Coming Fresh on Hartal

Image Courtesy: Google

The daunting task of opining anything fresh on Hartal brings us to its origins. Although there is nothing, much new or seemingly ‘fresh’ about the origin of Hartal, at this time, when in Kerala Hartal is taken up by the opposition, against the ruling party’s adamant stand on keeping its Chief Minister on the chair after the allegations against him on corruption, it will be interesting to notice when and where it was born.

The political system, currently, is maneuvering through one of its worse times of ethical collapse, not just in Kerala, but also in many other parts of the world. This status of the world affairs too makes it necessary to go back to the past and look for answers. Hartal was the answer Gandhi proposed as an effective strategy for civil disobedience. Since then in India, Hartal has been a tool, handy for political parties to assert their supremacy over individual liberty and over other parties.

The moment the government hikes the price of petrol, they will announce a Hartal. A political leader dies and before you know, there will be a Hartal. It seems, everyone, including the parties who announce Hartal and those who are subjected to Hartal, the common man, enjoy this political strategy. The most enjoyable aspect of this strategy is the holidays it provides the common people. Although, I doubt the efficiency of Hartal in bringing the government to reduce the hiked prices or adopt better reform measures, I should not deny it as ineffective. It is part of our cultural heritage. Denying anything close to cultural heritage would be to lose your life or being deported to some other planetary system. (You will have to look for other planets, mostly because no one else on the earth is going to take you in, especially if you are charged with treason.)

Image Courtesy: Gandhifoundation.org

Let us consider options to share the positive aspects of Hartal. The conflicts in Syria and Egypt could find missile free solutions in Hartal. The Indian model of Hartal often harbours violence and there would be chances of a good grenade throwing. However, never in India, did we use missiles on Hartal. Adopting Hartal in a comparatively nonviolent way is a potential game turner for countries like Syria.

Non-violence and ethical integrity were two pillars, the architect of Civil Disobedience in India, M. K. Gandhi based the system on. Therefore, the affectivity of Hartal under circumstances not envisioned by the architect of the idea would be catastrophic. Whoever uses it must use it cautiously. 

You may also like reading: "Strike-Day Chicken"     

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Saritha S. Nair and the Mutiny 2013

Image Courtesy: Google

Does what happen now in anyway correspond to what happened before? Let me put the question another way—is our present influenced by past or history?

Let’s buckle the seat belt, here we go.

Much like any other democracy, in Kerala too, it is very common among people to come out on the streets to protest against the policies of the government. On a moderately bright day in June, in the year 2013, a large crowed swarmed on to the streets in Trivandrum, the capital city of Kerala, a small state in India, situated along the western cost, like a stripe in green. They threw stones at the police and the police threw grenades and teargas shells in return, at the mob.

The cause of the protests was a controversial revelation that broke out through some television quasi-news channels, the previous night. The Chief Minister of the state was accused of misleading a businessperson to invest money with a solar panel distributor. People associated with the solar panel company were recently arrested for playing fraud and stashing the money. The businessman maintained that the CM’s opinions about the company influenced his decision to invest money in the company.

The CM, at first, denied meeting with this man and the head of the solar panel company, Saritha S. Nair. Later, after the news revelation, of course, he had to back off from his previous statements. This was the final blow. Previously, the personal staff of the CM’s office were also either arrested or removed from their respective positions, due to illegal involvement with Saritha and her partner Biju and their solar panel company. According to the CM and the government, the CM met the businessman for some other purpose on another day, which was not the day mentioned by the businessman. The ruling party also declared that Saritha was not with the businessman, either, when he met the CM.

The ball had started rolling and it was unstoppable. The next day of the news telecast, the youth wing of the opposing parties came onto the streets.

When I was coming out of a restaurant after my lunch, I saw newsflash saying, ‘street war in Trivandrum’. There was a lot of smoke, blood, dust, and people. They announced a Hartal for the next day as well, asking for the resignation of the CM.

Needless to say, I was taken back to an event that occurred almost two centuries back in India; the Great Mutiny of 1857. I address the present events in Kerala, a Mutiny mostly because ‘mutiny’ is no longer a derogatory word. Our revolutionary nostalgia is associated with this word.

