Seeking validation

Around this time of last year, I dumped my only full sleeve shirt in the dustbin. It was not torn or unusable. I had brought it the year before to wear it at the annual promotion interviews. Last year was the second time I got rejected. This year, when I missed the bus again for the third time I had nothing left to throw off the drain. 

As the pain and humiliation subsided, there was a feeling of cool soothe. it is said that the pain reduces after each blow. You enter into a perpetual state of existentialism and wait for the ‘greater good’ from the heavens above.  

10 years ago as I joined this institution a senior person told me, ‘You are not meant for this place.’ He didn’t mean to chide me but stated this as a matter of fact. Every April as I wait for the selected list of promotees with a pumping heart and browse down the list to find that my name has been left out this year as well, the words of that man rings like an oracle. The small man as I am, it leaves me with abject morbidity to see people below me, climb up the ladder. 

Validation is all that I have been yearning for, all my life. Right from parents to teachers, classmates, friends, colleagues and the bosses. I yearn for those little ‘Congrats’ messages with emoticons of flowers and claps and thumbs up. But I am not sure if to seek validation in a job you don’t like by people who hardly like you is the redemption I wish for. I have boasted myself of being ‘different’ and ‘rebellious’. That might have been a way of seeking attention but the world knows no greater stupidity. The system weeds out the ‘different’ and the ‘rebellious’. Those who claim to have climbed the ladder while being ‘different’ are no better than pimps for the system.

One of my worst fears has been of obscurity. That I will fade out of this world, unheard and unknown. Perhaps that is why I have been yearning for the validation. The affable Punjabi guy, who was roomed with me during a training program told me’ Either you have to reach the top or don’t even bother.’

Perhaps its time I learn not to bother.

The world that changed in two weeks

Back in 2008 when I started blogging, I had promised myself to do 2 blogs a month. It was crazy 2 years until I started working in a place that ate your brains in lieu of salary. It has been crazy 10 years until the lockdown gave us a welcome time to sit down at home and enjoy the sunset. There was this urge to get back to writing along with reading. Then a long lost friend came in, who caressed my thoughts and gave the kick that resulted in a writing spree. It is the feeling when you are trapped in a endless black hole and someone comes into push you out.  


The Kerala Government came up with campaign, which rightly named ‘Break-the-chain’. Over the past few weeks, the humanity has seen many links of the chain being broken and new links being built. 


When the boss announced the one day curfew on a Sunday, I felt a tug in the heart. Although I have been emotionally detached from the Church for the last five years, being forced to stay out on a Sunday and that too on the lent season can be emotionally touchy. But then the lent season went off peacefully, so did the Hosanna and the Easter. No one died of not celebrating the Holy communion. But then it was high time the Churches modified its practice of celebrating the ‘communion’. 

Everyone knew there was a communion of spittle, but since the ritual was too holy to be modified no one really bothered. Now what common sense couldn’t alter, the virus may. Infact religion has been creeping into science, polity, arts, literature and every other aspect of human life. This one, invisible virus may have broken (or atleast rattled) the chain. 


People started learning that the ceremonies, functions and festivals could be done with minimal attendance and little ‘noise’. A few weeks ago the representatives from nearby temple came to visit. The temple used to do a well-known festival every year gathering thousands of people all over the state. This year they had to drop the plans soon after making a hefty advance payment. The faithful were no longer interested in making the donations and the usually-rich Temple Trust ended up in huge debts. 


Our big fat weddings became small calorie-free ones. 5 years ago I struggled to match the ‘in-flow’ to the ‘out-flow’ during mine and ended it up at 10.00 lacs( average wedding cost for a Trivandrum Christian). Today it has trebled the cost, with most of the spending on materials you won’t be using ever in your life again. It was beyond any logic to burn up the entire life savings and earning a debt on a single day. Moving on the penchant for celebration increased with people finding all sorts of excuse to eat poorly cooked food loaded with carcinogens. 


