The Tharoor Effect

The lobbyists who lost the game left fuming after Shashi Tharoor torpedoed their plans to hijack another deserving central government aid to Trivandrum. See how Calicut's national news paper reports the same here.

http://www.mathrubhumi.com/php/newFrm.php?news_id=1259390&n_type=NE&category_id=3&Farc=T

If the above link doesn't work....

For them the people of Trivandrum doesn't belong to Kerala, it seems!

This is politics mates, sometimes you win, but not always. Learn to take it in your stride. Even Barack Obama himself couldn't take the Olympics to Chicago. Hope the Minister of Health 'for Calicut' won't show a step motherly attitude to Trivandrum now!

Flash News: There was no attempt at any 'hijacking', I was wrong, my apologies....

The Princess on the Wall

The Smiles From My Shelf [6]

“.....our friends were invariably proletarian and poor.... you recognized them by their clothes......But even in the way they wore their clothes, there was a fantasy, a frankness .....(the) young women of working-class families;.....they were more authentic and spontaneous.”

Michelangelo Antonioni

The family had pulled in with two shopping carts full of food, beverages and other household items. By all means they appeared a working class family of moderate means. She was wearing ordinary clothes and led her parents into the winter wear shop, walking as if there were springs on her legs and smiling beautifully. Her Father appeared uninterested and just stood holding the carts while her Mother was trying on the colorful neck scarves. She had put on a brown leather jacket and stood in front of the mirror, turning left and right, smiling all the while. Having assured herself, that it was made for her, she walked towards her Dad, strolling majestically as if she were a princess. Dad whispered something under his breath and looked the other way, sending her in her Mother’s direction. But the Mother was too busy with the collection of scarves and didn’t even look up. A couple of tear drops appeared to find their way onto the leather jacket as she was carefully hanging it back on the display railing. She quickly regained her composure and began eyeing other items. Those somehow failed to engage her attention for long and she found her way back to her Father again. This time he was more forthcoming as he pulled out his wallet and revealed his helplessness. She smiled again having convinced herself that there wasn’t the slightest dip in her Father’s love for her. She sauntered again, majestically, on the springs, towards the clothing on which she had left her mark unintentionally. Having put it on one last time, she smiled at the princess who smiled back at her from within the mirror on the walls of that winter wear shop.

My Favourite White Shirt and My Father’s Zatopekian Gesture

Today is Achan’s birthday. How young he is? I do not know for sure. On my birthday last month, I had gifted myself a plain white cotton shirt to replace the one which was found missing from my wardrobe on the last trip home. I have had a penchant for the white cotton shirts for a long time. I remember having a favourite white cotton shirt when I was at college. Those were the days of wide eyes and long curly hair, when the women of all ages couldn’t resist a passing glance at the handsome figure ;-)

The temptation to dress well and have simple yet great new clothes was hard to suppress. It can not be blamed, on someone hogging the limelight all the while J But often the demand was turned down at home by the Parents who conveniently followed the doctrine that whatever he wore, their son was the most handsome guy in the world. A few days after one of those bitter battles at home I found a new white shirt with a small red star logo on the left pocket on my Parents’ Godrej Storewell and readily took a fancy for it. I had inherited my Father’s liking for cotton shirts and did not hide my craving for the new one I had found among his collection. The demand was met with stoic silence and I had no option other than giving up my desire.

Emil Zatopek was one of the most popular members of the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia, a national hero whose statue stood at a prominent location in the capital, Prague and whose birthday was a national holiday. In 1968 he was one of the most prominent supporters of the then President Alexander Dubcek’s reform program known as the Prague Spring, the first of its kind in the communist bloc in Eastern Europe. He signed the “2000 Word Manifesto” which called for a break from the Soviet Union. But after the party hardliners ousted Dubcek and took power with the help of invading Russian troops, the Czech Army Colonel was stripped off his Army rank, and expelled from the Communist Party and was asked to work as a garbage collector in the streets of Prague. Alarmed by the crowds of people who turned up to help their national hero at work, the authorities later sent him to work in a uranium mine in a remote village where he worked in virtual isolation till his retirement in 1982. His national honours were restored after the Velvet Revolution of 1989 and he could travel and talk freely again and enjoy the affection and respect of the athletics fans the world over. But during those interviews he refused to blame his former comrades for the hardships they had imposed on him.