 

Image Courtesy: Google

Many scholars identify this Indian uprising against the British as the first war against the British. Initially it was termed Sepoy Mutiny, but later the former version was accepted, which was more romantic. Indian freedom struggle benefited greatly from the argument that in 1857 Indians fought their first battle against the British. It sounds rather like a consolation, though. We had fought and failed in 1857. Even if we fail in the current struggle, no one can blame us for under-performance. This might have been the thought behind celebrating the mutiny. The failure in 1857 had given purpose to the freedom struggle that followed.

Failed mutinies have a charm. They become tragic memories, and give us each year an anniversary to mourn for. In victory, some people often forget to learn, however, in failure, learning surely happens and the memory remains fresh throughout as something to be amended. If what happens at present in Trivandrum becomes a failed mutiny, it may inflame certain other more harmful trends. Meaning, if the government takes control of the situation, by suppressing the unrest, it will burn for a long time. If the government doesn’t, again, ‘the street war’ would continue and become more barbaric. It’s time to stop the ride and look for answers. Where would our first impulse lead us, in the search for answers?

Are we realizing that past has its fingers behind the ventriloquists of the present? Can we look back into the history and find answers for the present?     

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Is your Love Blind?

On effective writing

Image Courtesy: Google

What’s your best chance of surviving as a freelance writer? Before answering this, let us tie this question up with the time and space in which we live. In the present world, earning money from writing words is one of the most difficult jobs. That is what makes at least some of us wish, if we could live in the 19^th century when you didn’t have such competition.

Don’t click the corner button please; I know the reason why you went through the first paragraph. The reason is the same as that which spurred me to write these very words.

If you are a beginner, let me make myself clear—my intention is not to put you off from your writing dream. On the other hand, I am trying to address an issue, which due to its wild impact, remains unspoken-about in any writing class or book or web page about writing.

In my opinion, the question of survival is not a negative one at all. Just like a river that detours around any obstruction and finds for itself a new shore and a whole lot of life forms along those shores, the concomitant of being a writer is to find new paths and create new shores. If you understood my stand about the question of survival, you would also have understood the question being transformed into a sign, a sign that calls upon the need for a vital detour.

Inevitably, a writer would be forced to choose or create a niche for him or her under such concern for survival; what I mean is, being genre specific. Most of them, dreaming about a literary grandeur, might want their profiles full of academic writings, in which the writer proclaims his independence from the readers. This style, which is jargonistic and dull, often drives readers away from spending their money, especially for a new writer.

On the other hand, if the writer becomes reader specific, he or she can find a space better accessible.

This detour also leads some writers to dedicate themselves in areas where they are good at or they actually find their love in. This helps in your maturation as a writer. For those who think popular literature or writings that are made for the common people second grade writing, I have only one thing to say, great books are never away from people and so are great writers. However difficult the concurrent situation is, even if we all wish to be Charles Dickens or Stephen King, the ultimate question is always the same; how committed are you to your work?

Recently, one of my friends, an aspiring writer, emailed me a You Tube video link, an interview of John Irving, in which Irving says if he were a writer of 27 starting off his career NOW, he would have been tempted to shoot himself.

I asked my friend dejected; what are you planning to do with your life now?

He had a smile and said; I posted this video on my Facebook wall and sent it to many debuting writers too. It sure will thin out much of my competition!

He meant that the love for his craft is total and blind and that he would never quit. 

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Need Kidney

From what I understand, a healthy human being can survive with just one kidney. However, any living organism requires something else, more than an organ, air, or food. It’s kindness.

Someone’s heart needs a kidney.

Larry Swilling is an American, from South Carolina. His wife, Jimmie Sue has a failed kidney. She was born with only one kidney, which started slowing down the December of 2011 (some say, from 2012). Those of my readers who are from America must have heard this story, already. I do not want to recount it here, for sympathy. My readers from other parts of the world need to know what happened next. And for them, I will tell the rest of the story.

Before I tell you what is next, I must make a request. If you are in America, living, working or born there, here is your chance to help a fellow being. You can donate your one kidney or suggest a medical facility where they have a storage bank, so that this story can have a good ending. The number to contact is below, you can see that also in the picture.

Larry Swilling
Image Courtesy: Independentmail.com

Jimmie Sue’s blood group is O+. She has been treated by the Medical University, S Carolina.

