A Flower that bloomed in Winter...

After a gap of maybe three or four months I was able to chat with a person from my yesteryears. It was one of those rare moments in life when you feel the blood rush into your veins and arteries. Even you mouth may go dry. Anyway I was happy and excited. Thanking god for this rare encounter.
It may not happen again for the next three to four months.

My love blooms once in a year
I sleep in a valley of tears
Cuddled up in my own world
Never uttering a word
Vibrations have ceased
My mind is in a disturbed peace

Libyan Diary - Part Three

Hello friend…

It has been a while since I recorded my thoughts on Libya. Doing so while living in that land had been a difficult task. I was fully submerged in the cultural and social ethos of that country. Experience after experience fed into my mouth. Sometimes it was more than what I could chew. Most of the times I suffered from indigestion and uneasiness. As I write this third diary I fondly remember the response, you had given me for the first two write-ups on Libya. The only difference this time is that I am writing this episode from my hometown in India. I am somewhat free these days. Please do not think that I using my time in a constructive way by writing this piece. It is the sheer force of memories that made me sit and type this mail today. I have not told you about the seamy side of my life in Libya. It is one part of my life which I am trying to forget, so please do not expect me to elaborate on the details. I have gone through myriad experiences, which will never have any impact on your life. It is somewhat foolishness to share pain with others because your sorrows are your own. They are NOT a public limited company. I am writing this to calm myself and to tell you that this was my life plus the lessons that I learned.

I expected to learn a lot about when I reached Libya. New culture and new people. All that I learned from Libya was about India. It is true that we will compare the new culture with something, which we are already familiar with. Therefore, the immediate reference for Indians in Libya was India. It began with food and most of the time ended with woman. I still remember one doctor friend of mine making a remark comparing Indian women and Libyan women. According to him, Indian women had a special quality, which the Libyans greatly lacked. To describe that quality he used the word – Femininity. I am still puzzled at this description and I have stopped thinking about that.

The initial few months in Libya was a BPL (Below Poverty Line) existence. Everybody saving dinars as Libyans saved water in the Sahara desert. For me it had been a wonderful learning experience. With whatever the amount the University gave, I purchased a laptop. It was like buying a dream from a shop. I was so possessive about my first laptop that I never allowed a second person to touch it. I never saw the mischievous smile that was there in God’s face. Exactly four months after I purchased the laptop, it was stolen one day. It happened on a Sunday. Sundays in Libya never used to have the romantic touch that we usually associate with Sundays in India. To describe Indian Christian Sundays in four words (Church/Heavy lunch/afternoon nap/Evening tea plus Sunday movie in television). I along with my friend was at the police station filing a complaint for the lost laptop. We had two Libyans with us to translate English to Arabic. That night my mind and body was in state of numbness. I was able to measure the degree of attachment I had with my Laptop. The song by Queen – ‘Too Much Love Will Kill You’ and the poetic lines ‘Good fences make Good neighbours’ kept me awake that night.

On one side, my fellow Indian friends were drowning in the financial whirlpool and on the other side I was trying to cope with the loss of a material thing. I did receive kind words of encouragement and support from people around me. Some were from the heart and others from the throat. I learned two main lessons from this incident.

Never be attached to anything in this world – animate or inanimate – I appreciate the romantic poets for coining the word – Negative Capability. The concept of hating and loving the same thing.

People and the emotions they shower upon you, need not be genuine. They can act and react in umpteen ways, which will make Al Pacino a pygmy.

That’s all for the time being
I will be back with some more stories about my life in Libya. I have many topics to cover

Some sample topics:
How I survived an attempt on life and property?
Can Jealousy turn a Man into a Hooligan?
An Arabian tale of Communism
Money, Money, Money- It is so funny for Indians in Libya.


With love and respect
Prem

Rajasthan Diary

Hello friend;

Date is 4-01-2005. Tonight I decided to create this small but detailed log of my travel. I came back from the land of deserts and camels this evening. I am aware that I am tired but something in me tells me that I should write this and share with you things that have happened in my life for the past 8 days. I will write about a Rajasthan that I have experienced. Sometimes my rambling may run into the wilderness of confusion and boredom so please try to adjust with my wordy jugglery. I along with my team members (Roy and Athi) left Chennai on the 26th of December. It was a terrible day for many people. Tsunami created fear both in the minds of the people and on the land. I received three frantic calls from Maijo+ fly who had ventured out of the hotel to see the Crocodile Park.(I told him in a humorous way that there is no need to go out to see the aquatic creatures and asked him to wait for one more day so that they will reach the hotel lobby). They came back to their rooms since their driver refused to take them beyond a certain point on East Coast Road. Even my team member’s fly members were anxious about the fact that the train travelled through the coastal line. However, keeping our trust in God and Laloo Prasad Yadav we started our much dreamt and anticipated journey to Rajasthan.

I considered myself lucky to travel with two individuals who were coming from the security of their homes. The Mother Factor (‘sharing, caring, loving pieces of ghee’ that is how I describe over emotional moms) came to our rescue in the sense that my co-travellers were equipped with chapattis and rotis made to last for two days. All these were done so that we eat good home-prepared food. Therefore, from Chennai to Jaipur pantry car was a distant dream. Nevertheless, we were as hungry as the tsunami, which voraciously licked the shores of India. Food items started flowing in from the stations from Nagpur we had Vadilal ice cream, cold lassi and oranges.

We reached Jaipur on the 28th morning. The sight, which welcomed us to Jaipur, was the ‘yellow fields’. It was indeed a great spectacle to see the yellow flowers dancing in the morning sun. They reminded me of the ‘tujhe dekho tho ye janna sanam’ song from DDLJ. I really do not remember the name of the crop but know that they make oil out of those flowers. Our fourth team member (Joshua) who is from Ajmer was at the station to receive us. Checked into a budget hotel, refreshed ourselves. It was not that cold. It was more like Bangalore in November. After all the necessary preparations like charging the camera batteries and cell phones, we set out to explore the city. As we travelled through the heart of the city, we saw the prominently placed statue of Sawai Jai Singh the founder king of the city. Our first pit stop was the Albert hall, which was the museum and the art gallery.

Nothing caught my attention inside the hall. The so-called social fabric of Rajasthan was presented in different ways. Outside the museum, there is a place where people feed the pigeons. It was indeed a very appealing sight. One brilliant moment was when I saw a little child dart into the flock of pigeons, which made them all to take a swift flight and come back to the same area for more food. Birla Mandir was another place where I could see many pigeons. Wherever they sat, they left their imprint in the form of faeces. Inside the mandir, there was a unique but overflowing silence. The place was an excellent example of the so-called secular imago of the Indian sub-continent. Therefore, there was Christ, Ram and Krishna ‘imprisoned’ in the same pillar.

