Sanskritic Casteism

The news of a Muslim professor being barred from teaching Sanskrit at BHU and now the attack on a Dalit professor who supported his colleague brought back the memories(somewhat blurred) of a legend in my family told by my maternal grandmother.

This was the early 20th century. There was a Kannada Brahmin run Sanskrit school in Kasaragod(now part of Kerala). They had a requirement for a Sanskrit teacher. The school was government aided(Madras Presidency) and hence the district collector had some say in the recruitment. One of the applicants was my grandmother’s uncle. 

The collector at that time was a Malayali Muslim(probably a Beary). He forwarded my great-great uncle’s name. He supposed to have commented, “Why would it be always them? There should be one of us too”. Thus this g-g-uncle became a teacher there.

Once there was Saraswati Pooje in the school. The casteism was still strong in many spheres and religious functions were one of them. One of the students of my g-g-uncle came from a caste which was not allowed to be part of these functions. Now, the Malayali caste system was more complicated than it was in other parts of India. The non-Brahmins treaded Savarna-Avarna lines at different levels(or steps) without clear demarcation.

The priests ordered that boy to stand outside the class while the pooje was being performed. My g-g-uncle protested it. They didn’t budge. Then he also went out along with the boy saying, “If my student doesn’t have a space in the function then there is no place for me too”.

Tasting customer

[Hawker]: These oranges are good. Ten for fifty rupees. Please taste this. It's sweet and fresh.
[Peels off an orange and gives me a slice(?). It's bitter or sour or whatever but not at all sweet]
[Hawker]: Shall I pack you some?
[I]: Okay.

Beyond Humility

[She] : Excuse me, where is ...?
[I]: It's not in this lane, maybe you should try the lane parallel to this.
[She]: But I was told it's somewhere here
[I]: Hmm... this one is ... and that one is ... I guess you need to check the parallel lane
[She]: So, you are not sure
[I]: I mean it's not in this lane but yes, I'm not sure...
[She]: Okay, I'll ask the shopkeeper then
[I]: Sure
[She]: Thank you
[I]: Uh...No problem
[I parked the car and while getting down saw her walking towards the parallel lane]
[I went inside the house and after some time I came out to buy something from the shop across the road]
[I found her returning to the same lane and again checking the buildings around and talking over the phone]
[Shall I?]
[One can buy this thing for as cheap as Rs. 5000  and provides so much independence so, why wouldn't she buy one?]
[I]: Excuse me ...
[She] Yes ...[over the phone] Just a minute, I'll get back to you
[I]: It says you have to go straight in this lane, cross the junction and at the T-junction ahead, it's on your left

Waking up to tomorrow

Both my daughter and niece (about the same age) haven't grasped the concept of tomorrow. Interestingly, both explain it as 'after I sleep and getup'.

I suppose both have grasped the concept but were not able to map it to the term 'tomorrow'. 

Mango Connoisseur

At a supermarket you find mangoes that you want to taste. You go to the stall and find a fellow buyer smelling some of them but leave without taking any. Then you see a bald headed man coming to your direction. You pick a mango and start smelling it. He comes and smells some of them and looks at you and says with a smile, "Not going to be tasty. Are they?". You say, "Yeah, Yeah". He leaves and then a couple descend upon the place and they start smelling but don't pick any and leave. You continue with your smelling façade all through it. And then when you are alone, you quietly pick few of them and leave.

Explaining Death

Last night my daughter asked me about death. She was wondering why she had never seen 'ajja' , my father. I explained he wasn't feeling well, his body functions stopped, he stopped breathing, went into a never waking sleep. Not sure how much she understood.

Convention

The other day, my daughter had dictation of numbers. She wrote eight out of twenty, that were given, in reverse. She used to do it once in a while but not to that extent. I went through the articles online dealing with this and few of them mentioned that children's ability to distinguish between left and right wasn't developed fully until they were five to six years old.

