The Spirit Carries On

The journey continues. The quest for true knowledge though, eludes me. Was this the way it was went to be? As they say, you have to know what the system is and how it runs, to effectively get out of it and possibly fight it. The second semester at TISS has been brewed with familiarities unlike the first. The same old faces, the same 'old' alcohol, songs and the discussion that follows, hurt egos and everything that you associate with life. Sports brought fresh new life into the college only to be killed by flak by the so called anti-engineering movement.1  Do I know what education is now? Do I feel 'educated'? How different is it from engineering? I do not know to what extent I can answer that. Nor am I entitled to voice an opinion against this 'idea' of education that linger in my...

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Neil Postman's Amusing Ourselves To Death

As a part of "Audience studies" course, 1st semester, Media and Cultural Studies, Tata Institute of Social sciences. “Amusing ourselves to death” by Neil Postman was first published in 1985, more than 25 years ago, when television in India was still a commodity that only the elite could afford. Hence his work, though increasingly speaking to an American audience with his references about TV shows like ‘The Newshour’, can still be perceived as fresh and relevant in our country. Moreover, like his son Andrew Postman wrote in his introduction for the twentieth anniversary edition of the book, the beauty of the book lies in how we can relate the fetishization of TV in the past few decades with the new age amusement for platforms like the internet.  The...

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TISS Against 377

After the outrageous ruling by the supreme court, which criminalised "unnatural sex" (article 377) overturning Delhi high court's ruling in 2009, TISS has been consistently fighting for the rights. The re criminalising of "unnaturalness" (as they claim) is a gross violation of basic human rights, not just for the LGBTQ but for every human in the country.Some photos of our first gathering near the dining hall in TISS campus ...

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That Halloween Night

Sarppakavu. Photograph via http://www.trekearth.com I do not keep track of the dates. Everyday is another twenty four hours to me. Be it Sunday or Friday. Which probably explain why I was outside on a Halloween night trying out some photography. I do not believe in Halloween. It has always been something Americans did on certain nights, though India like every other thing, have started copying the western fascination for pumpkin headed ghosts. But the question is, do I believe in ghosts? The super natural. Its a fascinating question, perhaps what pushed me to blogging in the first place was a need to put forward some theories I had about afterlife and multiverse.Almost all my life, I've spent in the corner of the Ernakulam...

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Dear Daughter

Live your life to the fullest my dear, Go out there and challenge the norms. Make love, make merry and see the world. Loiter when the moon is out And fight them if they ask you why. They will push you, scare you, And always discourage you. But what more can they do? That they curse you to hell? But don't you see my little child, That we already live in one. ...

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A requiem

Life as such is hard at TISS. Day and night they make me work. Periodically filling me with more and more 'duties'. Many times I protested. Squealed, squeaked, coughed out smoke. All to no use.Last month they 'found' me a partner. Yes, those Kurta wearing social scientists around me who preach about 'choice' and 'love marriage'! But I wasn't complaining. It always feels good to have someone to share things with. Especially work. And my life did become easier for a while. Everyone called us the 'perfect couple'. Spending our days and nights in two separate rooms, serving people - their idea of a honeymoon I suppose. I moved on. What other option did I have anyway? And then it all 'fell apart'. I can't blame him though. Succumbed to the pressure and guilt. Stopped working...Today I work alone....

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Analysing Space : Ground floor on TISS Library

Normal 0 false false false EN-IN X-NONE X-NONE Sir Dorabji Tata Memorial library is perhaps the most ‘happening’ space inside the ‘Old Campus’ during the day time. In the ground floor one can witness loud discussions, people with headphones waving at laptops, ‘under the desk’ romance and amidst all that, people genuinely reading. This is perhaps what intrigued and finally convinced me to analyse the same space after midnight. The reading room can be broadly divided into three sections. The 'couch space' in the eastern corner with glass tables to rest laptops or keep books on. The centre of room has six tables, each with six red chairs around it. And...

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The Other Side Of A Palli Perunnal

Matthew 21:12 : Jesus entered the temple courts and drove out all who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves. Every May life takes a different course for people of Edappally. The “palli perunnal” (festive season at the St. George church) from 31st April to Mid May brings in ‘believers’ from all over the state to this place in the northern end of Cochin Corporation. And with it comes days of terrible traffic management, unofficial power cuts (to supply the Church with the necessary power) and various forms of health hazards. I am not being entirely honest if I say I hate the festive period. I love it when people assemble. These are occasions when people...

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Conversations On a Cliff Top #2

Read the first part here... "What brings you here Ma'am?", I asked, keen on diverting the subject of conversation from my marriage. She smiled and replied, "Why do tourists come here?" "They have their reasons. A friend once told me how 'staring at the sea' helped him 'reclaim his life'.", I said.She laughed and said, "I have something like that in my mind as well. Though I find the word 'reclaim' a little too polarizing." The waiter informed us of the distinct possibility of a storm and asked us to head back to our hotel rooms as soon as possible.I nodded while the lady kept staring at the sea. Strangely, I could sense 'joy' in her face. Anticipation coupled with freedom. The look of a prisoner who had been freed."I've been married for...

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Conversations On a Cliff Top

"My husband I could understand...", she said while taking a sip of the new cup of coffee the waiter had brought. The wind played with her hair, which had been let lose. "He needed help. But it's his family, mine, including my parents who had loved me throughout their lives... It was them. I could never understand why they were so persistent." She kept staring at the sea as she delivered the words in a low monotonous tone. I found myself lost for words. I didn't know to react. Did she want me to react? Or contribute to the argument perhaps? Was I better off as a silent spectator? Fate or as non believers would say "lack of seats" had brought me to this seat facing the lady.  I could not come to a conclusion on what was to be done...

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Everyday I am Shiffining

An original green hero pen. Via www.ioffer.com We all have that story of a lost friend, don't we? Images and experiences lost in that vast world of memories. Those lost 'visions' that pops up in your brain when you least expect it to. The story behind 'Shiffining' is something similar. The relatively newer generation ( because I like to think I belong to the new generation) would find the story a little hard to relate to.  There was a time in our lives when mobile phones and cameras were luxuries that most of our parents could not afford. When 'Hero' fountain pens still meant a lot to kids. Infact it is exactly a green 'Hero dupli' ( a replica of the original pen ) that motivated me to write this article. Shiffin and I first met on...

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The 11th Hour

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