A Special Sunday

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Kalesh, an old friend of mine, entered into the confluence of marriage yesterday, in what I can surely expect, a wonderful ceremony. I could not attend it, as I had to be present at another important appointment. I wish my dear friend, Kalesh, a very happy and fulfilling married life. I had met Kalesh for the first time during my days at the Polytechnic. I recount a story from my days at the polytechnic, in Wall of Colours.

September 1 hasn’t ceased to surprise me yet. As you would too, be surprised to learn that another old friend of mine, Jisha’s marriage too was on the same day, at another place, in the same city. She is marrying her classmate from college days.

Kannur is a small city, when you think about what it lacks. However, when one thinks in terms of distances, this city separates places with obstacles one cannot imagine coming across in a city. An instance of which, I will recount here. Before that though, I would like to wish my friend Jisha, a very happy and prosperous marriage.

As I was busy on the Sunday, September 1, I took it to visit Kalesh and Jisha on day before. On the Saturday afternoon, as planned, I reached Kalesh’s house. However, what would have been a half hour bus drive, took me more than one hour. A grumpy traffic jam made me feel like I was riding a snail. I do not own a car; otherwise, I would have spent the whole day there, trying to figure out where to pick my way out. The bus driver was a skilled man. This is how the city becomes a sorcerer, who shows things that aren’t expected.  

After spending some time at his house, I took another bus to Kannur and went straight to Jisha’s house. It was after a long time that I had met her. A deluge of memories flowed out within my mind. We studied in the same class from fifth standard to tenth. We used to be rivals in studies. Every exam result was awaited with a mix of anxiety and eagerness.

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Although the city separated people and places miles apart, the memories that flooded in brought old times together. I did not long for the past though. It was already proved that my past was no better and glistening than my present. I prefer my present, over past, because the present has you in it, dear reader. In the past, I was just a scared and silent soul who always kept his safe distance from talking aloud and standing up for what he believed as truth.

Currently, I am reading the book titled, Quiet; The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain. Somehow, this deluge of memories I had, about my childhood days had a very close connection with the theme of this book. Quiet deals with introverts. It positions the introvert as a social outcast and at the same time validates a space for this personality style. Expressing my introvert nature was a constant disturbance I always lived with, during my childhood. I was blamed of being an introvert, and coaxed to become an extrovert, as if the latter is in some way a better state of being. I am very excited to be reading Quiet;The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking. A book review of Quiet; The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking will follow soon.

Often I get into situations, which tell me that I was in the right place and at the right time. This one was very much the like. Once again, I wish best for my friends.

The book review is sponsored by Mysmartprice.com.

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Pea for English

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On29 August 2013, I crossed a milestone in my teaching career. I planted a pea plant in the English class, literally. The idea behind this method that might seem an exaggeration is that the growth of the pea plant mirrors, somewhat closely, the steps involved in second-language acquisition. Preparing the soil [identifying the proper aptitude for language learning], Planting the seed [equipping the language learner with the basic laws of the second language], watering [reading on a daily basis, materials written in the language that is being learnt].

It was a challenging experience, just to set up the garden pot with a layer of rock at the bottom, then some soil, then some smooth sand, and then a mix of soil and cow dung. In order to give all the students in the class, a feel of how holding soil in one’s hand would be like, and prepare the space for planting the seed, I asked each one to take a fistful of soil and spread it in the pot.

Once, this task was done, I inferred some information about the attitudes of the students. Some of them were extremely careless about how they put the soil in the pot. They just threw the soil inside, and did not attempt to spread the soil and sand carefully. Some others, on the other hand, took the soil and spread it neatly inside the pot.

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Once everything was fixed, the principal was invited. She came in and inaugurated “Pea for English”, English coaching class. “As you sow, so shall you reap.” She mentioned in the conclusion of her address.

You might ask me why I chose to plant a Kerala pea-plant inside the classroom. Well, firstly, I always wanted to plant something in a classroom. Thankfully, it turned out to be a pea plant. Secondly, planting a seed is an archetype. Jungian archetypes are sure to connect among human minds, even if words spoken aloud, or written do not make sense. The unconscious self will pick up the sense in the teaching process, through its association with fertility and agriculture. This will enable language learning smoother, deeper, and effective. 
 

I am planning to take English language teaching to a new level, with the “Pea for English” classes. I may need some additional confidence and support, occasionally. So, please be there.   

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The Culture Blog

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The Indian Commentator—it’s been five years, now. Often I do an introspective article on writing or the purpose of blogging. Once, again, I am at a juncture, where I had to write introspectively, reading and reporting my inner self’s states. I feel that otherwise, I would not be able to survive the atrocious influences I live with. By atrocious influences, I mean, those ideas and people that believe success is to conform oneself to their way of looking at the world. These people ask me to be this or that, and entirely ignore my real self.

