Book Review: To The Stars And Other Stories by Fyodor Sologub

I have read many Russian writers and generally love Russian literature. The first Russian novel that I read was Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Later, I got to read the works of esteemed writers like Tolstoy, Turgenev, Gogol, Chekhov, etc. I am also looking forward to reading the novels of some familiar names like Nabokov and Bulgakov. Till I received the upcoming short story collection To The Stars and Other Stories from Netgalley for an honest review, I had never heard of Fyodor Sologub, who is a celebrated poet and story writer.

Sologub was born into a poor family, and after his father's death, it was his mother who toiled as a houseworker and ensured he got educated. Sologub became a teacher and worked in places far away from popular literary circles. With time, his work started to get noticed, and he collaborated with his wife, Anastasia Chebotarevskaya, who was also a translator. After the Bolshevik revolution, which he didn't favour, he was not able to publish anything in Russia. But he received recognition outside Russia as his works were translated into other languages. The couple applied for emigration, but the application was put on hold. Poverty and uncertainty caused his wife to take her life. Sologub was deeply affected, and he decided not to leave Russia. He spent his remaining days near the place of his wife's death.

To The Stars and Other Stories is a collection of thirteen short stories and a sampling of fairy tales written by Sologub that are translated by Susanne Fusso. Sologub is not a writer who is read widely today, though he was so popular in his time that a collection of his complete works was published twice in his lifetime. Fusso, being a Sologub enthusiast, wants him to reach his deserved audience, and that is the motivation behind this collection.

While reading these stories, I became aware of one thing: Sologub is, first and foremost, an excellent poet. All his short stories have an economy that portrays the most profound and vivid images with the minimum use of words. His stories are realistic in their setting and fantastic in their telling. We get a glimpse of a decaying society that suppresses the creative urges displayed by its members. Though all his stories have common themes and a similar structure, he uses elements from a highly varied cross-section of society, which makes each story a unique experience. It is also important to note that the issues highlighted in them are of universal nature and will find resonance until we depend on a societal structure for our sustenance.

The book opens with the story To The Stars, which is about a kid called Seryozha who cannot bear the behaviour of adults. He associates this with the daytime and craves the presence of nights and stars. He creates a world of stars in his imagination and believes it beckons him. This is a common motif that is present in most of the stories in this collection: a kid or kid-like person who cannot handle reality and aspires for fantasy. This alternate, imaginative life ends in ultimate tragedy. Most of the stories have a pessimistic viewpoint, but Sologub approaches death in a reverential manner. It is as if death is the eventual comfort for a human being suffering to align with a society that doesn't care.

But it's not just doom and gloom that is prevalent in these stories. Most of the stories have a humorous undercurrent, which again adds to their poetic nature. In some stories, like In Captivity, where two boys' search for magic words ends in expletives, and The Two Gotiks, where a boy sees his doppelganger running out of the house at midnight, the humour is overt. There are stories like The Youth Linus and In The Crowd in which humour is used to accentuate the horror and leaves the reader feeling a bit queasy after reading. The White Dog, a story in which an old seamstress decides to transform into a howling dog, embraces the supernatural, which is a rarity in the collection. Another one called Death by Advertising is also a supernatural plot about a man calling his death upon him by answering an advertisement.

The Road To Damascus, a story that he co-wrote with his wife, is a unique story in which the ending is very uplifting. The Kiss of The Unborn Child is also a story that ends with optimism, though it starts with the death of a boy who shot himself. There is another story of a young man who shoots himself. It is about a club of young girls who take turns masquerading as the fiancee of any dead single man. Nina is in anticipation when her turn comes and she has to attend the funeral of a man who shot himself as his fiancee. This is my favourite of the whole collection. Stories titled Beauty and The Sixty-Seventh Day are unabashed celebrations of the human body. The former ends in despair, while the latter, against which a pornography charge was applied and the publisher prosecuted, has a very hopeful ending.

The Lady In Shackles is a story about a widow who invites men to torture her every year at the exact time that her abusive husband died. It has an interesting psychological angle that is unearthed in its final sentence. Finally, we find a collection of fairy tales and parables that stands on the fine line that separates poetry from prose. Each of them is a very minimalist exercise that conveys a lot more to the thinking mind than it appears.

To The Stars And Other Stories by Fyodor Sologub is a collection of unique stories that blend reality and fantasy, poetry and prose, despair and hope. These stories share the pain experienced by a silent demography that struggles to keep up with the dictates of an unsympathetic society, fails to assimilate, and attempts to build a new reality for themselves.

A Day Lost in Train

After reviewing Railonama, the book about train journeys, I remembered a couple of experiences while journeying on train. I thought I would scribble one of them here.

This happened at the time when I had completed my education and was searching for a job. Through one of my friends I got an interview call from Pune. I went and booked the train ticket from Shornur Junction to Pune. Train was supposed to start the next day afternoon from Shornur. After booking a sleeper berth, I casually asked the booking officer about the arrival time of the train in Pune. He replied that the expected time is early morning 3 o'clock.

Then I called my contact in Pune and told him that I will be reaching the day after tomorrow early morning. I told him that I will somehow manage in railway station till daybreak and then I will call him. After reaching home, I informed my mother and other relatives that I will start the next day and by the day after I will be at Pune and will meet my friend.

