Cast Away

I watched a movie yesterday and it had a very sensitive subject-a mother’s passion and affection for her child. And how she could keep alive hope against dead ends and patiently waited for her child who was lost from home reunited with her. A poignant wait and only mothers would do. The loss, only mothers may feel more than the father. It reminded me of a real life story and I wondered….!.

I was introduced to this fair, tall handsome guy with round bratty eyes by a good friend. They were mates from their school days. And my friend being a person of intense emotions, feelings and conscientious too, I gathered that this guy too must be of the kind. Else do birds of the same feather flock together? That was way back, some years ago. I also remember meeting him a few more times once at my friend’s house and we even had some light hearted banter over drinks. My friend being keen in enjoying the art form of kathakali and a connoisseur of sorts of the dance drama, he used to hunt his way to the nether world to watch a performance. This guy, his buddy was the member of the once Royal clan from central Kerala and was also naturally a fan of this art form. And often they have both motor biked distance to enjoy the late night enactments in remote temples and villages. These guys had something in common and hit off well. It turned out in later years, perhaps there to end the similarity between the two. It was often that I have heard him, my friend, speak with great warmth and fondness about this chap. And though life took them distance apart, they were in communication and also used to meet.

From the few occasions I have had been with this guy, I did found him gregarious and fun loving. He was just like any of us in our youth, impetuous, and overwhelming confidence.

Years later, I heard from my friend that this guy married a city educated, sophisticated lass and settled in Bangalore.

I continued to hear stories 

occasionally, about this fellow from my friend. The last, I heard from him was that the guy had become an incorrigible alcoholic and self-condescending person. He was a recluse and thriving on self-pity and had lost all respectability of self. He lost his job and was now refuge in a boarding quarter in the old Royal household in a town off Cochin. 

The twist is from elsewhere. He had a great marriage and life thereafter, until his first child was born- a girl. She was born blind! He was devastated and naturally so. He used to seek his friend for solace and as a means to dispose his agony and trauma. What succor can one lend, but to advise courage and fortitude? Appalling stories continued. The poor fellow was almost over the precipice when he confided to my friend that his wife disliked the child and did not have any mind to tender it. She despised the child very much and wanted to give it away to someone. And that unperturbed by his miserable appeals and pleadings she stayed adamant and could agree to nothing but abandon the child. He finally could arrange child adoption through some NGO.  Though, fortunately the child was adopted by a wealthy couple from Germany. We wondered how a woman- a mother could gather does this!

Consequently, he moaned that his relationship with his wife was distanced and fast sliding into terminal point. He wailed that she despised him too, that he was undesirable and an infliction in his own house. He lost the will to work and had terrifying night mares that haunted him. He was always under the influence of alcohol. My friend was understanding and supportive, trying to wean him away from self-destruction.

The final blow was ironically to the poor fellow, my friend. After this man left Bangalore and found refuge in Cochin, he happened to meet him and also could speak to his wife. It was then she revealed that it was her husband who despised the child and did not want to keep the little one. And rubbishing her anguish and utterly terrified state arranged for the adoption and consigned the child to the German couple – her foster parents. All the subsequent affairs and his condition are the natural and direct offshoot of the guilt that began to plough and monstrously haunt him since. Later when confronted with the sordid facts, he confessed to my friend that he was responsible for the wretchedness in which he finds himself. And that the guilt was tearing away at his soul.

I wonder if he will ever have reprieve from guilt, it will gnaw away at him till he ceases to breathe.

The Naked Ape

Desmond Morris kept an interesting outlook, as an anthropologist who studied animal behaviour, later to discover fascinating similarities in the species that consider it elite- Homo sapiens. But this short story nudged me to wonder if Desmond Morris found hideous and wicked amongst animals. The nearest, I understand from animal watchers is that some species of primates like Chimps and Orangutans carry nefarious traits common in man. No wonder they are our not too distant cousins!

And here is the narration that,when read  made me wonder about beasts and ask myself can it be helped if one becomes a misanthropist.