As the chains started shaking so did people’s confidence in immortality.  From the time immemorial humans were after the elixir of youth and immortality. A few generations ago it was difficult to survive beyong 50s. Today people well live into their 80s, thanks to the modern medicine and quality of lifestyle. When we temporarily stopped our weekly football match a month back, guys as young as 30 went with a parting note, ‘See you, if alive’. Even the youth couldn’t guarantee their lifespan. The reason was the virus had a bad impact on people with respiratory and liver issues and both of them are guaranteed in modern cities. Last week I saw my father, he was pretty sure this pandemic was certainly from the Book of Revelations. People has gone on to predict the end of the worlds. 


If lifespan was a worry, imagine the situation of people having to spend day in and out for weeks with people who they can barely stand. Work life was a means to escape from their own house for many. Now they have to spend their days in closed rooms with people bound only by legal contract. The worst affected is women who had to stand their in-laws. I have spoken to people who nearly hit the depressive button. The first few days recipes from Youtube and other crafts helped them trudge through. Then came different challenges with a hashtag and quizzes. In a couple of weeks the fountain of creativity goes dry.


The idea of capitalism and free market has taken a serious rattle thanks to the virus. Informal labour sector has been India’s greatest blessing. The millions of unaccounted and cheap labour oiling the giant wheels of Indian industry are not covered by any security. The people greatly affected by them were from this sector. We literally saw a huge human crises, which literally stared back at us and laid bare the ‘Indian growth story’. Many millions have been literally pushed into poverty during this lockdown and Government has no verifiable data for its utility schemes to reach them. Moving up the ladder there are chances of lay-offs in sectors catering to US and Europe. Salary revisions will be minimal and many investments will sour. 


We have also learnt that free will associated with capitalism will not help the humanity survive. Consumption has to be checked. We may have to minimize consumption and let go of many luxuries. But again there are many who lived off the luxuries. I haven’t seen the guy who irons my clothes and I wonder how he makes his living. The supermarkets gave you a ‘sense of choice’ and literally put out so many small traders out of business. The old Khirana shops have come back to prominence as people have to wait for hours to get into a ‘supermarkets’


The coming days we may have to adjust to the long queues, lesser human contact and common gatherings. The human civilization has turned a curve

The God definition

I was born a good 5 years before Babri Masjid happened. The reason why I say this is to give you an idea of timeline of growth of religious fundamentalism and my age. In fact I believe our generation was the gang who grew up with rise of religious fundamentalism.

My parents like million other Malayalis migrated to Gulf for making their dough. Dough was easy to churn out back then as there was no tax, no ‘hangouts to chill’ and good currency conversion. So if you had planned it well, you could retire peacefully and happily by the time you are in your mid 40s. 

Apart from oil Gulf was also a fertile land for the Wahabi version of Islam. You could practice any religion, provided that was within authorized spaces and you didn’t get over enthusiastic about spreading the good news. Getting into a Arab jail was a nightmare as the legal support is almost nil and was expensive, if any.

In the same manner the Christian schools had chapels in their schools here, the schools had a place of worship for the Muslims. The Muslim kids would go for their namaz while we sat silently in class. 

The Churches there were more ‘spirited’, thanks to the minority feeling. We had like 4 worship services every week and to be frank the Christian kids were more well versed in Bible than the ones in India. So from a very young age we had this deep rooted awareness of ‘the only true way’ to salvation. I was also torn in confusion by the Word which asked us to go out to the ends of the World and preach his good word.

And then one day, between the interval of one teacher going out and the next one coming in, I got into a argument with a Muslim friend of mine on ‘the real true God’ Another Christian friend joined in and the debate went on in loud decibels. Today I wouldn’t have indulged in such stupidity. But back then you were innocent, stupid and unmindful of the consequences.