Yesterday, on 26 August 2013, I was thinking about page views on my blog. Whatever I was expecting, wasn’t shown at the counter. I felt depressed and lonely. It was a peculiar feeling that was close very much to the loneliness one suffers when left alone, bereft of all relatives and friend. Ah! I cannot explain. That very day, I had a busy class schedule and came back home tired and exhausted, much similar to this day, when I write this post. Yesterday I felt tired enough to quit publishing the article meant for the day. It felt unimaginably tiring. Today, after realizing what should have been done, instead of what should have been expected, I feel no pain and no exhaustion in writing this piece.

I made the previous post on Sunday, 25 August 2013, at 10.03 PM; forty-eight hours have been long enough for me to understand how important this blog is for me. I hope Google never stops providing me this opportunity, and kindly continue providing my blog to all the respective feeders and pages. Yesterday, I thought that I would not make regular posts from then onwards, as the page views hadn’t risen considerably as “I had expected”. It still was and is a very large chunk, which would have been thrilled me as a rookie five years back. Now, however, my preferences changed, apparently, and high expectations became a regular business. Right now, after forty-eight hours from the previous post, I feel, I am no longer alive, without the interaction with my regular readers.

Of course, after five years, it becomes a habit.

Yesterday, at my college, a student of mine came to me and said every one of her friends ignored her. She took serious issue, as she felt that others are avoiding her presence. As a teacher and their guide, I shared my advice with her. “Why is your friendship so mean?” I asked her. She looked at me flabbergasted, and said, “Sir, it is them…”

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“You didn’t get me,” I explained. “If you are expecting something in return for your friendship, such as care, concern, a biriyani, or money, then I would say that friendship is mean.” She shook her head in understanding and went back to class.   

It took me still a long time to understand the actual sense of my own words. I was expecting something (here page views) in return to the posts I share free with my readers. I had thought TIC was free for all. Never did I realize that it was not at all free for me. I was bound within the confines of the principle of expectations. Meanwhile, I was also gave myself up in front of the principles of success defined by others, for their benefits.    

This realization struck me once I moved closer to the edge of the urge to write. The inevitable had to happen. I must communicate with my readers, and share a part of my soul with them, no matter what. I decided. And so I am here, once again.

Post Postum: I published my book review of A Degree in Death, on Sunday. Normally, I take a day’s off from my blog on Sundays. So consider this; instead of a Sunday, I took it on Monday.

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Happy Birthday, Paulo Coelho!

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It’sbeen magnificent, not just for the Brazilian author, Paulo Coelho, but for the whole book-reading world. The frenzy some of his books created still lasts in the global culture. The Alchemist, The Witch of Portobello, Brida, and The Fifth Mountain, to name a few. Mr. Coelho’s books took the New Age intellectual revolution into the new millennium.

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If Castaneda’s books provide us with a line of awareness between the ordinary reality and the parallel ones, in Paulo Coelho’s literary universe, they merge into one. A very good example can be seen in The Alchemist. When Santiago and the alchemist were in the desert in front of the bandits, where they would later perform the miracle of being transformed into wind, we see this same merging of realities.

Five years back, in a small public library in Kannur, I discovered my first Paulo Coelho book. I had heard his name previously in the pamphlets and bullets published by one of the prominent publishers in Kerala. When I came across The Fifth Mountain, in that small public library, I did not hesitate to pick it.

However, I should not say, if my memory is not betraying me, I was entirely free of doubt just before taking the book that this would be a great read. I was hesitant enough, just like any one would be. I turned the pages and took the first page. It was lucid, simple, and direct. I took it, without another hesitation.

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In the preface of The Fifth Mountain I read that universal mantra of self-realization, for the first time. Remember, The Fifth Mountain was the first ever book I read, by Paulo Coelho. I did not even hear about The Alchemist, before I took The Fifth Mountain in my hands. Perhaps, I had heard about The Alchemist from the bulletin, but I could not recall such an event now.

“And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

These words reminded me that my dreams are not mine alone, but they have a reason to be in my mind. Whatever I write from here onwards, about how this quote helped me to put life into perspective, would, I am afraid, become a shapeless outburst of my gratefulness to the author, to the teacher. August 24^th is his birthday.

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I wish my dear writer, Paulo Coelho, a very happy birthday. May you receive the best of joy, health, and sunshine.   

I regret addressing Paulo a Brazilian author, in the beginning of this short piece. He is very much a universal writer, given his reach and impact.

    

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