“I was not comfortable with the estrangement that crept in amongst them. And felt that there was nothing wrong in engineering a rapprochement and it may be a good thing to happen. Turning around the sour relationship would make the air pleasant and well-off. To me it seemed a sensible thought and especially so when the subjects of the story were siblings. She being my spouse, I was privy to her untold emotions. But she was adept in keeping matters of disaffection away from visibility. And, at the same time I could also sense the choke point in her when disaffection from quarters she considered her own anguished her with such intensity previously unknown. I was dismayed and surprised at the pathetic behavior meted out to her. I felt perhaps it was deign to even consider a rapprochement or an offer of redress. It negates the very essence, the spirit of what is rapprochement. Rapprochement alleviates unpleasantness that visit because of matters that were committed but later repented. I wondered if insolence, disdain and haughtiness may be considered such, more when there seems to be no apparent keenness in shelving those traits.

But I felt, fleeting and fickle that life is, why harbour ill will and bear grudge. More so when it is amongst ones close and near, by blood and birth and even friends who bear a place in our bosom? So I decided to let the frost thaw when the woman phoned me to ask if she would go with us for the weekend. I saw an opportunity to bring back the old days, when it was bonhomie with lot of apparent affection thrown in their midst. It would help to assuage hurt feelings if she and the woman are traveling together in the car over the fair distance we planned that weekend. Unpleasantness and hurt emotions may make way when you are in physical proximity and in easy surrounds.

Later in the evening that weekend Friday, after we checked in at the resort, we met at the Club house of the Hotel, atop the hill overlooking the valley - the glinting town far below. It was a perfect retreat and entrapment with the starry sky above and glittering reflections of the town far below- lending a heavenly state of ambience. The haunting smoothness of the Hindustani on the stereo relaxed every sinew and nerves from head to toe. Looking around at the full house, I felt it was fortunate to have had the late realisation that afternoon and called the hotel to reserve seats at the club house. The atmosphere lend by the serenity besides the soothing effect lend by the visuals outside the glass paned windows and the euphony inside was only gently jostled by the intermittent clanking of the cutlery. Conversations were soft enough in hushed murmurs.

She and the woman were seated across me at the far side of the table. I did not interrupt and let them continue with their conversations and restrained banter. She was quite lively through the journey and seemed to have revived the lost times of old. She chose to sit in the rear passenger area of the car, as often the woman while she travelled with us complaints sickness if seated in the rear and would choose to seat in the passenger seat in front with me at the wheel. And, almost through the drive until she fell back in her seat asleep, she was leaning forward between me and the woman and indulging in animated chatter. Now, seated next to the woman, her visage was sprightly like old times. I felt that it will be appropriate to convey to the woman, the guarded thoughts and feelings that seethed in me. She must not take my spouse for a naiveté, a nitwit, one without emotions or feelings and must accept that she has a heart that can offer unrequited love and affection, but which throbs in deafening silence when trampled and shunned. I began by telling the woman that emotionally she has been alienated away from them. And these days were nothing but torment to her. It was often, that at night she rolled about in bed unable to sleep or walked about outside on the lawn quite disquiet. For she had much love for them, while their lack of concern and empathy coupled with their distancing from her was too disconcerting. And, also I told her that their attitude and conduct were to quote, “the unkindest cut of all” and which even brought her to bear the macabre idea of ending it all.  However it was good that she could today get to efface her anguish. The woman listened to me with expression of much understanding and occasionally looked at her sister in askance and astonishment, conveying the message that it was all her silly mind and was much ado about nothing. She maintained a condescending tone and even rebukes. 

While the desserts were being served, I excused and went to the lavatory and also to steal the comfort of a quick cigarette in the coolness of the mountain air outside.

We left the place on the evening of the second day and I was satisfied that the short but good time in the much pleasant climes of the hills was doing good to her after all those days  of melancholia and anguish.

