Dear Mind, could you stay here for a while?

      I often slip into thinking that our son Ansu serves as a kind of metaphor for my own mind. Before I tell you how, let me say a few words about something that has puzzled me for a really long time. I haven’t really solved the puzzle yet. Here it is: I just don’t know if I should thank God or ask him to pity me for giving me a mind with unbridled curiosity. I guess this is a more dangerous, and at the same time more desirable, time for a curious mind than any other period in human history. It may thrive if it can dwell in one place and on one thing at a time, but perish (or just survive) if it keeps pursuing everything that irresistibly tempts it to wander. There is a constant array of fascinating things that jumpstarts the mind, making it hurtle along like a hound in hot pursuit of an unexpected prey.

  Curiosity, as a matter of fact, does favor those who can keep it focused until something concrete or useful can be brought about from it. But what if that doesn’t seem to be happening? Ironically, everyone with a curious mind will have discovered that curiosity, if not kept in check, can harm their chances of success or getting where they wanted to be at the time they wanted it to happen. They will also have discovered that everything they read, hear or listen to eventually becomes part and parcel of their existence, at least hidden somewhere in their uncons- cious or subconscious, and therefore serving a purpose. All this only serves to add to my confusion.     When I am free, I even go binge shopping online and order every title that sets my curiosity on fire. I inevitably end up not finishing reading at least half of them, but it gives a great sense of achievement to be the proud owner of those obscure objects of my curiosity. To worsen my predicament, I haven’t as yet found an “agony uncle” to ask if mine is a disease or something similar that I need to be concerned about.
     Back to the metaphor of Ansu for my own mind. I see the same insatiable curiosity in my son, who most likely inherited this propensity from his father. He can never rest his mind on anything for more than a short while. Nor will he be happy about any presents beyond a certain (usually very short) time. And he cannot be kept at home for a single day even. He wants to go out trying as yet untried things. If we let him have his way, he will surely find something to trouble us with. Keeping him engaged is a huge and tiring challenge for his mom. He has a lot of questions to which we don’t have ready answers. This may in fact be true of many kids but still, I call my own mind “Ansu senior”.     

Amour Vincit Omnia....

      Of all the love letters I have ever seen, the most poignant and enchanting ones are from two  literary works.You may call it novellas. The first one is  Letter from Peking by Pearl S. Buck and the other one is Premalekhanam by Vaikom Muhammad Basheer.I strongly recommend both of them.Especially for those who cant stand a thick volumes of prose fictions.

 

My dear wife,

First Before I say what must be said, let me tell you that I love only you....( The novel begins with this letter which is something we cant forget for life)

Here is the original work in Malayalam from Premalekanam.

    "My dearest Saraamma, When life is at its most intense state of youth, and one's heart has reached its most beautiful state of love, how does my dearest friend while away her time during this rare and short-lived beautiful period of life? As for me, I am living each moment of my life with my mind stirring hopelessly in love with my Saaraama. What about Saaraamaa? I request you to think deeply and kindly bless me with a sweetly generous reply,

Saaraama's own,

Keshavan Nair...." (Translation is drawn from Wikipedia entry)

     The work "Premalekhanam" has been translated into English by an Australian writer Asher  and published by UNESCO.

Does the desert bleed and bloom at the same time?

  The word “capricious” is often found naturally paired up with the word “desert”. It took a few years of living in a desert country for me to really understand the spirit of this union. Mood swings could be a genetically inherited disease for desert-dwellers. And the desert seems very proud of its capriciousness, so it never misses a chance to wear it on its sleeves. We may observe the same among our friends and acquaintances. But none of them appear to be exhibitionistic about it, whereas the desert is. 

The desert changes its moods more often than its inhabitants. Just think of the wide range of colors, and the ever-shifting weather, which forces the desert-dwelling animals, birds, reptiles, and insects into their own survival modes like aestivation or hibernation. These animals know their habitat best and are highly adaptable. Hence they make their homes – their own microenvironments – in the oases, depressions, holes, and rocky inclines. Surprisingly, they are very choosy about their timing for foraging.