Right from the moment I reached Jaipur, I was searching for the colour pink. Because I have heard that, the city is known as the Pink City. It’s only after the conversation I had with our driver that I realised that it is only a part of the city that is covered in pink. This part of the city is also walled and had very strong link with the royal past of Rajasthan. Inside the Pink city, we saw Hawa Mahal or ‘the palace of winds’. The 5-storyed stunning semi octagonal monument had 152 windows. Our driver old us that it was originally designed for the royal women to catch the cool breeze on a hot day and enjoy the processions and other activities, on the streets below.

After travelling through the busy streets of Jaipur, we reached Jaal Mahal. This is an exquisite construction in the City of Jaipur.A huge lake with a royal building exactly at the center of it. As I was engrossed in scanning the building that was in a dilapidated condition, I heard a soothing tune. I turned my head in that direction and I could see one small girl wearing Rajasthani dress dancing to the tunes of a musical instrument. I do not have words to explain the joy I had listening to that piece of music that was so pure to the ears. The instrument was a tribal one (don’t remember the name) and the old man who was playing that was doing so for a livelihood. It was near the Jaal-mahal I tasted the big papad, which they sell for three rupees. It was so big that four of us had a tough time finishing it. We also had garama-garam tea along with it. As I left the precincts of Jaal-mahal. I could see the little girl and the old man trying to sell their goods to a foreigner.

It is only when we ate the papad we realised how hungry we were. We did not have a proper breakfast, because the theme of our trip was ‘minimal investment and proper commitment’. Lunch beckoned us. Landed in a restaurant, which served original Rajasthani food. I decided to try some Rajasthani Thali.
(In Rome, I should eat like a Roman.)
Roti (unlimited)
Pyas (onion pieces sprinkled with lemon juice)
Hari mirchi (green chilly)
Chawal
Gobi curry
Daal
Big pappad
For the above food items like a maharaja, I paid 50 rs

Post lunch session we headed towards the Amber fort. From a distance, the fort looked splendid. A moat encircled the fort. 25 years back the moat contained ferocious crocodiles. When the British army invaded the area, it seems they had to aim their cannons on these creatures before they could attack the fort. After witnessing the interiors of the fort, which was as crowded as T-nagar Ranganathan Street, we returned to the heart of the city of Jaipur.Had some kachori and kebab which was our dinner. Somebody suggested that we go for a movie. Thus, we all got into an auto and soon found a place in the theatre watching the latest Sharukhkhan movie Swades. There ended our first day and night in the state of Rajasthan.

Here ends the story of the first day. There remains the experience of seven more days to tell and like the Arabian nights, they are equally enchanting and enriching. I promise to tell you the remaining story when we meet next time. Camel ride, ethnic delicacy-Daal Bati, New Year eve at Ajmer, evening with JD in his farm, the beautiful sunset at Mount Abu, and the return journey. Let there be a willing suspension of disbelief.
Take care
Bye
Premjith Mathew

Libyan Diary Part Two

Dear friend
This is the part two of my writings based on my life in Libya
Hope you will enjoy reading it
Season’s greetings
Hello friend
Writing to you has become a pleasure and the pleasure seems to increase when there is a critical and creative feedback from your side. As I look through the window of my home in Libya I see the endless rows of olive trees. Libya is one of the leading nations which exports olive oil. I sometimes wonder how these people succeeded planting all these trees in the so – called desert land. To the East of the place I live is the Sahara desert (maybe some 1000 kms). It is one my plans to go for a desert ride and a camp fire. I heard that there are tourist packages from Tripoli. The program includes journey in a desert friendly vehicle (maybe a Range-rover), and night stay in the desert. The real fun and the reason why most people go to the desert safari is the cultural program that is organized at night which includes the rib- tickling 'belly dance'. I heard that the belly dancers are 'imported' from Egypt- the place where the dance form originated. It is a dance form where the pelvic area is the only part that takes an active part in the dancing. Gyrating the hips and legs are also part of this dance. It may sound easy but in reality it is difficult. There are also some rumours doing the rounds that there are plans to introduce belly-dancing in some of the five star hotels in Tripoli. To talk about the entertainment acts of this country – the only thing people do is to smoke cigarettes and the hookah. Even though these two activities may appear highly sexual and hence Freudian, this sums up the pleasure quotient of a Libyan. People engage themselves in discussions at cafes and hotels filling their lungs and the room with holy smoke. The only TV channel that this people blindly follow is Al-jazeera which was infamous for its connections with Osama. I really like watching that channel because of its quality programmes and their cute and sexy newsreaders. In Libya like any other Arabic countries, pornographic channels are easily available. The satellite which provides these channels is called Hotbird. In most of the homes they are against the idea of keeping a satellite dish because of this. There is also another satellite which is called Blue Nile that caters to the family audiences.
With my three and half a month experience of this place I have discovered one more entertainment activity of these people. Marriage and marriage and marriage. The reason why I typed the word three times is to show you, my dear friend the number of times these people get married. A man who is 50 years of age will at least have 3 wives. Now to you....this may appear very strange but in Libya the status of a man is measured in terms of his willingness and financial status to take wives. For a woman it is based on the number of offspring's she can produce. I have a friend who is very eager to get married. He is working in an oil company and is in his early 30's.In Libya for a man to get married he should possess a house , a car and 20,000 Libyan dinars.Because of this it is difficult for a man to get married. Somehow I think that this is a good custom which makes man really aware of the importance of a woman. I still don't understand why Islam is criticized for its anti-feminine stand. So my friend is searching for a bride and he sometimes comes to the college under the pretence of meeting me and looks at the girls in the campus. I hope that very soon he will get a bride and they both will live happily forever. Marriage ceremony as such in Libya is something which will extend for 2-3 days. The most interesting part of the marriage is the night time activity of taking the bride or the bridegroom around the city. As the procession of 10-12 cars move they make lot of noise by honking horns and singing songs...my dear friend I have never seen such vigour and happiness in my life. Most of the marriages happen in the month of December. The winter season according to Libyans is the right time for mating. There is a proverb in Arabic which when translated will be like this – 'In winter the young get married and the old goes to Mecca'.
Marriage feast include food items that will surely delight the taste buds in our tongue. Rice, Chicken shiva, Tamia, Shaberma and lots of fruits makes up the food-menu of a marriage. I want to tell two interesting things about marriage in Libya. I have a friend in Tripoli who is helping his father to run a coffee shop in Al-Fateh towers (something like Spencer plaza in Chennai). One day after having some refreshments from that shop, I quizzed him about his family and in a quite normal way asked him how may brothers and sisters he has got. I was taken aback when he replied that he has got 14 brothers and 6 sisters. Seeing the amazement on my face he added with a tinge of shyness – 'My father has got three wives'. After one week I heard from another friend that the size of a Libyan house is determined by the size of the family i.e. the number of wives and children who live in that house. For example when a person is getting married for the first time he will have a house with just the ground floor, then as he takes the second wife, he will construct one more floor for the new bride and a second floor if he going for the third one. One my favourite pastime here is to look for houses which have got the maximum number of floors. So far I have seen four. After a particular point, the wives will all come and live together in one floor with their daughters who have attained puberty. The male children are not supposed to see their own sisters. Some kind of method which prevents them from committing incest.
I am sure that by the time I write my next Libyan diary i.e. the third part I would have collected more information about the topic of marriage.
So here I am saying goodbye in English and I look ahead to meet you, amigo with some special topics like Arabic music and campus life (wow – that will be a must read for you all)
Bye
Prem