The next day I boarded the train from Shornur. There was a boy of my age sitting across my seat. By the time train started, we were chatting. After an hour passed, he was telling about the long journey ahead of us and about passing a whole day in train. It took sometime for me to realize that the train won't reach Pune the next day morning. The scheduled time is at 3 O'clock the day after. I had a whole day to spend in train...!

Mobile phones were not so common those days and there was no way I could convey this new situation to my friend in Pune or to my family. I tried to find a phone booth at any passing station, but a few coin phones were only for local calls. I passed a day sitting on thorns.

When I reached Pune, I called my worried friend and he was relaxed after hearing me. Same with my family. 

Eating Competition

I went with my giant friend to have tea. At the tea shop, he took one pazham pori and started eating. I too took one and ate.

He took one more and ate. I followed him and had one too.

Then he took a puffs and devoured it. I grabbed one for myself.

He claimed that the combination will be right with one more pazham pori and had one. I agreed and took one for myself.

He ordered a strong tea with more milk. I too ordered for same.

After both of us finished our tea, he slowly got up walked to the counter and declared all that he needed now was a sweet lemon soda. I surrendered.

Relighting the Home...

"She doesn't eat anything."

My sister complained on phone. She was telling about her daughter, my niece. For a five year old my niece is quite intelligent, active, very playful and very very naughty. I used to tell my sister that it was good for kids to be naughty. I hate it when people try to suppress kids. Its like you are switching off a bright light in a beautifully set room and plunging the room into darkness.

At the same time I realise how hard it is on my sister, to balance the kid and her full time job. When she called me, my niece was sick. With proper treatment her fever came down, but health did not show much improvement. Doctor had advised sister to try stuffing her up and increasing her weight by next few days. If there is no progress she has to be hospitalized.

"The only way left to try is using a funnel to force feed her." My sister continued. "When I call her to the table she never turn up. She run away when I approach her with food. I know she needs her nutrients, but she doesn't like any thing that I prepare for her."

"You try to find out what she like."

"I tried it. She doesn't like anything!"

Then I remembered my childhood. I never used to like food then. Milk, rise, iddli, dosa, sambar, chutney... my hate list used to be endless. I remembered one day when my father tried to feed me rice with some daal curry.

"I cannot eat daal. I don't like it." I declared.

"You love Dhara Singh, don't you?"

Dhara Singh used to play Hanuman in Ramanand Sagar's Ramayana, which was running in Doordarshan at that time. Father had told me before that Singh used to be a wrestler who has won many fights.

"Do you know how they get such power?" Father cooked up a story. "By eating daal. They eat lot of it."

I was hooked and daal became my favorite from then, with rice, chapatti, in sambar or rasam- for close to 15 years, everyday I demanded it in my diet.

Now the time has come for payback. I asked sister, "What do you have right now with you?"

"Pomegranates."

"Ok, give phone to her." She handed over the phone to my niece.

"What did Doctor uncle do today?"

"He gave me an injection." Obviously she was not pleased by it.

"You know, there is one thing which if you eat, the next time when he does it, his needle will break."

"What's that?"

"Pomegranate. If you drink its juice everyday with milk, he cannot take an injection next time."

I disconnected the call after I heard her shouting to her mother to make her pomegranate juice immediately.

Months later when I saw her, her mother was serving her pomegranate juice and she seriously informed me, "Did you know, pomegranate juice can make injection needle break...!!!"

This post is part of Happy hours by indiblogger.in sponsored by Dabur based on the theme A happy child make a happy home. Go here for more information.

That Evening When I Had The Scare of My Life...

I am a person who doesn't get scared much. I have no problem in staying alone in a building, or walking in a dark night. I can watch the most extreme horror movies and still get a good night's sleep. The ghost stories never bothered me in moments when I was alone, which used to be quite often before. But there was this one night, from long back, when I really got scared as never before. I literally shivered for some moments that night.

I was staying in Coimbatore then, in a rented room along with a good friend. In our floor, there were two other rooms. In the room adjacent to mine, a kid, probably a student, used to live. The third room used to be a mystery for us. Most of the times it used to be kept locked. On some occasions we had observed people there, but never the same ones. The mystery was cleared when the house owner told us that it belonged to a private firm and their executives who come on duty to Coimbatore stayed there.

That particular evening, my friend had went to his native. I had my dinner outside and was comfortably watching television. It was turning late and a horror movie was running in HBO. All of a sudden, there was a terrible scream. It was so unexpected and loud that I remained sat on my couch for a full minute. I could not determine from where the sound came. I could not conclude if it came from the throat of a man or a woman. Hell, I was not even sure if it was human.

I waited a while for a follow up. Nothing came. Suddenly I remembered our mystery room. That noon I had noticed someone entering it. It was a lady. Was she still inside the room? Was that her sound? May be something nasty is going on. May be someone is in need of help.

I slowly opened the door and looked out. No one there. I took one step outside. 

"Psst", the guy who lived upstairs.

"What was that?" He whispered. I shrugged. He went back. I waited for a minute and came back to the room. My sleep was dead and I had no desire left to watch the movie. I sat and thought for sometime about many possible situations. Every thought had a dirty, tragic end.

