വായന സമയം : മൂന്ന് മിനിറ്റ്

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പതിവിനു വിപരീതമായി ഇന്ന് പയ്യൻ അതിരാവിലെ എണീറ്റു. സൂര്യനിനിയും റാന്തലിന്റെ തിരി പൊക്കിയിട്ടില്ല. പയ്യൻ തിരശീല നീക്കി പുറത്തോട്ട് നോക്കി ഞെളിഞ്ഞു. കൊയ്യാക്ക മരത്തിൽ ഇരുന്ന് ഉദയരവിചന്ദ്രിക രാഗത്തിൽ ഗീതം മൂളിക്കൊണ്ടിരുന്ന ഒരു കിളി ഇത് കണ്ടു. പക്ഷി ഉടനെ സ-പ-സ ചൊല്ലി വാർത്ത സൂര്യഭഗവാന്റെ ശിങ്കിടികളുടെ കാതിൽ ഓതി. കിരണങ്ങളുടെ പരക്കം പാച്ചിൽ. അപ്രതീക്ഷിത വാർത്ത കേട്ട് ആടിപ്പോയ ഭഗവാൻ ആറ് ഡിഗ്രി തെക്കോട്ടാണ് ഉദിച്ചത്.

വിശ്വവിഖ്യാതനായ സീനിയർ പയ്യൻ ശ്രീ വി.കെ.എൻ. ഏതോ കഥയിൽ പറഞ്ഞ പോലെ, ഒരാശയം ഓർക്കാപുറത്തുകയറി പയ്യനെ ബലാത്സംഗം ചെയ്‌തു.
(ആത്മഗതം) രണ്ട് സൂര്യനമസ്‌കാരമങ്ങു കാച്ചിക്കളയാം. യോഗപ്പായ എടുത്ത് വിരിക്കുന്നത്തിന്റെ സമാന്തരചിന്തയിൽ എം. എസ്. അമ്മയെ ഓർത്തു. പാട്ട് വയ്ക്കാനായി ഫോൺ തിരഞ്ഞപ്പോൾ, കുപ്പായത്തിന്റെ ജോപ്പിൽ തന്നെ ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നത് കൊണ്ട് പയ്യന് ഒരിക്കലും കണ്ടുപിടിക്കാൻ പറ്റിയില്ല. ഒരു ശിഥിലനിമിഷത്തേക്ക് പയ്യൻ ജീവിതത്തിന്റെ സുഖദുഃഖങ്ങളുടെ ജക്സ്റ്റപൊസിഷൻ എന്താണെന്ന് ആലോചിച്ചു. ഇന്നും ഉത്തരം കിട്ടിയില്ല. യാഥാർഥ്യത്തിലേക്ക് തിരിച്ചുവന്ന പയ്യൻ നിരാശയുടെ പിടിയിൽ നിന്നും യോഗപ്പായ നീട്ടി വിരിച്ചു. പായയുടെ ചുരുളഴിക്കാൻ പയ്യന് ഒന്നേ ദശാംശം ആറെ ഒന്നേ എട്ട് നിമിഷമേ വേണ്ടി വന്നുള്ളു. അതിനിടയിൽ താൻ പോലും അറിയാതെ പയ്യന്റെ നാഭിയിൽ നിന്നും അന്നവാഹി ബൈപ്പാസ് വഴി, ആനവണ്ടി തൊണ്ടയിലൂടെ, സഹാറൻ അധരങ്ങളിൽ ഒരു നിത്യയൗവന ഗാനം അലയടിച്ചു. പയ്യൻ പാടി:

" പാൽ വർണ്ണ പറവൈ കുളിപതർക്കാക,
പനി തുളിയെല്ലാം ശേഖരിപ്പേൻ…
(അകാരം)
ദേവതൈ കുളിത്ത തൂളികളൈ അള്ളി,
തീർത്ഥം എൻട്രേ നാൻ കുടിപ്പേൻ…"