Libyan Diary - Part One

Libyan diary- Part One

Hello friend...

I am writing this mail to tell you about my life in Libya. This is just a sharing exercise. I felt that you should know about this land and the people who live here. More important than that is my life in this land. I never imagined that I will leave all my friends and come here to teach and to live my life. I thank God for giving me this opportunity to explore a land which is away from my homeland.

After purchasing my laptop I wrote the following words –

Libya the land of opportunities welcomed me with open arms….life here is yet to be known…new places….new faces…and new challenges…let me wait and watch…removed from native town and familiar faces…maybe this is want God intends for me…no complaints…need to adjust and live here…after all my life had been a lonely one….so I am on familiar terrain….let me convert my loneliness into something….creative…and make my life worthy of living….as the Libyan student whom I met this morning told me…in our life we have a purpose to fulfill and the whole life we are engaged in finding out what the purpose...IS…

So thus I began my life here. It’s only after I came here that I started having nostalgic thoughts about my home and my friends. I am thankful to you for supporting me and giving me companionship for watching movies at Satyam, visiting British council, drinking KF strong beer and doing all sorts of things. When I look back at my life in India I only have gratitude and happiness. First I thank God for providing friends like you and then thank you for being there with me.

Libya is little difficult place to make friends. The first problem is language and then the religion. Libyans are conservative. An average Libyan’s life is nothing when compared to the gizmo-friendly, cosmopolitan life of an Indian.
Somehow I feel that these people are happy without movies, alcohol, music and freedom. They are religiously restricted but still they are free. It may sound strange to you but that’s what I have discovered. The men are as usual dominating here. Women are engrossed in keeping themselves beautiful- something which you can find even in India. In Libya a women’s life is divided into two stages – in the first stage she spends lots of time decorating her body with mehandi and other foreign cosmetics. In the next stage you can see her with her family. By this time she would have reduced herself to the status of a child producing machine. Her social status is based on the number of children she has created. A man enjoys all the freedom and is interested in getting pleasure from his wife. Interestingly the Arabian cultural treatise on sex called the Perfumed Garden deals with sexual positions that give more pleasure to men than the women.

As a foreigner I don’t have any direct contact with the Libyan society. I am just an observer and what is said above is just a personal observation. My immediate contacts are my students. Young boys and girls who come to kulia (‘college’ in Arabic) to learn something. Girls see this as a means of getting out of their homes to breathe some free fresh air. Not all of them belong to this category there are some of them that are really interested in taking up a job and has got some thoughts about a career. Maybe out of a class of seventy, thirty are interested are pursuing their higher studies. They want to take up their Master degree and do it in a foreign university. Let us see what happens to the other group. They are the real people who add spice to my class and life. The first thing is that they are beautiful and because of that they are not interested in learning anything. They are too conscious of their beauty. To be frank (with due respect to Miss World and Miss Universe contests...) the real Arabian beauty is not yet discovered. Their untouched and virgin beauty is something that needs to be recognized. When I talk about beauty – I mean nothing about their nakedness or voyeuristic appeal... but their eyes... they are so appealing that one day I almost stopped teaching socio-linguistics just because one girl was giving me an interesting unsocialistic glance. Their eyes are blue in color and they have a magical power to tantalize you. My friend the only regret I have is that, I don’t have a snap to exemplify my point. As a teacher I am not supposed to tell you about all these things. It is a crime against this country and culture. As I said in the beginning of this letter it is just my ‘passion to share’ that is making me to write all these things. I always maintain my distance from these icons of beauty......

The letter will continue....
You will receive the second part of the letter depending on the interest you are showing and the feedback you provide.

In the next part you will hear about Libyan Marriage and Food, Music, and spicier stuff......

So expecting to hear from you very soon.

This is Prem saying masalama (‘goodbye’ in Arabic)

The Human and the Inhumane - A short play based on a real event.

The Human and the Inhumane

The Human and the Inhumane

Narrator’s voice: How much do we know about the world we live in. How much we are interested in knowing about the world. It is high time that we admitted the naked reality about our own ignorance. Can we just sit in our cozy living room and weep staring at the unrealistic soaps? Can we look at the images flashed through the news channel about the plight of the bomb blast victims? When will our conscious awake? Form a sleepy indifferent ‘I don’t care’ attitude when will we speak out and say ‘I do care’.

This short stage presentation is not fictional. The characters you see here are real and they do exist around you. It is a humble effort to bring out to you certain truths. Maybe we are just putting forth certain questions. The answer to these questions can be difficult to find. To begin with at least let us ask some questions......

Characters

A mother – Middle aged
Two children – 8 -9 years old
Father – Middle aged

Scene one
(Early morning....a room somewhere in Bihar. It’s a room which has got a kitchen and few vessels are scattered here there. From the distant you can listen to a Hindi bhajan. As the light comes on the stage the figures sleeping on the floor become visible. Woman is the first one to get up. She is dressed up in a tattered sari. She ties up her loose hair and looks at the two sleeping children. Her face is filled with love and maternal care. She stretches her hand and runs her fingers through their hair. She pulls up the blanket and covers them properly. The blanket has got many holes in it. She looks to the other side and watches the man who is snoring loudly and gives an angry look at him. She gets up and looks at the stove. She checks whether something is there inside the earthen pot kept on the stove.Realising that it is empty she gives a groan ‘Hey Bhagavan’

Woman - ‘what should I do to end this misery’ my children (looking at them) what will I do? How will I fill your little stomach today? There is nothing to cook and the vessels have been empty for the past three days. Oh... bhagavan! I tried my best yesterday to get some food for you but nobody was ready to give me some grain. (She gets up and starts walking up and down muttering to her self ‘what I will do’ ‘what will I do...’)

