The Psychology of Blogging

There is no reason for me to believe that what I write in this blog is good for reading. It can be attributed to the lack of comments or the lack of confidence in my own writing. Still I write. I keep on writing and that forces me to think on the real reasons for my obsessiveness on blogging. The more I think about it, the more I am becoming clear.

First of all, it allows me to speak up. There are painful experiences from the past. There are mistakes committed that taught priceless lessons. There are disturbing tales of the present. There is wisdom achieved over time. There are messages of caution. Fears for the future. And above all emotions -- happiness, sorrow, anger, disgust, fear -- that would break me unless I take it out of my heart. Hence I discharge. Probably that is the most pleasurable activity in this world (in all respects).

Secondly, it makes me to improve on a language, English, that I haven't mastered yet. Every day a new word is pushed to my inbox by one of the internet sites and even if I do not remember the 365 words, I would definitely learn at least 50 words a year. Writing, and fear of others reading it, polishes my skills on the use of the language.

Third I must consider the good intentions of passing on the wisdom. Everybody has it. As the proverb says, "Learning from others is wise". So if there are wise people out there, they are always welcome.

Last but not least, it is the satisfaction of somebody saying good or bad about your words; your thoughts. Not necessarily the comments. True responses. Responses triggered not because of obligation or with the intention of getting publicity. Probably it reminded them of their childhood. Possible that it allowed them to take a wiser decision. Or it could have inspired a greeting or a "thank you" card or "get well soon" wish or "I love you" message.

Blogs have made this world to shrink and allowed us to express and expand. It saved us from the boredom of emails and enhanced the power of thinking. In September 2005, a google search took me to a lost friend Nandhan bhai and introduced me to this beautiful world of blogging. From then onwards, I could see this world from many perspectives; thanks to the historian of Kodakara for his witty and simple narrative style, thanks to the creative discussion on kids and parenthood triggered by this blog from Kuttiedathi , thanks to Achinthya for inspiring me to write this post through one of her comments and the command of the English language I found in her blog. And of course, thanks to the numerous bloggers for their blogs and comments in these and other ones I have not seen yet.

Keep going! Keep blogging!

Excuse Me!

I am an opportunist. Otherwise I would not have come back to nonvegetarian food at the very first opportunity. I embraced vegetarianism and continued it for almost two years not because of my hate toward nonvegetarian food. To put it simply, my lover was a vegetarian and I wanted to show my support for her eating habits. Having proved that I can live without it, circumstances where it is difficult to get vegetarian food or where it is costlier than its counterpart made me to come back with more willingness than my eagerness to go the other way. One prominent writer had pointed out that there is not enough vegetable in this world to feed the nonvegetarian community. Too good not to believe, right?

For some people who do not agree to killing human beings, there is an excuse for the killing of animals for food. And even those who do not eat nonvegetarian food will have an excuse for killing ants or insects. Antibiotic prescriptions kill the viruses or bacterias that otherwise would kill you. Its survival of the fittest and opportunism at its very best. There is an excuse for every act we think is justifiable. People do think differently. For some, killing ants is not a problem; for
some, killing chicken is not a problem; for some, killing his siblings is not a problem. The triangle of Death, Decay and Life says that decay is the beginning of all life.

Watching the movie "Achanurangatha Veedu", a disturbing but original tale of the tragedy of a family (hence the society), I could not help myself from thinking. So I gave it more than one thought. Bible says "Not on your merits but on his grace". My journey to find out the true meaning of life continues in this world of vegetarian and non-vegetarian food, antibiotics and pesticides, rape and murder, love and passion. Like everybody, I have excuses for my each and every action. You might say that I am wrong. You have reasons for the same. What did I say? Give it a second thought, my dear!

Just because the nurse brought me to the hands of my father or grand mother, I was born as a Hindu. An error from the nurse or doctor could have easily made me to a Christian or Muslim, if birth was the only criterion. Then, my mother could have been my aunt or neighbour, my sister could have been my wife, my brother could have been just my neighbourhood friend who wo
uld later stab me because of the distinct politics we follow. We followed it not because of our knowledge or any policy. It was just because our parents followed it. If there were only one man and a woman from which this earth evolved, everybody are relatives. Then each marriage is incest. To reject that theory, we must have excuses. I remember the pledge that was repeated with atmost indifference, trying to escape from the morning sun, every day at school; "India is my country. All Indians are my brothers and sisters".

Goodbye to a Banyan Tree!