That took me to the conversation I had with my four year old few days ago. She asked me to confirm her left and right hand (even though  she's generally correct with these two directions). I showed her. She wanted to know who told me that or how I knew that. I said it was a 'convention'. Our conversation was in Kasaragod Malayalam and all of a sudden I had to use an English term which she had no idea. She just repeated my word and kept quiet. I had no idea how to explain the term 'convention' in Malayalam and let it pass.

Here comes my limitation with the language. I made a point to talk to her in Malayalam even though my grasp over the language was only passable. My intention was to gradually switch over to English which I thought wouldn't be possible if I were to speak to her in Kannada, which I speak with mother-tongue fluency, from the beginning. Also, exposure to multiple languages from childhood hasn't given me any kind of advantage and on the contrary I always felt I lacked the proficiency in any single language because of it. There could be other reasons for my lack of complete grasp in any single language but I didn't want to take any chance with this respect too.

It seems children imitate their fathers' speech until they are four years old. I suppose it was something to do with limited vocabulary and simple sentences that males use as compared to females. I'm not sure whether that was a credible study or not but  I read it in the National Geographic's Geo magazine. Nevertheless, I'm afraid that's more or less true in my family as my daughter's fluency in the language appears to match mine and not my wife's who is a native speaker of the language.

Oblivious Realization - 2

It has been nearly five years since I wrote about them. The father, the mother, and the daughter who spoke Kannada. Their regular presence on the street next to my house has been my regular observational ritual. It's as if nothing has changed in the last ten  years. However, in the last few months I didn't see them for very long. I thought it's strange since they were like people who would disappear from that locality only upon their death. Their presence has made my presence on that street ancient. I wondered if one of them would be permanently missing when I see them next time. The other day, I saw only the mother and daughter(as I'd identified them). But nowadays I don't see them regularly. Will I again become new to that street as they fade away?

Preemptive tactics

[My daughter and I were at a shop]

[Conversation in Kasaragod Malayalam]

[Daughter]: I want that. [pointing to a chocolate pack]

[I]: No, you had them already. 

[Daughter]: I want that.

[I]: No, no more demands. 

[Daughter]: I want that.

[I]: No, I won't bring you along for shopping anymore. 

[Daughter]: I want that.

[I to the shop keeper]: How much for it?

[Another father-daughter pair were standing next to me]

[Their conversation in Kannada]

[Father]: Do you want that too?

[Daughter]: No. 

[F]: I'll buy it for you. 

[D]: No, I don't want that. 

[me thinking ... Need to employ this]

My Grandfather's Wonder Years

Before my memory gets blurred...

"I was 16 or 17 years old and the year was 1943 when I ran away from home. I went to Cannanore(Kannur). I was wandering the streets of the town and came across a handloom building. I was standing in front of it when one of the weavers there asked where I was from. Mangalore, I told him. 

"Did you run away from home"

"No, I came looking for a job. I know weaving."

"Which illam(lineage, literally house)?"

"Anjari"

"Go to that corner cloth shop. The owner also belongs to your illam. Talk to him".

I met that person. He arranged for my stay and found a job for me in one of the handlooms in the town. Later I came to know that Maava (maternal uncle) had started looking for me and somebody from Cannanore informed him that I was working there. He left it at there. 

Few weeks passed and one day I found some kind of training going on in a near by area. I inquired with my benefactor and he told that it was an army recruitment drive and not a place for a person like me and also warned that I shouldn't go there. Of course, I went. I cleared the tests and when they were checking I turned out to be underage. The British Indian army was desperately seeking men as World War II was going on. The officer there added one or two years and said that that wouldn't matter and because of the big built I didn't look so young anyway.

Thus began my life as a soldier. We were given training for few months. I wasn't much of a marksman. However, I did well in other areas. I took to the disciplined life like fish to water. I suppose, I was mortally ashamed of punishment. There used to be an inspection of our sleeping areas after we were called up for the drill. If someone's clothes or bed weren't made up properly then the whole platoon was given punishment. I didn't want punishment. So, I would leave the room after everyone had left ensuring that the people had done their bed and clothes properly. If not, I myself would arrange them neatly. 