(There is a movement in the floor and her husband is shown waking up from his sleep. He looks around and takes out a bottle which is empty and tries drinking from it. He tries again and again taking a gulp not realizing that it is empty. Finally he gives up and throws the bottle to one corner of the room. It lands with a sound, making his wife who all the while was standing in a corner, look at him)

Woman – So, moron, you are awake?
Man – (still in a tipsy state mumbles something which is not audible)
Woman – Are you not going to work today?
Man – work work work and drink drink drink.
Woman – I am going to the Jaminadar’s house to search for some work. I am leaving the children with you. Take care of them until I come back.
Man – yes yes take care of the children yes yes.

Woman leaves the scene after giving a final look at the children

Scene Two.
The children are shown playing in the room. A girl and a boy throwing a paper ball at each other. The man is not to be seen there.
Girl - Let’s stop playing, I am feeling hungry
Boy – Me too sister.
Girl – Where is our mother?
Boy - I didn’t see her today. I wonder where she has gone.
Girl – I know where our father will be
Boy – He is always there- in that shop - where they sell that brown color drink.
Girl - That is not what you think it is
Boy – What is it then?
Girl – It is called alcohol and people who consume it will be put to sleep
Boy – Let’s continue with our game, sister
Girl – yes

Scene three

Children are still playing.the man enters. He is moving in a zig-zaggy way, moving sideways not forward (typical gestures and postures of an alcoholic. Children are not aware of his presence they continue playing. He starts talking to himself (monologue)

Me - a father and a husband ha ha ha (laughs in a hysterical way) Pillar of the family, provider of warmth and comfort to my family. I am nothing... I don’t have anything.... the loving face of my wife and the smiling faces of my children frighten me. I want to escape ...escape... and for that (raises the bottle which is half-full) he is my friend. He is great. (Takes the bottle and keeps it on his head and shouts) ‘Hail my friend’ ‘Hail my friend’

Children stops playing the game and approach him with hesitant steps

Boy – ‘Father what are you drinking?’
Girl – ‘Father we are hungry’

Man – ‘Hunger- What is it? Tell me what it is? (Takes hold of them) I don’t know what hunger is?’

Children (in unison) – We are hungry father.

Man – ‘So both of you are hungry and I should do something about it. I will do what I am doing to myself. I will help you to forget your hunger. As a father I should make you happy’.

Children (in unison) – ‘How will that happen father? How can you do that father?

Man – ‘my friend will help you. He has helped me and will help you’.

Children (in unison) – Who is your friend? Father

Man–Raises the bottle and keeps it in his head. He takes two glasses and pours some brown liquid into them. He gives it to his children who drink it with great difficulty. He drinks what is left in the bottle and starts singing a song

What does a poor man own in his life?
He is the proud owner of the tears of his wife
Hunger and disease are his brethren
There is no escape from this burden

The scene ends with the man and children sleeping. Woman enters looks at them and joins them in the sleep. (Fade out)

Narrator’s voice – Who is to blame for the condition of this family. Mother/Father/society or you. The answer is still to be found.

He came... He saw…and....He Conquered...

He came... He saw…
&
He conquered again….

(This is a work of fiction. It is an attempt to resurrect and reclaim something precious from my yesteryears. This is dedicated to Caesar and to all those who loved him.)

“Like many other Humans, they believed that they owned their dogs instead of realizing that their dogs owned them’
101 Dalmatians – Dodie smith

‘I’m a dog, and because you humans are less rational beasts than I, you are telling yourselves, ‘Dogs don’t talk’. Nevertheless, you seem to believe a story in which corpses speak and characters use words they couldn’t possibly know. Dogs do speak, but only to those who know how to listen’
My Name is Red – Orhan Pamuk

Caesar had a dream....

I, as usual dreamt about the place I had known all my life. The home and the environs were as fresh and charming as the days I had spent there. I was with Mummy walking in the garden. I followed her faithfully trying my best not to walk in front of her. I loved and respected her. It was indeed an act of joy to walk with her, to guard her against the possible threats that lurked somewhere in the garden. I could see the fresh soil near the hole that my old foe rodent had created near the compound wall. I tried putting my telescopic nose inside to assess the seriousness of the situation. ‘One day I will get you…’ I whispered to myself and moved quickly to the place where Mummy was pulling out some weeds from the garden lawn.

“It is getting tougher and tougher to keep this garden,” I heard her murmuring to herself. She was the only who loved the garden. I was used to this habit of Mummy because this was also the time for me to inspect the ground for ‘security risks’. I could see that after uttering those words she was moving towards the water tap. I knew that she for the next half-an- hour would be occupied in the act of watering her ‘darlings’. I made a final look at all the possible dangers zones in the garden and decided to check on my companion Chikku, whom I knew would be sleeping in one of the chairs in the living room. She was not a ‘companion’ in the real sense of the term. Daddy brought her thinking that she would be a ‘perfect buddy’ for me. However, time proved this thought wrong as most of the time she behaved in an erratic way. She used to urinate in places that were considered sacrosanct by the family members. I hated her for these acts of indecency. However, Chikku continued her acts without any sense of inhibition. Mummy, Daddy, Attan, and Cheriya Mon used to reprimand her and beat her for this one tendency. She never changed her inclinations and this rather surprised me. However, things never remained the same for her and I often wondered how the family members forgot all these and crowded around her to play with her. It used to irritate me when I see Cheriya Mon going around the house cradling her in his arms as if she was an Olympic trophy. I, but secretly has confessed to myself the fact that she was beautiful. She can melt anyone’s heart with her “cushion like face and pillow like belly”. She was beautiful and she was the only one who assisted me in my operations. Knowing the fact that she was the only one for me, I used to sympathize with her when the family members showered both physical and verbal abuses on her.

