DRUM ROLLS!!!
Writing, imagining, laughing, joking, introspecting, travelling, reading, reviewing and of course, living! My blog has it all, I hope!
Wednesday, March 23, 2022
THEME REVEAL FOR A TO Z 2022 - #BLOGCHATTER
Monday, March 14, 2022
ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE!
Credits: Col. Gopi Menon
The title of this post could be
akin to what is written on the entrance of Dante’s Inferno. However, it is a
silent prayer that is on the lips of all those who travel on some of the more
dangerous roads in Kerala. God’s Own Country seems to have the most picturesque
locales in the country, but if one is driving, one cannot afford to look away
from the road, filled as it is with potholes and, in places, craters.
I live in
Thrissur, the cultural capital of Kerala. A town that abounds in temples, built
around a beautiful Shiva temple. The Swaraj Round that flanks the temple is the
main road around which shops and business establishments have been thriving. I
recall those days when the Round was a circular road on which vehicles plied in
a leisurely fashion, allowing pedestrians to stroll across and walk on the Thekkinkadu
Maidan, pray at the temple and then stroll back home.
Those were
the days! In the next two decades, the number of vehicles grew significantly, and
the Swaraj Round was turned into a one-way thoroughfare. Pedestrians had a hard
time because there were cars and scooters parked everywhere, till one day, NO PARKING
Boards came up on the Round. Parking had to be shifted to the Maidan just to
quell the traffic that grew, day by day.
Meanwhile,
the rest of Thrissur was no slower in growing. The lanes leading off from the
Round became tinier and more congested as buildings came up, forcing the road
to drastically thin out, and once again, parked vehicles were the main problem.
The pavement had been eaten up by the cannibalistic buildings, and pedestrians could
hardly find a path to walk on.
Today,
Thrissur has reached its limits as the number of vehicles has grown substantially.
Cars have become more opulent, households boast of a vehicle per family member and
cars are no longer a luxury item, but a necessity. However, Thrissur town has
not grown in comparison, the roads still being tiny and convoluted. How often
have we seen two cars in tandem, almost like the Thrissur Pooram ‘koda mattil’,
swaying this way and that, trying to honk their way out of a traffic snarl.
The present
day is even more arduous. The Kerala Water Works have assiduously done their
duty and broken up many roads to maintain or repair the water pipes that snake
below. This activity is mandatory, of course, and gets done over a couple of
weeks, or months, while the residents try to use the tiny area of the road that
remains. The pavements are filled with mud, sand, iron pipes and all the
paraphernalia required. All very efficient!
However, once
the Water Works have finished their bit, they are expected to cover the holes
and smoothen the bits they have dug up. Meanwhile, the PWD waits for this to
happen so that they can repair and tar the road. The waiting process takes
almost six months, the residents trundle on roads that are untarred, filled
with holes and an absolute misery to traverse over. Some wise soul did say, “Stop
worrying about the potholes on the road and enjoy the journey!” Unfortunately,
that is easier said, than done.
I live on
Peringavu Main Road where the scenario has played out exactly the way portrayed
above. The PWD has finally come in, surveyed the road, and cut it all up. There
are stones that have been flattened by a JCB which comes twice a week, rumbles
across making all the buildings, and our hearts, vibrate, and once flattened,
it disappears for the next one week. The road continues to be a stony path and
several two-wheeler drivers have skidded and hurt themselves over the past few
months. The dust that flies across embeds itself in every nook and cranny,
cakes the stationary cars in a layer of dust so thick that one can leave autographs
on the windshield, and people with asthma and bronchial problems have seen
their doctors’ bills go up drastically.
Two More Views of Peringavu Main Road
Credits: Col. Gopi Menon
Why do we let
this happen to us? Don’t we, as tax-paying citizens, deserve better lives, and
amenities? Do different departments in the Government have varied ways of doing
their jobs, and shouldn’t they be trying to finish the tasks done, one by one,
instead of letting them moulder and lie undone all over the place? Why do we
citizens have to suffer in silence?