Not a crease here or there, that's how I kept my uniform. My dressing was immaculate and my drill was perfect and soon I came to the attention of my superiors. I was selected to participate in the guard of honour for the visiting king George VI or some bigwig. During the practice sessions, one of the officers observed that inner sides of my boots were losing their shine and wearing out. I was told my two side foot knots were brushing against each other because of the flat feet. I was removed from the contingent.

After the training I became army truck driver. Once I was stationed in Rawalpindi. It was winter.  One day we didn't have water for taking bath in our cantonment. I never missed my daily bath till that time and was determined to take bath that day too.  So I went to the river Swan. But I literally froze when I touched the water. I had to accept my defeat and skip my bath.

I never had the courage to fight all alone. But give me a buddy and I would be one of the bravest and ready to fight from the top of the Himalayas. While fighting the war, I was hardly intimidated. The truck would reach its destination unmindful of the happenings in all four directions. A funny thing about war was how disciplined it made men. The training war drills would never go right but during war they would never go wrong! 

I saw most of the action in Burma. In fact, we were fighting against the combined troupe of the Japanese army and Subhash Chandra Bose's INA. We took many Japanese prisoners. They were assigned some jobs during their captivity. Once I was taking the truck in the reverse gear to park. I heard somebody screaming in pain. I was scared that I hit somebody and looked back. I saw few Japanese laughing hysterically. I asked what had happened. One of them pointed to something behind my truck and made a gesture of hanging little finger. I went there and saw that one of the Japanese soldiers' little finger was crushed between the truck and the wall.I was mortified by seeing that. I got him first aid and made sure that he got some rest. 

All this while my folks back home were trying to find me. But I myself wrote a letter about joining the army. They were totally against it and started trying to convince me to leave the army. I wasn't sure. But once the war got over, I asked the officers to relieve me. Since we just got over a war they were lenient with such requests. But one of the officers who had good opinion about me tried to convince me to stay in the army. He even offered the post of Subedar to me. It was a great offer considering that I had completed only fourth standard. But I declined. 

The last month in the army, I gave a rest to my disciplined life and indulged in my favourite hobby, eating. Since I was anyway leaving the army the officers didn't castigate me. By the time I came home my girth had doubled."

... Stereotype

[On board of a bus travelling to Hyderabad from Bengaluru. The person sitting next to me strikes up a conversation.]
:
[He] I don't know why, but so many people have mistaken me for a Brahmin.
[I smile but don't say anything]
[He] It has happened many a time. They say, I look like a Brahmin.
[I just nod my head]
[He] I mean I'm a Hyderabadi Muslim and I wonder how people can take me for a Brahmin.
:

A Known Unknown

I knew him for over a decade now as we joined the company just few months apart. But apart from occasional smile, reciprocated or otherwise, we hardly communicated.He appeared to be a reticent person and I don't know how I came across. So it was a surprise when he joined me in my customary solitary lunch. Did he discover suddenly something in common as both of us ordered the chicken biryani?

We confirmed our respective departments. We understood our immediate organizational structure. All the while I kept on wondering if there was a reason for him to strike a conversation with me. Then we moved on to the recent organizational changes in my group. Because of it, one of our colleagues, who also joined along with us, was no longer with the company. He asked me whether he was laid off. I didn't have a definite information on that and so I was uncomfortable answering that. I gave some kind of ambiguous answer. Then he talked about our another colleague who I knew no longer with the company. He told he was laid off. I asked him whether he found a new job. He was not sure. Losing the job at this age and that too in our field was tough he said. I agreed. Could be for managers and not for regular employees, I tried to bring some hope. Could be he said but didn't sound convinced.

