attack the fort. After witnessing the interiors of the fort, which was as crowded as T-nagar Ranganathan Street, we returned to the heart of the city of Jaipur.Had some kachori and kebab which was our dinner. Somebody suggested that we go for a movie. Thus, we all got into an auto and soon found a place in the theatre watching the latest Sharukhkhan movie Swades. There ended our first day and night in the state of Rajasthan.

Here ends the story of the first day. There remains the experience of seven more days to tell and like the Arabian nights, they are equally enchanting and enriching. I promise to tell you the remaining story when we meet next time. Camel ride, ethnic delicacy-Daal Bati, New Year eve at Ajmer, evening with JD in his farm, the beautiful sunset at Mount Abu, and the return journey. Let there be a willing suspension of disbelief.
Take care
Bye
Premjith Mathew

Libyan Diary Part Two

Dear friend
This is the part two of my writings based on my life in Libya
Hope you will enjoy reading it
Season’s greetings
Hello friend
Writing to you has become a pleasure and the pleasure seems to increase when there is a critical and creative feedback from your side. As I look through the window of my home in Libya I see the endless rows of olive trees. Libya is one of the leading nations which exports olive oil. I sometimes wonder how these people succeeded planting all these trees in the so – called desert land. To the East of the place I live is the Sahara desert (maybe some 1000 kms). It is one my plans to go for a desert ride and a camp fire. I heard that there are tourist packages from Tripoli. The program includes journey in a desert friendly vehicle (maybe a Range-rover), and night stay in the desert. The real fun and the reason why most people go to the desert safari is the cultural program that is organized at night which includes the rib- tickling 'belly dance'. I heard that the belly dancers are 'imported' from Egypt- the place where the dance form originated. It is a dance form where the pelvic area is the only part that takes an active part in the dancing. Gyrating the hips and legs are also part of this dance. It may sound easy but in reality it is difficult. There are also some rumours doing the rounds that there are plans to introduce belly-dancing in some of the five star hotels in Tripoli. To talk about the entertainment acts of this country – the only thing people do is to smoke cigarettes and the hookah. Even though these two activities may appear highly sexual and hence Freudian, this sums up the pleasure quotient of a Libyan. People engage themselves in discussions at cafes and hotels filling their lungs and the room with holy smoke. The only TV channel that this people blindly follow is Al-jazeera which was infamous for its connections with Osama. I really like watching that channel because of its quality programmes and their cute and sexy newsreaders. In Libya like any other Arabic countries, pornographic channels are easily available. The satellite which provides these channels is called Hotbird. In most of the homes they are against the idea of keeping a satellite dish because of this. There is also another satellite which is called Blue Nile that caters to the family audiences.
With my three and half a month experience of this place I have discovered one more entertainment activity of these people. Marriage and marriage and marriage. The reason why I typed the word three times is to show you, my dear friend the number of times these people get married. A man who is 50 years of age will at least have 3 wives. Now to you....this may appear very strange but in Libya the status of a man is measured in terms of his willingness and financial status to take wives. For a woman it is based on the number of offspring's she can produce. I have a friend who is very eager to get married. He is working in an oil company and is in his early 30's.In Libya for a man to get married he should possess a house , a car and 20,000 Libyan dinars.Because of this it is difficult for a man to get married. Somehow I think that this is a good custom which makes man really aware of the importance of a woman. I still don't understand why Islam is criticized for its anti-feminine stand. So my friend is searching for a bride and he sometimes comes to the college under the pretence of meeting me and looks at the girls in the campus. I hope that very soon he will get a bride and they both will live happily forever. Marriage ceremony as such in Libya is something which will extend for 2-3 days. The most interesting part of the marriage is the night time activity of taking the bride or the bridegroom around the city. As the procession of 10-12 cars move they make lot of noise by honking horns and singing songs...my dear friend I have never seen such vigour and happiness in my life. Most of the marriages happen in the month of December. The winter season according to Libyans is the right time for mating. There is a proverb in Arabic which when translated will be like this – 'In winter the young get married and the old goes to Mecca'.
Marriage feast include food items that will surely delight the taste buds in our tongue. Rice, Chicken shiva, Tamia, Shaberma and lots of fruits makes up the food-menu of a marriage. I want to tell two interesting things about marriage in Libya. I have a friend in Tripoli who is helping his father to run a coffee shop in Al-Fateh towers (something like Spencer plaza in Chennai). One day after having some refreshments from that shop, I quizzed him about his family and in a quite normal way asked him how may brothers and sisters he has got. I was taken aback when he replied that he has got 14 brothers and 6 sisters. Seeing the amazement on my face he added with a tinge of shyness – 'My father has got three wives'. After one week I heard from another friend that the size of a Libyan house is determined by the size of the family i.e. the number of wives and children who live in that house. For example when a person is getting married for the first time he will have a house with just the ground floor, then as he takes the second wife, he will construct one more floor for the new bride and a second floor if he going for the third one. One my favourite pastime here is to look for houses which have got the maximum number of floors. So far I have seen four. After a particular point, the wives will all come and live together in one floor with their daughters who have attained puberty. The male children are not supposed to see their own sisters. Some kind of method which prevents them from committing incest.
I am sure that by the time I write my next Libyan diary i.e. the third part I would have collected more information about the topic of marriage.
So here I am saying goodbye in English and I look ahead to meet you, amigo with some special topics like Arabic music and campus life (wow – that will be a must read for you all)
Bye
Prem