PARADIGM SCRAWL

What makes Elections 2009 different from the ones before? For the first time, so many celebrities are involved. The youth is aggressive about casting their first vote. The independent candidates from educated and elite backgrounds promise progressive administration of the country and their readiness to give up profitable business or professions and come and serve the people.

Among the smaller things related to the elections, are the concerns of a first time voter. Who to vote? Sometimes we don't see good in anyone, so then, what to do, just never vote? That's what pushes most of the educated class to not vote. The difficulty in going through the formalities to get a voters ID, then the queue to vote, "(sighs) We'd rather stay at home, in AC and watch TV"

Okay you're a concerned citizen, who has gone through all the years of waiting to get your Voters ID issued and then wait in the queue to vote, but who to vote?!

How many voters do some sort of background verification? Is education necessary for politicians? I am particularly impressed by this first time voters views Sushen Pai

" With the election fever around the corner and being the first time voter that I am, I just wonder..

The first and foremost fact is that none of the candidates are worth voting for. All of them surely have allegations stacked against them or worse, a criminal background; though I must admit I have not done any kind of background verification. I don’t need to! Another thing I’m sure of, without having to verify, is that they are all uneducated. School or college drop outs at some time, they took to politics like the oft repeated Johnson’s definition of politics being the last resort of scoundrels. They neither have any sort of developmental works to their credit nor a flattering profile. The power mongers took to politics with the sole intention of growing rich by milking the system dry, thanks to the million loopholes and our shameless custom of bribery.
I do not want to choose any of them but the fact remains that, I can only choose the lesser sin of the lot. The Electronic Voting Machines rule out the option of invalid votes. The 49-O forms will never be found at the polling booths and heck, I will not have someone else voting in my name.
I’m no expert and I may be wrong talking with respect to India, but I somehow feel the dual-party system, as in USA, works well. There are only two options to choose from, it is either this or that! There will never be an issue of coalition government or a Hung parliament. Somehow we will have a better choice of candidates, if two-party system is the case.

Even better, we can have an ombudsman for ticket seeking candidates. The candidates should have at least a formal degree from a recognized university and a profile that matches the requirements as mentioned in a framework set by the connoisseurs of the arena. This framework should be revised to stay in tune with the changing times and necessities.

Sledging is another commonly used technique. Allegations against opposition party candidates sensationalized especially when elections are around the corner. Another thing is the way issues are blown way out of proportion. Little do they realize that, any publicity is good publicity; tasteless nevertheless. The Varun Gandhi episode, Pramod Mutalik versus Renuka Chowdary and the Pink Chaddi campaign, Modi bashing for publicity, seeking mercy votes and targeting minority vote banks etc. All this should somehow be nipped in the bud, it is disgusting!

Another thought of mine is that only tax payers should be eligible to vote as only they truly value their hard earned money and put in the effort of correctly deciding who should lead and how. A teenybopper I once knew voted for a candidate at the last elections (she was then a first time voter) because she thought he was cute! A bedridden octogenarian (May his soul now rest in peace!) said he always admired Nehru and declared that voting for the daughter-in-law of the family was his way of showing loyalty. How can we expect to have proper leaders when we have voters biased on such unreasonable terms?
It is probably the Ayn Rand influence but we cannot sit back and expect things to become the way they ought to be. The system will not change till the leaders change and the leaders will not change till the people desire the change. We are a democracy and we should find a way of getting the changes we desire to see.

To end it all, I’m just a first time voter and these are just a few of my concerns! "

Though movie stars have played a role in politics before, siding up with various parties, this time it is different. While some film stars or filmmakers are contesting elections, others are canvassing for various parties, and still others are working with grassroot organizations in helping people to register and vote in the upcoming general elections. Right from versatile stars like Kamal Hassan to newbies like his daughter, Shruti Hassan, they have a statement of their fans.

Indian fans are more devoted to their stars than god. No wonder political parties spend crores of Rupees in roping them in, hoping to convert the star-campaigns into favorable votes. After all, we are talking about the world's largest democratic election!!!

