Sunday, 11 October 2015

#1 Why?

“Why do you dislike meeting new people?”

Of course I don’t dislike meeting new people. I dislike the idea of adding more people to my life for reasons very simple. People always complain about not having enough time. And this complaint is argued against by the concepts of ‘effective time management’ and ‘proper planning’. Time is always there for people who make the effort or so they say. But really now, let’s sit down and think about it rationally. Is there really enough time for everything we have to do and everyone we wish to be with? I mean, sure – we do waste a lot of time each day but who would want to live a life without some breathing room. A life where everything is so meticulously planned out and live out to an almost obsessive tendency for perfection. A life without the surprises of life. A life devoid of the little joys and tiny bumps that life offers us – each an opportunity to mold our very spirit. Different flames breathing down on our white flame spirit, each trying to leave a mark in its own way.
Coming back – we have so many people in our lives already. And getting to know a person – in and out, through and through – is no simple task. People have a tendency to throw curve balls at you and every turning and crossing. Just when you think you’ve figured them out, they surprise you in the most strangest of ways – by doing something you wouldn’t think they would, trying something they were afraid of, failing to uphold their principles in the rotten society that exists today….. The list goes on. People don’t stop. Life doesn’t stop. In some ways everyone has to admit that it is indeed a marathon. A never-ending one with no beginning or end. Only a middle. Each leg of the race can change both you and the people you already know either to a large degree or minimally. But change remains the one and only constant in life. Not people. Change. The change in people. The change in our surroundings. And most importantly, the changes within you. Each day is a fresh one, each time you talk to someone you know – a new experience. It’s never the same. Not if you pay attention. As the clock ticks life away, principles change, outlooks change, and character changes – for better or for worse.


With all these things already going on in one’s life – with way too many people to make connections with – with a myriad of complexities to solve – with questions with no answers and answers with no questions – with doubts, fear, and regret – why would any rational being want to add fuel to the fire? Why would you willfully cut down what little time you have to sort out what is already present? Is that not just another way of running away? By forgetting that which we held dear to move onto the unknown, as a twisted sense of temporary relief emerges. Of course, the cycle repeats. Eventually the ‘new’ of today become the ‘old’ of tomorrow and ‘life’ – if you can call it that – continues like usual.

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

An Ode to Kozhikode


I’ve been told time and time again that a city is an emotion; each city has its own flavor and love not seen anywhere else. I grudgingly accepted this whenever anyone praised their native place. But I always maintain my city is the best, and those who doubt so are ignorant. It is only when I moved to Kochi, I realized how much I love Kozhikode- The Cities lights, winding roads and Paragon! What I miss most was obviously, home. But home was Kozhikode.  The city is an emotion, a feeling that can (and still) warm(s) your heart. You get the feeling whenever someone speaks in the Kozhikodden accent. It warms your heart, to know someone from your town in a land not yours.  I even miss SM Street, the crowded and bustling place I hate, but nonetheless go to. The longing does make the heart grow fonder. A friend from Kochi never cared what I thought about his city, he always maintained that he was from Trivandrum. So he maintained till he got a college outside Kochi.   “Kochi’s the best” he says now. He can say what he wants, Kozhikode is the real place to be.

Whenever I come back from Kochi on the Jan shatabdhi, going home I see the same scenes; the Crown, the dying sounds of people at city bus station, the half- closed Paragon hotel, the dimming lights in Nadakavvu, and the ever shining Barracks. I get enveloped in a feeling of happiness even as I write this! But as muchmuch as  I love this City, I may have no right to call it my own- I was not born here, and neither my parents nor forefathers. We’re immigrants to the City of Truth. I came here when I was 2 years old, and stayed till the age of 15, when I left for Kochi. 13 years in the city. 13 years. 2 schools. Innumerable memories. A place has never meant so much to me, maybe it is because I have no identity, no place to call my own, like millions of middle class Indian children.  For long I had the Identity crisis, till she accepted me with no qualms two years ago. She became my Identity, a place I’m proud to be from; neither big nor small. Neither a metropolis nor a small town. A city of love. A city of truth. A city of food.

Talking about food, we invariably come to the Halwa. When Kozhikode became part of my identity, “Kozhikodden Halwa” was what everyone wanted. Personally, I have no liking to the halwa. But when you realize how bad the Halwa outside is, it tastes like heaven. Still I don’t like it that much. “Kozhikodden Chips” is also famous, but I never knew why till I bought a bag of chips from Kochi. (Never have I despised chips. Arghh!) The flower in your own garden never smells good1. Except for Paragon, of course. You know they’re good wherever they are. Some even went on to say you’ll get better “Mallu food” from Bombay than they do from Kochi. Keep in mind the only experience they had with “Mallu food” is the hostel ‘Puttu’. Ah, well. One day I hope I take them to Paragon and show them who's boss.

The city never sleeps. Many know this2, but a friend (who obviously is ignorant to everything but her own city) disputed it. “Of course it sleeps”, she said. Well, come over, and see for yourself. (Big-Town people, eh!).

But in the end, it’s only because some guy in KSEB decided to give my Amma a transfer to Kozhikode that I speak highly of this city. For all you know, if things were different, I’d be writing this about Kochi. No hate to Kochi, btw. I only hate the Traffic Blocks. And the Mosquitoes. (I’m not even mentioning the Autos!)

Note 1: Malayalam saying, English Equivalent would be “The Grass is greener on the other side”.

Note 2: I’m not going on a rant and not claiming all know this, but everyone from Kozhikode (and is not afraid of the night) obviously knows this.
(Special Thanks to Rose Joy for the Editing)