It is said
that if the roads and transport services in a country are efficient, much
development takes place. There are ways and means of creating good roads that
will survive the endless Kerala monsoons, but for that the materials used, and
the initial laying and tarring, should be exemplary. As we say in the education
system, children should be thorough with the basics, and from there, they will
be able to soar and do marvellous things in life. The basics matter, and how!
It is with
sadness that I write this article. The quote in Julius Caesar says it all, and
I take the liberty of misquoting here… “Not that I love Thrissur less, but that
I love the residents of Thrissur more.” It is for these residents that I put
forth my views and I do hope they will be read and pondered over.
Finally, I
would like to end with the following quote:
“Be proud of
your hometown; it’s a big part of what makes you the person you are.”
Saturday, March 12, 2022
STARS FROM THE BORDERLESS SEA By SHALINI MULLICK (REVIEW)
The first story is called Sayonee – Soulmate. When you start reading, the feeling of camaraderie between the protagonists, and the perfect love they share, grows along till the end of the story when you realise how apt the title is. It is through a collection of letters – “long airmail envelopes and blue inland letters” with “postmarks from civilian and army post offices” – that this love shines through, and though life does have its purple patches and its depressing blues, these letters keep the spirits up.
“The quiet observer and the eloquent
speaker were drawn to each other.” Are these two legendary romancers or
star-crossed lovers?
The lines below could
well be the stuff of dreams, making poets rejoice.
“If something could
be the summer rain and the warmth of the winter sun at the same time, it was
her joyous laughter.”
“Each soaked in the
other’s presence, finding solace in silence and their togetherness.”
“And then, she
stepped out into the night, taking the soft embers of the fireplace the
shimmering moonlight and their silence with her.”
The second story is titled
Humsafar – Companion. It brings out the reality of love in all its hues –
romantic love between a young couple, hopeless love which cannot be turned into
fulfillment, the love in marriage that goes through stages of extreme joy and
immense frustration. How a single tragedy can etch its imprint on a
relationship has been brought out poignantly by Shalini Mullick, and yet, hope
lies eternal in the human breast. This story brings out the truth of how
compassion and understanding can, very often, tether a relationship down even
after it has floundered.
A sweet touch is to use
ice cream as a motif to keep love alive.
“Like the ice cream
flavours, we are different in some ways, but we can share our differences and
taste the sweetness of life together.”
Shalini Mullick stresses on the fact that people are often parts of
themselves, and in love, they give some of these parts away to their loved ones
forever. She talks of silent, enduring love, much akin to “the gentle click of
a missing piece of a puzzle falling into place”. All three stories touch upon
this fascinating aspect where the protagonists are part of one another’s souls.
She also believes in the magic of silence.
“The discussions were always punctuated by filter coffee. And silence.
The silence seemed to become him and his apartment… this silence would help her
hear her own voice.” This, in turn, turns into another motif in the story.
“There was a stillness now. Not
an uncomfortable one, but not a deeply satisfying one, either.” However, by
this point, the shadows have been left behind.
The book ends with the third story titled Humraaz – Confidante.
Once again there is romance, there is conflict and there is a sense of
reconciliation, an acceptance of life as it comes.
Certain facets of the author’s persona come out in the stories, like, for example, an obvious love for newspapers, as her protagonists dissect sections of them with frank enjoyment. The women in the stories are strong, if not overtly so, and deal with the turmoil in their lives with equanimity. Maybe they do lose themselves at first, but then find happiness in those flowers within reach. As the author puts it in her third story, each one is "... a woman touched by love and been saved and strengthened by the power it had kindled. A woman who had been fortunate to have loved and been loved back; to have lived life on her own terms, without regrets or misgivings."
Once again, she
refers to silence. “This was a different silence, a mix of stillness and
anticipation.”
Maybe, that is what
the reader senses as well, as this beautifully narrated book brings together intimate
gestures, along with moments of joy and togetherness which help the protagonists
to live their lives without “damaging the fragile threads of happiness that
they had woven into their troubled lives.”
HOME SWEET HOME!
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