As we travel through the desert, we can literally see the abrupt changes in terrain. The type, size, color, sand, rock formations, and soil vary along with the topography. The weather, too, is no exception.  One kilometer can make a difference from shivering cold to perspiring humidity. In the single diurnal course of the sun, it can be all of the following, in quick succession: foggy, brightly sunny, stormy, rainy, breezy, windy, overcast, partly cloudy, clear, and sand stormy.

The image shared is a juxtaposition captured in the southernmost city of Saudi Arabia called Bisha. The bushy broad bed of yellow flowers is not being cultivated but grows entirely on its own. It serves up a sumptuous feast for camels’ taste buds and for the eyes of the beholder. Desert in full bloom. The desert version of full bloom that is far more alluring than its non-desert counterpart.

This shot is of a mountain stream instantly formed, born out of heavy rains in mountains beyond our ken. The gushing water makes its way down the valleys, devouring everything in its course. It doesn't move mountains, but it does wash cars, roads, trees, and bridges away, turning people on high alert with sporting spirit. Men at work and their livestock are often its easy prey. People in the desert usually revel in rain. They savor every drop of it dancing in the rain. I have seen people looking down upon me as I hold an umbrella to walk in the rain. However, flash floods are one of their worst nightmares. Their tribal defense systems like “kasaba” (a watchtower for early detection of an enemy approaching their territory) is of limited use in protecting them from flash floods.

As I reflect on the desert and its people, I am inclined to think that there is a desert in the mind of every desert-dwelling man and woman. Each is symbiotically related to the other. Like the desert, they too change their minds switching into extremes. Sometimes, so sweet and lovely, at other times burning with fury. This impulsive approach knows only one of the three degrees of adjectives: the superlative.

No teaching without ‘tea’

     Every time I take a tea break during my teaching hours, I ponder how it came to be that “tea” forms the first three letters of  the word “ teacher” or “teaching”. And ironically enough, no teacher education program ever mentions even a single word about this. The English faculty at King Khalid University in Saudi Arabia, where I work, consists of teachers from 15 nationalities. One of the most obvious common traits I get to notice among them is taking tea. It provides me with the social proof that at least one thing I do as a teacher is commensurate with international teaching standards.Hats off to all tea-taking teachers from four continents.     Recently, I was selected as an invigilator for IELTS examinations. IELTS, as you may know, is  co-owned and administered by Cambridge English Language Assessment, the British Council, and IDP Education. In their special instructions to invigilators, I found a word of caution against having tea in the examination hall as the aroma may disrupt the concentration of test takers. It was something I had never thought of in my ten years of teaching. Hats off to IELTS for the new lesson on tea.

    Tea was first discovered by shepherds. They found their charges more energetic as these grazed in some valleys abundant with the leaves of a particular bush which was later identified as tea. Recently, I was told by an erudite scholar that the habit of drinking tea was adopted and popularized by King Solomon. In Islamic literature, he is known as the prophet Suleiman. That is how the word “Suleimani” for black tea got its currency in most Arab and South East Asian countries. This evergreen shrub (Camellia sinensis) is said to be native to Asia. Hats off to Asia.

     Kerala, where I come from, we drink black tea, often flavored with spices like pepper, lemon or cardamom, as a stimulant or as a digestive after a heavy, spicy, high-fat dish like biryani. It is also served as a welcome drink for guests during the monsoon and in winter.  In contrast, in Saudi Arabia it is the last course of a feast, with a choice of green or black tea after a heavy “Manthi” (traditional non-spicy rice with mutton or camel meat). According to Wikipedia,“Tea originated in China as a medicinal drink. It came to the West via Portuguese priests and merchants, introduced to it there during the 16th century. Drinking tea became fashionable among Britons during the 17th century,  who introduced the plant to their possessions in India to bypass a Chinese monopoly”.Most of the high-altitude areas in Kerala are covered in tea plantations. Hats off to plantation enthusiasts among the Britons.

