SOMETHING TO CROW ABOUT

With growing age, my digestion is somewhat  compromised. Since I can eat easy to digest food only, I was safely sticking to carbohydrates and fruits. Then I got low back pain. With exercise, and medication, my condition improved. But it set me thinking, “ Are my muscles weakening because my protein intake is very low?” I am a vegetarian, and in this diet the protein intake is quite low.

So I decided to take at least one boiled egg every day. My family is hardcore vegetarian. So eggs are not welcome at all. So I had to buy a separate vessel for boiling the egg.  I read in the net that the white of the egg is rich in proteins and the yellow is a rich source of cholesterol. I wanted the amino acids but did not want the cholesterol. So I decided to take the white and discard the yellow.

After having eaten the white I did not know what to do with the yellow. How to dispose it?

I live on the fifth floor.  After having eaten the white, I silently went to balcony, and looked out for people below. There was one. I dropped the ball of yellow. Little was I to know that what is considered waste by me, can be a delicious food for some other creature. As the ball hit the open space below many crows swept on it and within minutes it was eaten by the crows, which were vying with each other for the tasty snack. I was surprised, because in our custom we first offer cooked rice to the crows every day.

The women place cooked rice of the balcony and call out to the crows to eat the offering. But to eat the rice only a few crows would come, whereas for the egg yolk there was tough competition.  

Customs apart, even birds and animals eat only what they like with eagerness. I have attached a video of the crows. I thought I should share this with you guys. Hope you like it. At least today I have something to crow about.  

DHIYO YONAH PRACHODAYAATH.

My  dad  was a good man. He was innocent, and carefree. He was studious, and was a double  graduate in commerce and  also in chemistry. His handwriting was clean and legible. He had passed  his Higher, in shorthand and typewriting.  But he was also an adamant man, not always for the right cause.

I as a student was constantly running away from mathematics. It was a subject, which I dreaded in any form, be it math, geometry, or algebra.

When I had completed my Matriculation, I had to join a one year course, then known as PUC; Pre University Course. I took commerce, logic and math. So I had to struggle for one more year with trigonometry and calculus

Then I had to do my graduation.  I wanted to  do English literature, as it was a language  I loved. My father was dead against this. He asked me, “ What are you going to become, a boring English lecturer, is it?”

My other choice was to join an Arts college, and learn painting, sketching  and sculpting. This too my dad forbade, by saying, “ You want to grow a  beard, hang a cross bag, and go knocking door to door to sell your paintings, is  it?”

He also adamantly refused to finance any of my interests. He wanted me to do BSC math. Because he was fascinated with math. Had I listened to him, I would have retired doing BSC math.

So he forced me take economics. There too until my second year, math chased me in the form of statistics.

Finally in the third year of my graduation, I could  exorcise myself from  all forms of math. Since I was not interested in economics, I had gone college, just to enjoy myself. I bunked classes, went to movies and generally roamed about Chennai aimlessly with college mates.

The final exams neared and we had 45 days of study holidays. I did not know a single word of economics. My friend who was good in studies helped me. He got me all the text books needed just to pass the course.

I started studying with the sole aim of clearing all the papers. Another friend from some other college with totally different subject joined me in my studies.

We studied daily for 22 hours. We slept from 4 AM to 6 AM., just for 2 hours a day for 45 days. Both of us cleared all papers. I just managed to get only bare minimum pass mark of 35% in one paper. I managed to get a 45% in the final exams and passed in third class.

Then I joined a consumer company as a salesman, and sold biscuits. Nothing of what I had studied for 15 years was of  use for the job which I did. 15 years wasted in learning things which I would never put to use. So poorly structured is our educational system, that it does nothing that is valuable to our life. But this system has been marketed so well, that the institutions make money , by giving us useless information. Then we have to thank people like my dad, who make their children do things in which they are least interested.  

God created man and gave him mind and intelligence. Man created education and never put to use the intellect given  by Nature .

Our fore fathers knew this pit fall of human beings.  And in their daily prayer to the almighty beseeched it to” inspire the intellect,”  in the words of the sage Vishwamitra- Dhiyo yonah prachodayaath.  

SUPER MA

The four main South Indian languages are Telugu, Kannada, Malayalam and Tamizh. The first three languages have their base as Sanskrit. The alphabets of Sanskrit are present in these languages, and many Sanskrit words are a part of these languages. The script alone is different.

Tamizh alone is singular. It does not have all the alphabets of Sanskrit, and there in a Tamizh word for every Sanskrit word. Tamizh, is a language that does not depend on Sanskrit fro survival.

 So while other languages have Ka, Kha, Ga and Gha, Tamizh has only Ka. And this Ka is pronounced both as Ka and Ga.  There is no Kha and Gha in Tamizh.