How often have you read people’s blogs, profiles, etc and felt like connecting with them?! It’s a mixed feeling of whether I should or not. Networking Online sounds very introverted. Don’t we hate claiming we knew someone through their blog or worse, a networking site? But, if you don’t get to run into the people you want to meet, what do you do? What if there is this really impressive person you just got to know? Or you’re going doing the same rare thing and you’re looking for peers?

1) Be direct- There’s nothing as stupid as trying to beat around the bush. Compliment them (if any) and mention why you are contacting them. “You’re website and the way you write is great and got me really interested to get to know you.” Or just leave it at “I just thought I’d convey my compliments”. Most people would respond to compliments. You can pick it up from there. If they don’t or may be averse to talking to strangers. Or they just have too many fans!

2) Email- If it’s business, then why not email. Keep it brief. Tell what you have to offer, your USP, contact details. Be prepared to know, it might never be read if it looks like some email-ad. Do be a bit personal and mention what makes you specially interested in them? What it’s in it for them? “We were impressed seeing your range of products on your website. Dealing in …, we’d like the opportunity to present…”

3) Don’t freak them out- Unfortunately, I have a peculiar mind of remember what I don’t need to (and ofcourse forgetting what I need to). I happened to remember a face from my friend’s “friend’s list’ Just that her photo would appear each time I’d write on my friend’s wall. I ran into the girl in actual and identified her. She obviously expected me to say how I knew her, and I blurted “Oh, I’ve seen your picture on the internet”. That sound’s stalk-y! So, rule one, whether people care or not, better to mention how you reached to them. Don’t push- Of course, if it’s for a personal reason, that you’re connecting, have no expectations.

4) Add them- If you can, of course and wait for them to accept you. I hate that limbo period. If it’s Gtalk, you won’t even get to say anything. But if it’s Yahoo messenger,FB, you could send a message as you add them. Perhaps introduce yourself before they ignore you.

5) Don’t go overboard- Okay, this is someone who is super-interested and has you hooked. Or you are in desperate need of a friend who’s going to go to the same university (from your country)? Once they’ve accepted your invitation , don’t jump on them. (Unless it’s urgent business, it can wait)

6) Let them know you- I know the freaky part is to reveal too much of details when you are perhaps just expanding your social graph. Not hoping to see them at your doorstep! However, Letting them see your public side, may instill some confidence in you. So somewhere mid-way is the most prudent idea. Like knowing your social circle may show you’re a real person. Some of your connections may add value as well. This is possible over a networking platform. If you have a website or blog or any other public listing, etc, something that lets people reach out to you or know about you ,etc. It’s not a must, though. Not everyone is jobless to research on you.

7) Phone Or In person- Of course you’ll know if it’s working. As I always say “You never know , what’s on the other side of the keyboard.” So Better remove the virtual phantom you know to a real person. Not really a requisite, but if it works, or you have the time for it, better go for that option.

8) Limit it- The only and best reason for networking online, better be professional! Maximum you could go is connecting with a friend you really need to make because nobody else is taking a post graduate diploma in ashthanga yoga or some very necessary reason like that. Or someone really rare just like you? Please don’t make it sound like most of your friends circle is filled with virtual phantoms. (I hate using the word – netpal)

9) Common Friends/Acquaintances/Experiences/Backgrounds-/Interests- That would make it easier. "I am a stamp collector as well", "I was in University of..at that time too". " Are you also from ...".. Please don't get corny like "Hey, I guess we know each other, if not, we could?" Ugh!

10) Prudence- Though it’s a contradicting statement to being direct, do be genuine about why you’re interested in them, but wait till you’re ready to trust your details with them, before jumping on to telling them too much about you. I am a poor little kid who gets freaked out if someone knew more about me than I knew about them. That’s the feeling. If you’re wondering what harm it could cause, contact me, I’ll tell you what all fun it can be. (PS- I won’t take responsibility for consequences.)