That is when Mr. Rashid, the tall, lanky, dark and handsome Physics teacher (literally) jumped into his class. Mr Rashid was one of the favourites in the school for his characteristic wit and simple method of teaching. He didn’t fail to notice the noise and after the class settled down enquired what the matter was. 

We told him the matter of argument. He sat down, lost deep in thought. We stood there expecting a lashing. Evn then I wouldn’t have mind it as it was for ‘his kingdom’.

Rashid asked the Muslim student what his idea was

“La Illaha il Allah” He condensed his all argument in a sentence

“What does that mean”

“There is no God but Allah”

“What does Allah mean”

“God”

“In other words, there is no God but God. God is not defined by religion”

With that simple words he amplified the scope of ‘God’ and those words still stays with me even after 20 odd years.

There was this another teacher, Mr Khalid, who developed an idea of starting business. He partnered with a friend and put all his life savings into wholesale trading of fruits and vegetables. He was a very nice and affable man with a broad smile which was as attractive as the cologne he wore. Unfortunately the partner cheated him of all his life savings and left off.

The school management was kind enough to let him join back. He was broken in mind. But the spirits never wavered. The guy seemed to have lost his mind and decided teaching God was much more essential than school curriculum. He started teaching us heaven and hell in his usual affable spirits and we kids enjoyed the class for the theatrics and the fact that we needn’t ‘learn’ them. He acted out how he will be carrying us into paradise in his own hands (roughly the way Hanuman carried the mountain).

Soon matters got out of  hands. He started taking lectures on heaven and hell for hours altogether and wouldn’t let the other teachers get in after his hours. He then decided he ought to give us sex education and began lewd description of body organs (which we enjoyed ofcourse). The school management had to kick him out eventually.

Today I can’t help but wonder, if the roles have reversed in our society. Crazy men have gained more access to our space. Religion has encroached philosophy, literature, music and science. Spiritual gatherings are crowded when science halls are empty.

ഓട്ടോ സവാരി

When the  right and wrong is no longer black or white

രാവിലെ ഇറങ്ങിയപ്പോ ഫ്ലാറ്റിന്റെ മുന്നിൽ കിടക്കുന്നു ഓട്ടോ. ഓട്ടോയിൽ കയറിയിട്ട് കുറേ നാളായി. അതിലേറെ നാളായി ബസ്സിൽ കയറിയിട്ട്. സ്വന്തമായി വണ്ടി ആയി കഴിഞ്ഞപ്പോ മടി. വണ്ടി കാത്തു നില്ക്കാനും പിന്നെ ചില്ലറയുടെ പേരിൽ വഴക്കുണ്ടാക്കാനും. UBER സൗകര്യം വന്നപ്പോ അങ്ങനെ ഒരു ഉപകാരമായി. എത്ര കത്തിയാണെങ്കിലും Decimal കണക്കിനു പൈസ എടുക്കും. വില പേശി വില കളയണ്ട.

ഇന്നെന്തായാലും യൂബർ എടുത്തില്ല. ഓട്ടോ എടുത്തു നേരെ വിട്ടു. ഓട്ടോയിൽ കയറി കഴിഞ്ഞപ്പോഴാണ് ശ്രദ്ധിച്ചത് നല്ല കളർഫുൾ ഓട്ടോ. ഓടിക്കുന്നതു ഒരു ചേച്ചിയും. ആദ്യമായാണ് 'ഷീ' ഓട്ടോയിൽ കയറുന്നത്. കുറച്ചു കഴിഞ്ഞ് ഒരു conversation തുടങ്ങി.

ആദ്യം സിറ്റിയിലെ traffic പിന്നെ സ്വന്തം വിശേഷങ്ങൾ

'എത്ര നാളായി ചേച്ചി?'

ഒരു ക്ഷണത്തിന് കാത്തിരുന്ന പോലെയവർ തുടങ്ങി.