I was standing on the concrete steps that lead to the river, Bharatapuzha, in Thirunavai temple. It was the beginning of June in 2003. A few feets away, between the temple and the steps, stood a giant banyan tree with its huge shades protecting the whole place like a knight. A bunch of bats were hanging on its branches and from a distance it looked like a torn black umbrella. With whatever little water flowing in a multitude of branches, courtesy to a delayed rainy season, the river looked like a painting of the banyan tree on a sand canvas. Brown broken pieces of small clay pots were spread all over the sand like shattered dreams. Above my head the sun was shining; behind the leaves and countless bats that looked like souls on their way to eternity but unwilling to leave and holding on. The air was pleasantly cool filled with the fragrance of flowers and the aroma of burning incense sticks. A soothing devotional song played in the background occasionally interrupted by the chime of bells from the temple. Few feets below and away on the small islands of sand surrounded by water that goes only up to knees, there were two three lines of people with wet clothes offering the last rites to their beloved, repeating whatever was told by the priest in sanskrit. Few understood the meaning.

It was the tenth day after his soul had left the body. Each day rituals were carried out at home but crows, representatives or messengers from another world, stayed away. The mixture of sesame, flower, water, banana and rice was conveniently offered to fish in an unused well as alternative to the crows after each unsuccessful wait. The absence of crows to accept the offering left a bad taste but it was not unexpected for more than one reason. Till that day, celebrations were given a break and non-vegetarian food was prohibited. And from next day onwards, life would flow freely till death comes. The neighbourhood had already come back to normality. The border lines of happiness and sorrow was too narrow and undefined like the absence of crows.

The bottom of the river where it meets the steps was made deep enough for a dip. The wet towel that used to be around my waist for the last 10 days would be worn across the chest during the rituals. Immediate relatives of the deceased including siblings and their sons and daughters were lined in a half-seated posture. On a piece of banana leaf, each of us offered balls of a mix of rice, flower, sesame and water in between prayers. It was give-back time. The difference was that both of us were alive when he was feeding me. It was tasty too. I knew that mine was not. Understanding my helplessness, I offered my tears. Like all times, he would definitely know.

The small clay pot that contained the ashes would be buried in the sand, as opposed to my belief that it would be floated. The search was on to find a place on the sand; a place clean and unused. The remains, the portion of it that was brought, was buried near a spot that would be insignificant from the moment we turn our back. On this bed of sand, near this sacred temple, there is no difference among human beings, reduced to ashes, on any grounds. They all rest in peace and harmony while the living ones will go back to fight for the materialistic world. Next to that small island of sand, the upper edges of the shades of the banyan tree met a channel of water. In the relection, well below the surface of water, the leaves and bats were hugging and shaking hands as if telling good byes.

A Fine Answer!

What is the most used three word sentence in English? Well, you know about two words and I don't want to write about it. Is it 143 (One Four Three that stands for the number of letters in I Love You) or 333 (Triple Three that stands for How Are You)? I would bet on the latter as I feel that love (as opposed to romance or sex) is a phenomenon that is rarely found these days. And to make things better, I also think that meaninglessness has found a meaning above all in this current world. So I would give my votes to that little sequence of words we use it quite often with all true sense but purpose.

Being the first set of words that would start a conversation even among strangers, How R U has become so common that the answer to it is almost known and hence any other reply is not expected. It is useless to answer anything different because nobody is really interested. It could be part of courtesy but it could pass for fraudulence too. In this context, it was natural for me to get interested in the answers to this lovely useless enquiry!

Consider this reply which is the most common. "Fine! Thank You". Or is it "Fine Thank You!"? Probably the second. Saying thanks is a quality that is found among most people. Because it is easy to 'say thanks'. And it ends there. So a polished (fine) 'thank you' can easily pass as a reply to the three word buzz 'How r u'. Or to make it better, give it a shot like 'Fine! Thank You and You?'. The ball is in other party's court and having answered the obvious a smile comes to our lips. Let's listen to what party B has to say. "I am Good". That is selfishness. He is saying that he is good and rest are not. Or is it that "I am doing Good"? Probably. I am happy that I am doing good and I would be better if others are not because that makes me feel good.

"Better", says a confident lot. A better answer to escape from the monotony.

"Not Bad" is not a bad answer as it keeps "Bad" as the benchmark. An expected reply from the pessimistic.

"Okay!". Here comes the perfect one who says he is not yet mad.I am okay and I will tell you if I am not. So send me to the mental hospital when I say otherwise.

"Usual!". I have been telling you everyday the same and today is not different. Why do you ask me?

I know that it is crazy. But then this a crazy (and unfair too) world. Lets accept it and go on. That brings me to my favourite reply.

"No Complaints!"

