What Type Are You?

Thefirst part of the book is titled ‘The Extrovert Ideal’. As I plodded through Part One, I felt more drawn towards the tactics and means employed in order to equip people to be better public speakers and team leaders. The idea that if you can talk unhesitant and on a short notice, your presence would claim a considerable authority. People like fast talkers and enthusiastic go-getters. The down side, of course, is that those who feel uncomfortable about talking aloud in classrooms or in public gathering would be marginalized.

Susan Cain’s bestselling nonfiction, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking hooked me with its subheading. “The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking” is the central discourse of the book. That explains why I found Quiet interesting.

Ever since, I started attending school, no one ever found me in the school sports or arts festivals. Once, when I was forced to participate in an oratory, I stopped the speech in the middle and realized if I stayed on the stage a moment more, I would faint. Those were great lessons of human psyche to me, first hand of course, that people faint when faced with extreme stress.

Susan Cain; Image Courtesy: Google

In sports, thankfully, I never qualified the initial qualifying levels. Although I was athletic enough, a certain lack of inertia held my limbs tighter than how the tar holds the roads in Kerala.

I knew what my problem was. Someone had informed me. Perhaps, one of my parents, that I am an introvert. It sounded like ‘caveman’, for the ten year old that I was. Someone told me, when I was reluctant to go out to play with other kids that I should not behave like an introvert. That is bad, they said. ‘Bad’ meant dirty, unacceptable, secretive, and this might lead me to delinquency, they warned me.

I had thought that introversion was something like a habit, then. I did not know where I picked it up, though. Anyway, the next best thing was to ‘improve’ my personality. That’s when an individual begins the incessant struggles to fit in. Everyone who lives in such a social set up must have realized where I am driving at.

From her introduction onwards, Susan Cain drives towards the same direction. In Part One, however, what fascinated me was how a culture has found out the measures for an individual to stand out and lead. This was what I was talking about in the first paragraph.

Image Courtesy: Google

Yes, indeed, this is the quest for purification of personality, in order to attain some sort of outgoing persona. This desire governed much of my childhood. I also suspect that my increased curiosity about how to be an influential person with spoken word has to do with the profession I handle as my day job—teaching.

I meet students who are on the extrovert side, mostly, and others who are introverts. I also find ambiverts in class, a term I learnt from Susan Cain’s book. Part One of Quiet follows the history of how American culture changed from the “Culture of Character” to the “Culture of Personality”.

It is impossible for me to go back to that memory and think about myself standing in front of those many people at my school, in that public speaking competition. Although I had memorized all my speech thoroughly, the pressure was so much that I could not keep track of it at all. My dad had written that speech. I felt I let him down. I really did.

I still remember, in another speech, which was conducted exclusively in classroom, asking my family if I could pitch an idea all by myself, right on the spot, as if it is a reply or supplementation of the previous speaker’s words. Countering, arguing, and being spontaneous to the moment seemed fun. Remember, the same scared owl dropped the platter in the middle of the speech, the previous time. However, my family told me not to attempt this bravado at this point. Later in my life, I realized that I was a better public speaker, if I were spontaneous. Being an introvert, I had figured out to tackle the issue of forgetting the words I memorized and building confidence in front of the public, though I never really got a real chance as a kid to practice this.

Quiet will let you know about yourself or at least what type of person you live with, in a skillfully nonjudgmental way. 

This book review is sponsored by Mysmartprice.com.        

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Pea for English: Follow Up

Pea for English is the new English training strategy devised on the premises 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], etc.

Image Courtesy: www.finewallpaperss.com

We planted a pea plant in the first semester B. Com classroom, in a garden pot. Each day three students would pour small quantities of water to the seed still in slumber inside the soil. I had made take an oath that the ones who water the plant must participate in a thirty minutes reading, each day. So each one responsible to water the plant would read for at least half an hour, anything they come across.

If no one participates in the ritual, the seed would not get water that day. Of course, the students are extremely enthusiastic to learn English. Every day, since the planting of the seed, they watered it and observed the progress. The seed, however, was not showing any progress at all.

An image taken on September 5: The garden pot, after the intrusion.

Today, on 5 September 2013, to my utter shock, the garden pot, in which we had planted the pea seed one week back, had many shoots of mustard leaves in it. At first, I could not even discern what those tiny green out growths in the soil were. One of the students from the class said, they were mustard seeds. Clearly, something had gone wrong. After a limited, but efficient enquiry, I realized what happened, and the shock of that still rings in my veins. Someone from the senior students had bullied with the garden pot.

Someone had poured boiling water in the pot and then, later, in order to communicate a conspicuous message of threat, spread mustard seeds in the pot. Clearly, the number of persons involved is vague. They may be two, perhaps, or more. It does not matter who did it, or how many of them were there. What matters ultimately, is why they did such a horrendous action.

Planting the pea seed was a symbolic action—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. I am sure that this approach will enable language-learning effective. While working on a project full of archetypal symbols and psychological stimulators, the last thing I needed was am interruption. However, I received just the same, and a grave one indeed.

 

Signs of evil: Mustard seeds in the 'Pea for English' pot.

If ‘Pea for English’ was intended to invoke the unconscious capabilities of language acquisition, the bullies had delivered a symbolic blow to the attempt. What I am concerned about more, right now, is not about the Pea for English program itself, but for the mental health of the students. The incident must have surely shaken their unconscious mind, even though they seem not much aware of it, consciously. My next step should be to control the emotional damage in the students.