Had he been alive, Zatopek would have celebrated his birthday and wedding anniversary last Saturday along with his wife Dana, who incidentally was born on the same day a few hours later and to this day they remain the only husband and wife to have won the Olympic Gold medals on the same day.

“His enthusiasm, his friendliness, his love of life, shone through every movement. There is not and never was a greater man than Emil Zatopek.” So said Ron Clarke; the Mayor of Gold Coast, Queensland, Australia.

As a promising 19-year-old, Ron Clarke was chosen to light the Olympic Flame during the opening ceremonies of the Melbourne Olympics in 1956, coincidently the last and the least successful one for Zatopek. But in spite of setting 17 world records in long distance running, he failed to win an Olympic Gold medal, the ultimate dream of any athlete. In 1968 at Mexico, during a last ditch effort, he collapsed and nearly died from altitude sickness sustained during the gruelling 10,000 m race final, an event for which he held the world record from 1963 to 1972. Disappointed, he decided to call on Zatopek in Prague on his way back to Australia. On the point of his leaving Prague airport after the visit, Clarke was walked through the customs by Zatopek. Shaking hands in a final farewell, Zatopek quietly slipped into his hands a small package and said; “Look after this; you deserve it.” Worried that he was carrying some smuggled information from Zatopek, who was on a secret service watch list at the time for his support to the Prague Spring, Clarke took it unopened onto his flight. He hesitantly opened his package only after the flight was well outside Czechoslovakian airspace.

Inside it was Zatopek's 10,000 metres gold medal from Helsinki, with an inscription for Clarke!!

A couple of days after giving up my hopes on having the new white shirt for myself, I found it hanging inside my wardrobe J

And for me; there is not a greater man than my Father

Footnote: My missing white shirt was later traced to my Father’s wardrobe ;-)

My Take on the Proust Questionnaire

There can be no better time to come out of hibernation and blog down my answers to the Proust Questionnaire, today being just another day in life. Marcel Proust was the French writer famous for the monumental In Search of Lost Time a.k.a. Remembrance of Things Past. He did not invent this set of questions; he had simply the most extraordinary mind among all the persons who responded to these questions. He had enthusiastically answered the Questionnaire several times in his life, the most prominent being his entry at age 13, in An Album to Record Thoughts, Feelings etc. belonging to his friend Antoinette, the daughter of (later French President) Felix Faure. I have borrowed from this and another set of questions Proust had answered at 20 to assemble my questionnaire. It is very difficult to stay clear of the influence of the replies of a genius, yet I have strived hard to keep it to a minimum. J

What’s your most marked characteristic?

What’s in my mind is on my face.

What’s your favorite virtue?

The virtue of recognizing the virtue in others.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

The realization that one day my Parents will leave me forever.

Where would you like to live?

A country where every child born has equal opportunity in building its own life and where the justice system is fair to all and the citizens have equal respect.

What is your idea of earthly happiness?

To live a life surrounded by those who love me, among the abundance of the beauties of nature, with plenty of books and music.

To what faults do you feel most indulgent?

It depends.

The qualities that you admire most in a man?

Compassion, Fearlessness, and Humility

The qualities that you admire most in a woman?

Dignity, Intelligence, Warmth and frankness in friendship.

Who are your favorite characters in history?

M K Gandhi, with all his faults included.

Who are your favorite heroines in history?

Rani Lakshmi Bai of Jhansi, I wonder if she can be restricted to favorite heroines, though!

Who are your favorite heroes in real life?

Don’t have to go far when I have my Father with me.

Who are your favorite heroines in real life?

Amma; having watched from close quarters, her relentless efforts at keeping her children on the right track in life.

Who are your favorite writers?