Most importantly, it is not just about a vital organ, but also about benevolence and love. Let us show our love and concern in prayers to these couple. Let their love remain forever, and may their hearts be able to bear every hardship placed in front of them. Let us pray.

When Jimmie Sue needed a kidney, the first choice was family. No one matched, though. Larry Swilling’s kidney was not a match either. Jimmie was on the donor list too, which is the order according to which kidneys will be provided to those registered. The kidneys available through this list would be from a dead donor. In order to get an organ through this list, it would take about two to three years. Moreover, patients who receive kidney from a living donor tend to survive for a longer period than otherwise. This made Larry Swilling take a step no one had ever tried before.

Newspapers reported Larry saying, “She’s my heart.”

Larry Swilling and Jimmie Sue
Image Courtesy: CBS

From the next day onward, people saw on the streets of South Carolina, with a sandwich board on his neck, the 78 years old Larry Swilling, walking miles and miles, asking passersby, “We need all the hope and prayers we can get.” (Courtesy: CBS News)

A man is in a quest to save his heart. The sandwich board on his neck reads, “NEED KIDNEY 4 WIFE 314-0212.”

From what he shared with news channels, he receives many calls from around the world, even from countries like Egypt and Sweden. No one, though, has come forward, surprisingly, yet, as a donor.

Larry's heart, Jimmie Sue
Image Courtesy: CBS

Larry Swilling seems to be a man of honor and dedicated husband. That proves to be the one and only reason for this news to appear here, on The Indian Commentator.

May this time, Larry Swilling gets a call from a donor. We Pray.    

PS: Those images made my eyes wet.          

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Wall of Colours and Other Stories

Thanks to my cover designer, Kate Martini, Wall of Colours and Other Stories looks marvelous and charming. Many people, through Facebook, commented about its so being. I am grateful to Kate and her designing skills. I am also grateful to all my readers, friends, and family, for being patient with me. I can very well understand that your hearts are big, and love unfathomable, and so is my book. I can tell, without any speck of doubt that there is a story for everyone’s taste, in Wall of Colours and Other Stories. It has a big heart, and unfathomable love behind each word scribbled in it.

If you think this post is written for self-publicity, I dare say you are not correct. My intention behind writing this piece is purely to share my excitement with you, as I always did whenever something so deeply touching and moving occurs in life. I find myself standing at a juncture, beyond which everything seems more meaningful and fulfilling. The moment I published my book, I have given a piece of my spirit to the Cosmos. I strongly believe that the Cosmos is not a stormy sea with only one ship of life surviving, but the Cosmos is a place teaming with all types of life, ‘beyond’ as well as ‘within’ our grasp. This thought thrills me. My book, Wall of Colours and Other Stories shares a world of stories, with the Cosmos, and with all those life forms, physical and non-physical.

In the previous post, I mentioned how I felt when I first observed the Kindle version of Wall of Colours and Other Stories in my Kindle reader for PC. A similar excitement swept my pleasantly chaotic mind, when I noticed my title in Amazon.com. When I scrolled down the page, I also found Dan Brown, with his latest book Inferno, Khaled Hosseini, and his latest novel And the Mountains Echoed, and James Patterson with his book, The Second Honeymoon. These books were showcased in the “You may also enjoy them” section in amazon.com. I cannot mention how it felt to see my own book on the same page with those masters’.   

Then a comment from one of my friends in Facebook, reminded me of Sidney Sheldon. In his memoir written using the craft of the novel, Sheldon describes his early worries as a writer. He says that he was unsure about the sales of his books. Worried that he could not sell a single copy of his latest book, he would always go to the nearest bookseller, and bought a personal copy, assuring the sale of that one book that he always feared won’t sell.

A few people bought Wall of Colours and Other Stories, the previous day. I will call it the Beginner’s Sign. It is a true encouragement for any writer, without a dedicated million-number fan following. I take is as a sign saying to me, ‘you are in the right path. Yes, you are.’

My day job does not permit me to involve in writing full time. With your support, I can quit my day job and focus entirely on writing. This is what I ask for, from you, a gesture of kindness. Art is the bridge between hearts. I feel proud that I constructed one, with Wall of Colours and Other Stories.