"Hell", I thought, again came outside and knocked the door of the kid. The guy took two whole minutes to open the door.

"Hey, didn't you hear that horrible scream sometime back?". I enquired in a hushed, urgent tone.

Came the tired reply "Yeah. I got an electric shock."

Skip to death..!

Lot of comments have been pouring in from friends and relatives since last couple of months about my slightly (?) protruding belly. I strongly believe that the hands of a newly opened samosa-kachori shop-owner is responsible for this. Trouble is that by putting an open blame of him I will have to avoid buying from him at least for time being. Provided the quality of his eatables, even the thought is unbearable for me. And then I made up my mind to seriously take up exercising. What an idea sirjee...! 

After work just stop at the kachori stall, wolf down one samosa, some hundred grams of hot jalebi, a kachori and come home, do work out for some time and see that all those delicacies become integral part of my body muscles. My idea was to start with skipping. It is easy to do and don't need any investment as such. I bought a good skipping rope and before starting the exercise schedule, just googled the benefits of skipping, to get a motivation. 

I opened first couple of results in the Google search page and it was satisfying. All were recommending skipping as a good cardiovascular exercise, perfect for the whole body. Then I reached the last result of the page. And all my enthusiasm drained off my mind. The title displayed for that result was, 'Skipping exercise can be fatal to you!'. I was shocked. Oh my God, that was close! Fatal? How is it possible? Skipping seemed quite a harmless sort of workout, which doesn't give any big shock for the body and here they say it is fatal! Then I opened the link and read it hurriedly, only to realise that the article was not about skipping exercise but about avoiding (skipping) physical exercises which can be fatal. What a relief!

Diwali And The Key To Happiness

In Kerala, Diwali is not traditionally celebrated with much dhaam dhoom as in other parts of India. That is the reason why I never associated this festival with crackers. We in Kerala celebrate Vishu and it is in this occasion that we normally burst crackers. I used to have lot of enthusiasm for this activity when I was a kid, but with time bursting crackers had become the least of priorities. So from the last six years that I am in Bangalore, I have never lighted a cracker for Diwali even when the whole neighborhood was enjoying their high decibel fun. 

But this year turned out to be different and how! What makes it more fun was that there was no plan till the last moment and it was just a momentary decision that made our evening the most enjoyable one in last few months. Diwali was a working day for us as the company management decided to give us off on Monday instead of Tuesday in which Diwali fell. My better half M went to meet my close friend and colleague V's wife S who stayed nearby. S had made some delicious Gulab Jamuns, and invited me too to join them after working hours. So evening I went there with V, who had got a huge box of assorted crackers, but was in a mood to gift it to kids. We four had jamuns and coffee, chit chatted for some time and then me and M took leave. 

We walked back and was about to reach our home when M remembered the key. She had kept the key at V's home when she was there. We had to walk back all the way to get the key. But when we reached their home, the plans changed. The decision was taken to burst crackers, at least some of that he had in stock if not all. We burnt the candles, took out the sparklers, rockets, wheels and had a great time. Our house key turned out to be the key of happiness this Diwali.

A weird dream

I have had my share of weird dreams. Flying snakes, war scenarios, cob webs, oceans, guns, dragons, whales, pirate ships, mountains, ghosts… you name it, I’ve seen it. I’ve even dreamed waking up, doing my regular chores and going to office, only to wake up and find that I’ve to do it all over again. But these days I’ve acquired a knack of forgetting my dreams just moments after waking up. So there are mornings when I ponder hard about that great dream that I had moments before, but all that draws in my mind is a blank wall. Last week one early morning I saw this dream that lingered a little while in my mind even after waking up. I don’t remember the whole episode but just some highlights and the ending, as it caught me totally off guard. I am not a person who believes that dreams point to one’s future or analyzing the images and the symbols in dreams can give insights to one’s psychology. But if any of you can make any deduction with this one, I don’t mind you sharing it with me. I saw myself at a relatives’ place. They are very close relatives of mine, or so I should assume by the manner I behaved with them. (Now don’t ask me how I am related to them. I don’t have any idea, nor am I remembering any of their faces.) Time is late evening and I have to return from there to Bangalore. Bus starts at 10 pm, but before that I have to pick the rest of my family from a nearby place. Many people are entering the household, greeting me and chatting with me. I am looking at my watch and noting that it is time to go. Then I noticed that these guys have a dog at their home. And what a dog it was! I should call it a hound... such a ferocious and mean looking dog. I saw it standing on its hind legs and effortlessly placing its forelegs on the shoulder of a man. And then it was time for me to move from there. I collected my luggage, bid farewell to the people there and walked towards the place my family was. I walked some distance and looked back to see the hound and another dog following me. The other dog was a dwarf compared with the hound. Its barking was more of yelping and was irritating. It tried to run behind me and when I threw an imaginary stone at it, ran back and hid behind a tree. All this time the hound was peacefully strolling behind me with an indifferent look on its face. I was about to reach my destination, just few more meters will take me there. The hound increased its pace. It was just behind me within seconds. I turned back to face it with a slight tension in my mind. The hound stood on its hind legs, placed its forelegs on my shoulders, looked on my face with a friendly expression and enquired: “What time is your bus?” “Ten O clock” I replied calmly.

