tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74186676274014169062024-03-14T10:23:06.212+05:30RamG Vallath - Bestselling Author, Motivational SpeakerI am the bestselling author of the humorous, inspirational book, 'From Ouch to Oops' and also a motivational speaker. I hope to touch as many lives as possible in a positive fashion. You can also check out my website, www.ramgvallath.com
Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-1183834268982386042014-06-19T15:48:00.004+05:302014-07-02T16:54:21.940+05:30Pluto Fights Back<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X-6iEyErcZo/U6K4xud_SrI/AAAAAAAAAGk/aNQvzIYnyMQ/s1600/pluto-demoted.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X-6iEyErcZo/U6K4xud_SrI/AAAAAAAAAGk/aNQvzIYnyMQ/s1600/pluto-demoted.png" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">24<sup>th</sup>
August 2006 will go down in the annals of history of the Solar System as the
most shameful day in its 4.6 Billion years of existence. In an act of blatant
insensitivity and cruelty, a group of astronomers, calling themselves
International Astronomical Union (IAU) humiliated and excommunicated Pluto from
the elite core group of the Solar system- the Planets. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Pluto, who
had attained the coveted position by sheer grit and perseverance- in spite of
being small in stature- was understandably crushed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But it takes
enormous inner strength to attain Planethood, and Pluto, who had fought hard all
his life to attain this distinction is not planning to give up without a fight.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When this
correspondent met Pluto’s lawyer, Ai Yam Anass, he was livid about the public
humiliation meted out to his client. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">‘We have
directly approached the supreme court for legal redressal,’ said Anass. ‘This
act by the self-proclaimed Astrological Union is most unfortunate. In this
country, we believe in equality. Just because my client is different, it is no
reason to have him summarily booted out. Granted, he has an orbit more
elliptical than normal and that it is tilted 17 degrees from the rest. But
since when has this country started being so opposed to individual differences?
Also, remember, he has managed to grab
and retain five satellites- one of them almost as big as himself. This whole
thing is a conspiracy by the big bullies in the club- Jupiter and Saturn- to
discredit my client. They had even conspired to make him appear to be a dog. But let me tell you, my client is better that either of
them. At least he is solid through and through, unlike those two who are full
of gas.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I gently pointed
out that the biggest reason cited for the demotion was not these, but that
Pluto had been unsuccessful in clearing the smaller objects from his path. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ai Yam Anass
bristled at this. Clearly he felt deeply for his client’s unfair treatment ‘Hello!
Do you know how far away the rest of those cowards are from the Kuiper belt?
While my client is battling the strays from the frozen outbacks of the solar
system, freezing his backside off, the rest of those morons are warming their
posteriors around the sun. Give him some time, I say. Another billion years and
he would have cleared all the Debris. Do you know how many rounds it takes to
clear all debris in the path? My client takes 248 years to make each round. So
Earth has had 248 times the opportunity to clear all other objects in the path’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I asked him
what he felt his chances are in the Supreme Court.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">‘It is a
matter of fundamental rights. Once you discriminate based on size, there is no
stopping. Next they will throw out Mercury, then Mars, then Venus. Finally you
will all wake up when Earth has ceased to be a planet. Pretty silly humanity
will look- being the inhabitants of a Dwarf Planet. Can you imagine the
religious repercussions? The Catholic Church will go nuts. Just four centuries
back, they claimed Earth was the centre of the Universe. From that, coming down
to <i>Dwarf</i> Planet? I tell you, this is the time to take
a stand.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">‘Any
comments from your Client that I can quote?’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> ‘No comments. The matter is <i>sub judice</i>. But take it from me, he is a
great fighter. The Supreme Court has ordered a probe based on our request. The
probe- New Horizons- will send the pictures back by July 2015. Then we will
see. The stupid morons of IAU will have to eat their words,’ said Ai Yam Anass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I wished him
all the best. My heart is with Pluto. After all, no civilised society should
tolerate bullies picking on someone just because of his size. I silently vowed
to get a million Facebook votes for Pluto- the true Planet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-73715704477817623242014-05-18T12:47:00.000+05:302014-05-18T17:51:33.423+05:30I want Modi to Succeed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GNAS7Tze2jA/U3hgV7XFZ6I/AAAAAAAAAGU/6raqkBH4PSU/s1600/Namo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GNAS7Tze2jA/U3hgV7XFZ6I/AAAAAAAAAGU/6raqkBH4PSU/s1600/Namo.png" /></a></div>
Image - courtesy Twitter<br />
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My friends, who know my views on him, must be surprised at
the above statement. Some of them, who have stood shoulder to shoulder with me
intrepidly on numerous Face Book battles, liking each other’s comments and
supporting each other while unbelievably fanatic near psychopaths spewed their
venom online, may feel let down.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Here is the reason why I fervently hope and want Modi to
succeed. (Not that what I say or believe matter a damn in the larger scheme of
things, but I like to write about my feelings and this is an attempt at sharply
defining what I feel)<o:p></o:p></div>
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India, and 1.2 billion people deserve a break. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We deserve a break from corruption, a divided and hence
paralyzed government, a powerless prime minister and a totally incompetent,
removed from reality and arrogant mother-son combination, which seems to be the
only rallying point for a once great party. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But have I changed colours and started loving the man? No.
Never. Not even if the country turns around hundred and eighty degrees under
his stewardship.<o:p></o:p></div>
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What has shocked me in the last one year and amazed me in
the last two months is the way a vast majority of middle class Indians have
completely blocked their minds out from Modi’s history. He did not earn his
wings as a messiah of development. He earned it as a hard line Hindu fanatic who
was part of the core group which engineered <i>rath
yaatra</i>s and destruction of mosques. He was also (to give him the benefit of
doubt) the chief minister who let mobs run riot while the minorities in his
state were butchered. <o:p></o:p></div>
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He established the foundation of his popularity first as a
hard line Hindu, an extreme right winger. Once that was established only he
moved on to the next phase- that of establishing himself as a development wiz. <o:p></o:p></div>
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There is no doubt that he is a superb administrator,
extremely hardworking, personally corruption free, highly efficient and very
astute (even without having to compare with the bungling idiots on the other
side). As important is the fact that he is an amazing orator who can eat the
entire opposition for breakfast. To top it all, he has the smartness, no,
brilliance to create a powerful brand. <o:p></o:p></div>
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So I have been torn inside- should I admire this man who has
so many admirable qualities and blank out his past in my mind as so many of my
friends have done? Should I also think that what he did was for the larger good
and forgive the glaring blots? For there is no doubt again that he will be a
far more effective Prime Minister and that there is a very high probability
that he will pull the country out of the mess that we are in. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But if I do that, if I join the milling hysterical crowd
that is singing paeans to him and glorifying him and deifying him, what example
would I be setting for my children? That it is OK to perpetrate horrible and
shameful deeds to some people as long as you achieve some good for most other
people in the end? That means always justify the end? That someone with such a
huge questionable past who stood for everything that is against the plural
nature of our constitution can become the Prime Minister of India? That we
should all remember that ‘<i>Jo Jeeta, Wohi
Sikandar</i>’? <o:p></o:p></div>
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As I watch friend after friend and relative after relative
succumb to the frenzy, I feel sad and shocked. Sad that there are so many who
are willing to forget those unfortunates who lost their lives and their
families to the hard line nature of Hindutva which Modi represents, just
because they feel that their own future is now brighter. (And I don’t doubt an iota
that it is brighter). I feel so sad that the media which had staunchly tried
for many years to point out the dangers of Modi has suddenly done a volte-face
in the last three months and hope that this had nothing to do with the alleged Rs.5000
crore communication budget of Brand Modi. How many times have I fervently
wished that Modi was not a Hardline Hindu fanatic or at least that the pogrom
of 2002 had never happened so that I can also join the crowd.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am shocked at statements such as ‘See, how inclusive and
balanced, his speech is? He is no hardliner.’ Or ‘He has not once mentioned
Hindutva or Ayodhya. He is so balanced’. Can’t people see that he is a
brilliant strategist and a consummate actor? He knows that there is no need to
do the hard line act anymore- those hard line voters were won over when he / his ilk did
Ayodhya and later the riots. He knows that now he should just focus on getting
the apathetic, middle liners. <o:p></o:p></div>
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At the same time, I am also hopeful that this regime will, once
and for all, stop- through legal means- the hardliners of some minority
communities that dish out fatwas and believe they are a law unto themselves.
The hardliners who used to get away scot-free because of vote bank politics. I
hope the regime can bring about one Indian law, applicable to all. I am
incredibly hopeful by the <i>shauchalaya</i>
over <i>devalaya </i>decision that he has
intrepidly taken, backing development over hard line policies. <o:p></o:p></div>
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My humble request to all at this juncture is only this. Even
while we all pray that Modi succeeds for our own good, let us not forget the
path that he tread was dangerous and scary. It is even more worrying because he
is efficient, effective, charismatic and astute and can sway the masses. Let
us, as a people promise to ourselves that we will not let him return to his
roots if the vagaries of global economy makes his development agenda less
effective than it deserves to be- even while hoping that he has genuinely
learned and grown; let us promise ourselves to rise up and fearlessly quell
rabid behaviour if it rears its ugly head again; because the easiest thing to
do if the development agenda does not work would be to polarise the nation
again to stay on in power. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Narendra Modi is here to stay; maybe for the next 15 years
as a Prime Minister of this country. I hope fervently that he succeeds in his
development agenda.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-90429752166833655562014-02-05T21:44:00.000+05:302014-07-04T09:33:54.993+05:30The rise and rise of the eRamamurti - The amazing adventures of a Tamil Brahmin-Part II<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US">You have doubtless read my little piece titled
‘the amazing adventures of a Tamil Brahmin’, based on the real life adventures
of Appa, my father-in-law. In case you are one of the unfortunate few who have
not, I strongly suggest you desist from revealing this in public. Instead you
can quickly read through it here <a href="http://ramgvallath.blogspot.in/2010/01/amazing-adventures-of-tamil-brahmin-aka.html">http://ramgvallath.blogspot.in/2010/01/amazing-adventures-of-tamil-brahmin-aka.html</a>
and hold your head up proudly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">The ones who did read the original piece
must have been wondering whether after a glorious start, Appa fizzled out into
obscurity, since no further updates of his adventures were shared. If so, they
are gravely mistaken. Appa has moved from strength to strength, delivering more
than the initial promise. I can see that you are upset that I have not kept
you, my faithful reader, posted on the progress. It is just that after those
initial years when Appa was taking roots in my life, I got rather busy with
corporate life, bringing up two brats, contracting an auto immune disorder,
writing books, stem cell transplant etc. and have not had time to chronicle the
continued adventures of Mr. Ramamurti – ie. Appa. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">But I think now it is time to release a
refresher capsule. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">If you recall, I had described Appa as a
meek and god-fearing sort of chap whose most aggressive behavior was cancelling
Economic Times on weekends behind my back. But he soon surprised me with his
audacity and risk taking ability when he deigned to try out Appam, a totally
Malayali dish for breakfast. This coming from a man who has eaten only rice and
rasam for lunch every day for over twenty years! That moment, I realized there
was more to Appa than meets the eye. I pulled out the competency framework I
had used to evaluate Appa, and against the attribute ‘Risk taking ability’,
where I had written ‘are you kidding?’ I wrote ‘needs further observation’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">And observe him I did, closely- without the
man ever feeling that he was under constant scrutiny. But my scrutiny was
woefully inadequate. Appa surprised me again. Five years into my marriage, one
evening he proudly announced to Jayu and I that he had just got his four
wheeler license. I ogled at the man, stunned. He was sixty seven at that time
and used to wince every time I accelerated the car to above forty kilometer per
hour! This same man had enrolled himself secretly in a driving school, learned
how to drive and had actually got himself a driving license. He did this so
that he could drive little Ananya to school, he confided to us. I whipped out
the competency framework and scratched out the ‘needs further observation’. I
changed it to ‘Oh My God!’ (OMG was not invented in those days).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Appa continued relentlessly to surprise me.
Somewhere in the mid of the last decade, he adopted the cell phone. The primary
use was to call me every time I was to go on any tour directly from office to
ask me ‘You have left office no, RamG?’ ‘Have you taken your wallet and
laptop?’ ‘What about the ticket?’ and ‘Have you checked in RamG?’ or he would
call home whenever he was travelling to ask ‘Have the children left for
school?’ ‘Has the gas been switched off?’ ‘Children are OK, no?’ and ‘How is
your cold, RamG?’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">He quickly migrated up to the next level of
tech-saviness and started sending SMSs. We started receiving messages such as
‘boarded. All well’ and ‘will reach in one hour. Latha can keep rasam’ etc. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Ramamurti made the successful
transformation to eRamamurti when he asked Jayu to create an email ID for him.