Here is the link to my paperback and kindle editions. You can visit these links, even if you hold no intention to purchase a copy. The price is amazingly low, though. Still, if you do not intent to buy a copy, Amazon.com offers a variety of other services, such as, for example, Facebook connect. You could LIKE the Wall of Colours and Other Stories page, and share it on your Facebook, Twitter, or any other social networking platforms. I would greatly appreciate that.

With this paragraph, I had thought I would complete this write-up. The conclusion was good, if not super cool. Something else, though, was on the mind of the Writer of the Book of Life, God.

I overslept today (4 July 2013, in India), as the classes were suspended due to heavy rain. I woke up with the sound from a call my mother was attending, in the next room. It was from my cousin, Dileep James. His voice was trembling with excitement, as he now had a copy of Wall of Colours and Other Stories in his hands. He talked with me, and I was overwhelmed too. After the telephone call, we had a great video chat in gmail.

He was flipping through the pages, showing the front cover, the spine, and the back cover to me, and to my family, who swarmed around me, over the camera. Then he was opening the pages and showing the quotes I used in the beginning, by my grandmother, Anna. I could see his eyes, watery with excitement, face beaming.

That was when, for the first time, my family came to know that I really, "really" published a book, and managed to sell copies. Laughter, questions, tears, and smiles followed.

I just want to say how grateful I am, to you, my dear brother for giving me this wonderful morning, and a day that I can hardly ever forget in my life.

.Love.

Here is Wall of Colours and Other Stories, for you, my loyal friend.

Paperback: HERE

Kindle:  HERE

By the way, did I tell you, I have an author page at amazon.com, now? Yes, I do have a page. You can visit me here! And please do share the page in your Facebook and other pages. I appreciate your views on the page. So please share it in the comment box!

About Anu Lal
If you liked this article, you might like my book too. Take a look.

Anu Lal is the author of Wall of Colors and Other Stories. He lives in Kerala, South India. He blogs at The Indian Commentator 

You can catch up with him in Facebook too.      

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Wall of Colours in Kindle

Teaser: Back-cover preview of the paperback.
Cover release will be on 1 July 2013

June 25^th was a Tuesday and I was required to visit the college I work at, in order to attend a meeting there. My classes only began on 26^th. I teach English, and English classes are required only for the first year students. The college was dedicated to applied sciences; therefore, there is no English major course at the college.  

I still remembered from the previous day’s call from the college that the meeting started at 3 pm. I was required to reach there only at two in the afternoon. That was quite relaxing, since I always had a peculiar distaste towards the hurly-burly for being late. I woke up at eight in the morning, took a long time for morning chores, and sat down in front of my computer. (My home computer, which everyone in my house uses, I mean. I do not own one personally, yet).  

The paperback printing of my book had already begun and Amazon had asked me to upload a file for its kindle version. I was happy. After three minutes, the Kindle Direct Publishing site showed that it might take a few more minutes for the conversion of the Word document into e-book format. I waited. A button turned and turned at the left side of the box, in which the above-mentioned message was showing.

Upload and conversion were successfully completed.

The next sign was telling me below the upload box that I can now see the preview. I could either use the online previewer in ‘Kindle Fire’ format, or download a brand new previewer into my computer. I already had a ‘Kindle for PC’ application in my computer. Therefore, I chose another link, which said, ‘download a preview’.

The Button turned, a blue book-like image blinked with a ‘.mobi’ extension, close to the bottom of the screen. I placed the cursor of the mouse on the blue book image and clicked the right button. From the list that popped up, I chose ‘Open.’ Another button went round and round above the cursor of the mouse. I waited to see it stop. Before the next three minutes, the boy, reading a book under a dark tree, appeared. It opened, and there it is.     

It looked fine; a bright patch of colour, among all the other e-books—Treasure Island, Pride and Prejudice, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and Wall of Colours!

God! My book was right there, in front of my eyes, just a double click away from opening.

Some people who have come across this page and confronted with this post might know the journey I had, the risks I took and the wonders it all opened to me. Those are people, who have been following my creative life, on and off line. I thank all of them.

For the new visitor, my word is this: hang on; you are about to experience a ride of tales of the wonderful, and the mundane.

Wall of Colours will be yours, on 1 July 2013.