'ചേട്ടനൊപ്പം തട്ടുകടയായിരുന്നു. പിന്നെ ചേട്ടന് കാൻസർ പിടിപ്പെട്ടു.

ആദ്യം RCC കൊണ്ടുപോയി. അവിടുന്ന് 'അമൃത'യ്ക്ക് refer ചെയ്തു. 65 ലക്ഷം രൂപയുടെ സർജറി വിധിച്ചു.

അതിനൊപ്പം ഡോക്ടർ ഒരു T&C കൂടി വച്ചു.

സർജറി കഴിഞ്ഞ് രോഗിയെ ജീവനോടെ കിട്ടാൻ പത്ത് ശതമാനം സാധ്യതയേ ഉള്ളൂ

അഥവാ ജീവൻ കിട്ടിയാലും അത് കിടക്കയിൽ തന്നെ ജീവിച്ച് തീർക്കണം.

സർജറിയ്ക്ക് വീടും കൈയിലുള്ള പണ്ടവും പണയം വച്ചു. സർജറി വിജയിച്ചു.

സ്വർണ്ണം ബാങ്ക് കൊണ്ടുപോയി. വീട് ജപ്തിയായി. പിന്നീട് കരുണ തോന്നി ബാങ്ക് settlement എത്തി. 

ഞാൻ ചോദിച്ചു 'അമ്മ' സഹായിച്ചില്ലേ

'ഉവ്വ, 25000 രൂപ കിഴിവ് തന്നു '

പക്ഷേ ഈ കഥ തീർന്നില്ല. പുള്ളിയ്ക്ക് ആഴ്ചയിൽ 2 dialysis വേണം, വില കൂടിയ മരുന്നുകളും. City corporation ഒരു ഓട്ടോ വാങ്ങി കൊടുത്തു.

ഇവർക്ക് ഒരു മകളായിരുന്നു. നല്ല മിടുക്കി. CA ആയിരുന്നു സ്വപ്നം. Fees കൊടുക്കാൻ കാശില്ലാതെ മനസ്സുമടുത്തു ആ മകള് തൂങ്ങി ചത്തു.

ആ സ്ത്രീ ഇങ്ങനെ ഉപസംഹരിച്ചു ' നാഥനെ കിട്ടി, മകളെ നഷ്ടമായി '

ആ ഓട്ടോയിൽ ഇരുന്നു ഞാനാലോചിച്ചു ഒരു  സാധാരണ കുടുംബത്തിൽ ജനിക്കുന്ന ഒരു പെൺകുട്ടിയെ പഠിപ്പിക്കുന്നത് (അല്ലെങ്കിൽ വളർത്തുന്നത് ) കല്യാണം കഴിപ്പിച്ച് 'വിടാനാണ് '

ജീവിതത്തിൽ ഇത് വരെ കാണാത്ത ഒരാൾ അവളുടെ identify ആയി മാറുന്നു. ആ identity നഷ്ടപ്പെട്ടാൽ പിന്നെ അവൾ തന്നെയില്ല.

ഇറങ്ങുമ്പോൾ ഞാനൊരു 500 രൂപ കൊടുത്തു

'അയ്യോ ഇതെന്തിനാ സാറേ '

' സിംപതിക്കല്ല. ഈ അനുഭവത്തിനാണ്. വച്ചോളൂ'

ദു:ഖ വെള്ളി

ആധുനിക ലോകത്തിൻ്റെ ചരിത്രത്തിലാദ്യമായിരിക്കും ക്രിസ്ത്യാനികളെല്ലാവരും കതകുകളടച്ച് വീട്ടിൻറുളളിലിരുന്ന് ക്രിസ്തുവിൻ്റെ കഷ്ടാനുഭവം അയവിറക്കുന്നത്. ലോക ചക്രവർത്തിമാർക്ക് സാധിക്കാതിരുന്ന സംഗതി ഒരു ചെറിയ കീടത്തിന് സാധിക്കുന്നു.