ഈ സമയത്താണ് പയ്യന്റെ പിതാവ് കുളിമുറിയിൽ നിന്നും പൂജാമുറിയിലേക്ക് തോർത്തുമുണ്ടുടുത്ത് നടന്ന് വന്നത്. കേൾക്കാൻ ആഗ്രഹിച്ച പാട്ടലെന്ന് മാത്രമല്ല, ഇനി ഒരിക്കലും കേൾക്കാൻ ഇടവരുത്തല്ലേ എന്ന് ഭഗവതിമാരോടും ഇഷ്ടദൈവങ്ങളോടും കേണപേക്ഷിച്ചതുമായ മില്ലേനിയൽ മെലഡി. അമ്പലത്തിൽ ദീപാരാധനയ്‌ക്കു ശേഷം തിരുമേനിയുടെ കൈയിൽ നിന്നും തീർത്ഥം വാങ്ങിക്കുടിച്ച മുഖപ്രസാദത്തോടെ ഉദിച്ചു നിന്നിരുന്ന പയ്യനെ നഖശിഖാന്തം നോക്കുന്നതിനിടയിൽ, അവരുടെ കണ്ണുകൾ തമ്മിൽ കോർത്തു. അച്ഛൻ കണ്ണ് കയർത്തു, ഹേതുവെന്തെന്നറിയാതെ പയ്യൻ കണ്ണ് വിയർത്തു. പയ്യന്മാർ നേരത്തെ എഴുന്നേൽക്കുക എന്നുള്ളത് അച്ഛനമ്മമാരുടെ ജീവിതാഭിലാഷമാണെന്ന പരമാർത്ഥം ഉൾക്കൊണ്ട് പയ്യൻ മന്ദസ്മിതത്തോടെ ചൊല്ലി:

ഗുഡ് മാർണിങ് !

നാരായണ എന്ന് രണ്ടുതവണ അടുപ്പിച്ചു ഉരുവിട്ടുകൊണ്ട് അച്ഛൻ മുന്നോട്ട് നടന്നു. നാരായണമന്ത്രം കൺസെന്റ്, കർമ്മം ആമ; ഫലം മുയൽ എന്നീ ഗീതവാക്യങ്ങളെ ബുദ്ധിയിൽ താലോലിച്ച് പയ്യൻ ഗദ്ഗദം ചേർത്ത് തുടർന്ന് പാടി:

"അൺപേ അൺപേ കൊല്ലാതെ…
കണ്ണേ കണ്ണേ കിള്ളാതെ…
പെണ്ണേ പുണ്ണകൈയിൽ ഇദയത്തെ വെടിക്കാതെ…"

പ്രണാമം
ശ്വാസം അകത്തോട്ട് … ഒന്ന്
ശ്വാസം പുറത്തോട്ട് … രണ്ട്

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അഭിപ്രായങ്ങളും വിമർശനങ്ങളും ദയവുചെയ്ത് ഇവിടെ അറിയിക്കുക

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Reading time : 5 minutes

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Let us travel back to the age of reptiles. Early reptiles understood the need for world sustainability by reproduction, hence they happily mated, laid eggs and moved on to next honey moon. Reptile nonchalance is criminally underrated. They left their eggs to sun and season to hatch. A reptile life thus begins and ends with its own experiences. Bliss!

Enter the birds. They developed feathers and wings to counter the cold. They had intercourse and more eggs were delivered. Then they broke the age old reptile tradition, and started caring about their eggs by keeping them warm and guarding them from danger. The first act of true selfishness in the evolution of Evolution.

Mammals! When birds thought hair instead of feathers was perfectly stupid, mammals came up with the hitherto unknown notion of having sex and storing eggs inside its own body. Inside the body!!! Such was the shock, bird brains attained its maximum cognisance and reptiles retired from being related. The mammalian eggs came out alive from their body and started crying for food. The mountains and tadpoles echoed the melancholy. Mammals, then acquired the habit of providing protection and nutrition to the offspring. Thus began the suckling and tickling. This Mammalian care lead to mutual understanding and association between the parent and the offspring. The cherishing of the youngling created attachment, and kindled the possibility of learning by imitation. The beginnings of true social life. As H.G.Wells has rightly said, "A teachable type of life had come into the world". The student then became the teacher, thoughts replaced lessons, and life advanced in the world. Here we are!

