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.

An Evening in a Korean Police Station

In the previous post I had written about the accident I had happened to witness. The people who had taken the accident victim away had collected my phone number just in case they had some trouble in settling the case. They called late in the same night and told me that my number had been handed over to the police. I was requested to tell the truth about what I had seen that night. I replied in the affirmative and waited for the call from the police.

The call came at half past midnight. Someone said “Hello, do you speak Korean?” in fluent English, which in fact surprised me, and I said I didn’t. The man at the other end laughed aloud, again in fluent English, and hung up the phone! I waited for some more time and then dozed off. I had almost forgotten about the whole incident when two days later I received a call from a lady introducing herself as an interpreter. She described the accident and asked me if I had time to come over to the police station to testify as a witness. I said “of course I do, but now I am busy with work” then she asked me where I was working and my residential address. I gave her the details and agreed to go to the Dalseo-gu Police Station on the next day.

I had already heard about and seen by myself some of the methods and manners of the Korean police, like chasing down someone getting away in a car and bowing to him in salutation before taking him into custody, politely requesting, through the loudspeaker, those who had illegally parked their vehicles by the roadside to move them to a proper parking lot, turning up at the scenes of minor skirmishes among students just to capture the events on camera and leave quietly without interfering and taking those caught for drunken driving to a video show in the station to enlighten them about the adverse consequences of their act. So I was in the least nervous at the prospect of a visit to the police station. I was excited rather, at the opportunity.

Next evening, I left office early, at 7 pm. I received the call from the interpreter again on my way to the station. She received me at the station gate along with the officer in charge of the investigation. The policeman bore no resemblance whatsoever to the image of the typical policemen back home. As we proceeded to his seat the interpreter tried to reassure me that I wouldn’t be facing any difficulty on account of recording my witness statement. I smiled, nodding my appreciation. The station resembled a hi-tech office of some company with the state of the art electronic systems and PCs. Another person was giving some testimony at the adjacent table.

The officer started asking me questions about the accident through the interpreter. I was asked where I was staying, where I was working, where I was going that day at that time, what was my regular working time, and so on. He also asked me to mark my location at the time of the accident as well as the locations of the car and the victim. He had made detailed sketches of the accident site and had photographs from different angles. The same questions were repeated many times at intervals, might be a way of checking if I was contradicting myself. All the while he was typing his report in consultation with the interpreter. The procedure lasted about two hours, and I was feeling sleepy when finally he applied ink on my finger and obtained my thumb impression on certain documents. When he had almost finished he asked me to wait a little longer before wiping the ink. The interpreter asked me if I had kept a bank account. I said I did, but I couldn’t recall the account number. The officer then stood up and took out some money and gave it to me! He then made me sign the final document which was the receipt for the money I had been given.

"It is a minor token of appreciation from the Korean police for making use of your invaluable time." the interpreter told me as we prepared to leave!!