By this time I had finished eating. He looked at my plate and said apologetically that he was a slow eater. "Take your own time", I said. I hadn't used that familiar line for a long time now. I observed that he had finished off his chicken pieces and having only the rice now. I thought that was a strange way of eating as I would have made sure to finish off the last morsel of the rice and the chicken together. So, I was expecting him to leave some portion of the rice over in the plate but he continued eating and finished it off as well. Then we departed with a not so common "nice talking to you" line. I don't believe it's going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Triumph of Humility

[Two people on a motorcycle and I was walking]
[He] : Deccan Hospital?
[I]: aa..aa...aa..
[Shall I take it out and search]
[Won't look good]
[Or shall I?]
[He]: No idea?
[I]: aa..aa..aa..
[So what?]
[I'm not the last person]
[It's natural]
[Not really]
[He]: No idea?
[I]: Sorry, No idea.

Awkward Ending

[At a fish stall. I was waiting for the fish I ordered to be cleaned and cut]
[He] : Are you the one who ordered the Tuna fish?
[I] : Yes.
[He]: How do you cook it? When I bought it last time, I fried as I didn't know any other way of cooking. And the smell was horrible.
[I]: I don't have much idea but our maid knows how to cook it.
[He]: I must say, the smell was unbearable
[I]: When I bought it first time, I had to throw it [I missed to explain it was not because of smell but my roasted fish turned out to be a big flop].
[He]: Ha..Ha.. but doesn't it smell?
[I]: I don't think so. I suppose our maid knows the way to cook it.
[He]: Look at all these fishes. I mean they are so expensive and this is still available at a reasonable price. That's the reason I bought it last time and my goodness the smell was horrible.
[I]: [I gave a sheepish grin as that's the precise reason I bought it too. However, I never wanted it to come out as my deteriorating quality of life but as an experiment with some exotic fish]
I mean it doesn't smell as bad as, say, Sardine...
[He]: No...No...
[I]: Also, we cook it and don't fry it. I suppose fried fish always smell worse.
[He]: No, Not really. The smell of Sardine fry or any other fry is actually a good smell. This was actually a foul smell.
[I must say I do agree with smelling good fried fish and felt embarrassed that I might have been inadvertently influenced by those vegetarians]
[I]: My maid actually removes the skin and cooks. Did you remove the skin while frying?
[He]: No, we didn't. We infact fried with skin intact.
[I]: Not sure. But that could be one reason for that foul smell. Or maybe we should ask the Japanese..He..He..
[He]: Yes, that could be the reason. So, that's why you have asked the guy to remove the skin
[I]: Yes.
[Then couple of minutes of silence]
[He]: Okay, then. Thank you.
[I]: Ah..Ah... You're welcome.

Growing Up

My height has always been 171cms. Few years ago when one of my friends met me after a gap of few years, he exclaimed that I had grown taller. I spent half a day measuring my height and the miracle didn't happen and I turned out be unmoved 171cms.

It's a bad number, if you ask me. I can't say I'm 5'8" and I don't want to say I'm 5'7". In other words, I neither wanted to have an inflated ego nor effacing.

Not that I have any issues with my height. In fact, when I was younger, a measurement chart that my parents came across predicted my adult height at 5'4". I have always taken pride in the fact that I exceeded my potential as an adult.

But every time when my height was measured at the hospitals, I was invariably 172 cms. Now I have a doubt whether I'm undercutting myself. So, I have decided to declare my height as 5'8" in any future communications.

Chinese lessons

Chinese are no longer overawed by Indians' mastery over English. On the contrary, now it appears they want to atone for their inferiority feeling vis-a-vis Indian English.
[Chinese]: It's tough to follow your accent.
[I]: he he he
[Chinese]: I asked my colleague how to follow Indian English and he told me there were three rules.
[I]: A-ha...
[Chinese]: You don't say -t- but -d- instead.
[I]: Is it?
[Chinese]: Say, "interesting"
[I]: iMTresTiG
[Chinese]: Yes, Yes. There you go, iMDeresTiG
[I]: < That must be my Dravidian tongue. We are supposed to use 'voiceless' form in the beginning of a word and 'voiced' form in the next part. > Okay. So, what is the second rule?
[Chinese]: You don't say -c- but -g- instead.
[I]: huh...
[Chinese]: You don't say 'come' but say 'gum'. Say 'come'.
[I]: kam
[Chinese]: < brightening > You see... gam .
[I]: < Now that is a googly. That defies my Dravidian tongue too. I should be natural in pronouncing voiceless velar instead of voiced velar in the beginning. > And the third rule...
[Chinese]: Say 'Mary'
[I]: myArri...Did you mean mEri
[Chinese]: mEli! You don't say 'r' but use 'l' instead.
[I]: < How can my rhotic ever be misunderstood for alveolar lateral approximant? > That is tricky ...ha ha ha..
[Chinese]: Oh! Trrrr......