Secreting or not, all mammalian genders have mammary glands. One gender ceasing to mature at an early age and another maturing at a later stage. Unravelling this bias, a primitive hypothesis suggested that the early mammal children were truly sexist, and chose to suck nipple(s) of one specific gender while disdainfully ignoring the other. The continuous process of suckling and sucking might have caused the growth in the former, and the categorical humiliation could have hindered the growth in the latter. The fallacious theory dared to compare Mammae to the ever expanding universe. Regardless of the intellectual snobbery, it opened up a new space of body research, which, the Children Of Science(COS a.k.a Cause) informally called as 'The shape of you'. Apart from this, two questions of great fiscal and monetary importance are: "Since when did one start wearing the inevitable as an embellishment to poverty, and the other consider this evolutionary augmentation as a world wonder"?

The United League Of Nations(TULON), is seriously contemplating re-introduction of 'Mulakkaram', loosely translated to Breast Tax, which, till the early 20^th century, was the tax imposed on lower caste women if they wanted to cover their breasts in public. The women were expected to pay the government a tax on their bosom, as soon as they started developing them. The tax collectors would visit every house to collect Breast(Either of the two fleshy milk-secreting glandular organs on the chest of a woman) tax from any lower caste women who passed the age of puberty. The tax was evaluated by the collectors depending on the size of their breasts. An American newspaper casually called it as "The Cover Charge", and people laughed for seven consecutive days. Later, they were all hanged, drawn and quartered for the simple crime of shamelessness. The current generation of people in this geographical area unanimously agreed that they are ashamed of their ancestry.

The famous English thought on "To cover or not to cover" continues to baffle the intelligent society. An armchair thinker once said: "A man went outside a bar and looked behind to find it sacrilegious; but from the inside he found it perfectly ordinary". In some parts of the world, people are happy not covering their body or smile, whereas in some other parts of the world covering head to toe is the stepping stone to nirvana. Rest of the world believes in heuristic principles.

To abruptly end is merciful.

Many peace.

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തെരുവ് നായ എന്നുള്ളത് വളരെ ശക്തിയുള്ള ഒരു പദമാണ്. തെരുവ് നായ്ക്കളോ, ബലഹീനതയുടെ അടയാളവും.

എനിക്കിഷ്ടമല്ല എന്ന് പറഞ്ഞപ്പോൾ, ദേഷ്യവും പുച്ഛവും കലർത്തി എന്നെ നോക്കിയ കണ്ണുകളിലെ യുക്‌തി എന്താണെന്ന് മനസ്സിലായില്ല. പരിണാമസിദ്ധാന്തം കൊണ്ടോ, അല്ലെങ്കിൽ ദൈവത്തിന്റെ കുസൃതി കൊണ്ടോ, മനുഷ്യൻ മുകളിലും, നായ കീഴിലുമാണെന്നു എല്ലാ മനുഷ്യർക്കും അറിയാം. ഇതിനെ കുറിച്ചുള്ള നായ്ക്കളുടെ അഭിപ്രായം അറിയില്ല.

വീട്ടിൽ ബാക്കി വരുന്ന ഭക്ഷണം നായക്കൾക്ക് കൊടുക്കാത്ത സമൂഹത്തിനോട്, ലജ്ജ പ്രകടിപ്പിച്ച് പ്രസംഗിക്കുന്ന ഒരാളും, നായ്ക്ക് ഇഷ്ടപ്പെട്ട ഭക്ഷണം പാചകം ചെയ്‌തതായി കേട്ടിട്ടില്ല. മിച്ചകരുണയല്ലേ? സ്നേഹമല്ലല്ലോ നായയോട്.

ഭക്ഷണം ബാക്കി വരാത്ത ദിവസം നേരിട്ട് കണ്ട് നായയോട് ക്ഷമ ചോദിക്കുന്നുണ്ടോ? മഴയുള്ള ദിവസം നായയ്ക്ക് നീണ്ടുനിവർന്ന് കിടക്കാൻ പടി തുറന്ന് കൊടുക്കുന്നുണ്ടോ? വിഷുവിനും, ദീപാവലിക്കും, തിരഞ്ഞെടുപ്പ്‌ ഫലപ്രഖ്യാപനത്തിന്റെ അന്നും പടക്കം പൊട്ടിക്കാതിരിക്കുന്നുണ്ടോ? രാത്രിയുടെ മദ്ധ്യത്തിൽ, ഉറക്കത്തിന് ഭംഗം വരുത്തി നായക്കൾ തങ്ങളുടെ സുഹൃത്തിന്റെ കല്ല്യാണത്തിന് കൂട്ടകുരവയിടുമ്പോൾ, നായിന്റെ മോന്റെ വായിൽ തുണി കുത്തികേറ്റണമെന്ന് അഭിപ്രായപെട്ടിട്ടില്ലേ?