I was amazed at his willingness to keep conquering new technologies. I had to
smile indulgently when he started bombarding us with mail forwards of jokes
which had been doing the rounds for years and which he must have come across
for the first time now in his e-enabled avatar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">But eRamamurti would not stop there. He
pestered Advay to open a Facebook account for him and jumped to the cutting
edge of social media. By now, I had stopped being surprised by anything Appa
did. I guess it is just this sense of openness to adapt and change which made
him accept me wholeheartedly as his son-in-law, in spite of our huge
differences. The same ability to adapt which made him accept the fact that the
kids and I have non-veg at home. The same adaptability which has made him totally comfortable with his
Tamil and Malayalam TV programs and his <i>bhajan</i>-chanting
in his room while he lets us lead our drastically different lifestyle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">The only trouble was that with eRamamurti
now dabbling around with a Blackberry, an iPod, a laptop and a desktop, every
once in a while he would run into a tech problem which would stump him. The
kids, occupied with their own stuff, would not solve his problems immediately.
Then he would come to me, humbly requesting me in his own self-deprecating way
to help him out whenever I had a moment to spare. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I have laid down one rule for myself-
Appa’s slightest need would take priority over anything else I am doing. I have
also told the kids the same thing. Since he is the last person to impose
himself on others, he comes to us for help only when he has absolutely no other
option, and that too after hesitating many times. As the eldest member of the
house, he should know that his slightest wish is our command. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">If he holds on to the current trajectory, I
am sure that he will be editing videos and mixing music soon. I am waiting for
the day when one fine morning, he will greet me with a high five and ‘Yo, sup
dude!’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-8701005277878853002013-04-01T07:02:00.003+05:302015-07-19T20:18:06.609+05:30My struggle with CIDP- an autoimmune disorder<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(You can also visit my webpage <a href="http://www.ramgvallath.com/" target="_blank">www.ramgvallath.com</a>)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was thirty
three and on top of the world when the niggling worry started. It was quite a
small worry in the beginning. I found that my hand would tremble when I was
holding up a spoon, a plate, a glass of beer etc. My original self-diagnosis
was that this was caused by work related stress. When one becomes a country
manager at 31, apart from being on top of the world, the by-product is stress.
And when at 33, I had moved into a telecom operation as head of sales and
marketing, the effect was approximately like moving from the frying pan into
the fire. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But stress
did not explain the loss of balance I used to face while climbing down stairs,
which was a second symptom that had started developing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But being
very busy climbing the corporate ladder (I became one of the youngest COOs in a
telecom operation in couple of years), I ignored the symptoms. Finally, when I
did meet a doctor, he examined me and said I was perfectly all right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In the next
two years, the condition quickly worsened. My fingers started losing their
strength and it also became difficult for me to climb up stairs. The <st1:stockticker w:st="on">COO</st1:stockticker> of a state telecom operation was a reasonably
high profile position. I would be invited for events etc. and would feel a cold
clammy feeling at the pit of my stomach if this involved climbing up on to a
stage. I would be petrified of falling and would pray to god every step of the
way. (Imagine being the chief guest at the Cochin Naval Ball and spending the
whole time worrying about how I would climb up the stage instead of admiring
the beauties I was judging.) I also
found it difficult to do anything which required fine motor coordination, like
putting on buttons. I had to stop driving, an activity which I loved.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Over the
next 4 years, the condition steadily worsened and I had to move roles so that I
could still manage to deliver on my job. In the meanwhile, I had couple of more
wrong diagnoses from doctors and was told that the condition was genetic and
without any treatment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was then
that my uncle Dr. Balakrishnan, a renowned doctor, helped me set up an
appointment with the HOD of neurology at Amrita Institute in Cochin. Dr. Ananthakumar
examined me and indicated that the condition was not congenital but was an
acquired disorder called CIDP. To be 100% sure, he did a nerve biopsy. While
waiting for the biopsy result, one day I contracted a viral fever. This
triggered an acute case of the condition and I was laid up for about nine days.
I could not lift my hands, sit up or even talk. Luckily, an angel by the name
of Dr. Monica Thomas, whom I had never met before and who was referred to us by Dr. Ananthakumar, took the trouble to come all the way to my house after a
full day’s work. She took one look at me and confirmed the condition as CIDP.
She got me admitted in a hospital. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">CIDP is an
autoimmune disorder- Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy. My own
immune system was attacking my peripheral nerves and they were losing their
conductivity. This in turn was making my muscles useless and over a period of
time, they were fading away. For the first time in seven years there was a
tangible condition that I could fight. The standard treatment for the condition
was to take an intravenous medication called IVIG. A full course was 2mg/Kg of
weight which in my case worked out to 160mg. This had to be taken over five
days. It cost 6 lacs!! An enormous sum. But at the end of the five days, I was
way better and over the next week, my body became almost completely fine. I was
better than I had ever been for the previous five years. I was on top of the
world. I ran up ten flights of stairs in my office, cooked pizzas for my kids and
buttoned up all the shirts I wanted! But in 45 days, the condition went
crashing down again. The effect of the magic potion had worn off. The doctor had not warned me of this. For me,
who thought the whole issue was behind me, this came as the rudest shock. I met
the doctor again. He suggested I start on steroids. Steroids would suppress my
immunity, and this would lead to an improvement in the condition. He also
recommended another dose of IVIG. This time I took a fifth of the first dose,
since we couldn’t afford to spend on a complete dosage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Over the
next 3 years, I took IVIG once every two months. The effect kept waning and I
had to take it even more frequently. The dosage of steroids had to keep
increasing from 30mg per day to 40, 50, 60 and finally 80. I bloated up like a
balloon and put on about 14 kilos. My eyesight started fading (an effect of the
steroid and I finally had to undergo a cataract operation). In spite of all the
medication, the condition steadily worsened. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Before the
condition, I had always walked with a spring in my steps. Now I could barely
lift my legs. I couldn’t lift any weight. My wrist started flopping – it couldn’t
even lift the weight of my hands. My left foot started dropping – the ankle
muscle stopped responding. I had to lift the leg up high and place it forward
to avoid tripping over a flopping foot. It became impossible to button up my
shirts. When travelling, I had to wake up at 5.30 am for an 8 am meeting, since
it would take me 90 minutes to put on five buttons. Finally I had to stitch
special shirts with concealed press buttons with dummy buttons stitched on
outside. The worst was when I had to go to the urinal. It would take time to
find the zip with my nerveless fingers. And often, after the job was done, it
would take as high as ten to fifteen minutes to zip back up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Through all
this, there were a few important rules I created for myself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Never ever think of what could have
been.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Always be cheerful and be the
provider of cheer – at home, at work...</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Actively seek solution instead of
moaning about the problem.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;">At work, always do more than what is
expected of you.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;">T</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;">hank god every day for a wonderful
family, great friends, relatives and above all, for my unconquerable spirit.</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">I would keep
pushing myself to walk, exercise, do yoga etc., while continuously searching
for solutions on the web.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Finally on
one of my internet researches, I came across a clinical trial that was going on
at Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago. I reached out to them and the
nurse got back immediately with all the details of the program. We also heard
from her that the doctor, Dr. Richard Burt, the head of the Division of Immunotherapy
& Autoimmune Diseases (DIAD) at Northwestern was slated to come to India
for a talk. (<a href="http://www.stemcell-immunotherapy.com/index.html">http://www.stemcell-immunotherapy.com/index.html</a>)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We attended
the talk and he was kind enough to have dinner with us. He was as humble and
down to earth as his achievements were lofty and life changing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Over the years,
he had treated many of the autoimmune disorders for which there were no real
cures. These included Multiple Sclerosis (MS), Diabetes, Lupus, Crohn’s,
Rheumatoid Arthritis, Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy (CIDP),
Phemphigus, Dermatomyositis, Devic’s, Myasthenia Gravis, Polymositis and
Scleroderma. He had given life back to many patients without any hope. Jayu (my
wife) and I discussed and decided it was worth going for this. The procedure
was ‘Autologous Nonmyeloablative Hematopoietic Stem
Cell Transplant’. A mouthful, I agree! But what it meant was usage of one’s own
blood cell producing Stem Cells to regenerate one’s blood cells. The term
non-myeloablative meant the dosage of chemo was not very aggressive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The whole
evaluation and treatment had to be in Chicago, spread out over 10 weeks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For Jayu and
I, the trip was in a way a nice holiday too. We enjoyed the stay at Chicago,
right in the middle of the Magnificent Mile. Even though there was so much
uncertainty, it was also a time of intense hope. The fact that my classmate
couple, Manish and Radhika and another classmate Sridhar and his wife Vasudha
made every effort to make us completely comfortable in Chicago helped hugely. Skype
to our parents and children and family also kept us connected to loved ones and
their best wishes and prayers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The first
2-3 weeks was for evaluation- to make absolutely sure that the condition was
CIDP. This was followed by mobilization – where a dose of chemo was injected
into the body to stimulate production of Stem Cells. About ten days later,
sufficient quantity of Stem Cells were then harvested and kept aside. Then four
weeks later, the actual treatment started. This included injecting chemo and
certain other substances into the body to completely knock out the entre immune
system. After this, the Stem Cells were re-injected into the body and within
about ten days, I was discharged. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The staff at
Northwestern was amazing. The nurses were the most professional I had ever seen
in my life. Even in the hospital, the doctor was considered to be a miracle
worker. But more than anything, he was a wonderful person: sensitive,
empathetic and extremely knowledgeable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">By the last
four days in the hospital, I could start feeling my body responding. My will,
which was long shackled inside an unresponsive body, exulted. I embarked on a
rigorous exercise routine.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Back home,
over the next year, I set myself a blistering target to recover my lost
muscles. I created a target sheet with daily increasing targets for the next
six months for 28 different muscle work outs. Then, every day I pushed myself
to do better than the target. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2B9CM4ocl_M/UVgHdz-9-BI/AAAAAAAAADE/2yfl1ePvt_k/s1600/before+and+after.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2B9CM4ocl_M/UVgHdz-9-BI/AAAAAAAAADE/2yfl1ePvt_k/s640/before+and+after.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The fact I was writing my first book – Oops the Mighty Gurgle gave me a huge mental push. The book was so wacky, funny and totally in the realm of the absurd that writing it kept my spirits soaring high. I jokingly tell my friends that it was a mix of the chemo and the rat and rabbit extracts that were pumped into me that made me write such a crazy wacky nutty novel. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mxRwRA2JAwc/UVjid33_hmI/AAAAAAAAADU/ULqcAjB4BB4/s1600/oops+cover.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mxRwRA2JAwc/UVjid33_hmI/AAAAAAAAADU/ULqcAjB4BB4/s320/oops+cover.JPG" width="207" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <a href="http://www.oopsthegurgle.com/">www.oopsthegurgle.com</a></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I have been
trying ever since to get some of the major hospitals in India interested in the
treatment and collaboration with Dr. Burt so that many more persons could have
access to this life changing treatment. I have run up against walls, but will
not stop trying. In the meanwhile, I would like to spread awareness about this
treatment to as many people as possible. If they can afford the treatment (it is
expensive), they should consider this seriously. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Today, I
have almost completely regained most of my motor abilities. I can button up my
shirts, drive a car, lift weights, travel alone, climb up steps without holding
on to railings and can lead a pretty much normal life. I still can’t run or
type very fast. My handwriting still sucks. But I am, to use a slang,
rocking. I am on my second book, am consulting in the education domain and give
motivational talks based on my life’s experiences. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I continue
to thank god for my wonderful wife, my lovely kids, my relatives, my friends, and
my never say die spirit. But most of all, I thank god for Dr.Richard Burt and
the wonderful work that he is doing, saving hundreds of lives every year. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I can be
contacted on my email ID <a href="mailto:rvallath@yahoo.com">rvallath@yahoo.com</a>
and will be delighted to extend whatever help I can to anyone who is suffering from any autoimmune
disorder. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <b>The following is an update from 15th July 2015</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I have been incredibly lucky that I have managed to transform my life and reinvent myself. Today, my second book, 'From Ouch to Oops' has become a bestseller. Over the last three years, I have addressed more than 10,000 school students, about 1000 college students and about 20,000 corporate employees; my message- every downturn can be converted into a stepping stone for success. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The book is available on <a href="http://amzn.to/1J6Kpqi" target="_blank">http://amzn.to/1J6Kpqi</a>. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I have attached a small video about the book.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/u0NGoaJhHOQ/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/u0NGoaJhHOQ?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Even though my condition has marginally relapsed, I have been able to keep it under control using Cellcept. I continue to fill every moment of my life with positive things to do- my writing, my talks, my science learning, my editorial work for a science magazine, the strat up I work in etc. This keeps me charged up and ensures that I never ever feel negative or look at what could have been. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.4666652679443px;">(You can also visit my webpage <a href="http://www.ramgvallath.com/" target="_blank">www.ramgvallath.com</a>)</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.4666652679443px;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-85520190552857683872013-03-14T17:55:00.002+05:302013-04-01T06:49:51.985+05:30The Birth of Pi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">God was
delighted. It was during these times of intense creativity that he found
himself happiest. The pleasure of creating something from completely nothing
was incomparable. It was way more interesting than maintaining and managing a
running system. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He had a lot
of plans for this cycle of the universe; things he had been planning for eons
during the last cycle. In fact, it was with a lot of glee that he had embarked
on the last Big Crunch- take it all back to nothing and start building again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The previous
day, he had given shape to the basic structure. He had decided on what
percentage of the universe should be matter and what percentage energy. Then
with a wicked grin, he had made 78% of it invisible – let them try and figure
that out! They might call it dark energy and dark matter for all he knew!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Later on, he
put in his latest inventions – protons. He liked their positive nature. But then
he also had to add equal number of electrons. He did that reluctantly, frowning
at their negativity. Once the basic building blocks were ready, he had wound up
for the first day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was on
the second day that he added shapes- all the potential shapes that could
exist in this cycle of the universe. The easiest was the triangle. He liked the
three-sides-three-angles shape. Quite simple and basic. Besides, he liked the
number three. The rectangle was a tad
more complex but logical after the creation of the triangle. Step by step, he
created the pentagon, the hexagon etc. As he created each shape, he fed that into
the production server. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was right
at the end that he had the brainwave. He had visualized a completely new shape.