SPIRITual Bliss And A Bewildered Friend

A couple of years back, I had met this guy from North India who was on a short term assignment to Bangalore. He was a pale, lean and tall person, so naive that I crossed a busy Bangalore road and had to wait for ten minutes for him to cross. I had spent a couple of days with him and had took him around our locality to show the place. Everything in Bangalore- food, transport, culture, language, people- was all very new to him. If you are from Bangalore, you probably will be familiar with the sight of men fallen on ground in deep drunken stupor- in a real SPIRITual bliss. That day when I took him to a crowded market there were three of them lying just some ten meters apart. When my friend saw this sight that was alien to him, he stared for some moments, then looked at me and whispered nervously: "They are not dead. Are they?" "No, they aren't... I hope they aren't", was my reply. ...who knows?

5 Things I Learned During Crisis

I hope I was missed. It is more than three months since I have posted anything here. There was a crisis in my life. I may share the details here some other time, may be at a time when I will be able to look back into all that happened in last three months and smile at them. But as they say, anything that does not kill you makes you tough. It was a learning period, when you are in the middle and lot of stuff happens around, things you wish had never happened, people you wish you had never met. Needless to say, I lost few things, but gained a lot. The crisis is unsolved yet and I am in no way sure of the outcome, but as of now, I am at peace with myself and the world. I am in a position now, to look back at things and analyze them, though it makes me feel sad. I thought I will make my come back post by writing about few things that I learned during this time. May be you can use them sometime.

1.     Face the heat: You got two options when shit hits the fan- run for cover or stay and face the heat. You run from any problem, it always finds a way to reach back to you. But if you stand and face it, in your terms and your way, there eventually emerges a solution. It may not be what you wanted, but some solution is better than no solution. At least you will not face the same problem again. And even if you do, you have some idea of how to tackle it again, because you stood up and faced it first time.

2.    Forget the convenient way, go for the right one instead: While facing any problem, there are many ways you can go about it. Normally people end up taking the first visible path that is seen in front. Because it is convenient. It is a well made path and you have a comfortable journey. The best thing is that you reach somewhere too. But most of the times it may not be the right path. The destination that you reach may not be the one where you should be because all you were looking at was the smooth, wide highway just in front of you. If you want to reach the right destination, you may have to look more intensely. It may be a path that is less travelled, laid with gravel, thorns and many obstacles, but which will take you were you really want to reach. Sometimes you may not even have a way to reach there and you have to make a new path. It is tough, but better than reaching a false destination and pretending that you have done a right thing.

3.       Let the life be principle-centered: All of us built our lives around some objects or virtues. We have lot of money-centered people amongst us, who is hell bent on making money their sole destination. There are luxury-centered people, God-centered people, spouse centered people, job- centered and alcohol centered people. What is your center? I feel we have to be principle centered. I feel I should have a set of well formed principles on which I build my life. My actions should be based on them. I told to someone last day, “I don’t feel the need of convincing you or anyone the rightness of my deeds. The only guy whom I should convince is that man in the mirror whom I see daily. If I am unable to meet my eyes with him, I know I am in some real trouble.” I believe principle centeredness gave me the confidence to assert it. But do not be too tight with your principles too. You will soon be an arrogant ego centered person. Every while let your inner man- the man in the mirror, audit your principles and let him to modify or scrap it for you. 

4. Keep your options open: No one can say what lies in future. Never shut a door fully unless you are clearly convinced it is out of bounds. Keep the good relations; give whatever support you can to anyone around you without giving a thought if they deserve it. Be open to everyone and every thing, because anything that comes to your life makes a mark on it. It is up to you how you interpret if the influence is good or bad. Let your life be flexible enough to accommodate diversity and it will surely pay one time or other.

5.      Money is a means, not the end: Money is never an evil. It is a necessity. Just like air and water is required to sustain life, in modern life money is essential to sustain and develop you. But undue importance should not be given for money. There is no point in killing a relationship for sake of money.

That's all for now, guys. Keep smiling.

Allianz of Crooks

An email made my day...! Today I received an email from an international figure. Some one, if not for the strict and religious upbringing in which she was brought up, would have been as influential and popular as Winnie Mandela or Hilary Clinton. Someone whose better half controlled the destiny of a nation for decades. But as Lady Luck was not in the favor of this lady, her husband was murdered in a coup and she is orphaned. Alone and with her husband's huge treasure in her custody, she want to relocate and settle in my country doing any business. And she has chosen me for guarding her money of which I will get a small share... 

Ladies and Gentlemen, please lent your ears for the wails of this lonely lady... wife of the Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi:

Greetings in the name of Allah,

am the  wife of the late Libyan president Gadafi who was killed

by rebels on Thursday 20th  oct 2011, please my life is in big

danger and I would like to use you as my contact to move a huge

some of money and start living a free life in your country. for

I have been on veils as a Muslim since he married me, which is

our religious rights, nobody has seen my face or known me except

my children and himself and I thank Allah for this.

I cannot be identified by anybody in the world now that things

has gone bad. Am taking refuge in Algeria. I and my children

can't go back to Libya for now.We are afraid that our life could

be in danger in Libya.The death of my husband was a broad day

murder by the Libya rebel.he was captured and was killed not by

stray bullet as the would was made to believe.