മിച്ചകരുണയല്ലേ? പിന്നെ എന്തിനീ മുഖംമൂടി പ്രസംഗം?

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അഭിപ്രായങ്ങളും വിമർശനങ്ങളും ദയവുചെയ്ത് ഇവിടെ അറിയിക്കുക

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I recently read an article about hypocognition. It is the state where a feeling, a concept, or a phenomenon cannot be put into words. For example, what's the word for the vague uncomfortable feeling of sitting on a seat that is still radiating warmth from someone else’s bottom? It is called Shoeburyness. I had such an experience, not shoeburyness, that I have had in many a wonderful occasions. Hypocognition happened.

I think, therefore I am sometimes able to enjoy certain moments of exquisite intellectual pleasure of becoming aware that a completely unrelated person in the world, dead or alive, has resonated with my thoughts. Once in a bed I thought: "There are certain things in the world which will not bend to force. Things that cannot be acquired by power, but are presented by faith and happiness. Love! I strongly believe that love is for those who deserve it. The wealthiest human cannot find an ounce of love any of the shops in the world. The strongest human can never feel love through arm wrestling. Love cannot be snatched, bought or bartered. That's where the satisfaction of giving takes birth.

Books are wonderful objects. My friend might think me queer to call it an object. People think books have feelings. So do I. Currently, I am reading Siddhartha by Herman Hesse. Today, I read this:

Siddhartha : "Oh, he's strong, the Samana, and he isn't afraid of anything. He could force you, beautiful girl. He could kidnap you. He could hurt you."

Kamala : "No, Samana, I am not afraid of this. Did any Samana or Brahman ever fear, someone might come and grab him and steal his learning, and his religious devotion, and his depth of thought? No, for they are his very own, and he would only give away from those whatever he is willing to give and to whomever he is willing to give. Like this it is, precisely like this it is also with Kamala and with pleasures o love. Beautiful and red is Kamala's mouth, but just try to kiss it against Kamala's will, and you will not obtain a single drop of sweetness from it, which knows how to give so many sweet things! You are learning easily, Siddhartha, thus you should also learn this: love can be obtained by begging, buying, receiving it as a gift, finding it in the street, but it cannot be stolen. In this, you have come up with the wrong path. No, it would be a pity, if a pretty young man like you would want to tackle it in such a wrong manner."

What do we call it? Herman Hesse and I thinking about same topic? I don't have a word for it, so I am going with…

Resonating thoughts!

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എന്താണ് നഷ്ടപ്പെട്ടതെന്ന് എനിക്കറിയില്ല. നഷ്ടങ്ങളെ ചിട്ടപ്പെടുത്തുവാൻ നമുക്കാവില്ല. നഷ്ടത്തിന് കനമുണ്ടെന്ന് മാത്രം അറിയാം, ആ കനമാണ് നമ്മൾ താങ്ങുന്നത്. നഷ്ടത്തിന് ഒരു രൂപസങ്കല്പം നൽകാമെങ്കിൽ അത് ഒരു ബുദ്ധിമാനായ വേതാളത്തിന്റേതാവണം. തോളിലിന്നുരുന്ന് അത് നമ്മുടെ ചെവിയിൽ കുസൃതികഥകൾ പറയുന്നു. അതിന്റെ ഉത്തരം ആലോചിച്ചു നമ്മൾ തല പുകയ്ക്കുന്നു.

എന്തിനും ഏതിനും അതിന്റേതായ ഒരു കാരണമുണ്ടെന്നു യുക്തിവാദികൾ പറയും. അവർക്ക് അത് മറ്റുള്ളവരെ കുറിച്ച് മാത്രമേ പറയാനാവൂ. സ്വന്തം കാര്യം വരുമ്പോൾ, കാരണം കണ്ണുകളിൽ തെളിഞ്ഞാലും, ഉൾമനസ്സിൽ മൂടൽമഞ്ഞാണ്. ലോകം അർത്ഥശൂന്യമാണെന്ന് അവർ അപ്പോൾ ഉറച്ചു വിശ്വസിക്കുന്നു.