     The tea you could see in the picture above comes in a red tin with a lable that reads “CHINA TEA”. It was a gift for my wife from Dr. Jessy and Dr. Muhsin. It is a kind of green tea very famously known  in China and Taiwan as Jasmine tea. It tastes and smells of jasmine with its distinctive aroma and looks green. Initially, I couldn't relate to the idea of smelling jasmine with every sip of tea, simply because I was not used to it. But later I offered it to some guests and they loved it at first sip. It seems to have affected my taste-buds too, to the extent that I am now almost addicted to it. I’m facing a predicament: I have no idea where I can get a fresh supply once the current supply runs out.

     I will most likely teach for the rest of my life. Teaching without a tea is something I can’t imagine - at least for now. A big ‘thank you’ to Mr. and Mrs. Muhsin. And it goes without  saying: a billion hats off to the Chinese. 

Those Marigold Days

 

          

     I was born into a world of Marigolds, and grew up with them. I used to marvel at this romantic monsoon guest in our front yard garden every year. The display of colors it showcased, the fragrance it spread in the surroundings, the bees and butterflies it attracted, the very ambiance it created with its vigorous growth of aromatic rich green leaflets ... what a carnival this created in my little world of wonder.

 The monsoon was a kind of fajr azan (morning call for prayer from mosques) for the Marigold in hibernation. All the seeds lying buried under a thin layer of dust coated in dry leaves emerged after the first drop of rain. The growth of the vegetation after the first rains blanketed an entire geography in emerald green. Nothing amazed me more after the daily light, sound and color show of dusk and dawn giving a backdrop to the day-night transition rituals of every day. The first drop of rain, the exotic scent of the soil, the variety of resurfacing herbs, weeds, tubers and creepers majestically accompanied the return of the Queen.

The Marigold shows no signs of irritation even though it was disturbed from its deep sleep. Shooting new leaves with beautiful patterns into the air, it erects its stem boldly to bear blossom buds. The very experience of watching its life-cycle from sprouting through to drying in the early spring taught me what my books couldn’t. Much later in my life, my science mentor Dr. Paul told me one of his friends had done research on the mosquito-repellent properties of Marigolds. I recently stumbled upon a website that attests to this fact. Here is an extract.

  “Marigolds are a great choice for repelling mosquitoes. Marigolds contain Pyrethrum, an ingredient found in many insect repellents, and they have a unique aroma which bugs find repulsive. The flowers themselves are beautiful and can make a great border or addition to any flower bed! Try placing them around borders of your home, and mosquitoes might not want to cross over!”  (Taylor) 

http://www.naturallivingideas.com/11-plants-that-repel-mosquitoes/

 Well, last year I brought home and planted a few Marigold seeds carefully collected from well-grown, mature plants after their season had run its course, courtesy the Abha municipality gardeners. That was the way we collected seeds in the village where I am from in India. To my dismay, none sprouted. I remembered those two ominous words again after twenty years: terminator genes. Had they been activated here, the terminator genes my science bible was warning me about?  Even in the home garden? Maybe my prayers had not been heard, or if they had been heard, maybe they had not been granted by Divine Providence?  To what extent will humankind’s greed for profits make it do things that will eventually take it to the grave? 

   When I was in school, I read about terminator genes in our local language science magazine “Sasthrakeralam” for the first time. Terminator genes had been developed by a few wicked scientists.  I have no idea if the magazine still exists. At the time, it was a kind of bible for those kids interested in science. It warned about the nightmare the invention could inflict on farmers once the seed companies patented their invention. Not only on farmers, though, but eventually on all of humanity.

‘’Terminator technology is the genetic modification of plants to make them produce sterile seeds. They are also known as suicide seeds. Terminator's official name – used by the UN and scientists – is Genetic Use Restriction Technologies’ (GURTs).’’   

             http://www.progressio.org.uk/content/what-terminator-technology

 

    I always prayed for it never to come true. You may wonder why I chose to pray. As a boy from an orthodox middle class family, that was the only solution I could think of then. Even now it is the best solution I can think of.  Humankind is on a collision course, unstoppable seemingly – and it will require nothing short of a miracle – divine intervention – to avert a looming disaster.

Works Cited:

    1. http://www.progressio.org.uk/content/what-terminator-technology. n.d. documents. 28 February 2015.

     2. Taylor, Janice. http://www.naturallivingideas.com/11-plants-that-repel-mosquitoes/. 13 March 2014. document. 28 February 2015.