I want to relocate to your country,to start up a new life. I

have some money in my possession which i will like to invest in

any profitable business in your country.I want you to guard me

through the business i will invest.I will reward with 20 percent

of the total money.

Please,I will give you more information as soon as I hear

from.kindly send your reply to my private id:

mrs.safia-gadafi@hotmail.com

Waiting to hear from you.

Mrs. Safia Gadafi

My only problem with this wonderfully drafted letter is the spelling mistake in the name of this widow. The height of internet scam... 

But now a days these things never bother me. In such cases my stand is that, if someone is fooled by these schemes, they deserves it. What bothers me is perfectly legitimate business houses doing robbery on broad daylight legally. And helpless public falling for sweet promises and parting their hard earned money. If you check the title of this post, you will know who is this party about whom I mentioned. 

When an insurance adviser, who was rather close to my family and who had helped us in past approached me to take a policy, one with a very reasonable premium and which is in no way a burden for me, I was only glad to oblige. The most attractive thing that he told was that after paying three year's premium we can withdraw the amount at any time as we chose and even if we never pay the premium, it will never lapse. That was how I took my first ULIP plan. After paying three year's premium, I never thought of it again as I was planning to withdraw the money in case of any urgent requirement. And the need struck now. 

That was how I found myself at their office last day morning. The person at reception was much helpful. He listed out the required forms and proofs for surrender of the policy. He even suggested waiting for a few more days to withdraw, as the market was not healthy right then. He filled the form for me and shown the places where I should put my sign. Then he lead me to another officer sitting in a cubicle. This guy checked my policy number, typed it in his system and after a few minutes of calculation, announced the total amount due to me if I surrendered the policy then. 

I was startled. It was almost 45 % less than my fund value. May be he made an error while telling me. I tried to correct him. But he confirmed the amount and told the difference is due to the surrender fee. A surrender fee amounting to 45% of the total amount due to me? My knees got weak. Blood rushed to my head. He was  telling me to wait for more time as with time the surrender fee will reduce incrementally and at the end of 20 years it will be zero. I told why I was not told about the surrender fee, if it was this huge. All I was told by everyone was that after three years I can withdraw the money at any time. There was a formula for surrender fee in their policy document, a bizarre one which did not made any sense to me or any of my much experienced friends to whom I showed it. I collected all the copies and documents on the desk, stuffed it in my bag all the while telling him how big a cheat his organization was. And while coming out of his cubicle, I gave my parting address.

"Look my friend, if you guys think that you and your firm can do this New Year party with my hard earned money, I am not game. You all can go to hell, I am not going to give you a paisa of it. See you after 20 years."    

Small Minds, Big Mouths...

Today I had a visitor in factory, Mr RR. Actually, he appears at least 2 times weekly. He is our machining vendor. Whenever there are any machining jobs that we cannot do in house, we delegate it to his company. Best thing is that he has most of the machines required by us and it saves lot of my following up time and he comes at least 50% cheap compared to other vendors. Today he had come to deliver some material. When he arrived, I was coming out of canteen having just finished my lunch. The moment I saw him, I asked him whether he had his lunch. I told him to immediately go to canteen and have it when he answered negatively.

Later he came, we discussed the things and I told him to wait in reception area as some paper work had to be finished. I took leave of him and was just moving to my work area, when the Security Supervisor came hurriedly towards me.

"Sir, from now on wards lunch won't be provided to visitors.." He told in a serious tone.

I was aghast. "But why?"

pic courtesy: zazzle.com

"Sir, there are lot of troubles when we provide lunch to them. Many times our boys are missing lunch. So this was a decision taken by HR and Finance managers. Today you should not have let RR have lunch."

"But I don't have any information on this sudden change of policy. And it is cheap to deny visitors their lunch."

"But I have noticed many times that Mr RR comes exactly at lunch time- between 1 to 2, and straight goes to canteen. This is happening from some time and we cannot allow this."

"Is this your observation?"

"Yes, and I have told the Finance Manager about this."

My blood boiled. "I will speak with the Manager. You can carry on."

RR was standing some 10 feet behind me. I was afraid that he might have overheard the conversation. The Security Supervisor had a sound similar to a locomotive engine. It will be a disgrace if he had heard it. I could not even look back due to shame.

I went straight to Finance Manager's chamber. Asked for some time of his and explained him what has happened.

"Sir, that guy RR is a vendor of ours. He has a factory of his own. He provides occupation for at least 8 workers there. He makes at least ten times more than what I get every month. He behaves to all of us, including the Security personnel, in a humble manner, with utmost respect because we are his customers. That does not give us any right to insult him like that. He arrives here in his own vehicle spending petrol worth at least Rs 500. According to that great watch man, it is for eating this free lunch worth Rs 20..."

FM, being a pacifier calmed me down with sweet words, promised necessary warning will be given to Supervisor and put all the blame on HR manager, as it usually happens.

Some people never see the big picture...

Debates: Past and present...

In olden times, people who did not have any work used to pass their time by debating!... What they do is, they select a verse or a stanza of a poem written by some no-good jobless poet, usually in Sanskrit and debate on that. The first assumption made by these pseudo pundits is that this worthless piece of poem deals with the existential perils of mankind and contains a deep meaning and can cure the world of all its troubles...  So each of them interprets it, finds the meaning and try to assert that, their view, which no one in the group follows, is correct. Verbal fights occur among the participants, each of whom equipped with ideas of their own, to claim that they are right. The poor poet delights in all the unwanted attention that his useless  poem receives. 