നഷ്ടബോധം, ഐക്യൂ കുറഞ്ഞ ഒരു നല്ല നായാട്ടുകാരനെ പോലെയാണ്. എത്ര വട്ടം ആവർത്തിച്ച് പറഞ്ഞാലും ഉണ്മ തലയിൽ കേറില്ല, പക്ഷെ ഒരിക്കലും തെറ്റാത്ത ഉന്നത്തോടെ അയാൾ സമനിലയെ നിരന്തരം വേട്ടയാടുന്നു.

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അഭിപ്രായങ്ങളും വിമർശനങ്ങളും ദയവുചെയ്ത് ഇവിടെ അറിയിക്കുക

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Liverpool FC is my football club. Palakkad is my beautiful home town in Kerala, India.

I had a dream.

Liverpool FC came to Palakkad to play a football game. Sadio Mane started the game on bench, but he chose to stand with the fans. A confident young boy was standing next to him in the stadium. Naturally, they became friends. Unforeseen, as is usually the case with nature, the game was cancelled few minutes into it. I asked Sadio, “Will you play football with us in my school?“ He said yes. So I took him to Navodaya Vidyalaya, Palakkad, the best school in the world. I introduced Sadio to my friends and they all were ready for a game.

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Sadio fell in love with the ground the moment he saw it. Western ghats in the backdrop and the amazing Palakkadan wind made him whisper: “This is where I want to play day in day out”. Sadio played in my team's attack and I played in the midfield. When my goalkeeper played a simple ball to me, I looked up the field and saw Sadio making the run. With my barefoot, I sliced the ball and it was airborne. Seconds later, that touch by Sadio, and the finish, the ball was in the back of the net. The trend continued, he made those runs, and I sent him through on the goal. We won!

After the post match handshake and hug, Sadio asked me: “Why don’t you come to Melwood some day?” in French obviously. I smiled, and said “Oui, I will try. Merci beaucoup”. Sadio flew back to England. On the plane, he spoke to a man called Jurgen Klopp and a week later, I got a call from Liverpool FC, the best football club in the world.

I landed in John Lennon airport. Imagine all the people, waiting for my arrival. I reached Melwood, Liverpool FC's training ground. Sadio introduced me to his friends. Virgil was taller than me. Trent is younger than me. Robbo warned me about Millie's humour sense. Mo's English was better than mine. I gave Ali a chocolate and he kept it. I told Bobby he is my favourite player. The boss gave me hug and said welcome. I was home.

I wore boots for evening's training session. Sadio told the boss that he wanted me to play in his side. I scored one, assisted twice, made a goal saving tackle and broke my ankle.

Hendo lifted the ball onto Mo's path, who cut it back to Bobby, who nonchalantly flicked it into the space behind Virgil. I was too quick for the big man. Blink of an eye, I slotted the ball past Adrian and copied a Bobby celebration. Then Allison played a simple ball to me, I looked up the field and saw Sadio making the run. I sliced the ball and it was airborne. Seconds later, that touch by Sadio and the finish, the ball was in the back of the net. The second assist followed a neat link up play between Bobby, Mo, Sadio and Me. Bobby's no look finish met my cross at the far post. Jurgen's celebration to that was wild.

I might have kicked the wall too hard. That's how I woke up with a broken ankle, but it was definitely worth the dream.

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YNWA!

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Mighty mountains, I saw its curves and peaks,
Up above and far away, amongst clouds and skies.
Through pathless woods, I shall climb to the top,
A strange voice inside my head, but I did not stop.

First came the rain, making my feet wet,
Then came the sun, making my brow sweat.
Pain building in body, but I couldn't care less,
Then I crossed a line, that made the trees jealous

Slippery stones, my mind must decide quick,
The next crucial step in this trek.
For the wrong choice could be as fatal,
As a life, with no adventure to tell.

Alas, I saw the yellow tent by the riverside,
In a valley like a silver necklace on a bride.
Stretched my shape, and washed my face,
With water so cold, that set my wits ablaze.

Twilight flirted with day and night,
Sky blushed as it turned orange, bright.
Adios, I am done for the day, said the setting Sun.
'See you on the other side' was Earth's cunning pun.

