Home is where the heart is

I used to miss my home when in university and even while in Mumbai, I prefer the peace and comfort of home over the rush and liveliness of the city. It is not just familiarity that I miss- the greenery, water, rains, comparative lack of poverty, relative empowerment of women and indifference towards religion and caste were all features I cherished about Kerala. I considered myself lucky to have been born in there.

I used to be proud of the political awareness of the people who vote out each government with contempt, assert their rights fearlessly and the strong links maintained by non-resident mallus with their roots. I was saddened by the floods that mercilessly made indelible marks deeper on the minds of my people than on the landscape, but the unity with which the people clawed back from the brink made my eyes well up with hope and pride.

Of late, things have changed. There has been a tectonic shift in the surface- but what has become frightfully obvious is that this is only an outpouring of emotions and fears that were so far tucked away in the dark recesses of the Malayali psyche. That these emotions have always existed is a fact to which I woke up only due to the recent incidents that have proved beyond doubt that Kerala is as susceptible to communal polarisation as any backward north Indian shrine is to political opportunism. These incidents were merely the first signs of black on my mind's canvas on which I had adoringly painted my land.

Until now, the abuses and shoutings that used to happen on facebook profiles of actresses and social activists were considered as a normal process of adjustment of a predominantly middle-aged and old society to the winds of change sweeping through the world. Assertiveness of women on the social scene, liberation of different sexual identities, openness in discussing hitherto taboo subjects like menstruation and sexual health were a progressive trend that met natural reactionary opposition like in any part of the world. I judged that openness and freedom were winning and the trolls and abuses were seen by me as the dying gasps of an outdated and soon to be abandoned conservatism, male chauvinism. Although I was not in favour of extreme reactions like "Kiss of Love" which was very nearly about challenging the other side to a fight and not a sincere attempt to reform, I felt such extreme steps are par for the course when reactionaries also go to the extreme level and contemptuously dismiss the need for any change.

But I was wrong. These reactions were the violent suppression of a much needed fledgling reform movement that could have ensured that women could safely drive their cars without getting abused at any time of the day. These reactions were meant to snuff out any attempt to change and not merely the last vestiges of a dark age. The kind of attack on women and children, will send a chill down the spine of even the most detached and indifferent braveheart. The fact these are coming out with alarming regularity makes me wonder how long "God's own country" has shrouded itself under the veneer of nature's bounty and social progress  without revealing the truth that is full of "Devil's own people".

Political activism is just a means for various political factions to capture power at the cost of innocent lives. While celebrating the unity and fortitude of the people in the aftermath of the floods, the revelation by a court appointed investigation that it was the ineptitude of the administration that caused the floods unwinds any claim to administrative and political progress in the state.

This is where Mumbai shows a different path- all the good, the bad and the ugly are laid bare. From the stark economic contrast to the indifference towards both the affairs of other people and environment degradation, the grimful days of communal riots, wounds of terrorism and the darkness of gang wars, the city has accepted it all and not denied or hidden anything. The kind of safety that women and children confidently enjoy, the freedom the city gives its students to pursue any career path- be it commerce or acting (unlike my state where you HAVE TO BE a doctor or an engineer), the freedom to mind my own business and my indifference to the life of others is something Kerala can learn from.

I do not want Kerala or any part of it to transform itself into a city of inequality where trampling the slower ones under the foot mad rush of life is essential for one's survival and creaking infrastructure that makes life just long journeys to and from work filled with uncertainties. But I wish my state would stay green, politically aware, forget religious differences and defend itself from selfish, shameless and crooked politicians, ruthless and unscrupulous businessmen and most dangerous of them all- indifferent people.

We the people need to stop suppressing and denying their own identity and need to confront it head on. We need to come out into the open and deal with all the festering issues in our mind- male superiority, obsession with flaunting wealth, disregard for nature ranging from encroachment on sensitive water bodies to unstable hillsides and lack of respect for labour. As the state with highest literacy in the country, we should also be leading the country in the fight against fake news, sensational reporting by media and fake social media posts and also online frauds.

However, we seem to be faring no better than the rest of the country in handling these issues. As Joseph Alex famously said, all of us need a huge dose of "Sense, Sensibility and Sensitivity" for things to get better. Although a famous movie dialogue, it fits in perfectly as a solution to the current issues we have in our state.
As I write this after a two week holiday in Kerala, I do not miss the place, I do not have pine for a life there, but I do wish things would get better there and that I am able to be a part o
f that transformation.

Machine, Witch and I

I am creating a post simply because I have time and have nothing to do but wait for others to do their job. But the results are with me and the final impact is quite clear, I will be very late to get home today. This happens more frequently than I would like and each time, as the fact that I would be stuck in office for the most flimsiest of reasons sink in, a tsunami of emotions well up in my mind accompanied by a tide of acidity in my stomach. Since these are unhealthy, I have tried to control my emotions and thus the gastronomic discomfort. However, bottling up emotions do not achieve anything and so I am trying to put a positive spin on my fortune.

I thought I would contemplate on the two novels written by Malayattoor Ramakrishnan that I have read. From amongst his oeuvre, I have read only "Yanthram" and "Yakshi", so it is not a fair way to judge or measure any author, let one one as prolific and acclaimed as Malayattoor. It is very obvious that I am not qualified to judge an author of such high calibre, so I would like to restrict myself to what I experienced while reading the book and how I felt about it.