As I entered the living room, and I was not surprised to see her still sleeping in the chair as if the whole purpose of her life was to sleep. I disliked her for her ‘laziness’, ‘holier than thou attitude’, ‘lack of adventure spirit’ and many other things…

Caesar …Caesar …. Somebody was calling me. I thought that it was Mummy. Maybe she was in danger. My mind raced and my heart started beating faster. I quickly turned away from the ‘sleeping beauty’ and started running towards the garden. But my legs would not move. I felt as if the whole earth was covered in some kind of glue. I tried to reach Mummy. I heard myself whisper - ‘I am coming Mummy… I am coming ’

He opened his eyes and his sharp ears recognised the voice. It was coming from the small speakers kept in the corner of his room. It was morning and the Angel in Heaven was giving the wake-up call. He got up from his cozy bed and limbed towards the bathroom to start his day. He should get ready for the morning meditation where the Supreme Head - GOD - will address the entire population of Heaven. The thought that he had a dream of his earthly life made him happy. As he engaged himself in the morning routine of taking bath and brushing his teeth, his mind once again touched earth.

At home (Shelter), nobody forced me to do anything. I was always given what I wanted because they knew me and more than that, they loved me. Every morning Daddy was the first one to wake up to make tea for himself (He was the only who got that early in the family). I used to patiently wait for my share of dry bread, which was the breakfast. Chikku, had to be coaxed, and threatened to eat her share of the morning grub and most of the time she missed her breakfast. Because of this, I always got her share. After this first serving of food, I used to sneak inside the house to get some sleep. Peaceful and undisturbed sleep for hours together. The pleasure of this early morning sleep was sometimes enhanced when Mummy came and caressed me. She always started her day only after talking to me. Most of the time she talked about the day ahead. I used to slip into a deep slumber listening to her and enjoying the re-assuring presence of her touch. I do not really remember my mother. Sometimes I used to overhear them talk about my mother and my early days. It seems that I was born in a place called Kunamkulam and was brought here. Daddy was the one who chose me by tying a piece of thread around my neck. Oh, I am grateful to him for bringing me here. This place indeed was a shelter.

Sunlight, which came through the window, was something that broke his reverie and Caesar hurried to attend the morning meditation in the courtyard. He could see that the whole place were crowded with heaven mates. He slowly moved towards the front part so that he can really pay attention to GOD. All around him, his friends in heaven were busy talking about the comforts and other nice things about heaven. Some of them wished him in a very polite manner and he smiled back at them. Somehow, he was not feeling okay this morning. Maybe it was the dream. But deep inside him, the dream created a sense of inexplicable pleasure. It was soothing and filled him with new energy. The dream he had was so over-powering that he felt himself being pulled into that world. That was when, he started day dreaming…

I was sunbathing in the courtyard of my home-Shelter. A daily habit I enjoyed. Chikku never came out to enjoy the morning sun. She was an indoor being who preferred to sleep coiled up in the bed. It seems that her ancestors came from Germany a cold climate region. One day I overheard Daddy telling this to Mummy.Chikku’s father and mother are from this country and she was a pure-breed. I always believed that it was not the past that mattered but the present and the future directions.Eventhough it was a self-comforting belief I know that Chikku cannot be like me. Quite often, she fell ill and I could see the concerned look on Mummy’s face when she tried ‘every herb and medicine’ to bring her back to life. I have reminded Chikku quite often to come out and get the body exposed to the rejuvenating effects of the morning sun. I thoroughly enjoyed the act. When I feel that my body had enough of sun, I take pleasure in doing some exercises - twisting and writhing in the ground making some strange sounds. One day as I was doing this ‘acrobatics’, Mummy and Attan came out of the home and started laughing at me. Even though I felt irritated first, I enjoyed the attention that I was getting. I remember once that Mummy even gave me a coir mat to make this an interesting habit. OLD HABITS DIE-HARD. I was listening to the laughter of Attan and Mummy as they gazed at my strange antics. ..

He was lying on the ground and was twisting and turning much to the amazement and delight of the crowd that had gathered around him. He was suddenly aware of the fact that he was in Heaven and his actions were indeed strange to the people. He got up with a feeling of embarrassment.

The sudden appearance of the angel of heaven on the platform announcing the arrival of GOD saved him from further humiliation. As GOD arrived, the assembly became silent and waited eagerly to listen to his words. ‘My dear children’ he began his talk. Caesar always liked it when God addressed them as his children. He felt a close bonding with God. ‘It’s time for you to enjoy the life in heaven. God continued ‘‘you are the chosen one’s you are rewarded for all the nice things that you have done on earth. This is a dream come true situation for all of you. All those things that you did on earth are something that you should forget. Here we are, in heaven a place to relax and enjoy life. You are all blessed to be here. There is no enmity, no ill thoughts, and bad language here. Only happiness. Then God went on to describe the differences between Earth and Heaven

Earth Heaven
Ugly
Lovely
Emptiness
Fullness
Darkness
Brightness
Sorrow
Joy
Misunderstanding
Clarity
Evil
Divine
Sadness
Happiness
Hatred
Love
Alienation
Togetherness
Cruelty
Goodness
Nothingness
Abundance
Abnormal
Normal
Ennui
Hope
Insanity
Sane
Lethargic
Hardworking

When God said that they should forget everything about their earthly existence, Caesar felt sad.

It is impossible for him because he had already experienced Heaven on Earth.

I was in the kitchen. It was a Sunday. The family had just returned from the Church and I could see that all of them had plastic bags with them. They were getting ready for the Sunday lunch, something for which I eagerly waited for. The aroma of my favourite delicacies filled the air- fish and mutton. I was as usual squatted on the ground in a corner without disturbing the flow of the activities in the kitchen. However, my presence sometimes irritated Cheriya Mon who always cursed me in angry tone. He somehow didn’t like me loitering in the kitchen. He had his own strange and whacky logic about the whole thing, which I never tried to value. I was aware of the fact that as long as I did my duties given to me I will be liked, appreciated, and welcomed. After all, I am better than that horrible beauty Chikku who thought that she was born to sleep and pee in all the wrong places. Mummy knew this fact and Daddy supported me. Lunch as expected was a treat and once again admired the culinary skills of Mummy. I walked towards the bedroom where I am assured of a place to sleep. I soon dozed off and I had a dream - I dreamt about my mother.

The loud sound of a thundering applause made Caesar open his eyes. God had just finished his speech and he was leaving the podium. They all stood up again to pay their respect. The crowd slowly started moving towards the dining hall to have their lunch. He didn’t feel like going along with them. He went back to his room. It was while walking towards his room that the idea struck him. He wanted to go back to Earth and he is going to tell God about his plan. He knew it was difficult to get an appointment with GOD because he was the God. Anyway, he decided to try.