It was about a month after, when I was back from a tour that she mentioned it over breakfast. She asked me if I would recall the night at the resort when for a short few minutes I was away from her and the woman while the desserts were being served. I said I did. She then suggested that the woman, her sister, may have had different agenda. I looked up at her in askance. She told me that the woman chose the moment I was away to suggest to her that she be careful about my ways and that I may be having an amorous relationship with another woman. I agape, asked her why the woman had to concoct such a vicious story and how that mattered in the context we discussed. And it then dawned on us- the smiles, the hugs, the sweet nothings and even the occasional jerks of tear were all artful deceit of the woman. She would want to have strife amongst us and what else could achieve that better than a journey seeking reconciliation with us and then a malicious story with lecherous undertones subtly planted in our midst? A potent keg of gunpowder! ”

Saturn

I write this from a very personal angle. A subject that is touched upon because of my sceptical demeanour. And I cannot for the love of God accept the matter per se as it doesn’t fit into any inference that I can reach based on thought and reason. I cannot yield to the lure of the mysterious and the unknown and content as inviolable fact. Or for that matter the promise of paradise in after life. For, I do not want a blank and postdated cheque. And I say this without offense and wish people who disagree on the points here in do not take this as a brusque.

I have been having a torrid time since the past two odd years. Though not personally, professionally it has been an abysmal free fall into a grotesque black hole, with ramifications on ones psyche and personal fortunes. One can call it design, destiny, miscalculations or sheer bad luck. 

When the subject must be attributed to design and or destiny, the responsibility of the protagonist is absolved. For, then, when matters of life on earth are designed, dispensed by someone what could a victim do other than be victimised? Then, one is just a marionette. If it is to be attributed to one’s personal incompetence , error coupled or by sudden twist in events  different from planned - call it vicissitudes, then the blame can be put at the door of the person or be apportioned between the hands that destine and the unfortunate victim.

So when things are going wrong, the earthlings seek the assistance of a learned person who calculates the positions and movements of the members of the stellar system, what and where the planetary cast was when one was born. This is said to determine the reasons for why it was, why it is and what now and after.

I got a phone call from my cousin sister yesterday and she called me after an appointment with a quite old and revered distant relative who has much expertise in astrology. He read and studied my horoscope and explained to her his findings and the panacea to alleviate the effect of the ills set forth by the stellar conjunctions. She was wary of my reaction though she reeled out the findings, reasons and advice. The gentleman told her I’m eclipsed by the influence of Saturn and there may be slight remissions from the following month. Though the celestial object will not let me off the vice grip till 2016. He attributed the past disasters to the eclipse by Saturn which has its portentous shadow over me. The advices and suggestions were, to be restrained in spending and have much care in physical health (which he alleged, I do not care now). He threw a window open when he said there are possibilities of lost fortunes being retrieved. And finally, a limited redressal can be brought about by propitiating one among the holy trinity.

I just leaned back after the telecom and reflected upon the information what she passed on to me. I thought of Saturn, the splendid planet which is almost a hundred times massive than the earth, with sixty moons and nine fabulous ring of ice; Saturn, a distant stellar occupant some 1.67 billion kilometers away; a planet of gas and ice geysers and with density that is so low that the gravity is only about 90 percent of the earth. And, that gives me a room for comfort. Certainly the gravitational exertion Saturn can have on my fate, destiny or even  at the time I was born must be infinitesimally small as it has to travel 1.67 billion kilometers. Perhaps my mother or even the obstetrician’s gravity may have had more influence on me!

I could not reason to agree with the important findings conveyed over phone. As for the advice of practicing thrift, I have not been flamboyant or extravagant literally speaking; the indifference to health is a wrong notion, though I have been as always indulging in the pleasures of alcohol, an occasional smoke or a fabulous meal. And, there is no guarantee that nemesis may not stay away if life is insipidly puritanical. When one is agnostic since the age of seventeen and still unable to see anything remotely satisfying the existence or otherwise of an anthropomorphic big brother it is difficult to heed the last advice too. To accept the existence of a sapient super natural figure to whom I can fall upon and for him to show mercy, seems quite ludicrous. Because, what would make me the chosen one? To even think distantly so will be grossly impudent.

 I cannot see any reason to accept the fondness of human beings to evaluate reality exclusively in terms of human values. If the spectacular planet Saturn is playing dice upon my life and destiny, it certainly will have to be doing so, on the lives of many other living things, beasts as well.

Nobility

                        Who of the two is our adopted child?

Way back in the times when myth and legends that we know of is said to have happened, boons and manna were often dispensed by the Gods. Couples yearning to have a child of their own blood used to engage the preist-dom in sacrificial sorcery and offerings to the heavens, thereupon from the sacrificial fire appeared a god or goddess with the boon that would fecundate and soon a child is born. The mythical treatise of Ramayana mentions King Dasharadh appeasing the gods and his wives bearing children. The legend of Karna was born when the Sun god showered his pleasure on the mother of Pandavas, then still a maiden. The story of Christ is born out of virgin conception- again a decision by the God.  