Last few days, I am standing on the pedestal of the poet. I was told to make a financial statement of my department. As I am just 6 months old there, and the management wanted to show the expenses ridiculously low and the time alloted to  make it was less and I had many other urgent duties to attend, (add any other excuses that you can think of), I made an extensive report without researching, mostly out of my own imagination...! 

After getting my emailed report, the finance manager never bothered to look into it let even correct and forwarded it, as it is, to the auditors. Auditors, who could not make the head and tail of it, asked the manager to put some sense into it. Baffled manager interpreted it as per his limited knowledge and needless to say, the interpretation was bull. Auditors got further confused.  They wanted to clarify it from the person who made the report. Manager asked my boss to make some sense out of it. My boss who made an equally imaginary report last year, added his inputs, further complicating the matters. The auditors came with hundred objections. Meetings after meetings, where all of us auditors, finance manager, my boss and me debated on and on taking different points to suit our individual requirements. We decided to maintain our stand, with blessing from our big boss. More lies were added to the whirlpool by making many more imaginary, ridiculous reports... Tomorrow, finally the tired auditors want to close the audit. I have just made two more reports containing the details which they have asked and am hoping to end the trauma once and for all. 

Pray for me.. :)

On other news, I watcher Transformers 3 last week. And boy, it was the most tiring movie that I ever watched. The humor was inane, acting bad and the CGI was too long. The climax was so long and pointless that, I felt it was longer than the actual movie.. And I also watched X Men: First Class, which compared to the inane Transformers installment was first class. Another watch was a Thai Action comedy called Saturday Killer, which I will recommend to any avid movie watchers not to watch... Most ridiculous comedy I have watched in a while, cringe worthy is an under statement... 

Reading in Bangalore...

I have always been passionate about reading, which is evident if you have been visiting this place often. I should thank my parents and relatives who have brought me up by supporting this passion. If I get a book about anything, I will sit in a corner and devour it without caring a hoot about the world. In my childhood it was those Malayalam children's weeklies like Balarama, Poompatta and many of them like Chandamama that I used to satisfy my pang for the written word. In fifth class, I joined in two libraries near my home and serious reading began.

And what a coincidence! Now after decades, in Bangalore I have joined two fantastic libraries and am juggling my spare time between the books supplied by them. Both are professionally managed ones with an impressive catalog.

Before joining them, I had been getting my regular supply of books from peddlers on street. You can buy two books for Rs 140, and if after reading, when returned you can get half your money back or one book of your choice. Bargain was ok, but quality of books are really bad and the choice is limited to popular ones, which I do not have much interest in reading.

Then I happened to see the site of Librarywaala, and checked out the plans. I just tried to join and left half way. You have give some personal details and can join by paying through net banking. I just gave the details and left it there. Next week someone called from their office and they had a new year offer. So I opted for a 3 book plan per month and joined. Mr Manjunath came all the way (around 80 kms up and down) to my office to collect the payment and  deliver the first set of books. And from then on I am regularly getting 3 books every month delivered at my home. Service is good, you can order by internet, no fuss... The collection is also quite good. I especially love the non-fiction segment. They have a variety there! Fiction is also good, but limited to popular ones. I cannot get much of Camus, Kundera or Marquez there.  

Then I discovered that there was another library just behind my home. It is called Just Books. They too have a site and you can order books and get door delivery, but for preferred memberships only. I took a membership for unlimited number of books for Rs 150. The main attraction is the kiosk on the entrance where you can place your book and membership card and issue or return your books. You can search for titles and if they are not available in that branch, it can be ordered from any other branch, where it may be available. Here, non fiction department is not so strong, but fiction part is impressive. You name it and it is there. 

So things are going pretty strong in the reading front and you can see the result in blog. 

Spoilt for choice...

Last day the office canteen boy asked me, "Sir, when are you going to Kerala next?"

"Next week maybe, or the week after that."

"Will you bring banana chips for me?"

"No"

He was offended, though I told it in a light vein. If I say yes, and even if I never brought him the chips, he would have been happy. My telling no was unexpected and he was upset. But he also had to think that he gave me a choice. It was a yes or no question that he asked and logically he do not have any right to be upset when my answer is negative. He was supposed to be prepared for that. Because there was  50% chance for a negative answer.

So the moral of the story is that, never ever give a choice to anyone when you want only one outcome as an answer.

Speaking about choices, I wanted to write a post on them from long time back. But this incident last day prompted me to start it.

I started browsing through channels in TV last day and was flicking the remote for an hour or so without watching a program for even a minute fully. I see a movie playing and feel that on the other channel I thought I saw a better one, but by the time I reach that channel, advertisements had started. Then again I continue surfing.. Same thing happen when I am in the library. A long array of books and I keep moving from one rack to another, from one genre to another, takes a book at first and then browse some more. Put it back and grab another one... Making a choice is tough. especially for these small  things like watching a movie or choosing where to eat. Is it all the perils of modern technology? Bombarding our simple every day life with so many choices? 