He moved towards the gates of the Garden of Heaven. This is the place where GOD spent most of his time talking and relating with his Creations. Caesar saw the Angel of Heaven trying his best to maintain the decorum of the place. He got the permission and entered the Garden. As he walked through the long winding road, he could see his Heaven mates frolicking in the sun. He saw the lion and the lioness, the cat family and a group of snakes. On Earth, the very sight of a snake made him run for its neck. Surprisingly, he never felt that urge here in Heaven.

It was a rainy day. I was out in the garden to urinate. That’s when I saw something shiny and scaly moving under the mango tree. I felt my heart racing and more blood started pumping into my veins. I moved towards the target, which was moving away from my line of sight. I could see the tail of the thing disappearing into the thick undergrowth. The noise of my barking seemed to terrify the thing. It showed no signs of urgency or fear. I moved towards it. The sound of my breath was sharp in my years and I got the smell of a prey. My agile body slipped into the undergrowth and my eyes started searching for the target. Raindrops created a rhythmic sound as they hit the leaves of the mango tree. I moved slowly without attracting much attention from my enemy. With calculated steps I was about to pounce on the target, when it made a quick dash towards the hole near the compound wall. My nose almost felt the scaly skin of the thing before it disappeared totally into the muddy gap. I was angry and disappointed. I cursed myself for that mistake. I decided that I will wait near the wall to give my foe a chance to reappear. I waited and waited in anticipation….

Caesar was waiting in the queue to meet GOD. After sometime he was ushered in. GOD looked resplendent in his white robe. Caesar smiled at him and bowed down in respect.


Conversation with GOD

‘Yes, my child what brings you here?’ – asked GOD

‘Father I am not able to sleep these days’. ‘Something is disturbing me.’ ‘I am not getting proper sleep and I dream a lot’ – replied Caesar

‘I am surprised you should never forget the fact that you are in heaven’. ‘This place is for restful souls and happy living’. ‘Anyway I don’t think that I can find a solution for your problems’. ‘If you can experience the pain then you should be the one who should find the cure’. ‘Why don’t you spend some time thinking about it?

‘I have tried that father’. ‘My mind is not stable’. ‘It often carries me to earth where I had spent a lovely time with a family’. ‘I am not able to forget them’.

God thought for a minute, after which he said ‘I can understand your problem’ ‘I appreciate that fact that you were able to understand the root cause of the pain’ ‘Now tell me what I should do to help you out’

‘Father I wish to go back to the earth to continue my Earthly life’

God looked at Caesar and said with a smile – ‘That’s indeed a strange cure for your pain’. ‘Very strange’

‘Father I know that, but I am helpless’ ‘Please help me’ Caesar felt the tears rolling down his eyes

God took him in his hands and held him close trying to calm him ‘Oh, my child, please don’t cry’

After sometime GOD said ‘I will allow you to return to Earth but on one condition – you can never go back as a dog you will have to become a cat to continue your life on Earth’ Caesar was happy for fraction of a second but when he heard the word cat he was on his guard.
‘This is the only cure I can find for your pain’. Saying so, GOD kept him on the ground and started moving away from him ‘Think about this and let me know your decision’

Caesar started walking back to his room. The words of GOD fresh and reverberating in his mind. He decided to go to his room and take some rest. As he was walking, he realized that he was having some difficulty in breathing. He started walking slowly and allowed himself to regain the composure. A cool breeze from some where came and caressed his body. He felt better and decided to lie down and think about it as soon as he reached his room. The bed looked inviting and he lost no time in stretching himself on it.

Caesar had a nightmare....

I was taking rest after my lunch. These days ‘the eye of heaven’ shined very brightly and therefore I preferred to spend my daytime indoors. The marble floor was very comfortable I stretched my body on the cool floor and let my body enjoy the coolness. I immensely enjoyed this act of cooling even though I never slept. I was in semi-conscious state. Suddenly my ears, which Cheriya Mon described as ‘fleshy satellites’ picked up a sound which alerted my brain. It was a soft sound which came from the backyard. I jumped up from my resting place spot and rushed towards the source of that noise. There it was.... a cat. Like Humpty Dumpty, he was sitting on the compound wall, licking his body. I barked and started moving towards the wall. The ear-piercing noise of my woof-woof made mummy come out of the house. My target now showed signs of retreating. His action infuriated me further and I was about to jump at him. Before I could do that, he disappeared as quietly as he had come. I stayed there for sometime because I could still smell him with my telescopic nose. When I was sure that, he had moved away, I started walking towards the house in search of some cool spot. Mummy was staring at me. As I entered the house in search, she said “Poor creature! That CAT came in to eat the leftovers of your lunch”. You are very cruel Caesar “. Why don’t you allow that poor thing to eat something”?

I heard what she said but was in no mood to listen to her. She will never know ‘the tale as old as time’ about the animosity between a DOG and a CAT. We hate each other and we do not tolerate the presence of the other. As I was moving through the house, a thought occurred to me because of which I came back to my lunch or whatever was left over of it finished it in a gulp. After performing this act of cruelty, I felt better and I returned to my resting spot. The smooth surface of the marble laid floor once again embraced me in its coolness and a cold blooded thought ran through my brain – cats – I will kill every one of you. I hate you – the improper creations of GOD.

Caesar opened his eyes and immediately recognised the inner battle that was going on in his mind. He heard the noises of hatred and the voice of love colliding in his mind. He got up from his bed and started walking up and down in his room trying to regain his mental composure. He earnestly desired for the noises and voices to die out, but they never did.

Noise of hatred, enmity, animosity, hostility, antagonism, bitterness, dislike, resentment, anger, rage…

‘Hey Caesar’! ‘Hope you are not a fool to take cues from your dreams they are just dreams, meaning nothing…’ ‘Can you imagine living as a cat in that house?’ ‘You will be powerless and weak’. ‘A state of existence where your terrifying woof-woof will be reduced to a soft meow… meow...’ ‘If I was in your situation I will be happy to continue living in Heaven as a DOG superior and commanding attention and respect’.

Voice of love ….

‘Dear Caesar heaven is indeed is a place for you to dream about your earthly life’. ‘You have been thinking a lot about the family – Mummy, Daddy, Attan and Cheriya Mon. ‘Your love thoughts took the form and shape of a dream’ ‘You are indeed in love with them’. Can you ever forget the smiles, laughter and the tears of joy that animated your earthly life?’ ‘I will tell you to return to that state of existence irrespective of the form you take. Cats after all are not creatures that you should hate’ ‘They are just like dogs, co-existing with the humans trying to solve the difficult equations of life by giving them company and companionship’. ‘So please go home…’ ‘That’s your shelter’. ‘Please go…’

Caesar realized suddenly that noise and voices have left him. A soothing silence filled his mind. He now could see a solution to his problem. He decided to meet GOD the next day and tell him about his decision to go back to earth in the form and shape of a cat. After supper, he crawled into his bed and started sleeping. He had a dreamless sleep that night.