Unstereotyped

[Few summers ago]
[Air Hostess]: Mr. Mangalore, you have ordered a vegetarian meal?
[I]: < I have to tick 'non-vegetarian' next time onwards >. No, I didn't give any preferences. Probably, agent must have ticked wrongly. I would like to have something from the menu.
[Few summers later]
[Air Hostess]: Mr. Mangalore, you have ordered the Hindu meal?
[I]: < What's this non-sense? Why the agent had to change my non-preference to vegetarian preference > No, I didn't order for Hindu meal. I'm not sure how it happened. I would like to chose from your menu.
[Last winter]
[Air Hostess]: Mr. Mangalore, you have ordered the Hindu meal?
[I]: < What is going on here >. I'm sure that must be a mistake. I didn't give any choices. Do you have something else.
[Air Hostess]: Sorry, Sir. You have only vegetarian selection. Would you prefer that instead of the Hindu meal?
[I]: < What difference will that make? Why these fadists want to force their identity to the majority? > Okay, I'll have the Hindu meal.
[Hindu meal was delivered. It was a non-vegetarian meal]
[I]: < Did they make a mistake? Who cares? >
[Few days back ]
[Air Hostess]: Mr. Vadiarillat, you have ordered the Hindu meal?
[I]: < I stared at her face thinking what to say >
[Air Hostess]: Hindu meal, it's a non-vegetarian meal
[I]: Yes, I know. I'll have it.

A Kafkaesque Early Morning Dream

Something happened and I was ushered to a hotel room. I found myself sharing that room with a family. The family consisted of a middle aged woman, a young man and a young woman. The young woman was breathtakingly beautiful. There was a TV in the room. The women went inside the living room. I went there and came back. I went out.

In the corridor, I ran across another young lady. She was gravely attractive. She looked at me. I couldn't make out whether that stare was blank or she was smiling. Somebody then stopped me and told my room was different. It was 305 and there was the key. I didn't take it. I said something and went somewhere.

Then I found myself arguing with somebody. I told I needed a separate room. Some more arguments. Then I met  another guy and took the keys.

After that I found myself in a friend's room. I told I was stranded and was put up in a hotel. There was another guy. He asked me whether I met Ananya. I said I did.

Then I was at my home. There was something to be done. I sent my brother. After sometime I went there myself. I saw my brother. Then I was walking inside some building I met this tall police officer.

The police officer stopped me. He asked what I did to her. I said I didn't do anything. In fact, when I found myself sharing my room with them I asked for a separate room. Then I said my friend's friend knew Ananya.

[My alarm clock went off and I woke up. I was supposed to study for my exam today but I went back to sleep to complete the mystery. But it was of no use]

Registering a change - i

[First two decades of my life]
"Lady's fingers tastes good"
"I like Lady's fingers"
"Lady's fingers is my favourite vegetable"
"Give me anyday Lady's fingers"
"Lady's fingers is the best vegetable"
[Third decade of my life]
I ate Lady's fingers.
Lady's fingers.
Lady's fingers.
Something is wrong.
[Fourth decade of my life]
"I DON'T LIKE LADY'S FINGERS"
Took nearly half a decade to register that.

Quintessential Dravidian Names

I:...
He: Hey! That is a North Indian name!
I:< thinking >
He: I mean you people generally give gods', goddesses' names