It seems to have been a pretty easy exercise when the Gods had the sole dispensing right for the baby boom, compared to the trial and error matters with the intervention of man and medical sciences.

I was at the wedding of this gentleman “Y” ,in 1996. He was a friend and business acquaintance. The bride was an Andhraite Brahmin and a very exuberant person. We knew her from earlier times when they were courting.   The marriage was conducted in typical Brahmin fashion. It was an elaborate wedding in Bangalore followed by a elaborate dinner later in the evening.

Though I used to meet him occasionally and was communicating often on business matters we also used to preface our conversations with mutual enquiries after both our families. However, I did not meet his children, though I was aware that his family has expanded. And a couple of years back while I was in Bangalore for a business meeting in his office, he invited me home for lunch.  And I saw his children, a boy and two girls. He introduced me to the boy who was about eighteen. “A, meet my son.” And the girls were one in her adolescence and the other a few years younger.

 It just did not fit for me. First, his wedding year and the age of the eldest son were at odds. A guy married in1996 cannot have a son who is about eighteen in 2009. And bizarre it may be the boy seemed to have a Nepali appearance. It would be grossly rude and discourteous to refer these things in the conversation. And I smothered with the oddity until the next day when I could tell another friend about the confounding matter.

 The fact was that the boy was adopted and of Nepali descent. I was surprised, peeved at my silliness and felt admiration for the man.

Look around and we see many childless couples anxiously running about from temples to churches, and mausoleums before eventually ending up in infertility clinics that have mushroomed around every bend on the road. Gods seldom handout babies and bless with conceptions these days, though the lure and wizardry of faith and beliefs lead people to religious abodes. However, the medical practioner amused and patient waits as he knows that eventually his cash box will tinkle as couples will seek his assistance – cul-de sac.

The cruel irony is that as in any facet of life there are reprobates at large among physicians as well. These men of medicine often exploit the desperation of these gullible men and women who yearn for a child. One may not wonder if the lid is blown on these infertility clinics and their reprehensible and libertine ways are exposed. 

I wonder what precludes people who are physiologically unable to fecundate or conceive from taking recourse to adoption. Even the learned and educated of the gentry make beeline to places that offer supernatural remedies for infertility. Astonishingly they do not reason the course of adoption, which is nobler and practical than conceiving through a donor sperm, having a child through a surrogate or seek upward for the impossible to happen!

The handsome Nepali boy must have been adopted from a shelter for destitute. He must be immensely fortunate to get a home, loving parents and foster sisters. It was pleasure watching the family stay together, play, joke, and live together. Perhaps a rare glimpse of what heaven could be on this earth. And, for Y to proudly introduce him as his son is a prise that is nobler than nobility can ever be!

The Monster-in-Law

“ I,…….. , take thee,….. , to my lawful wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

The vow of fidelity pronounced, the priest declares the couple “Man and Wife”. This is in true Christian fashion. Though the mutual plight is not necessarily pledged in weddings in other traditions the conduct is such that mutual acceptance as man and wife or woman and husband is emphasised.

But where in these vows or rituals can we find the reference to the “mother- in- law” inserted? I once heard someone (a woman) assert that when a girl marries a man, she also marries the mother-in-law! Hear hear the ones among women who are liberated! Surely this must be a chicanery of male chauvinists in cahoots with mothers in law!

I would not be hurt if fathers- in- law were given similar consideration and importance in matters, because I may be one, one day and then to feel the relegation from priority would be disheartening. But alas that is the way the world has been made- pardon me if I believe it is a woman’s world!

However all is not quite well on the western front. Perhaps it is lucky to be a father-in-law and consequently be ignored. For, the wedlock between a bride and her mother in law has not often been proved an aid to world peace and stability. 

I have been trying to keep my eyes and ears well overhauled to see or hear about a fascinating episode somewhere of a son-in-law – father-in-law affaire in the mold of the typical daughter-in-law – mother-in-law affection that we often hear of. Why it is the in-law syndrome seem to be endemic to women? This happens irrespective of culture, education and grooming. It is often that more defining the education and status, miserable is the relationship of the woman –in law.