Glossary of the Local Culture:

Mummy - (Indian English) Equivalent for Mom or Mama
Telescopic nose - (Caesar and Chikku belonged to the family of Dachshund)
Chikku – Caesar’s better – half queen.
Daddy - (Indian English) Equivalent for Dad or Pop
Attan – Malayalam word for elder brother (Malayalam is the official language of Kerala, a state in Southern India.
Cheriya Mon - Malayalam word which means (Cheriya) small (Mon) son
Kunamkulam - Ancestral land of our family situated near Thrissur, the cultural capital of Kerala.



21-02-2006
Premjith Mathew
Chennai

A short play based Marcel Junod's essay - The First Atom Bomb

Where are we?
A short theatrical presentation based on
The First Atom Bomb by Marcel Junod

Marcel Junod faces the audience with a paper and a pen.
I am a journalist by profession I believe that writing is an act meant for social change. I am on mission today to get some details about Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I am shocked to hear that two cities are destroyed beyond recognition. I need to find an answer to this question. Human beings create, innovate, and invent only to destroy all that they have constructed. I have this curious mind to know about the plight of people and their possessions in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

(Shouting) I JUST WANT TO KNOW.
Japanese speaks
(In a proud voice) My country is in northeast Asia, occupying a group of islands. The national name of My country is Nippon .My country is rich in coal, iron, zinc, copper, natural gas, and fish. Our Major industries include motor vehicles, steel, machinery, electrical and electronic equipment, chemicals, and textiles. My country export motor vehicles (Suzuki, Mitsubishi, Toyota), electronic goods (Sony,) and components, chemicals, iron and steel products, scientific and optical equipment.
The qualities that have shaped and are shaping My country are

§ The belief that respecting others is the essence of life.
§ Eye for the detail – we work towards perfection
§ Hard working society

American wireless operator: Hey, I think I got something for you sir we had broadcasted a great deal about the preparations made for the use of the new weapon and about its extraordinary power. The information concerning the effects of atomic bombardment was limited to the horrible prophecy; ‘for seventy years at least the radio-activity of the earth around the scene of the explosion will prevent all forms of life from existing there’ (American journalist, Tokyo newspaper journalist and report of Nohara, a half-Japanese follows)

I am right now standing in front of the Yokohama Camber of Commerce.
Marcel Junod is seen approaching a group of men who seems to be huddled over a table.
§ I am General Fitch and I am in charge of censoring all the news reports that is based on Hiroshima.
§ Let me introduce to you as Colonel Marcus. I am waiting for my prisoners and I am gonna treat them like animals.
§ Me, Colonel Webster. Along with my team of medics let me save some lives. If there are any…

Marcel Junod:
The day has been long and I am too tired to speak. I have seen destruction all around me. Now I should sit and write my article so that the world will remember Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Thank you ladies and gentleman.

Dealing with disaster - my article in 'The Hindu'

Dealing with disaster
Although disasters rarely strike us on a day-to-day basis as and when they occur, rather than feeling overwhelmed, we must emotionally and mentally be prepared to tackle them. In the midst of a disaster it is quite human to be stumped, but we need to put it behind deal with it rationally.
Whether a disaster is natural - quake, cyclone, drought, volcanic eruptions - or manmade - accidents, attacks, failures - and whether it happens at the personal, national or international level we require a strategy to make it acceptable.
First make a study of how The Hindu has tackled stories of drought, floods and also the September 11 bombing of the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon.
Activities:
1. Conceptual clarification: Read through the articles which deal with disaster/crisis management to familiarise yourself with the steps involved in countering disaster effectively.
2. Field Trip: Visit a Fire-Service Station to get to know their strategies and how they manage fire-related disaster.
3. Application Task: In India, strangely, disasters recur every year in the form of drought or floods. But, we are yet to come to grips with the means of managing them with minimal casualties. The most bizarre thing like, not distributing the relief materials to victims but letting them rot is also a common occurence in our country.
Suggest measures to enable the people involved and the bureaucracy to manage them effectively.
4. Tracking developing stories: As the U.S. is still in the process of tackling the disaster keep collecting relevant materials and file them or paste them in your scrap book till it reaches the finale. This could serve as a paradigm to handle such disasters in future.
5. Profiling: Identify some of the most dreaded terrorists' organisations operating in different parts of the world which are responsible for causing disasters and profile them. Also, identity the ways and means to counter the terrorists forces.
6. A pledge: As India has celebrated September 18, as "Solidarity Day against Terrorism" write out a pledge which every world citizen should take to prevail peace on the earth.
Disaster management is a life skill which everyone should develop to face
disasters squarely.
K. ELANGO AND PREMJITH MATHEW,
Department of English, Loyola College, Chennai.

BEAUTY IN THE BEAST

Tale as old as time….
True as it can be…
Song as old as rhyme ….
Beauty and the Beast….
(OST-Celine Dion/Terry Bradford-The Beauty and the Beast)

(This piece of writing is based on a true wildlife moment that happened in the campus of Madras Christian College. Setting was behind the college cafeteria. Time is an afternoon. On that destined day, I saw a strange thing. A deer and a pig were together, walking through the forest-scapes of Madras Christian College. As I walked back to my room in Bishop Heber Hall, I realised the fact that I actually had witnessed a vision. With a great sense of gratitude and love, I dedicate this article to those creations of the creator.)

Sitting in my room at Bishop Heber Hall, I made the following observations.

The scene involving the pig and the deer made me think about the beautiful and beastly world in which we live in. This dichotomy is also present in the ‘two legged creations’ known as human beings. For me the scene involving the pig and deer represent the essential division that is often expressed as;

Light X Darkness
Male X Female
White X Black
Amateur X Professional
Head X Heart
Beginning X End
Yin X Yang
As a continuation to the same train of thought, I started painting a true and honest portrait of the pig in my mind. My heart and sympathies is with that animal, the little cherubin, which had enjoyed a romantic status in the movie- ‘Babe, Pig in the City’.

(The two statements mentioned above are the significant signposts to understand the forthcoming paragraphs.)

An attempt is made here to show the reader that, there exists an element of beauty in all the (so-called) beastly figures. Drawing examples from literature and cinema, I will convince you – READER- that there exist two identities in all of us. Whether you like it or not, you are helpless before this trick of the creator.