Similarly  in Tamizh  there are no Tha and Dha. The alphabet Ta is pronounced both as Ta and Da. We also do not have Chha and Jha. The alphabet  Cha takes the place of Sa Cha and ja. The pronunciation of alphabets and words are contextual in Tamizh.

For example the word nama Shivaya, can be pronounced as Sivaya, Shivaya, chivaya. However, there is no confusion among the locals. We understand what the other person is saying.

We have  a la and La [said with the tongue folded on the roof of the mouth ]

So Puli will mean tiger, but PuLi will mean tamarind.

We also have the unique Zha, which is pronounced like a hybrid between Ya and Za.

Recently there has been a slow modernization of Tamizh.  So now the younger generation  have standardized , la, La and  Zha  as la.  So we have to not only understand the alphabets, but also the words in the right context. 

Spoken English has found its way into all languages. Today no one can speak a sentence in Tamizh with at least one or two words of English substituting the local language.

All scientific inventions,   like fan, bulb, switch, bus car auto, iron, mixer, computer, train, key-board and many  more hundreds of English  words are a part of Tamizh.

Figure is an equivalent of a girl.

Tension is now a Tamizh word.

Torture is the equivalent of generating tension in Tamizh.

Matter, means many things depends on how it is used. It means matter as in English, or making out, or no problem, or what is your problem, and so on….

 The best way to describe any good thing is with the most popular and most used word in Tamizh- “SUPER,” thanks to  the Super Star Rajanikanth. It describes any thing good in animate, or inanimate.

There are people who resist such changes. I too feel sad. Earlier I used to get irritated when someone mispronounced a word and took efforts to correct them. But in TV as well as in movie songs people are now taking the wrong word for granted. Why no one corrects the singers, I do not understand. Maybe they themselves do not know, or maybe they do not care. Or maybe everything is beyond repair.  But there is nothing one can do. There are only two choices. Either resist or change. I opt for the latter, because anyway everything keeps changing.

OUTSIDE THE INSTITUTION

During those days we did not have a Pre-KG, LKG or UKG. Children went to school only in the first standard. By then they were 6 years old and picked up immunity. There were very few incidences of sickness. I do not remember falling ill at all, except for once in my 4^th standard. We did not drink mineral water, drank from the taps, ate everywhere but never took ill.

It was the first day in school for me.  It was a convent. My father took me the Mother Superior. Her name was Florita. She was a  tall fair woman, with a kind voice. She looked at me and said “Sit down , my child.” She was talking to my dad and after some time, when the interview was over; my father took me to my class. It was a long room with eight windows on each length side, and two windows on the breadth side.

The entrance divided the room into two halves. There were two black boards, back to back in the centre of the room. This arrangement divided the hall into two sections. There were two sisters, who taught the same lessons for both sections of first standard, simultaneously. I was seated on the right hand section. The sister who taught us was very strict and I was afraid of her, right from the first day. So I did not feel like going to school. A week after I attended the school, I told my dad about this fear. My father did not take my complaint lightly. Next day he addressed my fear to the Mother superior, and she completely understood my plight. Without wasting time, she shifted me to the other section, where the teacher was friendly. 

The school had high standards of education, but boys were allowed to study only until 5^th standard. After that, we had to shift to some other school. I was not good in my studies, and managed to come 18^th in a class of 30 students. However, my dad made no comparisons.

For 6^th standard, I was shifted to a local boys school. The standard here was so low, that I stood first in the quarterly exams. This school had two floors and an open terrace with a wide parapet wall. All  the students from 1^st standard to eleventh used to have lunch there. In sixth standard, when I was having my lunch with my class-mate, he challenged me to walk on the parapet wall.  Very unaware of the danger of falling from the third floor, I coolly got up on the parapet wall and walked a few steps. This was very much unexpected, and there was stunned silence as, the senior students grabbed me and pulled me down to safety. I could not understand the reason for the commotion, as I stood bewildered. I was immediately paraded before the shocked principal, who without delay locked the terrace, and from that day all of us had to eat on the play ground.

My parents were horrified, and advised me not to do such crazy feat once again. It never happened again, as we took over one more activity; Fighting physically after lunch. During one such fights, one boy slammed his sharp shoe into my shin, wounded me and I bled for a very long time that day until evening.

As this school had low standard, I too lowered my bar and by the end of 7^th standard, once again managed to slip from the first rank to 20^th rank in a class of 25 students.  

Generally, for me school was a place to go. I never understood that the purpose of going to school was to learn.

So when I turned a trainer, I never got upset with some of the candidates, who sat through the training, without putting their mind to the classes. I saw myself in them, and tried my level best to get them to like me. For I believe that only if you like someone you will listen to them. After the first few days the candidates listened and the results were encouraging.