I know of this woman hailing from a respectable family in Tamilnad and, she is a senior secretary in the government from the Indian administrative service. However she is perhaps the meanest of women, I have known of. She would probably address a social gathering about the responsibilities and family duties of a woman, then go home and banish her mother-in-law to bed without dinner. Then keep the little sister of the man in the kitchen throughout the night doing chores. These may be simply the pig tail ends of the real life conduct the IAS officer indulges with pleasure and satisfaction.

This does not always mean that the poor mothers-in-law are the offended lot piled over with misery and injustices. Every mother- in- law has once graduated from being a daughter- in-law. And the pendulum swings both ways. In such situations, often than not, the man is not to be seen as absolved, but is pliable, acquiescing and imbecile. Either the fellow is impotent or ductile to the whims of either his wife or the mother.  This should not mean that there are  no miserable fellows  who are caught in the crossfire . 

Psychologists explains away the syndromes as possessiveness of the mother for her son and her subconscious mind dictating that she refuse to  share the affection, attention and care of her son with another woman, an intruder, stranger and an alien. And, alternate cases, the wife feeling exasperated and disturbed by the intrusion of the old hag, the mother-in-law into her privacy and lone moments with her man.  I would rubbish this like the predilections Sigmund Freud was said to have in identifying most thoughts and notions with sex, (It is said that he even related a mother's feelings while she breastfeeds her infant to that of what is akin to sexual pleasure). I wonder if there are any mothers out there who would not ridicule this as Freudian nonsense and obsession. 

The panacea perhaps lies in a bit of understanding by the man that after all the good Lord made “woman”-  harvesting  rib from his rib cage. And he better watches out and let her/them not pick at the remaining ribs!

An exception to the rule of the “monster –in- law syndrome” is the comedy film trilogy- “Meet the Parents”, “Meet the Focker’s” and “The Little Fockers”, wherein the story revolves around a father-in-law in the monster-in-law mould and the son-in-law at his nadir end.

Civility In Argumentation

Blogs, like the superficial world of social network such as fb provide a medium to convey and also hear others. But the difference is that it is not of little substance as the later. An opportunity to see one's thoughts or even ramblings in print and in cloud all for free! (Imagine having to convince a publisher to bet on us). However it will be preposterous to presume and be dictated by one’s fantasies and bias than by argumentation. To rubbish the other out of prejudice will tell more of one’s cussedness. To hold the view that if you are against my opinion you are against me, a dictum followed by Mrs. Indira Gandhi and in the recent past by George.W.Bush is churlish in the least.

Are we able to receive criticism as we would invite appreciation? What would be the reaction to someone who may not agree with us? What would we do when we see someone able to threaten our beliefs or opinions which we know though inexplicable, we need to cling to for comfort or, for it may be necessary to cater our ego and may be even because of the fear of being disrobed? And do we use obstinacy as a shield of defense?  In the final analysis we feel offended .don’t we? Some of us would all the while and some, sometimes.

A tongue in cheek remark! “Yes, your statement, the clichéd judgment you made …, no comments as usual, you may carry on.” Doesn’t that tell more of the acerbic state of mind than a discerning repartee? Or it can also be because of misconstruing. In any case the loss is the spirit of debate.

It is a matter of fact that matters that are governed by social etiquette may not be confined to sexes, they overlap; there are certainly characteristics predisposed in the male of species and differently in female of species (man and beast). The matter is more evolutionary and how Nature has chiseled. And gregarious social life or formative and later day education may not necessarily completely erase evolutionary predilections. I’m apprehensive of commenting on such issues as there can be veiled and wanton statements categorising me as a women baiter. Which will certainly be as wild an allegation borne more out of inability to understand what I state and the spirit behind it? A statement of the kind mentioned in the paragraph above is deliberately left ambiguous and more than that it is subtle and crafty, assigned to euphemistically convey a message. “You conceited arse hole, you may brag but I don’t care, because I can never be wrong.”