I went to the meeting at the college that day, but I was not the same wannabe writer anymore. Something had changed, and the image of my book preview, in the kindle reader remained in my eyes.  

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Monsoon in Syria

Image Courtesy: The Atlantic.com

I wrote a very romantic piece on Monsoon, towards the end of May, by which time Monsoon had just started to make its presence felt. Rain clouds were arriving in the sky in bundles. It suggested the end of the rudeness of summer. However, I could not publish the article. Why? It was too romantic, for the reality that followed.

The following reality necessitated the pondering of the pre- and post- Monsoon social life in India. I realized that as the saying goes, the Changaran, who climbed the coconut palm, was still on the palm. No one brought him down, yet. This is an old adage suggesting procrastination, changelessness and corruption (popular in Malayalam language, in Kerala, southern India).

Monsoon is not just a natural phenomenon. Culturally and socially, humanity has responded towards this phenomenon, and assimilated it into the varying spectrum of cultural experiences. Still, each year, in Kerala, the land of Monsoon, once the rain comes down, the roads become useless, schools and colleges have either their roof dripping or fell down, electricity becomes a rare commodity, as the supply lines are either flooded or made useless by the rust or falling trees. Most of the paddy fields and banana plantations suffer the harmful impact of water blockage or flood, as there is no proper channeling of the rainwater down sewages. In fact, in some places, there are no sewages at all. Imagine roads without sewages or the existing sewages ones filled with garbage dumps. The logical outcome about the condition of such a road would be devastation. Of course, so are many highways in Kerala. I am not even talking about the flood in North India. That is totally another issue. Let’s come back to Kerala. Who is responsible?

Is it a specific type of cultural amnesia? Why do people often forget a very poignant experience such as Monsoon, each year? To ask this, is to enquire also, why aren’t we learning lessons from our experiences? If you repeat the same mistakes again, it becomes a decision, as Paulo Coelho puts it. (Words may not be accurate, but the sense is.) Is this cultural dilemma unique to this tiny strip of land, in the Western Coast of India, called Kerala?

In order to find an answer to this question, we must first accept that social behavior and cultural changes should be studied in terms of ‘patterns’ rather than close analysis of isolated events. The pattern, to which our post-mass-amnesia situation in Kerala can be stripped down to, is; ‘A group of people repeating the same errors under a repeating event.’

 

Image Courtesy: Google

Let us analyze another specimen here—Syria.

The current situation in Syria do not much reflect Afghanistan in its past, as much as the crisis resolution measures under consideration by Russia, Britain, America and other global players. They say, it would be better to arm the rebels for securing justice. Some pundits propose this measure as the ultimate chance of the survival of the ordinary people from the government’s military brutality.

Why does it sound a lot like the American strategy, a couple decades ago, against the Russian invasion in Afghanistan? Uncle Sam armed the opposition there, back then, in the hope that finally, the poor tribal folks can defend themselves. We all know what resulted from this ‘solution’ in Afghanistan. In Syria, they plan a similar operation.

Pattern-- ‘A group of people repeating the same errors under a repeating event.’

God save them.

The power had just been cut off, one again. Power stays through the daytime, very rarely. So I took it to write on a paper, with a pen. A black, ballpoint pen, on a newsprint paper (low quality and pale in colour, since I cannot afford a costly sheet of paper at present.) is grinding its way down to the concluding part. For the time being, rain has come to a halt, but it will resume, soon, probably. I love rain.

I heard in a news channel, two days back; a minister in Kerala talk about the precautionary measures the government had already taken months back (even before the arrival of Monsoon), for Monsoon damages this year. The minister stated that he had dispatched a considerably good amount of money to the District Collectors, to be used under any natural calamity. The District Collectors, then, have to wait for the people to die and crops to flood. The newsreader, then inquired about the ditches in the middle of national highways and broken country roads, the sewages that were never cleaned, and the water blockage it created. The minister repeated his statement, once again; the same words, the same meaningless sequence of offers, the same assurances, and the same fake ethical integrity.

After the news, advertisements followed.

Image Courtesy: N Y Times.com

__THE END__

Thank you all for visiting my blog and taking this opportunity to read my free article. I request your support in the future too. The Indian Commentator is a non-profit blog. I depend solely upon your encouraging words of support. You can also share your views in the comment box below.

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