And I simplified the classes, and gave them the barest minimum knowledge, they need to know for a successful career. I announced the tea breaks, and lunch breaks on dot, and dismissed them each day sharp by 6 PM, unlike my co-trainers, who kept them beyond endurance. Therefore, I earned their liking, for they were interacting with a person who valued their personal time, as much his own. I might not have been a good student, but I knew students. Because I know that the most interesting place in a students life is outside the institution.    

FULL CIRCLE - NOT ONCE BUT TWICE

I was born in 1954 in Calcutta. I had two elder sisters. In our custom, when the child is a year old, we shave the head of the child, in our family temple, pray to the presiding deity  and pierce  the ears of the child, and put earrings. My parents had their roots in their native village in Tamilnadu, but as they had shifted to Calcutta, their perspective regarding such customs had slightly changed, due to exposure to different Bengali and Hindi culture. 

They did not totally deviate from this custom. They had my head shaved, but did not pierce my ears, as being a male I would never need to wear ear rings.

In 1983, my son was born. When he was a year old, I too followed the altered custom set by my parents. I too had his head shaved, but spared his ears from being pierced.

Later in one such ceremony of another child, I watched the helpless child scream in pain and fear as all the relatives pinned it down to help the jeweler   pierced its ears. It could not understand what was going on, and with its eyes streaming with tears, looked yearningly at its parents to rescue it from the     terrible plight.  The parents: willing victims of customs, were also crying helplessly. Of course the child recovered within minutes, after the ceremony was over and went about playing as though nothing had happened.

18 years later, in 2001, when my son joined college, it was the fashion for young men to wear a single ear stud on the left ear. So he told me to take him to the jewelers, to have his pierce with a shot gun.

I had vehemently opposed any sort of ear piercing for children to my wife and her family members. They were unquestioningly rooted in traditions.  Now I did not know what to do. Here my son was wanting to be fashionable, and I knew my wife and family would make fun of me, if I changed my stance.

So to avoid any unnecessary embarrassment, both my son and I, went on a Sunday, stealthily to the jeweler, and had his left ear pierced with a shot gun, which drove a single white stone stud into his ear lobe.  My grown up son held my hand while this happened, and winced in pain as the stud sank into place. A single drop of tear escaped his eyes. My heart sank as I watched his pain. When we came out he said ,”Thanks pa.”

We both returned home with fear of reprisal from my wife. Surprisingly she appreciated the cute ear stud, which made our handsome son quiet dashing in looks.   

Life had come a full circle. I had to eat my words, in utter humility.

As I saw the ear stud adding to my son’s charm, I wondered, ”Should I follow his example?” But I did not have the guts to do it, as I feared total opposition from my conservative wife. As the desire lay dormant in my heart, I knew it would find expression at the opportune moment.

Four years later, in 2005, my son graduated, and went to Mumbai for his employment. He cut his long hair short, removed his ear stud, to look suitable in an official environment.

 Few weeks later I had to go to Delhi  for 3 weeks,  for my official work.  I considered piercing my ear so that I could continuously wear the stud, for 3 weeks, so that the ear hole would not close. And I could do it without my wife’s disapproval. But I was 51 years old.  Would it be appropriate, at my age, I needed to know. So I called my son, and asked him for guidance. He said, “ Dad go ahead, do it. If you postpone it you will be growing older only. Do not worry, if you do not like it, you can always discard it.”

So I went ahead and my left ear had this shiny cute earring. Boy, it did look good. When I came back to Chennai, my wife told me, “ You are not wearing that hideous thing , when we go out together. “ I felt that was reasonable.

  So I used to wear it after office hours as I spent 2 hours in the gym, and when I went to movies or the bar with my friends. I was a mild freak by nature. This part of me was obvious when I was with my pals. When with family I was predictably serious and boring.

 The organization I was with closed down, and I had to move on. One of my l colleagues, who shared my wave length, presented me with a ear stud, with a small white stone. I treasure it, because it gives me a lot of solace to think that, there are some people who are alike me.

So, life has come a full circle once more. One never knows when we have to own ideas, which we had disowned, and when we have to disown all the concepts we held dear to our hearts.

Life changes, we change, and so do our perspectives.I am still a freak. What next? Should I go for a body tattoo? Let us see.

 

ALL IS WELL ONLY IF IT ENDS WELL

I my long tenure as a training manager I have come across many students, from different walks of life. Some of them have wasted opportunities, and have just been a me too, happy to exist without any progress. While some have really withstood many hardships in life and have struggled to reach the same place,  to which the others students have come casually. Some of the life stories have been heart wrenching, when I came to know that what is taken for granted by those who are blessed, has been a path of determined struggle for the less fortunate.

Here is the story of many unsung heroes.