This is how it all got started…

The story of Beauty and the Beast has been around for centuries in both oral and written literatures, and more recently, in film and video. Right from the beginning, this multiple layered fairy tale (or parable or myth) seems to have mesmerized image makers and word makers alike. The beast has always been perceived as an evil figure. The beauty creates a new mindscape in the beast, which is necessarily one of love and compassion. The beauty and the love she brings alter the beastly mental frame work.

The story of Beauty and the Beast appears in many cultures in different forms. Whatever be the context the essence of the story remains the same. If we summarize the story of beauty and the beast in a line it will read like this – a transformation takes place in the beast in the charismatic presence of the beauty.





BEAUTY IN THE BEAST AND THE LITERARYSCAPE

Literature and its wordscape are embedded with characters that are nothing but the extension of the beauty and beast myth. This is an apparent point of investigation for the archetypal critics. (Non-literary readers please examine the life and times of Northrop Frye)

There are traces of this myth in the novel of Victor Hugo’s known as The Hunchback of Notre Dame. The story revolves around the bell ringer of the church of Notre Dame, Quasimodo. For though he is gentle and kind, it was Quasimodo's crime to have been born hideously deformed. But one day his heart would prove to be a thing of rare beauty. This is when he falls in love with a gypsy girl named Esmeralda. The height of sacrifice that Quasimodo makes to protect this girl reveals the beauty within the so called deformed character of Victor Hugo’s.

The tale of the Selfish Giant by Oscar Wilde tells us about the Giant who owned a beautiful garden. He was so obsessed with it he once shouted at the children who came to play there-"My own garden is my own garden," said the Giant; "any one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself’(The Beast in him speaks). Thus the author apart form justifying the title of ‘his story’, also shows us how cruel and beastly the Giant is. Anyway, the transformation happens to the Giant when he realises that children brought happiness and beauty into his life. ‘And the Giant's heart melted as he looked out. "How selfish I have been!" he said; "now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children's playground for ever and ever." He was really very sorry for what he had done’ (The latent Beauty in him manifests itself).

One of the ‘one book wonders’ Harper Lee, in her novel ‘To Kill a Mocking Bird’ presents the character of Boo Radley through the eyes of child narrator named Scout Finch. In the beginning of the story, Scout and her brother Jem, fabricate horror stories about Boo. They find Boo as a character of their amusement, and one who had no feelings whatsoever. They initially tried to get a glimpse of him, just to see what Boo looked like. At first, they thought Boo Radley was ‘EVIL’. There were rumours that while he cut out the newspaper for his scrapbook he "drove the scissors into his parent's leg.” They described him often as a monster "six-and-a-half feet tall" with "bloodstained" hands. It was reported that he ate to eat "raw squirrels and any cats he could catch.” (pg 12).Towards the end of the novel Scout discovers (along with the reader) that Boo Radley was always trying to reach out to them and he was not as beastial as others thought him to be. The novel ends with Scout walking with Boo headed for his home thus becoming an agent in the complete transformation of Boo Radley.The question that Boo radley would have probably have asked is,

Did I request thee, maker, from my clay
To mould me man, did I solicit thee
From darkness to promote me?

(Paradise Lost, X, 743-45)

Frankenstein is another character worth examining keeping in mind the duality of the beauty and beast. Critics have commented on the central duality that exists in the novel by Mary Shelley i.e. .the monster and the creator are the anti-thetical halves of a single being. Harold Bloom in his Afterword to the novel has remarked ‘Frankenstein and his monster are the solipsistic and generous halves of the one self ’.A deeper analyses of the novel will show that the creature created by Frankenstein , like Boo Radley desperately tries to reach out into the ordinary world searching for ‘that four lettered word’ called-LOVE. “Sometimes I tried to imitate the pleasant songs of the birds but was unable. Sometimes I wished to express my sensations in my own mode, but the uncouth and inarticulate sounds, which broke from me, frightened me into silence again” (99).Thus, Frankenstein is condemned to suffer because he never got a chance to express his inner beauty to the world outside.

The world of word makers has many such examples. Character of Caliban in the Shakespearean masterpiece-‘The Tempest, Lennie in John Steinbeck’s ‘Of Mice and Men’, Velutha in Arundhanthi Roy’s ‘The God of Small Things’,‘ The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde’ by Robert Louis Stevenson are some of the characters who possess the duality of the beauty and the beast.

BEAUTY IN THE BEAST AND THE IMAGESCAPE.

The beauty and the beast image that I discovered in the deer and the pig led me to examine the matrix of the profane and the sublime in the world of images. One movie worth mentioning in this context is Bala’s magnum opus Pitamagan. The film is harsh, gruesome. The story of Chithan, an undertaker who grew up in cremation grounds seems to be tragic. It is a character modelled on the early man who was cut off from civilisation. He walks with a hunch, he grunts, he makes noises like animals. He is one who grew up in the graveyard and is a monotonously morose person who does not talk or break into a song. The body language and animal grunts underlines his inherent bestiality. Chittan is a dreadful person. However, at the same time he is blessed with an unusual energy through which he can single-handedly thrash a dozen men. It is only through his friendship with Sakthivel that he discovers the beauty of life. His subtle but restrained love for Gomathi (drug peddler) makes him all the more beautiful.

The story of Vinod in the movie Kadhal Konden is again a fine example to illustrate the fact that there is a beast and beauty residing in each one of us. Dhanush plays Vinod, a college fresher, a genius in some ways, but whose strange behaviour and habits make him an object of ridicule for the rest of the class. However, the sympathetic Divya takes him under her wings, and attempts to transform him into a socially accepted person. However, she had not reckoned with the dark side of him, which surfaces, when she confesses to him her love for classmate Aathi. Battling with the demons inside him, Vinod takes her on a journey that is fascinating, chilling, and nightmarish.

The world of cinema, too, contains umpteen illustrations to show that the image-makers were busy dealing with the binary opposites. The Hitchcockian character Norman Bates in the movie Psycho with his schizophrenic moorings is a classic example of this ‘’two in one identity’. Noted filmmaker, actor, director Kamalhasan has experimented with the theme of beauty in the beast in three movies- Guna, Aalavaddan and Anbe Sivam.

(The world of art is replete with characters and images that reflect the essential but subtle dichotomy that I happen to witness in the deep woods of Madras Christian College. The reason behind this scribbling is to show the world that there is a need to resolve this binary opposition and understand things in a larger context so that we can live in this world of beast and beauty identities , which exists is each one of us.).