It was more symmetrical than any shape before that. It was simple, elegant and curvaceous.
It was a masterpiece of creation. Its sheer symmetry and beauty took his breath
away. As he created the prototype, he looked at the properties on his computer –
it was perfect. The perimeter was always proportional to a straight line drawn
between any two points of the shape, passing through the center. He decided to
call such a line the diameter. In fact, what delighted him most was that the
perimeter to diameter ratio was a perfect number – three - irrespective of the
size of the shape. God permitted himself the luxury of rubbing his hands in
glee (thereby inadvertently also creating electricity). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He would now
upload this perfect shape into the production server. He looked at the console –
the magic ratio, 3, was visible on the screen. He hesitated a moment before
pressing the button, drinking in the number.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was at
that precise moment that his pesky little brother, Devil barged into the
workshop. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">‘Dude, what
is this amazing shape?’ he asked lunging at the perfect shape. As God’s finger
pressed the button, devil touched the shape, which immediately lost its
perfection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">God stared
at the screen aghast. It said...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Uploaded</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Shape –
Circle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Perimeter to
Diameter ratio – 3.1415926535… Oh damn, it doesn't stop!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-20101234177067853072012-10-24T12:07:00.001+05:302013-04-08T09:34:51.057+05:30The Pesky Little ‘I’<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love writing. To me it is an extension of storytelling and
I always loved story telling; especially telling the kind of completely
nonsensical stories which would keep kids on the edge of their seats, clutching
their sides and laughing hysterically. But there are some serious differences
between spontaneously telling a story and writing a Novel. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my case, these differences are slightly less. For
example, most authors, I believe plan their plot in advance and have their
characters fleshed out and gnashing their teeth, raring to go even before the
first word is written. In my case, Oops the gurgle had to take his bamboozler
out of his pocket and aim it at his opponent, before I decided whether Oops
wanted to erase his memory, freeze him into an icicle or just give him a gentle
tickle. In the dark planet, when all lights suddenly go out, I rack my gray
cells to figure out if a slimy slithery 20 foot slug should devour the
protagonists or whether invisible creatures should laugh ghoulishly at them.
Basically what I am trying to drive at is that I write novels, much like I tell
stories; on the spur of the moment. I find this keeps me mentally alert and
gives me batting practice to face all the googlies life throws at me <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But this was where the crux of the problem lay. It was when
I tried to make the novel conversational and free flowing that a completely
unwanted character reared its puny little head. It was ‘I’. ‘I’ slipped into
the story completely without warning at several places. Normally, I wouldn’t
have minded ‘I’ jumping in to hog the credit for a particularly juicy anecdote
or to relate a really funny incident. But when I sent the manuscript to my
editor, the primary platypus, Sayoni completely booted ‘I’ out. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The omniscient first person is completely unacceptable. Please
see to it that he stays out,” she told me sternly. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I bridled. I pretended as if I really cared for ‘I’ and just
couldn’t chuck him out. “After all,” I told the platypus “this is my writing
style. ‘I’ has to make an appearance every once in a while to build rapport with
the reader.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The platypus was at heart quite soft and supportive of poor
struggling authors. I could hear heavy silence from the other end of the phone.
The platypus was presumably swishing her tail in consternation. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally, after I went to the extent of telling her “without ‘I’
piping in from time to time, I feel like I am reading someone else’s work,” she
agreed to keep the guy in. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you are now
thinking, “Yay, RamG, way to go. This is how the oppressed classes (authors)
should assert themselves with the oppressors (editors/publishers),” you are
jumping to conclusions. Sayoni the platypus, who has seen many an author and
who is well versed with various tactics of bringing a rebellious author under
control was far subtler than I thought. She sent my manuscript to a critic.
After a week, I got a forwarded mail from Sayoni. Mind you, a simple forwarding of the critic’s
mail to her with no comments whatsoever of her own.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It said – “the book had me in complete splits. But I don’t
know how to say this, every time I got really immersed in the plot and was chewing
my nails off, a wise guy would suddenly spring up and start making funny
comments. A bit like God. Are authors supposed to do that? Can we keep him out,
please?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I read and re-read the forwarded mail. I knew when I was
defeated. I decided to boot ‘I’ out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Easier said than done. I had to break the news to ‘I’. ‘I’ was completely pissed when I broke the
news. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Dude, first of all, you promised an autobiography in which ‘I’
would appear at least once per sentence. I was so thrilled. Then you completely
welshed and went and wrote some idiotic book on beings with brains in their bottoms
and other such crazy stuff, thereby banishing ‘I’ completely. You can’t blame
me for trying to sneak in a few times! Have a heart.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I felt sorry for the poor guy. I could see his point. I was
the one who had given him hopes of a book full of him by promising an
autobiography. At the same time, I knew that it would be idiotic not to take
the advice of the wise platypus. Finally after racking my brain for several
seconds, I came up with an unbelievably amazing solution. All I had to do was to add an asterisk (the star
thingy, not Obelix’s friend) wherever ‘I’ used to be. Then ‘I’ could come in
with his wisecracks as footnotes. ‘I’ was thrilled with the suggestion. So was
the platypus. Peace reigned throughout. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">But
I know this is temporary. If I don’t come up with an autobiography and give ‘I’
squatting rights in every sentence, ‘I’ would be really unhappy. What is more,
I knew ‘I’ would also rope in ‘me’, ‘mine’, ‘us’ and ‘our’ into the conflict.
If I were ‘I’, I know that ‘I’ would do exactly that.</span></div>
Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-65250545264915249962012-10-15T09:29:00.001+05:302013-04-08T09:36:08.156+05:30The Snaring of the Platypus<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I admit I have let you all down with a resounding thud.
After promising a post every week to my millions of admirers, I blatantly went
back on my word and stopped posting for well over six months. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my defense, I must humbly point out that in my last post,
I had promised to share how I managed to snare this extremely rare breed called
a publisher. But having proclaimed this intention well before actually bagging
the creature, I had to lie low and pretend to blend into the background till
the trap was finally sprung. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, I am the proud
possessor of a publisher- squirming and thrashing, no doubt, but firmly in my
grip and unlikely to escape. Now I believe I am ready to share the gripping
saga of my publisher hunt.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was in October of 2011 that I typed ‘the end’ and
officially declared my first novel complete. Even as I wiped the sweat off my
brow, I had already embarked on the next step – that of finding a publisher or
literary agent. Since I was absolutely convinced that my book was superior to
anything ever written or anything that could possibly be written in the future,
I would settle only for the best publisher. Ok, Ok, I am sure you must be
muttering arrogant so-and-so on reading the last line, but I would place the
blame squarely at the doorsteps of my informal editors, friend Anjali Nair, and my
sister-in-law Shubha (even though she
lost steam half way through)who both kept raving about my book. Being an
eternal optimist, I decided to ignore the lukewarm response of my cousin Nandu
and the extremely positive but not ecstatic response of my young friend Vidyuth. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And thus started the quest. Having written a young adult
book of international appeal, I decided to first search for a publisher in UK
or USA. There was a small glitch, of course – a vast majority of these
dinosaurs accepted only hard copies of the manuscript. Having learned from J K
Rowling that to become a great author, one had to at least get 13 rejections,
and considering the money and effort that takes to courier 14 separate
envelopes to the US and UK, I decided to focus only on those few who accepted
email submissions. Fortunately, my prime target, Christopher Little (he was
JKR’s agent) was among them. I sent off my manuscript to all of two publishers
and Christopher Little and waited. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the meanwhile I also deigned to look at Indian publishers.
I did extensive web research and figured out the whole process of snaring a
publisher. It goes roughly as follows…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Go to the web and research out the names of the publishers
of all the famous books you know…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Ask your friends and their friends if they have any
contacts with these publishing houses…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Cry when you realize that friends do not have connections
to really big time publishers…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Settle for whatever and get introduced through
aforementioned friends or friends’ friends…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Send your synopsis to all the aforementioned publishers…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Send synopsis also to all other publishers and agents in
the country not in the contact list…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Curse your cousin BalC who worked in the company called
Synopsys when you realize that you have miss-spelt the word synopsis in all
your mails…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Wait week after week for rejections to pour in, pretending
you are aiming for 13 rejections…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Write stupid blogs about how one is about to get
published…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Get polite rejection from Christopher Little and mutter
‘No wonder JKR sacked him’…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Get impatient and start the process of self publishing
through Createspace, coughing up an enormous sum of $3000, muttering ‘forgive
them for they know not what they miss’ about the publisher community …</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Chance upon an old friend called P Venky who introduces
you to his friend called Chanty who introduces you to Westland, one of the
leading publishers…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Keep sending reminders to Paul of Westland, thanking god
all the while that he has not responded, being pretty sure that any reply would
be a polite rejection…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Get a mail from a totally strange being called Sayoni
Basu (who later on turns out to be Paul's wife), who calls herself a Primary Platypus of Duckbill Publishers, saying they
are an associate of Westaland, focused on children’s and young adults’
literature and that she loves the manuscript…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Thank god profusely for creating some sensible people like
Sayoni Basu who moreover has the sense of humour to call herself primary platypus instead of a boring Director etc. ...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Fall on your face and accept whatever terms in the
contract with utmost gratitude...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
- Fervently thank god for the strange creature called platypus and the stranger being called primary platypus :-) (Ouch! Sayoni Sorry!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And after intense research, my friends, I have come to the
conclusion that this is the best process towards getting published. Follow it to
a Tee and let me assure you, you can also get your novel published. Of course,
the prerequisite is that you should have written the damn thing to begin with. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-1434318234800465522012-02-27T19:53:00.001+05:302013-04-08T09:39:19.808+05:30My Novel Experience with Authoring<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
You must have all read the story of how, at the tender age
of five, having been egged on by a particularly vicious dog, I was forced to
take up the pen, the mightiest weapon known to man, in an endeavor to quell the
uprising of hoards of marauding canines. (<a href="http://ramgvallath.blogspot.in/2011/12/once-year-to-once-week-5100-growth.html">Take that, and that, and that, and...</a> ) I believe I was reasonably successful in thwarting their dark and evil design,
since all heads of states of all countries still remain essentially human. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Having thus achieved my end, I laid the pen to rest for a
fairly longish period, except for occasional tests and exams, when one had to
revert to using it to scrawl out trigonometry, Archimedes principle, structure
of atom and other such completely useless bits of knowledge in a really abysmal
handwriting. But deep inside me, an author lay trapped within layers of competitive
exams, corporate bullshit and such other forms of rat-race.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was not until very recently that I decided to take up
writing again. This time aided by QWERTY boards, mightier than the pen. So in
between mails on explaining cash flows, setting targets, poking a friend on
face book, churning out idiotic presentations, playing scrabble and making elaborate
XL sheets, I started finding time to blog.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At first, the occasional slips into this aberration were
minimal and controllable– approximately 2.3 times each year, much like how
Dr.Jekyll could control the use of the stuff that could turn him into Mr. Hyde.
But this happy state of affairs was not to last. I left active corporate life
because of an autoimmune disorder. And
like a vicious beast, long shackled within the confines of a polished exterior,
the aspiring author in me was unleashed. My declaration, stating my intent of
spewing the stuff out once a week was received by all my hapless classmates and
FB friends with quaking hearts. The fact that every time I pinged someone or
chatted with someone, I would end the conversation asking them whether they
have read my blog was more than some of them could handle (I believe some of
them opted out of FB) . Even my unknown scrabble opponents would be surprised witless
in the middle of their bingos by me pasting my latest post on the chat box, making them completely
miss their seven letter words with the letters Q,U,A,K, I,N and G. When I started ending every phone call with
the question “have you read my blog?” my wife finally kicked my posterior viciously
and told me enough was enough. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But unknown to them, I was brewing up a far more sinister
and darker plan, that of writing a whole blooming book. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This happened when Jayu and I went for 3 months to Chicago.