Beautiful but terrible, that is the easiest way to describe "Yakshi". In every line, there is a sense of fear mixed with dejection. Even when there is hope, you know that there is a cloud of darkness that is growing stronger and since I was reading this at a time of great mental and physical discomfort for me, the novel brings back painful memories. But one thing that the novel abundantly makes clear is that it is neither the physical trauma nor its impact on his visage that drives the protagonist, but the loss of confidence and the resultant inferiority complex. Although it could be considered Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, I feel that there is more to the inferiority complex.

Although the actions of the protagonist have no similarities to what I did during that period, the gloom, dread, sense of despair were common which were amplified by my state of helplessness. I was stuck in a big city, alone and the "small fish in a big pond" had scared me no end. To the protagonist in "Yakshi", it was the mental trauma caused by an accident that pushes his mind to fill up with gloom and dread, which then starts to carve him apart from the inside. I realised I was doing something similar to myself and hence tried to handle it in a better way. It was all in my mind and it was definitely controllable if I just could accept reality.

However, I realised that I could not do anything to get a grip on my mind till the tide turned in my life. I was helpless and my life was at the mercy of everyone but me- the city, the job I had chosen, the people I lived, worked and travelled with- had more control over my fate than me. This is where I met Balachandran from "Yanthram"- someone who was able to hang on to the unstable, big and uncertain world into which he was suddenly thrown into. Although he loses who he is, gets sidelined frequently and even loses a sense of what is right and wrong, he does survive. But the terms of his survival are not his, they are determined by his own inferiority complex, a sense of desparation to do something remarkable and also his selfishness. I could not let these conquer me.

I realised I needed one thing to go well, a straw at which I can clutch and climb my way out of the pit I had dug my mind into. I was eventually able to do that and for now, I am still above ground.

Don't be Hasty

My father used to say, "In Mumbai everyone's got a wheel on their legs". I realised it is true the moment I reached this place. Right from the rush to exit the aircraft to the daily rush to board the local train, people here are in a hurry. It is not a hurry to get things done because if it was, they would not have thrown themselves into even an empty compartment where it is certain that there are seats for everyone waiting to board. This is the rule by which the place functions and then it seeps into the mind- it percolates into everything that one does and the change is irreversible for most.

The mind too attaches itself to a wheel- while legs carry the body to the train, mind is busy calculating which platform to board the train, which compartment to board, when to jump on board and then what to play on the mobile. Added to this haste is the distraction offered by electronic gadgets, social media, television and the traditional yellow papers. I don't even have the patience to list out all the distractions and I don't even have the time to think, collect my thoughts and put them down here.

So, I am here, I need to put down what I have learned after coming here and I cannot get up before this is complete. I have kept other gadgets away from reach and my mind, hoping I can force my mind to reach a logical destination. I need to not let the haste of my body reach my mind and brush aside all which does not let me go at my pace. The time I have been here has taught me a few things and I am trying to put that together what I want for myself, what I see as right and what I can do.

The first lesson is that I need to learn- this could be about my work, how to deal with people, how the market functions, how my own organisation functions and its pitfalls and the grim reality of post-truth hyperbole, ineptitude and unwieldiness that is haunting my country. Learning is to be better at my job and life and the exposure that I have had once I came to Mumbai has enabled me to change myself for the good to some extent. There are a lot of things that I am yet to implement and I need to start very soon with that.

Next lesson is to wear a mask- this mask is to not let people know who you are, what you are thinking at any particular moment and to be unpredictable. It helps because the world is not fair and even if you go with the best of intentions, someone will deliberately hit you with a truck and trample you. This would help you as it hides where you are going and how you are going.

Although I have had the policy of not trusting anyone, it has not been a sacrosanct commandment of mine. I need to follow this at any cost. Everyone has their own selfish interest and opportunities are few- just grab it no matter what. I do not want to harm or deliberately tarnish anyone, but I will stand up for myself and everything that is important to me.

Then, have clear priorities. To me, job is not a pathway to salvation and it is only a way to pay the bills. I have seen what goes on and it is not in the best interest of my survival to meddle in things beyond my grade or commit myself to more than what my pay justifies. My life is for me and my family- job can only take whatever is left behind, it cannot have the best of me. In the mad rush to survive in the job, for better appraisal, for foreign postings or promotions, there are those who forget themselves. I have seen those who cannot stand their peers take even a single step more than themselves or reach parity. They want to be in the limelight, at the forefront and with a clear lead over others- I do not wish to run myself out of breath trying to beat others.

There are new challenges getting ready as I write this and it will take a lot more than what I have to overcome those. I hope I am up to those and handle them without haste, at my own pace and on my terms. It is not always possible, but there is not limit to hope.

Nostalgia?

It was a coincidence as a friend shared my old photos from 2010 right when 10 year challenge is trending on facebook. Although I consider nostalgia to be a futile emotion and a relapse into the past as unhealthy, it got me thinking on where things went wrong. I might even be making the same mistakes now, as I did then, so the exercise was also meant to be a course correction.

I realised that I lost the plot after 10th standard board exams. I did not decide for myself what I wanted and was ripped apart by the decisions my parents took for me. I did not know what I wanted and went with what they lead me into. It has been over 14 years since those days and I have no regrets about whatever has happened since then. But I wish I had some measure of control over what went on during those days.

I did not read or write or develop myself personally at an age I should and instead, went into the rat race of entrance exams. I recount all this because I am in a similar situation right now. I need to take control of my life or else I will be lost and a decade later, I will be trying to find out what I did with my life. I don't want the critical junctures of my life to be blurs where my life was lead by forces totally out of control and I merely accepted it all passively.

I have not written anything for the past three years. This is an attempt to reclaim this life. Not sure whether I will be successful.