Rank: A Curse and Burden

I got the intimation from Calicut university just when I was about to wind up my Masters in IIT Madras (Chennai) by the end of Nov 1998. I was surprised because I had said good bye to Calicut university exactly three years before. But then these are expected from a system where delay is the order. The letter and a certificate informed me that I am the first rank holder of Computer Science and Engineering batch, 1995. When my father's younger brother told that we would publish it in newspapers, I said No. I knew that there was no significance. I knew that there were equal or better performers. It was no mean feat with 4 years of hard work especially when I was down for almost a year with a series of surgeries in 1993. But ranks are not significant. It just says that the candidate is a potential performer. Just like others. Probably I was a bit more patient, spent a little bit more time in finishing up the portions, wrote the answers in a bit more detail without skipping a single question. That's it. The marks came along and rank was simply a byproduct.

A few years back, I got a call from home telling me that my cousin (Raji Sivaraman), father's sister's daughter, has the 13th rank in the SSLC list. Incidentally, she had broken a record I had set for SSLC examination in my village and that was sweet. Did I ever inspire her to study so hard? Did I ever inspire a single person from my village to work hard to achieve heights? Did I ever inspire anybody to take on life as it comes? If yes, that's the most important thing in my life than a mere typewritten certificate. A rank is not an end. It's just a beginning. A beginning of more hardship to come in the never ending pursuit of truth in this journey of life.

It brings a smile when I hear about the tension of parents on the date of publishing the results or the kind of circus they do to get a spot in the first three in competitions. I am lucky that I did not have such parents. I am happy that my parents allowed me to study the way I wanted. I am glad because they encouraged reading and also allowed me to help in their work. I am thankful to God that I did not get the toys I wanted, I had only a limited set of dress to change so that I was never confused on what to wear, I always liked the food and found it tasty because it was not unlimited and was available only when the time came. So nobody will be surprised if I tell that I knew about the Engineering entrance examination results during a lazy morning walk on the way back home after buying meat on one of those festival occasions. A school teacher who is just blocks away from my home called me to inform that the results had come. He showed more interest than self to search for my number and it is people like him of Mundathikode village, my wellwishers, who had instilled confidence during my early stages of life.

Recently I heard that the education ministry in Kerala has decided to change to a grade system in 10th standard than the old rank system. It is one of the good decisions that will make life better for many students. I always had my doubts on the rank system. How can somebody be possibly said of holding first rank when the second or third rank holders are only one or may be half marks behind. It is not fair because we are comparing apples and oranges. The circumstances are not same and that is the reason why I oppose it. For example:

1. It is possible that the rank holders are from two different schools where different set of environments exist forlearning.
2. The teachers who taught the students could be skilled differently and some credit goes to them too.

3. Parents of the student do play a role. The equation is not same with a well educated couple and somebody who have not even finished preschool.

4. What about a headache or a health condition that makes it bad for the candidate on the day or around?

5. What if somebody dies in the family? Where is the weightage for time lost/psychological condition?

6. What about the mental condition of the teacher who is evaluating the paper? What if there was a big fight at home before he/she starts evaluation?
I can think of a lot of points in these lines to prove that grade system is better than a rank system. I wish good luck to the new system. Recently I heard from my wife, who incidentally is the second rank holder of EE 1996 batch from Kerala university and the first rank holder of PSC lecturer examination, that one main reason for her to like me was the rank I mentioned before. What a shame? Good that her reasons had changed in the years after marriage. I love her for not considering the ranking in the society, a curse still happens to rule (even educated mind). I just hope that our daughter loves us for the parents we are and not for the burden we hold.

Word of the day : Pretension!

Thanmathra is one of the better movies I have seen recently and surely the best among the recent offers from Malluwood. It is a movie with a soul. At least the comment would not be: "What bad karma did I do in my previous birth to watch this movie today"! For that matter, please do not expect a review here. The movie, I thought, has perfection in most frames and so when I heard that one scene just before the interval was taken off due to pressure from family viewers, I felt bad. It was a bedroom scene with the characters Ramesan nair and his wife (played by the versatile Mohanlal and Meera Vasudevan) silhouetted against the wall in blue light. It was a brilliant work but had to be censored, after showing it in theatres for some time, at the request of an egoistic and pretentious family audience. Just when I thought that the golden Bharathan touch was coming back by one of the disciples of his comrade Padmarajan, it was uprooted by the saviours of Kerala culture. What an idiotic decision!

Ignorance is not bliss. Children will grow with bits and pieces of sex education that they get unofficially from friends and relatives. That little information is dangerously short of the actual and original. We must change to accept the truth. When will we understand that sex can no longer be taken as a taboo? When will we realize that there is nothing to be guilty if we want to talk about a subject as good as music? When will the third rated weekly magazines stop the mutilated descriptions? When will we have a system that changes the unchanged? And ultimately when will we stop pretending?