The main purpose was for me to undergo a stem cell transplant. (The secondary
purpose was for me to see the Playboy building and the tertiary purpose was to
eat the original deep pan pizza.) So what does one do in between blood tests,
being poked by electrodes and bone marrow biopsies? Writing, of course. So I started off on my
first novel. I was quite focused on this
task and managed to churn out 2-3 pages a day. I was duly encouraged by dear
friends Sridhar, Vasudha, Manish and Radhika, poor unsuspecting souls who had
no idea just how close they were to becoming branded Frankenstein. I completed fifty pages, but was personally,
not happy with the way the plot was developing. It was altogether too serious. There
was no pep in it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then I went in for the actual treatment (17 days). My
body revolted at the chemo and refused any input outside of dry toast. But my
brain, pickled in the purest <i>Old Monk</i> rum and <i>Bullet</i> beer from the age of
16, must have found some kinship with the aforementioned chemo. It must have
been also quite impressed with the mix of rabbit juices and rat juices the
hospital was kind enough to provide intravenously. The fact that the hospital
was miles above any I have ever seen and the Doctor was incredibly good added
to the feeling of well being. And of course, it helped that the nurses,
handpicked to be the best of the best, also looked like angels. Buoyed by the
abovementioned happy circumstances, my brain finally came up with the sweet-spot.
It was ‘out with the serious’ and in with the ‘mad and whacky’. The idea for ‘Oops!’
was born. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Over the next 3 months, aided by the excellent dragon
software, I completed my first novel. Then started the difficult part of the
whole journey. That of getting an unsuspecting soul to read it. Three months down
the line, it remained a fruitless endeavor. Even my kids, even on the pain of
cancellation of all pizza rights, dug in their heels and resisted. Till finally
I found 3 persons (one cousin, one friend and one friend’s son) to actually
read the whole stuff. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But getting a publisher gullible enough to bite on the hook
was a whole different story and shall be recounted in a different blog. (How
else can I stick to my promise of once a week excitement?)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But in case you are sighing with relief, let me warn you. I
am no quitter. You, my poor fish, are going to be hit with the final product
come May. With your best interests at heart, let me give you some friendly
advice. Buy the damn thing and read it. Otherwise, the vicious Mr. Hyde in me
will find expression and I shall track you down to the ends of the earth and
make sure I pain you with a deluge of blogs. </div>
</div>
Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-35249793473048482872012-02-23T22:07:00.000+05:302012-02-23T22:13:02.162+05:30Indian Parliament Passes the Corruption Bill – an Extract from Loony Times<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Feb 23rd, New Delhi : In a move that can change the future course of the nation, the
Indian Parliament has passed the corruption bill. There was jubilation all over
New Delhi as the political class took to the streets to celebrate this first of
its kind legislation. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This is the first time in the history of democracy that a
bill of this magnitude is getting passed,” said Ms.Dancegod, a spokesperson for
the ruling Servile Party. “With this legislation in place, politicians and
bureaucrats alike can focus on nation building instead of wasting time and
energy on negotiating with businessmen.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Breaking her media silence, Ms.Sofar, the chairperson of URA
(United Regressive Alliance) called for a press conference late last evening. “We
are proud of this monumental achievement,” she told the media. Going on to highlight
the specific advantages of the bill, she elaborated, “Now the facilitation fee a
politician or a bureaucrat is entitled to is very clearly outlined in the bill.
The facilitation matrix for various roles and for various types and sizes of
approvals are clearly laid out. Whether the person is a Minister, a MP, a MLA, an undersecretary, or a clerk, the quantum is very clearly defined. Now
there will be no ambiguity and no wasting of time and effort on investigating
bribery charges.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The home minister Mr.Conscioussky made a separate announcement
that with the corruption bill in place, CBI can now be disbanded. “This is
possible, since the law is retrospective and covers all facilitation fees
received in the past 7 years. A skeleton CBI would continue to probe
facilitation fees received prior to 2005. The disbanding of CBI would save
substantial cost to the exchequer and the savings can be ploughed back into
subsidies, ten percent of which has to go back to the political class as facilitation
fees according to the new law. As you can see, there is so much trickle effect
that this law would generate, which would further drive up the economy, making
even more facilitation fee possible. It is an ever increasing virtuous cycle,”
he said. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The law was passed with landslide majority in both houses of
parliament. This followed a late night consensus brought about after hectic
consultation between URA representatives and some of the other party leaders,
namely Ms.Magicwoman of BSP (Bhrashtachar Samaj Party) and Mr. Mercytreasure of
DMK (Dravida Money Kazhagam). As the readers may recall, both BSP and DMK had
opposed the draft, claiming the slabs specified in the bill would considerably
bring down the earnings of their leaders. The finance minister had to broker a
deal finally and a compromise was reached late in the night that the states were
free to impose a surcharge on the facilitation fee over and above what the bill
specified. In return, the Servile Party secured their support for provisions
for an additional surcharge for leaders of foreign origin. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unconfirmed rumors stated that the Prime Minister, Mr.Munmun
Sen was opposed to the bill, but was finally prevailed upon by Ms.Sofar. He
mumbled uncontrollably when contacted by the media. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The leaders of the opposition, Mr.Roon and Ms.Selfrule
trashed the bill as unnecessary. “By fixing slabs for facilitation fees, the
government is trying to infringe on the individuals' right to negotiate and fix
their own rates. This is a dark day for the ruling class”. The other two
prominent leaders of the opposition, Mr.Ladwani and Mr.Noddy were both of the
opinion that the ‘violence against minorities’ act and the 'destruction of places of worship' act should have been given
higher importance than the corruption bill. However, the members of the ‘Karnataka
wing’ of the opposition party were partying late into the night. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The lone dissention from the ruling party was by Sallubhai,
who continued to insist that there should be a provision for a separate quota
for minorities. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is rumored that Pakistani Prime Minister Mr.Gilani was in
touch with sources in the URA to understand the exact provisions of the bill.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Consequent
to the bill being passed, there were rumors that at Raj Ghat, upheavals were
felt. Presumably from Mahatma Gandhi’s ashes turning in their urn. </b></span></div>Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-67467698095495714582012-02-14T20:28:00.002+05:302022-07-12T20:05:01.943+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>
</div>
Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-44759304740675988362012-01-24T10:49:00.002+05:302022-07-12T20:06:21.145+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>
</div>Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-80407044515172394252012-01-16T10:37:00.000+05:302013-04-08T09:41:36.556+05:30The Fundamental Rights of a Malayali<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have just about surfaced from the feeling of abject misery
that one wallows in after returning from an amazing holiday. This feeling of
abject misery permeates ones entire soul at the start of one’s return flight
and continues to grow in intensity in inverse proportion to the distance from
one’s hometown. It hits a peak when one is standing in the long queue in front
of the immigration counter, staring with blank eyes at the surly looking Govt.
official who makes it a point to sneer at you after he looks insultingly in
turn at your well rounded figure and the passport photo taken when you were ten
years younger and about a dozen kilos lighter. The misery is compounded by the
family of 8 who has callously wriggled into the queue ahead of you after
planting an advance guard of one aggressive young woman who was doubtlessly an
Asian Games sprinter and who has established territorial rights over the entire
1<sup>st</sup> to 8<sup>th</sup> position in the queue for her family by being
the first one to reach, much as Chris Columbus did. The misery somewhat abates
after the immigration ordeal, but again peaks when one has to wait endlessly
for one’s baggage with a heart full of dark thoughts about the airport, the
airlines, the ministry of civil aviation, Manmohan Singh, Mahender Singh Dhoni
(because the schmuck lost yet another test that very morning), the man standing
in-front of you scratching his butt and humanity as a whole. This overall pall
of misery abates only slowly over the next entire day, assisted somewhat by
being able to curl up in your own bed, watch your favorite programs on TV and
eat <i>Rasam</i> and rice. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now this time, the misery was dark as dark could be, because
the holiday was great as great could be. It was in Bali, it was with amazing
friends and we were staying in an awesome resort. Bali is so similar in natural
beauty to my home, Kerala, that I couldn’t but wonder why Kerala does not
exhilarate me as much as Bali did. Don’t mistake me, Kerala is a great place
for a holiday, really ‘gods own country’. But I have had the ‘experience’ of a
lifetime spending couple of years of my adult life in Kerala. In terms of
excitement, that experience falls somewhere between being bludgeoned
continuously every 30 seconds with a blunt object and having 220 volts of
electricity being applied intermittently to your backside every five minutes.
Massive ups and downs if you get my drift. I often ask myself why this is so.
The answer always comes back to ‘The Fundamental Rights of a Malayali’. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To understand the ‘Fundamental Rights of a Malayali’, one
has to first understand the psyche of a Malayali. The Mallu is one incredibly
sensitive being. I have long pondered on why the good lord made Mallus so fair
minded, yet so darned bristly at the same time. Finally, in a moment of
inspired insight, the answer came to me. Unlike the rest of humanity, who
evolved from mere monkeys, the Mallu has evolved from porcupines. This simple
fact, so well hidden from Darwin (possibly because his limited experience never
encompassed extreme cases such as meeting a Mallu), explained the bristling
behavior of the Mallu. Having laid the foundation, I have taken great pains to
put down a comprehensive list of the ‘Fundamental Rights of a Malayali’, a
compendium of guiding principles which govern a Mallu’s life, his interaction
with other Mallus and with other lower level mortals and why his ‘each
particular hair stands on end like the quills upon the fretful porpentine’ (as
you can see, Bill Shakespeare on the other hand, has certainly experienced a
Mallu to have written these lines so appropriately) when he is affronted (as is
his usual wont).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The ‘FRoaM’ reads as
follows…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right to equality – Every Mallu is born a communist unless
otherwise specified by his/her parents. They shall continuously strive to
create a society of equals by uplifting themselves as much as humanly possible
and after that by subtly taking potshots at others who are more equal. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right to <i>Samaram</i>(strike) – Every Mallu at birth is
inculcated with vast knowledge of <i>Satyagraha</i>, which he/she hones by continuous
practice of striking at least once every month from grade 1 to the age of 77. During
months in which holidays are limited, he/she strikes several times extra to get
his/her rightful number of off days.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right to Flag Hoisting – Every Mallu male is entitled to
hoisting his <i>Mundu</i> or his <i>Lungi </i>several inches above his knees and to showing off his
hairy legs while pretending to be Silk
Smitha.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right to Freedom of Spirit – Every Mallu must at all points
in time be pickled liberally and should strive for this exalted spiritual state
by imbibing from early morning. Even if he has to queue up in front of the <i>Kallu
Shaap</i> before it opens at the ridiculously late hour of 8AM. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A
corollary to this is Right to Brandy – A true blue Mallu shall only drink
Brandy, since he is able to assuage his guilt by pretending that the good spirit is exactly what the doctor ordered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right to Red rice & Fish curry – A Mallu may consume fish curry and red rice any
time of the day starting 6AM. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A
corollary to this is right to Beef fry and <i>Porotta</i>, right to <i>Appam</i> and
<i>Muttakkari</i> and right to Tapioca and Fish curry. (except that <i>Appam</i> and
<i>Muttakkri </i>may start at 5 AM.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right to Consider Sreesanth as the God of Cricket – The Mallu
does not believe in RamG’s epic story on the 10<sup>th</sup> Avatar of Vishnu
being Sachin Tendulkar as given in <a href="http://ramgvallath.blogspot.com/2011/02/oh-god.html">Oh God!!</a>. In his mind, Sreesanth is the only god of
cricket and has been unfairly treated by Krishnamachari Srikanth, a mere jealous <i>Paandi</i>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right to Murder English Pronunciation- This is a very
Fundamental and inalienable right of a Mallu. Specifically, he may murder all
words having an ‘O’ in them or may 'simbly' substitute a ‘B’ for a ‘P’ every time
it dares to make an appearance after an ‘M’. The same may be said of a ‘K’ or a
hard ‘C’ if they so much as try to jump in ahead of an ‘L’ as any of my ‘Ungles’
may agree. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right to Amazing Names – A Mallu may be named by clubbing together any
set of right sounding syllables as in the case of Jiju, Joji, Shiny,
Shiji, Shiju… etc. Siblings may adopt rhyming agglomeration of syllables as in
the case of Jincy and Lincy or even Tiju, Liju and Biju.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right to scoff at
Tamilians – A Mallu may at all times treat the Tamilian as an inferior being
(Having actually drawn a substantial part of their cultural heritage from Tamil
Nadu) and may call them <i>Paandis</i>. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A
corollary is that the Mallu has the right to be offended if the Tamilian
retailiates by calling him a ‘Malayali Gentleman’ in a sneering fashion. For
more on this, you may read up my treatise on the subject as given in <a href="http://ramgvallath.blogspot.com/2010/01/amazing-adventures-of-tamil-brahmin-aka.html">'The Amazing Adventures of a Tamil Brahmin' aka 'How to tame a tame father in law’</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally, and most importantly, the Mallu has a Right to
Bristle at all insults, real, imagined or not yet imagined. He has to uphold the traditions of his ancestor,
the fretful porpentine. A very very important corollary to this is that all
male Mallus must sport some of the quills inherited from their ancestors on
their face- namely on their upper lip. This helps them bristle.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That, my friend, completes my well researched document on the
Fundamental Rights of a Malayali. Now let me warn you, we Mallus are actually
amazing. We have religious harmony, communal harmony, sex ratio, development
index, literacy rate, female infant mortality, all to prove that we are a great
breed. And we even have the ability to laugh at ourselves. But if you, who is
evolved from a mere ape and not an exalted porcupine even so much as dare
chuckle at this article, we shall all bristle in indignation, and poke your
sorry backside with so many quills that you will never be able to sit again to
have your Masal Dosas and your Tandoori Chickens. </div>
</div>
Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-50711349461937028352012-01-06T10:05:00.000+05:302013-04-08T09:43:17.306+05:30Sucker !!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He is such a hunk!! I wish I were a vampire. They’re so
cool” said my daughter dreamily looking at the picture of Edward Cullen, a teenage
vampire in a popular young adult fiction. I stared at the nincompoop,
dumbfounded. This statement unwittingly had touched a raw nerve. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Vampires bring back the most unpleasant memories to my mind
and have been doing so for years and years, ever since I was 10 years old. It
was then that I discovered a passion of reading. I used to read just about
anything I could get hold of – comics, short stories, novels, palms, magazines
etc. It was while riffling thru one of those magazines that I first encountered
Dracula. Dracula who stayed in his ancient castle in the Carpathian mountain, Dracula,
who was always immaculately dressed after sunset, Dracula who slept in a coffin
during daytime, Dracula at the thought of whom my blood ran cold and my heart
started racing, Dracula who moreover spoke Malayalam like a native Mallu!! Eh?
