Thoughts in Words

Background There is no doubt that I was born into a male dominated society. We all are. From time immemorial, man dominated the society. Considering that society basically consisted of men and women, it is not a great deal I think. Still therein lies man’s smartness. He knew that women are actually, intuitively smarter and so he found ways to keep them subdued. The only thing he had was his superior physical raw strength, to hunt and provide. The women who succeeded in this battle of supremacy were the ones who used their smartness very unobtrusively, very innocuously and very intelligently. But this is not an essay on social sciences. An Image Ever since I remember I had noticed that the women in the Kerala house hold were quite smart. Being smart, they had honed the expertise in keeping quiet to near perfection. They would voice their opinion only when asked or when they felt that something was going horribly wrong. And both were not too rare either, it appeared! Since mat

I hate whatsapp. Whatsapp in itself is mishmash. Corrupted.   A short, sweet, social civility, a friendly enquiry, stolen and twisted. Worse when you think of the iconic question so popularised by Bugs Bunny with an insouciant, nonchalant attitude, chewing on a carrot, “What’s up, Doc?” And in its original form, “what’s up?” In fact “wassapp” would have been a better corruption. The name itself asks a couple of questions. What is the application? What application? Is it what sapp (as in sapping)? If it is what’s app, what happened to the apostrophe? So when we use it are we seeking answers about the application or about our own enquiries? Search me. This application is not even a full decade old. But it has invaded and overpowered us. Internet by itself has taken away many pleasurable activities from us. Now this so called app has actually gone worse and made us totally worthless. Every technology is expected to improve our lives. Life is supposed to be made easier. But

Preamble While on his death bed, when asked about his last wish, Wolf Von Goethe, the celebrated German poet said: “Light, more light” - his last words. In the Beginning My first puff was when I was about three. Some boast that they began in class eight and all. Not me. In my case history goes back to when I was three and in my mother’s lap. Father gave me a puff and all hell broke loose. I remember coughing unendingly, mother shouting her head off and father laughing his heart out. Father was a smoker. That attracted me to smoke. He used to take long puffs so artistically, slowly and with half closed eyes, I was certain that there was something heavenly about it. Somewhere then I must have decided that I would smoke when my day arrived. Thrill of a Steal Cut to when I was eight or so. Those days I was growing up in Kerala (while my parents were in Madras). My grandfather never smoked, but all my uncles smoked. So did most of the elderly men in the extended family. A parti