The river carried mountain's letter to the sea.
The poem rhymed words of passionate love to me.
Fate, they cannot unite; divided by an invisible wall.
Faith! the mountain awaited the next rainfall.

I looked up, now the canvas was painted black,
A full moon and a thousand splendid suns smiled back.
I walked for long, forlorn, with a mind full of peace.
Mighty mountains, I loved its curves and peaks.

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What happened?

I was reading a book and suddenly heard a loud noise from outside.

Can you please elaborate?

That's what sir, BANG!, and seconds later, a second BANG.

Will you be able to recreate your evening till the incident?

Yes, sir. Yesterday I came back late from work to attend two more late evening meetings. Ms. Elusive Luck's birthday, both meetings got cancelled at my arrival. So, I practised music for what I thought was an hour. Sir, It was a good workout, and by the end I was sweating and shivering from forehead to heels. I wrapped the set, and was hungrily wandering indoors. That's when i saw the most beautiful thing on my study table. A banana! Who keeps a banana on a study table, sir? Well, I did. Yesterday morning. Sync sir, Unbelievable.

Alright, then what?

Sir, I thought of cooking dinner. Dosa in my mind, I found couple of duck eggs in the fridge. 'Egg Dosa' creeped, sorry, crept into my head. I fetched Dosa batter and eggs to the warmth outside. Roasted some curry leaves, and ground them with chillies into a lush green paste. Fried some Coin Pappads as well.

An eerie silence lurked in the kitchen while I was chopping onions. I added salt and a pinch of turmeric to the onions. Then I introduced our dear eggs to Madame la Guillotine, CRACK! its viscous yellow head crashed into the bowl. I stirred a motley mixture with all that. When the pan on the stove started whispering to the winds I threw a water blanket over it. The pan hissed and shot sodium-in-water tantrums at me. I calmly slid the hot bubbling bubbles into the sink. Then I painted a solar system on the pan with batter. The system had to be perfect. A subtle press in the center followed by concentric Sufi whirling. It must spread into a round Gaussian distribution and scatter a Brownian motion of batter pores. The pores would channel the steam upwards, cooking the layers above en route its itinerary. Then, I sprayed oil, and smeared the lush green paste on top of the maturing Dosa. Few seconds later, I massaged the duck egg mash on the green pasture. Juxtaposition, hitherto unrealistic, was accomplished.

Sir, I flipped the Dosa, and waited for the other side to get cooked, flipped it again, and kept the Dosa aside. Made one more Dosa like that, sir. Later, I ate both Dosas with Maple syrup, Chammanthi Podi, and Coin pappads sir. Sync sir, Unbelievable.

What is a Chammanthi podi?
Sir, this is not the appropriate time sir. Maybe later.

Then?

I had a pear, drank 350ml of water, brushed my teeth, wrote a blog post, washed my legs, and went to bed. I continued reading the book "To kill a mockingbird", when suddenly heard a loud noise from outside sir.

Is that it?
Yes sir.

Well, write down your address and phone number. You will have to come to the police station when called upon, to give your statement about yesterday's incident.

Done deal sir. Many peace.

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The sky was clear and the occasion was auspicious, all set to witness the unwitnessed.

The Misogynist-Feminist wedding!

The cool breeze from the east moved her jet black hair to his teeth. He stopped grinning at once. No one was invited to their wedding, yet they were facing a sea of willing crowd to this fictional reality. When the news was whispered to them on a hot summer day, they were all thunderstruck, and screamed in unison, "What the"!

The ceremony began with frowns. The crowd murmured incessantly. They argued the male was feminist, and female misogynist; said it was a marriage made in paradox not paradise. When the couple vowed to make each other successful, old women in the crowd lifted their hands to mouth in pure shock. Maybe, the crowd was not ready for this, it was way ahead of their time.

Meanwhile, the Cardinals of language convened in a brand new library. Grammar goons waited outside with safety pins and clown hats. They were angry at the innate irony of the scheme, thought it to be a joke; their honor and semantics being dragged through mud. A lesson must be taught. The infidels should be ostracized from dictionaries at the least. At last, the convention decided to punish them with the punishment-that-shall-never-be-given.

A huge drama followed, and the couple lived happily ever-after.

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Today morning, I posted a message in multiple chat groups.
Clearly, the world around me was not ready for this.