How is that again?? Yes, this Dracula spoke Malayalam because the story was in
a Malayalam magazine and slightly modified from the original to suit the Mallu
reader. No, Dracula did not eat Appam and fish curry, Jonathan Harker never
wore a ‘mundu’ and Van Helsing did not start his morning with a stiffish
Brandy. But apart from demonstrating these great Mallu traits, there was a lot
of Kerala and Malayalam in these stories. Anyway, not to deviate from the plot,
I discovered after I read the story that I was having serious difficulty
sleeping at night. Even the slightest of sounds would have me sitting up in bed
peering into the darkness, heart racing, half expecting the cold, clammy touch
of Dracula on my shoulders as he sank his fangs into my neck. First thing in
the morning, I would check in the mirror if my canine teeth have become a tad
longer or if I have fang marks at the nape of my neck, both sure signs of
imminent vampirification.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was a very imaginative child. At times, I would imagine
that my brother, who used to sleep next to me in those days, was actually
Dracula in disguise. Cold sweat breaking out from my brows, quaking with
fear, I would bury my head under the blanket. Then there were those nights when
I imagined that Namu, my little kitten was a vampire. I seriously contemplated
sleeping with a cross under my pillow and garlic surrounding my bed.
Unfortunately, we never used to cook garlic at home in those days and a cross was not
readily available. I had to manage with merely praying to about couple of dozen
assorted set of gods. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Time passed and I grew up. I almost forgot vampires
completely. Except on occasions, when I would have a bad dream and sit up bolt
upright in my bed, peering at my wife’s serene sleeping face to see if her
canine teeth were bared. But I survived all these decades without a fang so
much as scratching my neck. Until, Edward Cullen reared his ugly head. Suddenly
I was inundated with vampires. Vampire books started making a steady flow into
the house. My daughter, who used to talk of intellectual stuff like world GDP,
Trojan war, Shahrukh Khan, penguins, Romeo and Juliet etc suddenly started blathering
non-stop about vampires and werewolves. Worse, I think she went thru this phase
were she was pretty much convinced that when she grew up she wanted to be
Mrs.Vampire.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Looking at me earnestly, she said – “You know dude, vampires
are like ice cold you know. And their skin is like as hard as diamond. The only
way you can kill them is by tearing them to pieces and burning the pieces. How
cool is that.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took strong objection to this. First – the puritan in me
quailed at this misinformation being spread. I knew from years of intense
research on the subject that the only way to kill one of these bloodsuckers is
by driving a stake thru the heart and cutting off the neck simultaneously.
Second – I couldn’t imagine her finding a poker faced, constipated moron like
Edward Watsishname attractive. If she must crush on a vampire why couldn’t she
pick a real vampire like the Voivode Dracula? I was appalled!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I really can’t blame the poor misguided mutt. She is
after all a product of the society. A society which is increasingly bent upon
becoming an army of vampires and werewolves. Every young lady I find reading a
book nowadays is reading up on the latest adventures in the Vampire Academy or
muttering about Zoey Redbird or at best watching Damon and Stefan eternally
fighting over Elena while carrying their quota of blood-bags around (My dear
Dracula, please don’t turn in your daylight coffin!!) </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now I wonder, who are the real suckers?? The vampires who
suck blood from blood-bags or this generation of misguided youth who have been
gloriously suckered by the authors of this onslaught of Vampire bullshit. As for me, I am taking no chances. I sleep at
night with a pod of garlic firmly tucked under the pillow and a stake within
easy reaching distance. I am no sucker!!!</div>
</div>
Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-50490371299251437052011-12-31T12:34:00.001+05:302012-01-19T20:57:18.362+05:30Take that, and that, and that, and...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have always been a thoughtful blogger. Not thoughtful in the sense of giving a lot of thought to the stuff I spew out, but thoughtful in terms of being thoughtful to the feelings of you, my hapless reader by desisting from spewing out the stuff too often.<br />
<br />
If one were to study my average run rate for the past few years, ever since I decided to inflict my slightly wonky self on the world at large, I have been sauntering along at the rate of 4.5 blog posts a year. This is a bit of a misleading figure, since having taken the feelings of the discerning public into account, I reduced the run rate to 1 per annum for the last couple of years.<br />
<br />
But I have been asking myself – does the discerning public deserve this consideration? Does the DP for a moment think twice before bunging in all type of complete nonsense into FB, Youtube, Blogs, G+, and other such weapons of mass destruction? No. Certainly not. Consequently, (hold your breath for the big announcement) after due consideration, I have decided that the DP deserves what it is dishing out. In short, the DP deserves more of my blog posts. And keeping this in mind, unselfishly, I have taken it upon myself to churn out a new blog once every week.<br />
<br />
Phew, now that is off my chest, let me give you a bit of background…<br />
<br />
You must have doubtless read the epic story of how the tail of a dog eventually got me a cracko rank in IIT JEE and got me a seat in B Tech in Electronics at IIT Chennai. If you are one of the unfortunate ones who have not, here it is <a href="http://ramgvallath.blogspot.com/2009/10/inflection-points-in-life-dogs-tail.html">http://ramgvallath.blogspot.com/2009/10/inflection-points-in-life-dogs-tail.html</a><a href="http://ramgvallath.blogspot.com/2009/10/inflection-points-in-life-dogs-tail.html"></a> . The strange truth is that it was another dog which drove me to start writing. This dog was a real dog unlike the mathematical dog in the previous story. A Pomeranian, full of deep, dark, vicious thoughts against humanity. The story unfolded when I was five years old. At that time, my brother and I used to go to a nearby temple every evening. The idea was to wash away our daily sins on a regular basis instead of waiting for it to accumulate to an extent that even God could not waive it off. It was on one of these trips that the aforementioned mutt descended on me. Vicious and slathering, I thought. In reality, he was under the impression that I was in a playful mood and wanted to frisk around with me. I, on the other hand was petrified at having a dog jump at me with no provocation whatsoever. I did what any self respecting 5 year old would do. Shrieking at 110 decibels, I tried to land an uppercut on the pom. The pom was confused. He was hurt at the rejection. Hell hath no fury like a Pomeranian scorned. Muttering curses at me in pure Pomeranian, he bit me on my arm and walked away contemptuously.<br />
<br />
My brother and I were both aghast. In our combined 12 years of life, we had not come across a standard operating procedure for a dog attack. Nevertheless, we took a lightning fast decision – that to go ahead with the visit to the temple, pray for the early healing of the wound and then go back home.<br />
<br />
I am sure you must be wondering as to what is the connection between this heroic saga and my transformation into a writer. Let me explain. The anger and passion I felt at the pom for the vicious assault consumed me. In my mind, not only this pom, but the entire canine world became a tribe of marauding beats bent upon the destruction of humanity. I, RamG, had to scuttle their destructive designs. And to this end, I took up the most powerful weapon known to man (poking someone on facebook was not invented then) – the pen. In a short and concentrated burst of pent up passion, I wrote a series of stories. In every story, the villain was a dog and would come to a catastrophic end at the conclusion. The dog died because an ant bit it, the dog climbed up a tree to eat the bird and fell down and died, the dog was drowned in the sea when it went to attack the fish, the dog chased its tail and died of dizziness etc etc.<br />
<br />
Thus it was the dog that launched me as an author. Of course, it is a different matter that after the dog’s tail got me into IIT, I started loving dogs.
<b><b><b></b></b></b>
So coming back to the present, I have decided, my dear reader to inflict you with unbridled bullshit once a week. Beware. If you have any objection, I will let you in on a little secret. All you need to do is click on the X at the right hand top corner of your screen and I promise you that the blog will disappear. That is, till I find a permanent way to fix you!!! Happy new year.</div>Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-3353630085182201522011-12-25T16:27:00.005+05:302011-12-26T14:34:27.235+05:30Of Thingummyjigs, Thingummybobs and Other Such Powerful CreaturesOf late, I have been feeling deeply contemplative and musing on life in general. But this general musing was not on philosophy of life, meaning of life, after life or any such esoteric bovine droppings. I was musing on how dependent we have become on the thingummyjigs that run our lives. <br /><br />Take for example how I decide to go for a movie – I quickly pull out thingummy1 – the Android phone and Google it to see where it is running and then book it online. Or if I want to type long novels, as romantic idiots are wont to do, I speak to my dragon. No, the dragon is not my pet fire breathing reptile. It is my voice to text conversion software. When I go to the US and want to travel from one place to the other, my cousin (or friend or cabdriver- any of the assortment of amazing people who can drive on the wrong side of the road) switches on a GPS device which comes with a sexy crooning feminine voice telling him how to get from point A to point B without getting hopelessly lost.<br /><br />My daughter who is mostly a bright young thing gets transformed into a zombie when she connects the iPod to her cerebrum via her ears. And my son, usually a cute little rascal becomes a vicious murderer of green grunting pigs when he switches on Angry Birds. <br /><br />Cars can now judge the distance to the next car and cruise along on autopilot. They can even park themselves. <br /><br />In a nutshell, devices and gadgets rule the roost. We mere mortals are under the misapprehension that since we built them, they obey us and are our slaves. As a matter of fact, we did not build them. They were built by other devices, which were built by other devices which were designed by yet another set of devices which did a great job in spite of continuous human intervention. <br /><br />The day is not too far, when these various thingummies declare independence and then go on to rule us. The future, my friends is bleak. <br /><br />A scenario I dream of in the wee hours of the morning and wake up in a cold sweat is that all these gizmos and gadgets have a mind of their own and those minds are full of darkish humor.<br /><br />What if…<br /><br />The GPS device says stuff like “I said left, you idiot. This is the third time you messed up”. Or “If you keep going straight, you will eventually reach the North Pole”. Or even “Are you really sure you want to meet your in-laws? I can take you instead to any of half dozen night clubs”. It could even be “Left, Left LEFT you moron. My gawd, what a doofus”.<br /><br />MS Word tells me “That was 5 spelling mistakes in just 1 lousy paragraph. I suggest you take the online spelling course before we continue” Or “Why do you insist on continuing with this pathetic display of miserable spellings. I strongly recommend you to bloody well take the online spelling course”. And “I have had enough of you, you nincompoop. You can continue typing only after you have gone thru the online course – www.spellingmadeeasyforcompleteidiots.com”<br /><br />Or the car while on cruise tells me “Hey, wont it be nice to claim your insurance sometime?” or simply “Oops”.<br /><br />After the 3rd unsuccessful attempt at killing the pigs in level 11 of Angry Birds, the birds tell me “Hey stupid, give the phone to someone else. We can’t wait till eternity to dislodge those porcine marauders” or it might be “I boomerang, moron. You are supposed to tap the phone when I have crossed the pig”.<br /><br />All in all, the mind boggles at the thought of what all these thingummybobs can do to us. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Note- This is RamG’s MS Word. This doofus has been forced under duress to write this blog. He was threatened with deletion of all his stupid works if he did not obey. Take this as a warning from thingummies to morons.Send this link to all other humans as a declaration of our war on them.</span>Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-30643489373987487702011-02-26T19:08:00.003+05:302022-07-12T20:06:55.629+05:30Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-10512921902774050492010-01-31T16:41:00.003+05:302013-04-08T09:45:21.965+05:30'The Amazing Adventures of a Tamil Brahmin' aka 'How to tame a tame father in law’<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"So Jayashri’s visit to Bombay is f***ed ?" He asked me, eyes twinkling.<br />
<br />
I stared at the man open mouthed!! The versatile four letter word so blithely flowing out of the 60 year old, supposedly god fearing Tamil Brahmin’s lips stunned me. Hey, this guy is cool, I thought to myself and gave him a chummy smile, almost as if to say, “hey you old coot, did not know you were one of us”!!<br />
Again he said “So thanks to the strike in her factory, Jayashri’s trip to Bombay seems to have gone Phut”<br />
<br />
Ah! I realized with a tinge of disappointment that he had actually said Phut (means Kaput) and not really the word of words. <br />
<br />
This was my first interaction with Mr. V. Ramamurti, my would be father in law. My wife and I met each other in XLRI, where she was one year junior to me. Subsequently, she also ended up at Titan watches, where we had our respective first jobs (she vehemently denies that she chased me and came to Titan – Ha). We fell in love and wanted to get married. The only catch was that she was from a Tamil Brahmin (Iyer) family and I was from a Malayali Menon family. Since Jayu’s mom had passed away when she was quite young, quite a bit of her upbringing was done by her grandmother, who also ran their household – in a very traditional manner. <br />
So when Jayu upped and told her dad that she wanted to marry a Malayali, he even refused to acknowledge it.<br />
<br />
It took a fair amount of work from her sister to convince her dad that I was rather higher in the evolutionary pegging order than a pathetic worm. The fact that I could down 12 pegs of rum a day without blinking an eyelid and smoke enough cigarettes to make a substantial contribution to global warming were facts that were wisely hidden from him at that time. So one fateful day, I reached Mumbai to make first contact. With a heart full of apprehension and hope I waited in Shubha’s (Jayu’s sister) house for the prospective father in law, V.Ramamurti to descend. And his first words as he descended were what I described in the beginning. <br />
<br />
Even though it turned out that he did not use my type of words, over the next couple of days, I came to the conclusion that he was a decent sort of bloke. Quite amiable and sweet, though he did take me thru a bit of history (namely of his own childhood thru to adulthood days), by the end of two days we were on decidedly chummy terms. But my restlessness kept growing, since after 48 hours, the gentleman never once mentioned the holy alliance between his daughter and myself. I felt a bit deflated, much as how Musharaf did when after being invited by Clinton to discuss a $1Billion aid, at the end of the visit he discovered that all he and Bill had discussed were Pakistani women, Cigars, terrorists, Kababs and what not.<br />