When I was asked to choose a topic for a free speech that was a part of our Leadership and Management skills workshop, I decided something that would easily and naturally come out of memory. For someone as pensively lost as me, "Blonde Moments" seemed apt! I announced it only to hear people ask what it meant. Forget the lexicon, I'd define it as an embarrassing moment caused out of one's own ignorant act or statement, or in simple words -stupidity!

I'm no etymologist, but I suppose it comes from the conventional belief that the golden haired blondes maybe attractive on the outside but speak to them, learn the depth of dimwit. Perhaps that's how the phrase "Beauty and brains don't go together" came about. Like, in India, there are "saddu" jokes, in the west,blonde jokes are popular. Though in reality, it has nothing to do with the real IQ level of the saddus or the blondes, it's just come to mean that way. So much so that, when someone did something stupid and embarrassed themselves, they'd say "Oh, I just had a blonde moment"

Before I walked up, my classmate Sonia asked, "Blonde moments? You? Karthika?".

I respect Sonia's opinion on my sanity, but here's there secret you shouldn't be knowing- I have more blonde moments than an average individual. Just fortunately for me, most of these moments go unnoticed at large but regrettably only the people whom I dearly hope haven't noticed, would do!

There is a certain expectation that the nick, "nerd "pressures on you. Last year, we had two theory exams on the same day. For a pure commerce material, theory papers may be creative writing session. It didn't really matter which of the two came first. I walked into the exam hall in full gusto and got the paper that was passed back and skimmed through.

Wow! Familiar stuff… I ticked off the questions I had to write. Rolled up my sleeves, slashed the margins on all the sheets, sat upright like a real know-it-all, and just as I begin, the girl beside me, pokes.....

"Hey..That's my BBA paper"

Cry. Sob. Weeps.

Blonde moments at workplaces can be blasphemous! On an internship, while interacting with a colleague, I was hardly listening. I had to make the best use of the short period there and was hence, I was mentally occupied thinking about my next question. As a response to something, I murmured, "so, where does your dad work?"

"He's retired"

"Oh! I'm sorry!"

"No no! He's just retired", he replied in panic.

Realizing my dire mistake, I said again, "Oh! I m sorry"

He got confused! I just hope he assumed humanity has reached the stage of empathy that there were advance condolences for even retired individuals.

Well, if you thought embarrassing moments with your close ones didn't matter? How does it sound if food is your first love, and your parents or your partner call you when you're mouthful, and you said "Hey, can't talk now! My lips are occupied with my first love. Can you call later?"

You're lucky if they do!

Come on, no one was born brainy. Life's a wisdom walk. You learn to walk only by falling over. Everyone has blonde moments, but more than being the joker of the moment, the better part lies in acknowledging it and laughing it off. Like Elsa Maxwell puts it, "Laugh at yourself, before anyone else can!"

Published in The Hindu , NxG http://www.go-nxg.com/?p=2702

No words I write can ever say
How much I hate you everyday
As time goes on, my loathing grows
How much I dislike you, no one knows.

This frustration in my mind
This abhorrence in my life,
Is in my heart
And is mine to keep.

Heartaches in this world are many
But mine is worse than any.
My heart aches as I whisper loud,
Wish you'll never come, no doubt.

Life has changed so much
It isn't like before
Earlier people did nothing but study
And had no time for sea shores

Now, we have so my obligations
Radio, Phone, Movies and Televisions
Betcha people in the past couldn't have done this well
Had they had all this additional…

I ain't partying hard
Nor picking rows on streets
Nor thieving or anything else
that'll bring my folks ignominy

Yet, I fall into this trap of deep perils
Each time you come by,
Please realize the tribulations you 'cause,
& never plunge by ..