Last day I watched this ad for iphone telling that if you do not have an iphone, you don't have one. (Of course I never bought an iphone, but after watching the ad, now I am sure I don't have one.) They say you can choose form 30000 applications!!!! 30000... What were they thinking?!!! Just to chose one or two from them will be like searching a  needle in Sahara desert. In my phone I have four applications, Opera Mini, Snaptu, Newshunt and Kakuro (a fine game that can give some good exercise to brain). Except for the first and the last one, I opens them only once in a blue moon... I cannot imagine what I will do after downloading 30000 applications... Same thing about that 5 TB hard disk my good friend boasts about. 5 TB is a lot of space. If I fill it with movies, I will not be even able to watch it all in my life time, especially being in my current job. 

So the world is hell bend on spoiling us with choices. Remember the good old days of Doordarshan? We used to wait for a week to watch a Malayalam movie, Rangoli or Chitrhaar! Once in DD national they started this top 10 song show called Ek Se Badhkar Ek. We were quite impressed by the show because all the popular songs were shown on a single episode. The hitch came during the second episode. My parents did not like it. They were asking what fun is there in watching the same 10 songs consecutively for two weeks. And next year we bought cable. Now around 5 channels played the same songs every half hour. And worst part is that we got used to it. 

You know what I am longing for now? A world that is not so complicated, giving us infinite choices for every options that we have. For important options, it is good, a better job, a better study course, I don't mind a lot of options for these things. But for trivial needs do we require these much? Call me demented. I don't mind. I want only one TV channel that shows one quality program at a time. A library that issues one book selected randomly without telling me to choose from 50 titles of fluorescent colored jackets written by Danielle Steel. A movie theater with a single screen. An election  candidate list with just two contestants to select from..  

Lessons That I Learned as a Mechanical Engineer: One

I have read a lot of forwarded emails circulating with similar themes as that  of this title which are quite humorous. I myself has forwarded some of them. This post is more of a rumination of what exactly I learned, or imbibed in life as a mechanical engineer. Wherever I had worked, (there are quite some places, thanks to my nomadic nature!) the basic mode of work is similar, which can serve as a good model in any walk of life. 

 

Before proceeding, I will introduce you to a few terms, which will make our discussion more comprehensible. First one is PROCESS. Process is when some work is done on a set of inputs to give a desired output. So it becomes imperative that the quality and quantity of  inputs as well as the work done is what decides the quality of output. Next word is SYSTEM. System is a collection of different processes, that are interconnected with each other and mostly the output of one process serves as the input of another one. 

Consider life as a system, entangled with numerous interrelated processes. If any of the process is not giving the desired result, analyze the inputs that you feed into the system. Check it both quantitatively and qualitatively. Also give a look to the way you use the input. There may be an anomaly in the way you process them. Like for example: The gastronomic problem may be due to junk food (quality of input), due to excessive gobbling up of  dinner (quantity of input),  or due to not chewing the food properly and consuming as if world is going to end tomorrow (problem with the process).

See you next time with more...

Life Of Pi: A Bizarre Recommendation

Recommendations find me in very bizarre ways..

I have an interest in quite a wide variety of things, so I always hunt for recommendations- from friends, media, reviews. And some times I get a recommendation out of blue. Many times it works and sometimes not.

Some weeks back I happened to visit a blog in which the blogger wrote a post on feeding her dog. She wanted to know what was the natural food that was to be given. I replied it does not matter because domestication of dog is not a natural process. Hunting is what the natural mode of life sustaining to dog. 

Her reply was that, she took great care of dog, it was comfortable in her home and never wanted to go away. The logic sounds solid, but my doubt was, whether another option is given to dog,? Did it knew it can be free and hunt like his other cousins living in forest? And I mentioned the Jack London's novel Call of the wild, that chronicles the transformation of a dog to a wild hound when it gets a chance to come out of its comfortable human company. 

May be she was a bit irritated, and closed the matter commenting that she believed dogs, and other animals of course, are better protected with humans and they do not have to suffer for food like when in a jungle and she got her opinion from reading Life of Pi, a novel by Yann Martel. 

Now when came across this novel, I remembered this incident and decided to read it. And I am glad I did it. It is a wonderful piece of fiction, kind of Robinson Crusoe meets Panchatantra tales. 

Yann Martel is a Spanish writer, who came to India, to sustain himself as it is cheap here and also to get some inspiration, to write a good novel. He found it in Pondicherry, a former french colony, now a union territory surrounded by Tamil Nadu state. 

Pi, or Piscine Molitor Patel is a sixteen year old boy, the son of a zoo keeper. Political turmoil in the country makes the family decide to sell the animals and settle in Canada. On the way to Canada, the ship in which they travels, sinks. All family is killed except Pi, who escapes on a life boat along with an oddly named Bengal Tiger, Richard Parker! Pi stays in the boat and survives the six month journey with the help of lessons learned about animal behavior in his zoo. No one believes his story when he reaches back to civilization.      

The novel falls flat in the first couple of chapters. The obsession of Pi with all three religoins of the subcontinent reminded me of that scene in Manmohan Desai's epic masala movie Amar, Akbar, Anthony were all three siblings belonging to different religions, unknowingly donates blood to their long lost mother. (The scene shows three of them lying on bed and a tube circulates blood from all three simultaneously into the arteries of the old lady!) The balancing acts gets mushy. Another turn off was the long passages where author tries to justify zoos. Can you imagine Moby Dick starting with Ishmael defending whale hunting?