Albert Camus and Charles Dickens.

Who are your favorite poets?

Neruda.

Who are your favorite heroes of fiction?

Ones whom I came to know during the early phases of my life in reading continue to remain the lasting favorites. Karna, the legendary warrior from Mahabharata, for fighting the misfortunes throughout his life, never giving up and all the while keeping his generosity and valor intact. Hugo’s Jean Val jean for his twenty year-long struggle with the law for stealing bread during a time of economic and social depression and coming out clean in the end at a ‘higher court’ and dying a happy man and a real hero, and Dickens’ David Copperfield for his optimism, diligence and perseverance in the face of heavy odds staked against him, remain the most favorites, mainly due to the fact that they came into my mind at a very impressionable age.

Who are your favorite heroines in fiction?

Jane Eyre, Anne Dubreuilh.

Your favorite painter?

Although plenty of paintings and books on paintings were available at home, my Father being a gifted artist, unfortunately I didn’t pick up a keen interest. Still I shall mention Leonardo Da Vinci as my favorite for creating the greatest smile on canvas.

Your favorite musician?

I like the music of all kinds. I would like to mention Malayalam composers Raghavan master for his originality and Ravindran master for his versatility.

Your favorite occupation?

Watching little children and capturing them on the cam.

Who would you have liked to be?

I would have liked to be myself, shedding the inherent irritants in character.

What do you most value in your friends?

The willingness to accept me as I am, and tolerate my defects.

What is your principal defect?

The extremities and irritating unpredictability of my emotional swings.

What to your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes?

Not to have been the son of my Parents.

What would you like to be?

A teacher, much improved and more informed.

What natural gift would you most like to possess?

The ability to sing my favorite melodies.

What’s your favorite color?

The different shades of nature; the soul soothing greenery of the thick forests, the spectacular splash of colours during the sunset and sunrise, the varied shades of the infinite blue of sky and the seas, the sparkling silver of the stars in the darkness of night and so on.

What’s your favorite flower?

Proust had mentioned merely hers, and I know that it’s the lily.

What’s your favorite bird?

The little sparrow, the tiny bundle of energy.

What are your favorite names?

J I have two, one given by my Mother and the other by my Father.

What is it that you most dislike?

My own laziness and the fascination for idleness.

What historical figures do you most despise?

Auragazeb, the brutality he had shown to his own family is sufficient.

What event in military history do you most admire?

The friendship between late Capt. Vijayant Thapar and the 5 year old orphan girl Rukhsana in Kargil.

How would you like to die?

Loving and being loved.

What is your present state of mind?

Worried and embarrassed that I don’t have an answer to the next question.

What is your motto?

Still Searching….

Thank you J

Independence Day Reading

As the images of fluttering tricolors and the colorful balloons going up in the sky in celebration of yet another Independence Day kept coming in, I was reminded of someone about whom I had read sometime back by an online news paper article today. At 12, in 1942 she had given her gold ear ring to Aruna Asaf Ali who was speaking in Thrissur seeking to raise funds for the Quit India Movement. She received severe beating from her step mother as a reward for the gesture. She left home after matriculation to take part in the freedom struggle and traversed the length and breadth of the country spreading the message against the British rule.

After independence, she served and studied at the Kasturba Centre at Indore and joined Acharya Vinoba Bhave’s Bhoodan Movement. She was awarded the Kasturba Trust Prize for her services to the Gandhian causes in 1975. Later she founded the Shanthikudeerom in Tirur for spreading Gandhian values.

In old age she applied for pensions given to freedom fighters and Khadi promoters. She was not found eligible as she had no documents to be produced in support of her activities from 1950. It is said that she was asked if she had proof to show that she was a Gandhian. So finally on 10^th of February, 2007 Gandhian Sarojiniji ended her life, hanging by a khadi dress she had spun and woven by herself.

(source: Kerala Kaumudi Online)

Happy Independence Day, have a blast.

Note: If you are Indian, don't forget to keep documentary evidence for all your good deeds. Might come in handy in old age.