So,Please say goodbye
Monsieur exam results,
Signing off ,
Resultophobia

“Hey, can I leave? It takes about an hour to reach home and I’ll miss the bus if I don’t leave now….” I try explaining to a perfectly bemused lady in front of me.
It wasn’t an excuse to escape the lackluster woman I was supposed to be romancing with. Well, I had figured out hours ago that she became as uninterested as I and the whole thing turned out to be such a time-waste more than a flop. The excuse didn’t work well with the girl who has only traveled by luxury cars and has never tried a public bus in Chennai. It seemed obvious to both of us that we wanted to leave which we did, with an unintentional “see you later”. I smirk at her ignorance, prosperity and blush with embarrassment at my own mediocrity.

The bus stop was crowded as usual. A sick man had been lying there for week. I wonder if he was dead. Flies, mosquitoes and other insects , the names of which I don’t know, hovered over the body. I cover my nose with my hand and waited for the bus to Mylapore. I resist the urge to go and ask a group of girls standing in the stop if they had seen the 29C bus leave. One of the tube lights in the bus stop flickered and suddenly went off. An extremely crowded 41D came, stopped and left. Then came another 41D. Closely followed by another. I hope my 29C comes this often.

A group of girls giggle noisily and a nerdy guy is reading a book with the light of his mobile phone. I moved up to the guy and noticed “Income Tax” printed on the top of the book. “Must be a CA student”, I mutter under my breath. I shrug at his seriousness. People are too worried about their families, studies, careers, everything. “Survival of the Fittest” is most frequently discussed in the present day I suppose. Even Darwin himself must have not thought so much about it. The fittest gets the admission, gets the interview card, and gets the job and the gets the right partner. You’ve got to compete for everything these days.

Another group of college students hovered under the bus stop. I almost fell on the girl with the ID card. It’s frustrating when people push, pull and ram in motion when a bus comes. My heart rings an alarm when I see another group approaching the bus stop. I silently prayed they don’t want 29C.

An old, blind lady wanted to cross the street. She looked worn out. Maybe she’s a beggar. Anyhow I didn’t budge. What if my 29C came when I was at the other end of the road helping this oldie ? A strikingly pretty girl turned around to give me a disgusted look.
See how my image gets damaged? Now speak of survival of the fittest. How am I expected to run help an old lady and catch my bus, if it comes when I am at the other side of the road?

I can’t take this anymore. This population and the competition! I think the Earth is ruined with a new-fangled malady. A disease, rather. You know what disease I am talking about, yes; of course, it is the disease of too many mouths to feed. Now, let us think about the principal evils of our planet. The Earth has only one major problem: humans, and to be unambiguous, too many humans. Overpopulation is in my honest opinion, the most serious problem on earth. That, my friend, is reality! How many people are completely dispossessed – they live on earth, they are from Earth, but they possess not even one square millimeter of their home planet! This is a very mean catastrophe! How many don’t get to travel by their own bikes, cars or any other “own” vehicle? (Why are we talking about owning a vehicle, when owning a place of abode seems to be impossible? Do we need vehicles more than homes? Ironically, there are many people who own vehicles but not homes.)

Overpopulation leads to neck breaking competition, the depletion of essential non-renewable resources, destructive wars, pollution, acid rain, the depletion of the ozone layer, greenhouse effect, and the poisoning of Earth., erosion of soil, the annihilation of other living species and the destruction of important ecologies, the obliteration of the atmosphere, aberrant variations in weather patterns, the possible heating – or cooling – of the earth and the accompanying rise – or fall – in sea levels, nuclear waste, and so on. I can just go on forever.

This isn’t something I’ve started to worry about recently. When we were first taught about overpopulation, in fourth or fifth grade, I couldn’t get sleep that night, worrying if water would last till I die. Would there be water to drink or to shower? Would I have to die of thirst or stink? With over population will everyone get a job? Will there be jobs enough to employ me and my family and my friends and my neighbors and ……
Oh! There are just too many people. Okay, will there be a job at least for me? Will I be able to save money to buy myself a bike someday? Or would have all the oil resources and petrol been exhausted by the time I buy a bike?