But once the boat sinks, the story starts floating. The suspense builds up, narrative becomes tight and you can feel the saltiness and heat in the middle of Pacific ocean. Richard Parker steals the show with its antics. The battle for superiority between animals is portrayed with much sincerity.

The notable point of the story is the transformation of the boy. A strict vegetarian by birth, he is forced to eat fish and turtles. The remorse that he feels when he kills a fish the first time just disappears moments later. Later it is also revealed that he ate a small portion of human meat too, of another stowaway, with same intentions, whom he meets mid-sea and whom Richard Parker polishes off.   

After reading the book I feel that my Blogger friend has misread it. The story shows that man is just a civilized animal, who can turn around to his basic instincts once the need arise. Another point is when Richer Parker exits into a jungle after the journey, without even acknowledging the presence of Pi, his tamer (which is strikingly similar to the way in which Buck, the dog in Call of the wild, exits into wild.. So the initial passages justifying zoo life gets contradictory and may be author included it there for irony. Then it is the master stroke of the book!

The new age smuggler.. !

Rajagopal master had just come out of the busy vegetable shop with a bag full of groceries and an empty pocket when a blood red Ford Figo came fast and braked a hairline away from him. The scene was not alien for Master who had tutored around three generations of pupils to greatness. He was used to the scenes where a luxury vehicle stops near him and an old student, now in very good position jump out to show his respect to the pious, old Master.  The one incident that he still boast to his family and students was when a Supreme Court judge, a senior person then and a student of Master in his early days touched his feet to show the respect infront of the whole market.

But today Master was in for a surprise. The person who got down, a young man with a very colourful attire and a pleasant smell that precedes him in a kilometer radius, was Abu, one of Master's recent students, whom he had always considered a failure. The change was more profound because it was just a month back that Master met him at the same place. Then Abu was the owner of a week old stubble, some ill fitting clothes and the smell that comes from inside a cellar fiilled with rats. Abu had failed to find an occupation, something Master always knew. He was pretty tired of life and problems at home. That was his last day in India. One of his distant relative had agreed to take him to Gulf with him and Abu was ready to go anywhere at that point. 

Master was dumbstruck when Abu alighted, his grip on the bag became lose and some vegetables helped themselves out to the road. Gulf is no more a money minting destination and sudden transformation of Abu was unexplainable. Abu gave Master a devoted smile.

"Master, I got a job as an attender in a super market at Qatar. When I saw the price list there I got surprised. One kilogram onion costed only Rs 25! Overnight I switched career and now I am an onion smuggler...!" He explained sheepishly while handing over the onions that fell down from Master's grocery bag.

An introduction..

Yesterday my uncle, my mother's eldest brother, took to blogging. You can read it here. I would like to just give an introduction to my readers, (well, although I am very much inexperianced compared to him in worldly matters, I have a few intelligent readers with me, who are my strength) and I find it my duty not only as a devoted nephew, but also as a concerned human being, to give an introduction to this new blog from a very experianced veteran, so that every one can benefit from the pearls of wisdom shared in it. 

Mr A P Kesavan Namboodiri, a teacher in his early days, took to entrepreneurship and business. Two plus decades of successful business and conventional agriculture later, he literally struck gold with nature. A radical change in the paradigm shifted his attention to nature based agriculture and then into natural living. Now he spends his time succesfully tending to his acres of land which is just left in the hands of nature to be cultivated, livestock that supplements the mutually beneficial living and in giving awareness to the world about this one and only way left for human survival. He has given classes in places throughout Kerala, some of which are aired in radio and several television channels, on his green way of living. He gives as much importance to his action as his words and the result is to been seen in his life- a very healthy and wholesome physical, mental, family, social, economic and spiritual life, emphasising the importance of a balanced living.

Kindly lent an ear to the blog, and give the valuable suggestions, making it a bilateral conversation so that it becomes mutually beneficial.

Thanks...

Being Proactive aka Prevention IS Cure..

"Mr X has ideas, see how he always find a way out in situations!" The voice of security guy whispered in my ear.

A bit of background info. Mr X is the senior manager of the understaffed maintanence department in the place I work. Right then he was standing in the middle of shop floor, giving instructions by sound and actions to some 15 odd workers and engineers, who stood surrounding him. He gave the appearence of the conductor of an orchestra, trying to put his musical thoughts into vocal notes from musicians around him. Tomorrow we have to despatch an important consignment and one crucial machine in the line broke down. His effort was to start the production line by combining some other machines of an adjacent line. He connected the machines by conveyours and made workers to stand in junctions to relay the work from one conveyour end to next. Mindboggling!

I replied to the security guy in whisper, " Mr X has got some really cool ideas. But if atleast some six months back, he had recruited competitive personnel, enforced regular preventive maintenance schedules and ensured the availability of machine spares in case of emergencies, we would never had faced this situation in first case."

Enough of rambling... enjoy these great songs from Amar Prem. (the kind of movie that they can never dream of making these days.) When compared to the acting calibre of Khanna and Tagore, all Khans and Roshans are nowhere in the picture..