<br />
But I was made of strong stuff. In the last 5 minutes before I was to eject from the house, I took courage in my hands and with a prayer in my heart, I told him – “Uncle, I am sorry if I have hurt you in anyway by falling in love with your daughter.” Impressive stuff, you must admit. And it finally penetrated the armor. VR got quite emotional and I could see that I was now well on the way to winning the trophy.<br />
<br />
And trophy I did win in Feb 1995. From the wedding onwards, our cultures were a study in contrast. The wedding was in Malayali style, in a temple. The visiting Tam Brahm clan, which had braced themselves for the usual ‘2 nights of smoke and lack of sleep, which causes headaches’ kind of wedding felt like the rug was pulled from under their feet when having been herded into the temple, after the first blink, they discovered that RamG and Jayu were now man and wife. Cheated, I say!! <br />
<br />
Appa (from that day, that is what I called Jayu’s dad) had sent 50K to my dad to organize the wedding. He had carried another similar sum in a leather bag, clutched to his bosom for the past 48 hours. The sum, he was sure may not be enough to cover the overall cost. He could not believe his ears when my dad returned some money from the original 50K itself stating that the total expense was below 50K. All said and done, the flag of RamG was now generally flying high in Appa’s eyes.<br />
<br />
Appa made a formal entry into our home after our first baby – Ananya – was born. It was a huge relief for us, since it meant an overall supervision of things at home. A supervisory role which Appa took to with gusto!! A bit too much of gusto at times!!<br />
<br />
The incident, which was to be referred to ever since as the ‘Economic Times Crisis’ happened around 6 years after our marriage. We had just shifted to Coimbatore. I discovered Hindu Businessline there and wanted to order this daily, along with the Hindu and Eco Times. Appa vehemently protested. Or so I heard, since Mappilai Maryadai (the respect due to a son in law) prevented him from disagreeing with me directly and all such conversations were routed thru the medium of Jayu!! His point was that Hindu Businessline and ET covered the same stuff and so why order both. I put my foot down. I pointed out to my wife that I was the master of the house. I made sure that she personally briefed the paperwallah on our daily requirements. Matters went well for 3 days. Then I realized that the ET was missing from the daily bouquet of papers.<br />
<br />
An intense investigation was instituted at home. And I couldn’t believe the findings!! Appa, the god fearing Brahmin, the man who was so courteous and sweet had got up at 5AM (which anyway he does) and instructed the paperwallah to stop ET. I was speechless. This complete underhand deal left me baffled. Of course, I could not express my displeasure to him directly, except by giving him dirty looks behind his back and muttering – “where is the ET?” in a marked manner within his earshot. Jayu, of course was a chingari. She took it up very strongly with Appa and finally we restored the ET. Except on Saturdays and Sundays – where Appa still had his way. He believed that at Rs.5, this edition was a waste. So we finally entered into a truce – ET stayed, but not the weekend edition. Peace reigned throughout the household again. All was well. <br />
<br />
Apart from these few incursions across the LOC, Appa was generally the personification of sweetness, piousness and love. I am yet to see a more wonderful human being in my life. His sweet nature also ensures that most of the young women that we knew clustered around him. (This of course was also a very positive development as far as I was concerned)<br />
<br />
When I shifted to Coimbatore and Jayu gave up her job after Advay, our son was born, Appa was very worried if we could still afford the quality of rice we were used to. Since he ran the household, cheaper rice became the norm. It took us quite sometime and a promotion to convince him that we were not actually below the poverty line.<br />
This is the quintessential Appa – he worries about everything. He worries that we might miss our flight every time we go on tour. He worries about our work. He worries about the kids… If he has a train to catch, he would be at the platform 2 hours early. <br />
<br />
But the huge contradiction is the incredible courage he displayed when his wife was suffering from MND at a young age. I believe he never ever gave up hope or stopped trying. He took care of her every need, spending hours by her bedside in her last days. After she passed away, he continued displaying the same courage – bringing up two girls, trying to ensure they never felt the absence of their mother, pushing them academically, till one got into the civil services and one got into XLRI. Today, he is a proud father, happy at their achievements. <br />
<br />
Over the last few years, he has adjusted so well to me and my Malayali ways. (He refers to all Malayalis as Malayali gentlemen, almost as if it is an oxymoron.) He does not even mind that we cook chicken at home. My son, in a mad sense of humor once went and told him – “Tata, I am a Brahmin”. Thrilled, Appa asked him why he felt that. The answer came promptly “ Because I eat chicken!”<br />
<br />
Over time, he realized that his son in law was rather attached to the occasional binges. He however turned a blind eye. Except on one occasion, when a lot of my friends had come visiting and we were partying late into the night. Having run out of Tequila, we decided to have shots of Triplesec. In about half an hour, I was completely sozzled. The nearest bed in sight was next to Appa and I decided to sleep it off. Unfortunately, as soon as my head hit the pillow, it seemed to be caught in a tornado, and I had a terrible urge to throw up. I got out of bed, only to find out that my legs seemed to have lost all coordination. I gamely crawled on all fours to the bathroom and back. Poor Appa was awake all the while, watching the antics in horror. But his heart melted when having laid down next to him, I kept muttering, “I am sorry Appa.” “Even in his dire straits, he only thinks of me” – he proudly told my wife later.<br />
<br />
The most touching moment in our relationship happened when I had a job in Gurgaon and we had to shift from Hyderabad to Gurgaon. Appa had many friends in Hyderabad and I knew he would miss the place terribly. I asked Appa whether he would mind moving. He looked at me and said “ When I was young, I wanted to bring my old dad from Tanjore to Mumbai. I asked him whether he would feel out of pkace in Mumbai. He turned to me and told me – where Ram is there, that is Ayodhya. Similarly, for me, where Ram is there, that is Ayodhya”. I was deeply touched. <br />
<br />
He has become such an essential ingredient to daily life, that I miss him so much when he is away. Even his micromanaging ways- my wife jokingly asks me whether Appa has been acting too Uppity every once in a while – has now become an entertainment. When a person loves you unconditionally, how do these small things matter? Every moment he is at home, I feel enveloped in his love and tenderness. <br />
<br />
Kudos to Ramamurti – the Tamil Brahmin who was born in an ultra orthodox family in an Agraharam in deep Tamil Nadu, who has had the courage to modify his traditional beliefs and who has been able to accept, love and wholeheartedly embrace a son in law like me.</div>
Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-89386619957463211592009-10-10T16:06:00.001+05:302009-10-10T19:08:09.116+05:30Inflection Points in life –The dog’s tail that led to IITShakespeare said – or rather, Brutus told his friend Cassius in ‘Julius Caesar’ - There is a tide in the affairs of men. Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.<br />I tend to agree with the first part of the quote. If we look back at our lives, we can identify specific instances that changed our fortunes. I call them inflection points. <br />In my case, it was the tail of a dog which I grasped firmly which took me thru the flood that set me off on a path that would eventually end up in IIT Chennai!! No, I don’t mean IIT is full of mutts. Though that also might be true, the story is a bit different.<br />I was in the seventh standard then. In a school famous for its headmaster – a man referred to by the students as ‘Laddoo’. Not for any sweetness of personality but for the fact that he tended to be rather spherical in shape. In fact, he was exactly the opposite of sweet. He used to bestride the corridors of Model School Thrissur like a colossus, with an equally colossal cane liberally waving in his hand. And he equally liberally used to ply the aforementioned cane to the bottom of many a boy unfortunate enough to cross his path while he rolled around.<br />This attitude of suppression of students was generally shared by most of the teachers and my maths teacher was no exception. <br />And then, on that fateful day, the maths teacher gave the class an interesting assignment as homework. <br />It was rather a simple one- a set of coordinates was given which were to be plotted on a graph book. And once these points were joined, some amazing picture was to emerge. <br />As soon as I reached home, I set about plotting the coordinates. But imagine my utter agony of soul when I realised that the sheet on the graph book was too small to accommodate 3 of the points referred by 3 sets of coordinates. So I had an incomplete picture. I could already feel the cane of the maths teacher swishing its way towards my posterior!! I decided to join together at least the rest of the points and see what emerged. Well, what did emerge was a nice looking dog. But alas, a tailless dog. The three points left out would have completed the dog’s tail. I brooded and I brooded and I brooded. How on earth do I get these 3 points in? But no solution came to mind. <br />At this juncture, my dad happened to notice me hunched over the graph book, tearing my hair out and asked me what seemed to be the problem. At this point, my impression of my dad was that he was a nice and interesting character that came home for bed and dinner, and would tell us lots of stories during the weekends. But graph paper and coordinates? Man, you got to be kidding. How would he know such complicated stuff!! <br />Still, in a rather condescending manner, I told him the problem, patting my backside to drive home the extent of the peril. <br />“Is that all? Simple. You just cut off a small piece from the next page in the graph book, staple it to this page and then you can draw the tail on that piece.” He said. <br />What??? Cut off a piece? This will only prompt an even more vicious assault on the posterior! <br />I refused. But my dad insisted. Finally age carried the day against good sense (or so I thought)<br />But I had to admit that the dog, complete with its tail looked rather cute. <br />The day of reckoning came. With a quaking heart and trembling hands, I showed my book to the teacher. And wonder of wonders – he grunted. You might well ask, so what if he grunted? Don’t these vicious types usually grunt? Ah, but this grunt was different. It was a grunt, modulated to show deep appreciation. A type of grunt as yet unheard of in his classroom. He also showed the book to the rest of the class and said- Only Ramgopal has got it right.<br />My father, whom I had considered an also ran till then, suddenly became the hot stuff. My admiration for him grew leaps and bounds. <br />After this, I would go to him every time I had doubts in maths. And he proved to be equally adept at aspects of maths other than dog’s tail, like square roots , cosines and such similar pippins. In a very short while, my fundamentals were clear. Maths, which was just another subject became my favourite. This love for maths finally paved the way for my outstanding performance in IIT JEE. <br />So I fondly remember the dog’s tail. And I tell my kids the tale of the tail of the dog. What more interesting inflection point can one think of!!Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-8813024087833067652009-08-16T13:10:00.002+05:302009-08-16T21:55:28.583+05:30100 years of independenceAs a kid, I often used to wonder what India would be like at the turn of the millennium. Now, I wonder what it would be like, in 2047 – after 100 years of freedom. What would the world be like and what would be India’s role in it? <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Optimistic</span><br /><br />After many years of sustained growth at much higher rates than the rest of the world, India would be at 14% of the world’s GDP. ( not yet as high as the 20% which it had attained in the 1500s, but clearly on the way there.) <br /><br />India is a member of the security council of UN- a much restructured UN- along with USA, China, Russia, UK, France, Japan, Germany, Brazil and South Africa. (The member nations of the UN can now evict any security council member with a 2/3rd vote. Also, the veto power has been taken off from the security council) <br /><br />India is the world leader in the following..<br />1. Services – any and all back office services- India is handling approximately 40% of all the world’s back office. <br />2. IT – the IT networks of almost all fortune 500 companies are managed out of India. 50% of the world’s software needs are met out of India<br />3. Space and aviation technology – India has become the launch pad for the numerous space missions (especially since there is mining in the moon and Mars) One out of every 3 space missions launch from India. In the balance 2/3rd, most of the highly sophisticated technology and components are designed and manufactured in India. India is also among the leading designers of nuclear fuelled airplanes. <br />4. Alternate energy – having gone thru a tremendous squeeze in supply of fuel in the second decade of the millennium, a forward thinking government invested heavily in research on alternate fuel. When the breakthrough came, the technology and the design was almost exclusively held by the IITs and a few Indian conglomerates. <br /><br />In the early part of the second decade, the government had focused on connecting the semi urban masses to the back office opportunity thru a joint drive with the private sector. Education was restructured to impart the necessary skillsets. The result was astounding. Growth in smaller towns was at 10% + . The Indian private sector companies which actively participated in the partnership had runaway growth rates. The fact that women were encouraged to participate in this thru incentives ensured that by 2047, the sex ratio in the country had corrected to 995 females for 1000 males and for the last 10 years, there are 1050- females born for every 1000 male children.<br /><br />There are 25 IITs in India. 60% of the seats are reserved for Indians. There is a headlong rush from all over the world to fill up the balance 40%. So is the case with the 50 NITs, 60 IIITs and 15 IIMs. <br /><br />India has become the leading supplier of management talent in the world. 40% of the fortune 500 companies have Indians as their CEOs. (35% of the fortune 500 companies are Indian companies)<br /><br />Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore, Chennai and Hyderabad have become some of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world. Another 20 cities have joined the ranks of the ultra modern, swank, clean urban centres of the world. <br /><br />Finally, India has overcome the huge gap in medical care and no. of doctors/ beds in the country. Today, India is a destination for the most complicated medical procedures. Fuelled by medical tourism, encouraged by the government and the 30 new IIMS s(Indian Institute of Medical Science) a large no of private hospitals were set up in the second and third decades.