The bus I am desperately waiting for comes and everyone at the bus stop dash for it. I run, but unable to hide my gentlemanliness I make way for all the ladies to get in. The conductor blows his whistle and I, having no other choice jump onboard. One foot is on the first step into the bus and the other foot is just hanging loose. There are another six people suspended to the bus like me. The bus is leaning to one side with all that weight. My hands clutch on to the bus window’s grill and the door. I realize those ladies for whom, I made way must be thinking what a “loser” I am. They are comfortably seated whilst I am hanging on like a Spiderman. Some girls think we are trying to impress them with our heroism. Please, do not confuse it with gentlemanliness! I still blame the overpopulation. Everyone is trying to impress their family, friends, bosses, colleagues and even strangers. Survival of the fittest, remember? So much so I can’t even live with good manners without being called as a “loser”.

Friends, face it. We now live in a world when a new baby is born, you worry about the resources it will need to grow up, survive and again, procreate. If it becomes unwell, it will perhaps require even more limited resources. Meanwhile it will worry about this overpopulation like me, who is standing (read as hanging) on a bus which has a capacity of thirty people but is now carrying more than fifty, while group of girls sit contentedly, perhaps even turn back (I hope), to look at this Spiderman who saved them from dangling for their lives on the footboard of 29C.

DISCLAIMER : Creativity allows writing from another's perspective which goes beyond all existing traits, including gender, hence don't worry till your hair turns Grey! I'm "Miss" Karthika!

A lavish dwelling
With all material pleasures
A gratifying feast
Again redundantly profuse
An enviable wardrobe
That could clad many for a year
The best of everything
The newest too
Yet it’s just a golden cage
Which I’m born into

I flinch when others
Envy my silver spoon
For what I have not
Is a normal life
With a birthright to laugh in joy
But merely a mechanical life

For what I have not
A soul to share my life with
Many souls perhaps…
Understand me for,
I’d rather have gruel with many
Than eat cake alone
So here I am,
Free to live but not to fly
Live royally, but cry in this bonded life
Hope decaying in futile rage
Like a bird a golden cage

Sequined silk and golden chains
Fail to heal the scars that remain
Making me learn that joy comes not from wealth
But from loving people and sound health.

But here I am imprisoned
Where I don’t live
But merely exist
With heavy volumes that
I ought to read
For a rewarding career it seems
All for what?
To eventually build another
Golden cage for my victims
Yet to be borne and born by me?

Rich spoilt child is what you protect me from
No need to, I tell you
But why does a plea for a normal social life
Have to mean pubs or discotheques?
Instead why remind me of the diamond walls
That have, been built for me
Like I asked for it?
I seek not, the whole world
But merely, my share in it.

Free me,I am a little golden bird
In this golden cage..

© G N Karthika 2008

The first waves splash
Gently against the rocks
As the day goes
Harder on the rocks
Engulfing and enveloping in his strong waves …..
At noon the sun burns the rocks
But the water will cool
And the rocks will await for those warm waves
Come evening the waves will subside
The excitement of the day is no more
For the sea now romances the moon
At this moment the rocks will sadly await …
For the morning
For the sea…
But yet again, next evening
The rocks will be alone
Waiting for the morning
Waiting for the sea..
But how long to wait??
The sea will never stay
With the rocks forever
So why wait??
Just like they always say
Today’s sorrow is tomorrow happiness…
Someday, the hard waves,
Powerful tides would have
Beaten the rocks to granules
Grains of fresh sand
Forming a beautiful beach
An abode for all love
All affection and all fun..
And then will realize the sea
His waves and tides
That without the rocks
He would ne’er be
The blissful, gentle, beautiful beach
That they form together , now….
© G N Karthika 2006