ലോകമെമ്പാടുമുള്ള വലിയ വലിയ, ചരിത്ര പ്രസിദ്ധമായ പള്ളികൾ ഇന്ന് ഉറങ്ങി കിടക്കും.

കഷ്ടപ്പാടുകളിൽ നിന്ന് സഭ സമൃദ്ധിയിലേക്ക് പോയപ്പോൾ ക്രിസ്തുവിൻ്റെ കഷ്ടാനുഭവം re-Create ചെയ്യാൻ പാടുപ്പെട്ടത് പള്ളീലച്ഛന്മാരാണ്. കഷ്ടാനുഭവം നടക്കുമ്പോൾ തന്നെ ഉയർപ്പിൻ്റെന്നു തട്ടാൻ പോകുന്ന ആടുമാടുകളെയും ഇറക്കാൻ പോകുന്ന കള്ളിനെയും ഓർത്തിരിക്കുന്ന കുഞ്ഞാടുകളെ എന്തു പറഞ്ഞാണ് കഷ്ടങ്ങൾ പഠിപ്പിക്കേണ്ടത്.

ഈ അവസ്ഥ ഒരു വിധം പരിഹരിച്ചത് Mel Gibson ആണ്. Passion of the Christ കാണിച്ചു കുറച്ചു കണ്ണുന്നീർ ശേഖരിക്കാൻ സഭയ്ക്ക് സാധിച്ചു.

എൻ്റെ ചെറുപ്പത്തിലെ ദു:ഖവെള്ളി കത്തോലിക്ക സഭയിലായിരുന്നു. കയ്പു വെള്ളവും കുരിശിൻ്റെ വഴിയും മുതിർന്നവർക്ക് reserved ആയിരുന്നു. ഒന്നു മുതിരാൻ വേണ്ടി ആഗ്രഹിച്ചു.

അവസാനം മുതിർന്നു കഴിഞ്ഞപ്പോ കൂടെ പുതിയ ജോലികളും കിട്ടി. പള്ളിക്കകത്തെ ബഞ്ചുകൾ ഹാശാ ആഴ്ചയിൽ വെളിയിൽ കൊണ്ട് നിക്ഷേപിക്കേണ്ട ജോലി 'യുവജന'ത്തിൻ്റേതായിരുന്നു. കാരണവന്മാർ പറയുന്ന പോലെ വീട്ടുമുറ്റത്തെ കരിയില കുനിഞ്ഞെടുക്കാത്ത ഞങ്ങൾ ബഞ്ചുകൾ വെളിയിലിടും.

ദു:ഖവെള്ളിയുടെ പ്രധാന കായികാഭ്യാസമാണല്ലോ കുമ്പിടൽ. അതിന് അത്യാവശ്യം നല്ല തിരക്കാണ്, തിങ്ങി കൂടിയാണ് കുഞ്ഞാടുകൾ നില്ക്കുന്നത്. കുമ്പിട്ട് തളർന്നവസാനം മുന്നേ നില്ക്കുന്ന ആളുടെ കാലിൻ്റെ വെള്ള ചുംബിക്കും.

വർഷങ്ങൾ കഴിഞ്ഞു പോകുംതോറും തിരക്ക് കൂടി വന്നു. ബഞ്ചു പിടിക്കാൻ ആളും കുറഞ്ഞു. എനിക്കാണെങ്കിലിതിനോട് താത്പര്യവും കുറഞ്ഞു. ബഞ്ചു പിടിക്കാൻ ബംഗാളികൾ വന്നു. ഞാൻ പള്ളിയുടെ പിറകിലേക്കു മാറി.

കയ്പു വെള്ളത്തിന് പകരം കഞ്ഞിയും പയറും പച്ചമാങ്ങ അരിഞ്ഞു മുളകു sauce ൽ മുക്കിയ ഒരു കൂട്ടും ( അച്ചാർ എന്ന് പറയാം)