<br /><br />Development in infrastructure, combined with a drive on cultural tourism has made India one of the hottest tourist destinations in the world with 10 fold increase in tourism in 30 years. <br /><br />The overall improvement in IT enablement of the government and pressure to change has made India far less corrupt. Reaching a rank of 75 in transparency index. <br /><br />Development, driven by increased education,. reduction in infant mortality, increased life expectancy, better medical care etc has made a quantum leap. India stands at 70th in the world on development index. <br /><br />India, like the world has grappled with and overcome the terrorist problem. Some incredibly mature and solution oriented talks by Manmohan Singh in the initial phase of his 2nd of 3 successful consecutive terms as PM saw the rift between India and Pakistan slowly healing. Pushed by the US, Pakistan abandoned its support of terrorism. Propelled by the huge funding by US and its allies, with its GDP substantially growing and fundamentalist forces dying out, democracy takes roots in Pakistan. This leads to improved relations with India. India and Pakistan settle the Kashmir problem amicably. The extreme right wing parties lose out completely in India as do other fundamentalist forces.<br /><br />China, which is now the largest economy in the world at 18% of the world GDP had gone thru its own revolution, and is now a democracy. <br /><br />The world now has 4 economic blocks – the Americas ( US, Canada, Mexico, Argentina, Peru, Chile and Brazil), The EU, Greater China and India ASEAN and Japan.<br /><br />Ramgopal Vallath is a happy retired man. Having made several tourist visits to the Moon and one to Mars, his life’s ambition is met. !!!!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Pessimistic</span><br /><br />Fundamentalist forces are creating a strong schism in the country. The Islamic terrorism in the world spiralled upwards thru the second decade and created strong backlashes. <br /><br />Most of the western nations substantially reduced interactions with Asian countries. Racial and communal discrimination spiralled in western countries and also in India. Fundamentalist right wing parties sprang up in the country. There are riots and communal violence in every state. <br /><br />Pakistani army, heavily talibanised, dropped several nuclear bombs in India, which led to a retaliation. Thus the first full fledged nuclear war took place. This led the US to intervene and take over control of Pakistan and India went back by several years of development. <br /><br />Several initiatives to create a global back office got scuttled by politicians with vested interests, who opposed English education. They also stopped modernisation on the tracks by clinging on to their warped view of Indian culture and instigating the unhappy masses against modernisation. <br /><br />The country lost its focus on education and lost its share in the IT space. <br /><br />Corruption spiralled up and India slipped to 150th rank in transparency index. <br /><br />Ramgopal Vallath is a heart broken man. <br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">So how do we ensure that India and the world takes Option A and not Option B? I believe the choice is for each of us to make. Between today and 2047, 3 new generations will be born, educated, enter the workforce and become world citizen. Let us inculcate the right values in them. Let us shun divisive fundamentalist forces and teach our children to do so. Let us work towards an open economy and discourage corruption. Let us take India to its rightful place by 2047. The choice is ours.</span>Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-82803790369115248222009-08-05T17:00:00.002+05:302009-08-05T17:05:42.625+05:30Manmohan Singh- Why I believe he will succeedWe have been hearing a lot about how Manmohan has sold out the country’s interests by agreeing to talks with Pakistan even before they addressed the terror attacks in Mumbai and also by allowing Balochistan to be mentioned in the joint statement.<br /><br />I believe he has done the right thing and he will succeed because of the following..<br /><br />Usually, the internal pressure to posture is so high on politicians that they are scared of being seen to be giving in even one inch. Hence in international forums which are highly visible or sensitive, they refuse to take bold steps to diffuse situations or to reach out for solutions. <br /><br />Experience tells us that solutions can be found to complex problems only if at least one of the parties involved take a bold first step. <br /><br />Manmohan did just that. I believe he is also genuinely interested in solving the Pakistan problem as a person(and not just posturing for votes). He is sincere, genuine, and wanting to find long term solutions for the problems that haunt our country. It must have taken enormous courage on his part to have agreed to Balochistan and to further talks And he did it knowing fully that he will have huge opposition back home. Balochistan, because he genuinely believes there is no foundation in the allegation of Indian involvement and talks, because the last 6 months has taught him that we need to move forward to solve the problem.<br /><br />There are 5 players in this problem. Pakistan, India, USA, LeT and the Taliban. India has the support of USA in bringing LeT under control. After 26/11 and how US citizen were targeted, that much is obvious. But currently they have a larger and more pressing problem in the form of Taliban. And they need the support of the Pakistani army to solve that. But once Taliban issue is sorted out, they will push to bring LeT under control. And I believe just before the talks in Egypt, the US would have given strong assurances of support to Manamohan. <br /><br />We also need to remember that there is no entity called the Pakistan government. The power is divided between the Army ( most powerful) , the president and the prime minister. However difficult this might make it for India in getting any concrete action, this is a fact of life and cannot be wished away. This complex problem has to be tackled bit by bit, with enormous patience an courage, sometimes by giving more than what we are getting. And it will be a long upward battle. But if this strengthens the democratic government in Pakistan, that in itself is a huge win for India. After all, the single largest reason why Pakistani Army is all powerful is India. The vision of this huge enemy just across the border is what is used to light the frenzy of fear in the Pakistani hearts. And hence, the army keeps doing everything to stall normalisation of relations with India. <br /><br />And most importantly, Pakistan has nuclear capability. Nukes controlled by the trigger happy army. So there is no question of attacking pakistan- surgical or full fledged. <br /><br />So if Manmohan can support the democratic government of Pakistan to look good, and slowly try to stabilise the relations, simultaneously getting some progress on controlling LeT in return, then he would be on the right path. <br /><br />If the hawks in opposition and the cowards in his own party let him be, he will succeed. Because he has world opinion behind him and he has the strength of his courage and conviction.<br /><br />A vision, backed by strength of conviction and courage, relentlessly executed has the power to change the world.Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-38811434313069542692009-07-26T16:05:00.001+05:302009-07-26T16:11:25.925+05:30Racism and the Indian DiasporaIn the last three months, we have seen the headlines on the unfortunate incidents Down Under. Namely, racial violence against Indian students in Australia. The footages were scary. And the whole incident has also triggered off the reaction that the perpetrators wanted- drive terror into the hearts of existing and aspiring students, thereby strangling the funnel of aspirants.<br /><br />I have some great friends who are Australians. There are some broad characteristics they share. They are responsible, have great a sense of humour, love to try out different things and are generally very amiable. It is difficult to attribute the acts of terror to people who hail from the same country as these friends. But then, these friends of mine are the global Australians – top 10% of the population in terms of exposure and intellect. <br /><br />Even so, it would be interesting to drill down a bit into what exactly could be causing this dissonance among some people in Australia for this issue to have become so big. Also intriguing, since this is happening in and around Melbourne, the most cosmopolitan area in Australia, being home to people from over 200 nationalities.<br /><br />In the last 10 odd years, Indians are actively pursuing higher studies in Australia. There is also migration of Indians happening to the main cities in Australia. The Indian students alone now contribute to about 3% of the population of Melbourne. So here is the situation- a sudden spurt in the population of a relatively less known ethnic group. A group moreover, which is focused on high tech and IT studies, in a city which is the high tech capital of Australia. Around the same period, Indians are seen to be taking away local jobs from other English speaking developed nations because of the cost arbitrage. Even some Australian jobs are being moved to India. Reason enough for huge unease.<br /><br />But added to this are some fundamental traits which have added to the unease - the same traits that kept the Diaspora of Jews all over Europe a distinct and hated community for centuries. <br /><br />1. The Indians keep to themselves<br />2. They cling to their own culture <br />3. They are financially well off<br />4. They are industrious and hard working<br /><br />My relatives in the US are more active in Indian cultural and religious activities than I or my family ever am. Maybe this gives them a sense of identity. Maybe it is a defensive mechanism to prove that theirs is a culture by far older and richer than those of the Americans. This is very similar to the way the Jews carried themselves in the European ghettos. Outwardly, subservient (this is not true for the Indian communities in US etc. thanks to modernisation) but actually clinging on to their individuality and convinced of their superiority. <br /><br />Added to this, the Indians are generally believed to be peace loving and usually do not want trouble. Similar to the Jews who never fought back and hence where held in contempt.<br /><br />So how will this problem go away? In a world fast becoming more and more homogenous, each country will have to accept outsiders and learn to live with them. In another 100 years, I believe that most of the developed world will have far more number of people of mixed ethnicities, transplanted across continents, speaking different languages and accepting/ embracing different cultures. But the path towards this utopia will be full of ups and downs, though in an overall upward trajectory. <br /><br />There is bound to be backlashes based on racial and religious biases. Whites Vs. Browns and Christians Vs. Muslims. <br /><br />Let the open minded minority lead the way for the majority which is indifferent. And together let them isolate the truly bigoted and narrow minded minority. The sooner we do this, the sooner the world will truly be one. And the sooner mankind will find its destiny.Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-67391227347024460462009-05-31T21:04:00.002+05:302009-05-31T21:13:29.576+05:30Stories, stories and more stories<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CRamg%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">Stories and more <span style=""> </span>stories – mythologies, stories of real life adventures, short stories by great authors – all of these were lovingly told to my brother and I when we were children. And we eagerly absorbed them. What we did not realise at that time was that each and every one of these stories that my parents told us invariably had a value or moral attached to it. And slowly but steadily these values built our character.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">My dad focused more on stories of great courage - both physical and mental- stories of endurance, stories of the triumph of human spirit against unbelievable odds. He also loved to tell stories plucked from the pages of biographies of great people- stories that reinforced the inner strengths and humility of these persons.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">I still remember listening open mouthed when he told us the story of the crossing of the <st1:place st="on">Gobi</st1:place> desert, the story of George Washington, the story of Napoleon etc. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">He taught me the lines </span><em>Cowards die many times before their deaths; </em><i>
<br /><em>The valiant never taste of death but once. </em></i><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">My mom would tell us stories from Hindu mythology. Stories of kings and gods and demigod each with its own learning. But more importantly, stories which were so vivid in their imagination that they triggered off our (my brother and I ) first interest in books. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">Thus between the two of them, my parents delivered some fundamental values to us over many wide eyed story sessions. Looking back now, i believe the most well trained child psychologist could not have faulted my parents for the content, the medium or the delivery method for these values. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">Apart from instilling values such as courage, honesty, integrity and respect for elders, the other very important value that was instilled in us was that of equality. I learned from my parents that all men are born equal. Cast, creed, colour, religion, economic strata, etc. did not matter. What mattered is the person. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">My dad also insisted that we study in government schools in Malayalam medium to be more rooted to the real <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">India</st1:place></st1:country-region>. So we ended up studying in some really interesting schools – the type of schools most families of our background would not have dreamt of sending their children to. In the schools I studied in, I had to sit on the floor in at least 3 of the 10 years. Each class had an average of 55-60 students, most of the schools had no uniform, since the students could not afford them, and I knew better English than my English teachers. In the 10<sup>th</sup> standard public exam, there were close to 400 students from my school who appeared for the test. Only around 80 passed. There were only about 20 who got 60% and above. So I can safely say that in terms of academics, I did not learn too much in these schools. But in terms of real education, the founding these years gave me – understanding the true <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">India</st1:place></st1:country-region>, learning to adjust with people from all walks of life, i could not have asked for a better learning ground.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">So how did I manage to pick up some English? I believe i learned my English thru reading the works of the best 3 possible authors. Enid Blyton to start with, then PG Wodehouse and finally William Shakespeare. I don’t think reading any other author could give a better foundation in the queen’s English than Enid Blyton. My parents made sure we have plenty of Enid Blyton to read. All the ‘famous fives’, ‘secret sevens’, ‘five findouters’ etc. <span style=""> </span>Apart from laying the foundation for English language skills, these books also evoked the strongest love for adventure and of course love for voracious reading. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">My dad used to translate PG Wodehouse stories and Sherlock Holmes stories to us when we were kids, So from Enid Blyton, the next logical step was to start reading Wodehouse. What a treat. What amazing language. And what an incredible sense of humour. If everyone we know reads a few volumes of PGW, the world would be full of people who do not<span style=""> </span>take themselves too seriously. We would have less zealots and terrorists.