This boy is from Madurai, a famous temple town in Tamilnadu. Born to poor parents, he lost his father when he was three, and his mother when he was eight. His grandmother was not able to feed him, and so she left him in a orphanage hostel in Kodaikanal, a hill station near Madurai.  He studied there, and he was so young that he did not even know the way back to his grandmother’s house, till he reached his 10^th standard. Only then one of his uncles came to take him home for summer holidays. Determined to finish his studies, he went on to join college. To pay the fee, he used to load grain bags on the lorry transports. He used to be paid a certain amount for each bag loaded on. This work used to done throughout the  night and  with the wages earned, he paid his fee. He also worked as an assistant to cooks during marriages, and other ceremonies, and in the process had become an excellent cook himself. Now he is employed as a Medical representative, and is taking care of his old grandmother. He has no bad habits, and his only aim in life is to come up as much as possible. Commendable.

Then there is the other boy from Erode, near Coimbatore. His parents were very poor, and they used to manufacture potato, banana, and yam chips in their house, from morning till afternoon, and his father used to sell the same, in a push cart in the busy street corners, from evening till late night. In such conditions, the boy had completed his post graduation, and now well employed is taking care of his parents. His father due to failing health does not sell chips anymore. Praiseworthy.

Another boy from Salem. The second of three children, all male, his father was an agriculturist and a very hard worker. To educate the boys he used to take up any labor which came his way, whether it was loading bags, ;or doing construction work. This boy used to augment the family income by working as a weaver in the looms, during the summer holidays. A very ambitious boy, he showed tremendous growth in sales, and simultaneously wrote his exams for the sub inspectors post and today he is a SI. Admirable.

And there have been many candidates, who inspite of being born and educated in English medium in Chennai, have neither learnt to speak or spell any language properly. They as such failures, with no skill whatsoever, and have no clue of what a career means. These are the candidates of concern, that in 2014, while there are so many opportunities for professional courses, and good income, they continue to exist as a person in would in 1950s. Lamentable.

    

PARADOX OF LIFE

It was in 1985, I joined a pharma company as a product and a training executive. It was a small south Indian company. There was not much work, and most days had little activity. I was in-charge of preparing Visual Aid. The ideas were generated by an elderly consultant, and I did the follow up. Then the company used to screen print the pages. I had to go to a printing press and decide the base color of pages, the color of the letters. Once this process was completed, we stuck appropriate photographs in space left empty for it. Later the different pages were compiled in a given sequence, and spiral bound on hard board, and protected by a plastic sheet. The book was ready to be used. The representatives of the company used this book to detail the products to the doctors, who in turn prescribed the medicines, to patients.

 Slowly the screen printing was replaced by single color offset printing. It was a new field. I had to learn new techniques. The artist had artworks prepared on white boards, and had a trace paper flap, covered by a  color paper flap.

Now we needed to know the color code of printing, that is cyan yellow magenta and black. If we needed a brand name in red, we had to mark over the trace paper, the percentage of red as yellow 100 and magenta 100. All colors were converted to mathematical percentages, and over a period of time I could convert any color to it nearest percentages.

To create the page, I was involved in all steps. Idea generation, model sourcing, photography of models to depict the idea, copy write, color coding, positive making, plate making,  printing, lamination, gold foiling, and finally spiraling. I was very much satisfied, with the know how, and with the way my career was going.

Slowly the single color printing was replaced by the four color machines, which were more efficient. Then it was upgraded to a computer controlled printing machine. Positive making was skipped to direct plate making.

Then the art work was generated directly on the computer. We did not need to shoot photos anymore, as we could download visuals directly from the net. Negative photography was replaced by digital photos.  Artists, laid to rest their paint, brushes and spray guns. Work which used to take weeks to complete, could be done within days, thanks to technology.

All the knowledge I had gained so far, were now outdated, once again thanks to technology. Artist lost their income to the younger tech savvy generations. Professional photographers  changed their profession, as there was no demand anymore. Screen printing totally died somewhere on the way.

The latest tech, being detailing with the help of a Tab.

I shifted totally to  training. All changes in 30 years. All in a small life time.

As my friend used to  say,” You either lose to competition or technology.”

We lose our young age in learning a trade.   Once, we get employed, we do not get the time to catch up changing technology, and one day are caught in a cross road, where what we know is useless, and we cannot proceed because we are outdated. Then of course there is inflation, alimony, disease, treatment cost , old age, debility, helplessness and thankfully death. Quiet a paradox. 

I have 2 quotes, both of them from 2 different types of people.

 One who is not able to fight the change.....

“It's hard to fight when the fight ain't fair.” ― Taylor Swift

And the other who still has strength and age on his side....

 “When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny.” ― Paulo Coelho,