It, to me would be akin to a termagant who wants to convey to the spouse her displeasure towards his indifference for something she fancies, but would love to exult in conveying messages through subterfuge, innuendo and as ambiguous as possible, (also say beat about the bush) to finally wear him out rather than confront him directly and tell him in simple language what she wants or means. Pertinently, not doing so is also the sign of the inability to convey in words and with reason why the person dissents. Also tells the confused mind the person keeps, though he/she would love to think otherwise-crafty allusions rather than facts that should convey the reaction in logical terms. An insurgent, guerrilla mentality perhaps!

I’m afraid of the notion, be it in me or other that what one says and believes is right and inviolate. Especially when one do not will to explain. And if the other with sufficient conviction and reason can decimate our notion, it is cussedness to play spoil sport and brand the person as intemperate and biased.

Tim Sebastian is an articulate person most of us would remember seeing on the BBC talk show, “Hard Talk”. He had pilloried many famous and infamous through his well-directed questions, crispy comments and retorts. His well-researched interviews have elicited many truths and made the many known for notoriety perspire in discomfort. And not that his observations were never repudiated effectively by the interviewee! Once, he was asked what he feels when sits across the table with the famous and the infamous. He commented that, it was his job and what he ensures at the closure of an interview was only to not shake hands with criminals and the ones with blood on their hands. Well are there folks amongst us with blood on their hands?

I suppose that in a discussion in the social world, it is necessary that one dose show the sagacity and civility to respect a different perspective, or question it with logic. And not be obstinately offended by a critique or comment understood incorrectly and in a wrong context. For being repudiated argumentatively is in fact a graduation to an improved state of mind and thought. Isn’t it so?

Battle of The Bulge

The battle has not been fought to win .It was not fought at all.

Now the counter offensive could be late and the enemy is entrenched over the past decade and more. And once dug in, the enemy is in a strong hold and may require a war to annihilate. But then where can one seek the will? The will, the determination and perseverance to wage the war, move meticulously forward and evict the enemy from what he has usurped? 

But introspection is required too. Any failure in battle calls for a post- Morten. And that revealed high magnitude of lethargy and indifference, a casual nonchalant attitude, a lack of proclivity to discipline perhaps! And that may have brought forth the loss in the battle of the Bulge. Someone opined. “Well actually the battle is not lost, with will there can be a reversal.” I suggested the battle is a losing battle, a lost battle – “The battle of the Bulge”.

I looked in the mirror, turned sideways and saw the profile too. Made no difference, seemed more pathetic. On a 180 cms tall frame a 92 kgs of mass! Goodness that is a well thirteen to sixteen kgs more than what is ideal and advised. 

I went back in the time machine past the last decade, and further beyond. It seemed like the journey in space through a black hole, decades, passed by and I went further, one, two, three and four or there about. I saw what may be justifiably alleged as the emaciated reality that was then. And that was, it was about 168 cms frame and about 45 kgs in mass. It brought back to me the profile of an Auschwitz survivor. A cousin of mine called me, H.W.Longfellow!

At twenty three, came financial independence and thence began the indulgence and excess in gastronomical predilections. Gluttony and devouring of spirits that did not see any need for restraint saw the Auschwitz image metamorphose into what glares back from the mirror today. Fortunately there was above mean levels of outdoor physical exertions, else, I may have simply dropped down flat, never to get back on my feet again or may have had the medical fraternity ripping open my rib cage to fix a few detours in my cardiac arteries. And also because of some good physical chemistry passed on genetically!

Rum then was the favourite liquid to cleanse the gastro- esophageal portions and to wash down gluttonous orgies. Rum, a typical byproduct of sugar cane and from molasses, very reliable elixir to deposit expanse around the mid riff! As means bettered, came along travels and with that, exotic spirits from the Rhineland, Bordeaux and the district of Cognac. However the fascination continued with the good old Indian whiskies and Rum and fabulous food never in dearth.

I moved away from the mirror to under the shower. When the cold water sprayed one me I mused. “What if the battle of the bulge is lost? There has been quite good memories and earned great companions, excellent indulgence in food and drinks, many places went, graduated a fair bit in the bitter, sweet and sour of life and in people. And in the final sum up, it has been a typical mortal existence with mixture of fun happiness, despair, sorrow and elation. Perhaps only got to remember to look ahead and not with crestfallenness. That sometimes is a tough ask. 

Losing the battle of the bulge may have enlightened me a bit of  what life is all about!