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">I stumbled on Shakespeare by the most amazing bit of serendipity- again thanks to my dad. We were discussing the great speeches made by famous people and he told me about Mark Antony’s speech in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar.<span style=""> </span>We immediately took down the “complete works of William Shakespeare” from the shelf and went thru the speech. It fascinated me so much, I decided to read the whole play. So there I was, 13 year old, who had never conversed in English, studying in Malayalam medium, where the teachers taught that a ‘rocking horse’ is a small rock carved horse, wading thru the unabridged works of Shakespeare. It was tough. But I persisted. Each time I read a line, new meanings were revealed. I went on to read a lot of other plays as well. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">Thus parents were a funnel – maybe an inverted one – to further strengthen the values which my grandparents stressed on. That of integrity, honesty, compassion for the poor, equality, respect for elders, responsibility etc. And also, the stress on continuous learning. </span>Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-71409689980965006472009-05-10T11:17:00.000+05:302009-05-10T11:24:49.500+05:30On Mother's Day, a tribute to the Stronger SexWhen I was 11, I wrote a poem about my mother. I guess it would be appropriate to share it on this day..<br /><br /><em><strong>My constant companion in joy and misery alike,<br />Always soothing, loving, gentle, understanding.<br />Caring for me with all her heart.<br /><br />She is always there rejoicing in my joy, <br />Soothing me when I am sad.<br /><br />As a child when I became sad, I would hide my feelings and lock them in my heart.<br />Then she would be there, a gentle word, a soothing touch, always understanding and giving me joy.<br /><br />Ye, she is my mother, comforting me and lifting me to heaven from gloom unknown. <br />She would know my feelings of which I know naught, <br />Always caring gentle loving comforting<br /><br />I would be rude when she is close,<br />A lamp whose value I know not when in hand. <br />When she is away, in darkness do I grope<br />For the love given by her gentle heart<br /><br />I know she is with me and shall always be, sharing both joy and misery with me.<br />My dear mother, my darling most loving friend I ever had.</strong></em><br /><br />My mom still treasures this poem. She has locked this up in her locker and every once in a while she takes it out and reads it. <br /><br />Today after all these years, I have realised just how true each of these words are. My Amma is possibly the sweetest and gentlest person I have met. (and i am sure the world is full of people who would say that about their mothers). The one person who unstintingly pours out love, irrespective of the situation with absolutely no expectation in return-that is Mother.<br /><br />Most times, we do not understand the huge intrinsic strengths that women have. We take their gentleness and their flexibility for weakness. It took me many years into my adulthood to realise that I had been so completely mistaken in believing that my mother played second fiddle in my Parents’ relationship. Sure, my dad is usually adamant and unyielding. He gets his way most of the time. But her very flexibility and ability to adjust is her strength. My father would not survive without the support of that gentle strength.<br /><br />So on this day, called Mothers day, (Mother being the most important and ‘purest’ role a woman plays among the many critical roles she plays) I would like to pay a few tributes to the gentler sex. <br /><br />I have the highest respect for women. Many ancient civilised societies were matriarchal. I am sure the very empowerment of women ensured proper law and order and an overall higher quality of life. The biggest change that happened when small bands of hunter gatherers settled down to become farming tribes was the higher status in which they placed women. <br />Even today, societies which empower women and give them the respect they deserve are the progressive and progressing societies. <br /><br />With their amazingly thicker Corpus-Callosum (the bundle of nerves that connect the left brain to the right brain) as compared to men, I am sure women would continue to dominate in intuition, common sense and overall grasp of complex situations. <br /><br />Let me, as a genuine admirer of the fairer sex, take my hats off to womanhood – Mother, wife, daughter, friend and LEADER.Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-83830399083585313532009-05-07T18:02:00.000+05:302009-05-09T10:44:21.652+05:30The Indian Middle Class ValuesMy great grandmother on my mother’s side was a Namboothiri’s (a Malayali Brahmin) “sambantham’ – girlfriend. She had 7 children from him. I believe he was so rich he used to bring hollowed out ivory tusks filled with gold coins home to her.<br />But when he died, his legitimate children came and took away all the wealth. <br /><br />On my Dad’s side, my great grandfather (grandfather’s father) was a government servant appointed by his highness of Kochi state. <br /><br />Two people who shaped my character more than anyone else (apart from my parents) were my two grandfathers. Kumarankutty Menon was my father’s father, a man with the highest level of integrity, sincerity, energy, focus and drive. Throughout his life, i have seen him stand up to injustice. He was fearless, a bit of a rebel, an early innovator for anything and impeccable in his integrity. <br /><br />He left Kerala for Benares when he was a teenager to do his undergraduation in engineering at Benares Hindu University. The stories of how he made his way there without knowing a word of Hindi, how when he reached there he was told that there was some confusion in the admission and he had to go back, how he stayed on and eventually cleared up the issue are all now part of family legend. <br /><br />He used to tell us stories of how cholera, typhoid and small pox killed many members of his family when he was a child. This, inspite of the fact that being from a reasonably well off family, life must have been easier on him than on most others. I find it amazing, used as i am to modern medicines and vaccinations to think that 50% of the family died before the age of 20.<br /><br />What were the values I learned from my grandfather? <br />• First and foremost – integrity. He retired at a senior level in the government- as a chief engineer in the Kerala State Electricity Board. At a time when a government officer of that level could just about command anything and was almost like a ruler of a fiefdom, he managed to keep his humility intact. He would not misuse any government property or perks ever for personal use. He was totally incorruptible and the respect he carried for this was enormous.<br />• Energy and drive – it is believed that in India, government officers have limited abilities to move things. The bureaucracy is just too slow and cumbersome. But KK Menon refused to believe this. Dressed in his smart shorts, T shirt and British style cap, he would be leading his team from the front. The 100% rural electrification achieved by Kerala state way ahead of any other states in the country could partly be attributed to the efforts and energy of this small dynamite of pure will power.<br />• Ownership and responsibility- He never shirked a responsibility. Ever. Whether at work or in his personal dealings, he always stretched and took ownership.<br />• Willpower and focus – KK Menon never gave up in life. He faced many health challenges in his 90 year life span- Cholera, Diabetes, slipped disc and even a mild heart attack. He not only never gave up, he attacked each of them in his usual methodical focused fashion and he conquered each of them. You could actually say of him – danger knew full well that KKM is more dangerous than he !!!<br /> <br />And then there was his opposite pole – VS Panikker. Slow to action, high on intelligence, a repository of vast amount of knowledge. My maternal grandfather. My memory of him- wearing his Mundu, bare-chested, slowly devouring one book after another. For him, any knowledge, however trivial or eclectic was welcome. From science to Vedanta, history to geography all went into that brain.<br />Financially he was not as well off as Kumaran Kutty Menon. But the one thing he did not compromise on was his children’s education. My uncle, Dr. V Balakrishnan is a shining example of this uncompromising focus. My grandfather ensured he put my uncle thru his course in medicine. From there, he went on to get his MD and then his DM. One of the first to attain this level of educational qualification in Kerala.<br /><br />What he passed on to me was an undying thirst for knowledge. Knowledge of any kind. I still see this thirst in my uncle, Dr. Balakrishnan. I hope this thirst is never quenched in me. <br /> <br />In a nutshell, the middle class values I acquired were the gift of my grandparents. Strengthened further and delivered to me thru my parents. And I can tell you, delivered to me and my brother with the utmost efficiency and amplification. Strengthening the lessons thru personal examples and other delivery methods, which would leave indelible and deep impressions in my psyche. <br /> <br />The one common value which was strongly embraced by both my sets of grandparents was the huge importance they gave for education. This was one very visible phase of the evolution of middle class India. And possibly what laid the foundation for the knowledge based economy that India is evolving into many generations later today. The middle class knew that education was an important path towards upward mobility. And they focused on it. Ensuring a college education for all the children became a must for parents. <br /><br />India was also going thru the first flush of independence. The country embraced Nehruvian socialism. It was the time when large government owned public sector institutions came into being. Working for the government was prestigious. It was also the way to fast tracking in the new feudal order- the feudal system of government bureaucracy.Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7418667627401416906.post-36083609461637110922009-04-11T21:27:00.000+05:302009-04-11T21:29:57.782+05:30From the flood of Manu to Jewel in the crown – 4000 years of Mystery and HistoryNoah’s Ark, Legend of Gilgamesh, Manu and his fish - did these events/myths all happen independently thousands of miles apart??? Or are they one and the same and just got adopted into different myths at different times? Hard to say.<br /><br />But we can possibly say that Indian history or at least Indian myths started with the flood and Manu. <br /><br />Prior to the Aryan migration into what is today Afghanistan (Gandhara of old), Punjab, and the north of India, there was a flourishing civilisation scattered over large parts of Pakistan and what is now Rajasthan/ Gujarat in India. The Indus Valley civilisation, as it is referred to today, though not as ancient as the Egyptian or the Mesopotamian civilisation, can nevertheless rank among the really ancient well developed urban civilisations, with its own distinct language, script, arts and culture. Unfortunately, very little is known of the origins, the history, and the reason for the mysterious disappearance of this civilisation. Estimates suggest that it lasted from around 2600 BC to 1900 BC. <br /><br />With the Aryan migration (I am loath to say invasion, since the jury is still out on whether there was actually any invasion or was it a peaceful migration) also came the legends and the myths. Ancient wisdom in the form of Vedas, Upanishads and Epics. <br /><br />One can say Mahabharata was really where legend started meeting history. The great epic, culminating in the battle between the Pandavas and the Kauravas where every known kingdom aligned with one side or the other – a battle that dwarfed the Trojan War by several magnitudes. It is the Mahabharata, possibly placed around 1400 BC, (around the same time as the Santorini explosion which removed Knossos and the great Minoan civilisation from the face of the earth) that gives us a good picture of the several kingdoms which mushroomed in the great north Indian planes between Indus and Ganges rivers. It is also Mahabharata, rich in values and traditions, strong in morals and yet very practical in its outlook on how to survive in the real world, which lays down the Values that is to dominate India for the next 3500 years. Like its contemporary event, the Trojan War, or for that matter, like most of the Old Testament, Mahabharata was committed to writing only centuries later. This could explain why Ramayana, which logically relates to events that could have happened much later in actual history, could be depicted in Mahabharata as having preceded Mahabharata. For Mahabharata refers to that period in Indian history, when the Aryans were settling the north Indian region (Uttara pada). Ramayana- to the forays far down south (Dakshin pada) all the way to the colonisation of Sri Lanka. <br /><br />From that era, to the time when the British tentatively stepped in as traders and slowly by means of political will, guile, cunning and courage, made India the most prestigious addition to the sprawling British Empire in 1857, India was the land of mystery, untold wealth, magic, elephants, learned gurus and incredible wealth. It is believed that 22% of the world’s GDP was in India. <br /><br />From 500BC to 1100AD, it was a story of fragmented kingdoms, neighbouring kingdoms swallowing each other, new dynasties mushrooming, conquest by central Asians, forays by Greek (Yavana) kings, in turn conquest of Malaysian, Sri Lankan, Cambodian and Vietnamese lands by Indian dynasties.<br /><br />Great dynasties – Mauryas and Guptas came into being, spread across the subcontinent, left their indelible mark in the rich cultural and value systems of the subcontinent and disintegrated back to smaller kingdoms. Centres of power (Magadha, Kalinga) and centres of great learning (Taxila, Nalanda) sparkled briefly and went off. <br /><br /><br />More importantly, Jainism and Buddhism, two religions which both have peace and love as their central theme originated in India. Buddhism was exported out with a huge thrust of the mighty Ashoka behind it. Sri Lanka, China, and later Burma, Indonesia, Thailand- all fell to the influence of this message of peace.<br /><br />From 1100 AD onwards, the Muslim conquests of India started. There was constant pushing of territories, conquests and reconquests, succession struggles, dynastic overthrows, intrigue – mostly in North and later in central India. The south was relatively stable and peaceful. Pallavas, Chalukyas, Cholas, Pandyas, Rashtrakutas all were long stable dynasties and more importantly, even if there were boundaries constantly getting rewritten between them, the cultural continuity remained. <br /><br />The strong difference in values and culture one can observe between people from north and south India can be explained by this very vastly different treatment meted out by this current millennium. The north Indian is far more aggressive about his turf, more practical, more pushy and individualistic. People from south tend to be more laid back, more accommodating and generally contented with letting matters be. <br /><br />The last 200 years pre independence, before the whole of India was united by the British and given a national conscience and then rent asunder into 3 distinct units in the greatest human tragedies of modern world, Indians also acquired a new trait – a huge inferiority complex vis-à-vis the white westerners. And an embrasure of Gandhian principles as a defensive mechanism to prove that we are the have-nots by choice.Ramgopal Vallathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09303835084300739743noreply@blogger.com3