Both this incident and its influence upon me and the students would definitely etiolate the smooth proceeding of the language class. I wonder what their motives might have been. Were they somehow trying to convey a message to me that I should not give those students the special coaching I was planning to. Or, was their deed just a reflection of the unconscious cultural attitude of Kerala society?

Kerala is notorious for its ill handling of issues related to development, growth, and ethical integrity. An ill equipped and largely corrupt governmental system works its ways down the hill in preserving nature, because for most the “development experts” hired by the government, development means transforming the state into desert, much like the UAE. Any novel idea or innovative model of environmental and social management always meets with harsh criticism and physical assault. Ethical integrity is considered arrogance or dissidence. What else can one expect from a society that has rotten to its core? William Shakespeare’s metaphor of an empty hell is supremely apt here. A dysfunctional society manifests itself in the demonic practices of its individuals.

Image Courtesy:www.uramamurthy.com

The day I found the mustard seeds in the garden pot coincided with the much-celebrated Teachers’ Day in India. On 5 September, the second president of independent India, Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan was born in 1888. He was a prominent philosopher and taught even at the legendary Oxford University. This seems not to be a mere coincidence to me. What I had planted as a symbolic path to knowledge has given me the fruit I was expecting—knowledge. I told the students this; there will be obstructions to each of your dedicated attempts to do better. This should not budge you from your path.

It would be facile to say I am not shaken by the unacceptable event that took place. I am, very much. However, I would like to investigate into their motivation. I am sure I would benefit from it, as seeker of the true knowledge, ‘epignosis’.  



Also refer: Pea for English

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Petrol Price Hike: Revelations

Discretion advised  

Irikkur-Tellicherry Road: on a quiet day

Whenthe price for petrol was increased, I thought the world would end. The politicians, media, and everyone I met on the road was bantering about the same issue. Some worker’s unions called off a motor vehicle strike. Good thing, I thought.

I had thought that I would be able to utilize the one day off by spending time with myself, recharging my batteries, reading a book, and taking a nap. However, there were some familial obligations. Some workers had been arranged on this day to clean our property surrounding the house, and modify some of the landscaping. The question was how I am going to make use of the full potential of the day in my favour.

I had to go out to the town and buy some vegetables, in the morning. Lunch had to be arranged for the workers at home, for there were no restaurants open on this day. I was also doubtful about the vegetable stores. Due to the motor vehicle strike, the number of people on the streets is very less. Therefore, the possibility for stores to open, too, was less. As the motor vehicle strike showed the public anger at the wrong policies of the government, most people might prefer staying at home (except the workers, at home. Strange!). That is how we, in India protest.

Indians, have a childish sulking temper that would be inflamed whenever we discover a government doing backhand deals with corporate powers to sell its own citizens, raise prices of necessary items, or face charges of corruption. As a result, we, the people, would adamantly state that we do not go for work. That’s that!

I have a ten-minute walk to the nearby town, from my home. It was mostly an abandoned road, on which I treaded. The sky was surprisingly bright and blue, and the distant mountains shone in emerald blue with smiling clouds to skirt them from the flirting sun. I thought about my life. I work five days a week, as a lecturer. Sometimes, it even extends to six days. Mostly, I end up having no time with me to work on other areas needed to make one’s life worth living, such as reading, leisure-time, and of course, writing- the elixir for my life.

A white dove fluttered its wings over my head. I heard its sound like in a dream. It reminded me of an old friend of mine, a mysterious old man I met at the sea-town of Tellicherry— Alfadur. He had taught me how to create the Portal of Forward Movement with one’s intent, and how to deliver oneself from the obstacle of staticity.

By staticity, Alfadur had meant the state, where all human beings are unable to perform any sort of forward movement. I was, sadly in the same static state. I did not want to participate in the household and mundane activities on this day, as it was the only day I get to do some recreational work and writing. Alfadur had taught me that I could create the Portal of Forward Movement and project my inner self through the Portal into the dimension I wish to exist. The energy needed for this process was the ‘wish’ or ‘intent’.

I had heard about ‘intent’ in Carlos Castaneda’s works as well, in which it gets a deeper sense as close as the divine power that exists in the cosmos, in an omnipresent state. Alfadur did not tell me about that side of ‘intent’. For him, ‘intent’ was the same as ‘urge’. He called the cosmic energy ‘Ya’, instead of ‘intent’ as seen in Castaneda’s works. Perhaps, Alfadur chose a different word.                 

 

The Portal of Forward Movement

The conditions required for creating the Portal of Forward Movement were ideal to that day’s—a crystal clear sky with shreds of clouds, with a blue scenery in the vicinity. I stopped walking suddenly, and focused all my attention on a piece of cloud floating above me, up in the sky. Then I closed my eyes, and projected all my intention forward, into the space in front of me. The cloud materialized in front of me in a circular shape that stood vertically.

A step forward could make me capable of projecting myself into the dimension of altered reality, where I could write as I want and curl up in my bed with a book, for as long as I wish. And of course, kiss my girl.

After ten minutes, I reached the town. Only one shop that sold vegetables opened. I did not know what I did there. When I came back home, I had a pack of potatoes, and one cucumber, exactly what my mother asked me to buy.

At the same time, there was another me, at another dimension, bringing his words to life.

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A Special Sunday

Image Courtesy: Google

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.

Image Courtesy: www.wallcoo.net

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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