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.

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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.

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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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Pea for English

Image Courtesy: Google

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.

Image Courtesy: Google

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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Blue Moon of Food Network

"Are you ready to see your restaurant? Didn’t I tell you that I’d give you a second chance? Here is your second chance. Open your eyes.” And the restaurant owner and the family opens their eyes, and they scream in excitement.

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Thisis a usual climactic moment from the top show in the Food Network, Restaurant Impossible. A drop of tear appears even in the viewers’ eyes at this peak emotional moment. Next is the ritual of introducing the designer and builder to the owner. After this done, the chef, goes into a jovial carnival of sorts and partakes in the excitement of the owner and staff. Occasionally, the chef too gets involved with the service. Finally, the restaurant that was failing a day before was left with a new hope to the owner and staff.

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The unforgettable part of each show in Restaurant Impossible is the shouting, screaming, creative, hard working, successful, and tough, man with a sledgehammer, top chef, Robert Irvine. Born in Wiltshire, England, Robert Irvine successfully made his way into the green flame of the art of cooking after completing a successful career in British Royal Navy. Restaurant Impossible has completed five seasons and it is onto the sixth. It is one of the most viewed shows in Food Network with the highest rating.

What does Restaurant Impossible and Robert Irvine mean to me, someone from Kerala, South India? Robert Irvine’s towering personality is one element that keeps my interest in the show. Mr. Irvine shines like a blue moon throughout the show. Another element is the food and restaurant part. Many creative ways to realize a restaurant makeover can be learnt from each part of the show. Also these makeovers are brought to effect through the usage of cheap materials, making it possible for middle class and poor people to dream big within an affordable range of price. Small-scale business owners and restaurants with a bend to learn things and an open mind can learn plenty of techniques from the show. (This is sort of a multi-use mechanism).

      

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The second element that attracted me was the Indian reality of compulsive customer dissatisfaction. Almost every restaurant, (excluding a few star hotels, which I have no experience with, whatsoever) in India, especially in Kerala serves on a daily basis only to provide misbehavior, harmful food, and unclean circumstances to their customers.

The worst restaurant shown in Restaurant Impossible has the quality and standard for being one of the top most ones in Kerala. This shows the alarming state of things down here. However, it will be interesting to investigate into the reasons of survival and success, for these humbugging restaurants throughout Kerala. Often the result might surprise us.

In Kannur town, most of the restaurants survive based on necessity rather than quality. The large population density makes it impossible to avoid the presence of a restaurant at a particular area. The quality of the food they cook seems to be the last thing of concern. The nearest restaurant is mostly the only priority. Also the large number of people, workers, office staff, bureaucratic officials, students and others throng into restaurants, good ones or otherwise. If you didn’t like food from one place, by the time you found another restaurant fighting for a seat, either the food would be over, or you would die of hunger. In most cases, one just never finds that ‘good restaurant’ anywhere. This just is the reality.    

 

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One of my friends sent me the link to a show of Restaurant Impossible, a year back, for the first time. From then onwards I am fan of this show. From Kerala,YouTube is apparently the only way I could watch Restaurant Impossible. I watch the show often in weekends, and occasionally in the evenings, after a particularly hard day at college, where I work as a Lecturer. Largely, I feel connected with Robert Irvine due to his appeal as a teacher and a guide. What I see in Robert Irvine, as one of his greatest qualities, is his ability to make people realize their own worth, a concept that adores the Objectives in my Curriculum Vitae as well.

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67th Independence Day; India

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Indiais celebrating 67^th Independence Day. Our nation has achieved regularity in the reception of threats from terrorists, if not anything else! Pakistan has let it army dog on lose in the border in order to aggravate the element of uncertainty a bit higher than usual.

Indo-Pak struggle is not certainly without any significant meaning for the people of both India and Pakistan, other than the killings. Citizens of both nations invest a great deal of patriotic spirit on the apparent conflicts. Needless to say, with each bullet fired in the border, blood boils with pride and love for nation, in both countries.

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However, if this was only the case of patriotism, we could settle it with a cricket match. Why should there be a war? With a neighboring army with a fragile ego and senseless leadership, India should take extra precautions. However, thinking about war on an independence day would desecrate the significance of the occasion.

On this memorial of the day of securing our independence from a colonial power, let us try to figure out the true meaning of 'liberated' existence.

The Indian Commentator wishes all, a happy Independence Day! 

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Usher’s Daughter

The story of how it came to be

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Iwon’t take much of your time. It wound not take long, since I understand, your mind, the trickiest of mechanisms ever to exist on the earth is bound with the laws of practicality and sturdy short-attention. I bow. Talking about what happened yesterday becomes very important now, as I exist in the present, in order to let you know how I feel at present, and how the condition of my life is, at present. It’s your turn to choose whether you want to know.

It doesn’t matter. I will tell you anyway. I had seen this man whose name I did not know, at the Courthouse complex near Tellicherry. He was a middle-aged man and whenever I saw him, I felt that he had a story.

It was only yesterday that I tuned myself to the frequency of his story. It came out in a gush and I wrote it all down in a single sitting. I titled it “The Usher’s Daughter”. However, I was not very sure of the duty of the usher in a court in the present time. I am not an expert on the matters of court.

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Back in the old days, ushers announced the arrival of the judge. They were a species of bureaucracy that came down from the royal courts in historical times. After our brief self-introductions, on one evening at a wayside eatery near the court, he had told me his name. I used an imaginary name to my character in the story, though.

He had told me that modern day ushers in courts inside Kerala are a type of attenders who helped the judge handle files and related documents. Although after a short research, I found that the profession of the usher is a serious one and has the following definition.

“A court usher is a position in a law court. Tasks generally performed by court ushers involve escorting participants to the courtroom and seeing that they are suitably hydrated, as well as ensuring the secure transaction of legal documents within the courtroom and deciding the order of cases. Courtesy: Wikipedia. [Although, I found many other pages and sites that explain this, I decided to include Wikipedia definition here, because of its free availability. I support free content distribution through the internet, and so is TIC a free blog.]

Writing in a single sitting was hard. My back was aching like anything while my mind was racing with the story. I also felt my stomach muscles ache, due to the long hours of sitting. The dream was alive, the aim was visible. The story of the Usher and his daughter kept me going. I promised myself that I would surely spend some time listening to songs, take a bath in warm water, and relax myself, once I finish writing “The Usher’s Daughter”.

At about half past eight in the evening the alchemy was over and I stood up. Stretching my body to the maximum lengths I could, I breathed deeply.

I closed the word document in order to keep the story rest for some time, before editing. A Johnny Cash song came across in Youtube.

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“Melinda was mine
'Til the time
That I found her
Holding Jim
Loving Him
Then Sue came along
Loved me strong
That's what I thought…”

Johnny Cash was singing in his soulful voice. After almost four hours of hard work on the story of the Usher and his daughter, I was tired. ‘Solitary Man’ kicked in. I relaxed in the shade of the guitar that touched the chords with the rustic Southern music.

“…Don't know that I will
But until I can find me
The girl who'll stay
And won't play games behind me
I'll be what I am
A solitary man
Solitary man.”

I felt the same too. After our short acquaintance, the Usher, whose name I called Mohanan, his daughter, and some other interesting characters left me a solitary man.  

Anu Lal: During one of those fortunate free hours, at college, in writing.

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