In the morning time, the high tides splash against the rocks. When the sun stings the rocks, the high tides splashes and soothes. In the evening the tides are low and the rocks still yearn for those relieving splashes. But it seems as if the reflection of the moon in the water signifies that the water now chooses to spend time with the forever beautiful moon. Again the next morning, in the absence of the moon, the sea again reaches for the already seduced rocks that are forever waiting for the soothing water. But the sea will return to reflect and romance the moon in the evening again. Yet the rocks patiently wait…Over the years… the consistent splashes would have eroded the rocks to granules of sand forming a gorgeous sea… Then the sea will realize that without the rocks that have become sand today, it cannot be the stunning sea that everyone admires now…

Similarly in life, in moments of despair, you would have met people who would have set you sailing but they may not realize the impact they’ve made on you. Probably they yearned for companionship and found you as an alternative. Such people will not stay with you forever. You may go on waiting, missing and adoring them forever but they just move on and forth in life. You’ll be hurt at heart. But someday in future, when that person turns back and looks, that person will realize that you were the one who is the reason for their success. What’s the use of this bitter realization now? Even you will be successful, admired and adored, someday. Swallow hard and move on in life. Your day will come.

“Breathtaking! Brilliant! Beautiful!”

That’s what is very likely to come out from your mouth when you’re done.

Arthur Golden’s Memoir’s of a Geisha, is one fantastic novel I’ve read in a long, long time. A spectacularly feminine tour into the life of a geisha. Initially I was under a delusion that Golden was the translator of a Geisha’s autobiography.

I was astonished that a man wrote this book! It’s incredible that a man has so meticulously covered the minutest and intricate details of a woman’s life, feelings and her society. Incredibility amplifies to hear that it’s an American man who has written with such elaborate details about the Japanese, with such an effortless style. I wonder if, even some of the metropolitan Japanese are aware this well about their own culture.

Coming to the story, Memoirs of a Geisha, illustrates the life of Sakamoto Chiyo, who is sold to an okiya, a house for geisha. Despising her stunning grey-blue eyes, Hatsumomo, a leading geisha of Gion and the only geisha that okiya, is cruel to Chiyo from the very beginning. Sensing that she would definitely pose threat to her fame, she also plots against Chiyo to ruin her chances of becoming a Geisha. Mameha, a good-hearted, pious, intelligent, beautiful and the most popular Geisha of Japan, who is also despised by Hatsomono, decides on training Chiyo to become a Geisha. Unnerved by Hatsomono’s quick route to making “Pumpkin” (Chiyo’s peer at the okiya) a geisha, Mameha plans slowly and strategically, towards making Chiyo, the best one. She observes auspicious dates and changes Chiyo’s name to Sayuri, on her becoming of a Geisha.

Right from managing Sayuri’s clients, fame and rivalry from Hatsomono to Sayuri’s mizuage, Mameha shows tactfulness and intellect. Sayuri not only becomes a famous geisha, with important dignitaries and top businessmen as her clients, she manages to encounter with her beloved Chairman, who changes her life right from the first meet, which was when Sayuri was a forlorn child, Chiyo. Chairman wipes off her tears and gives her money to buy shaved ice and from that day, her heart was all set to become his. It is later revealed that Chairman had mentioned to the renowned Mameha to take up on pretty Chiyo, for geisha-training, , which altered her life forever. Only because he told Mameha to seek out the girl with the blue-grey eyes did Chiyo become the geisha Sayuri.

The story ends with Sayuri settling in the US with her own teahouse there.
The novel has several other intricate and important sequences of events within. And to write an honest and complete review for this novel would result in another novel by itself.

My cousin, Meenakshi and I argued over our acceptance about the life of a geisha. While, my cuz discarded it saying, “How different is it from a keep? And Sayuri’s mizuage (selling her virginity to the highest bidder) is somewhat of ceremonial prostitution.” I somehow perceived Geishas are entertainers and dancers and I eulogize Golden for his style of writing.

However, the suing of Arthur Golden for breach of contract and defamation by Mineko Iwasaki arouses further interest in the real life of a Geisha and slightly alters the regard for Golden’s novel.

Iwasaki, who was once Japan’s most famous Geisha, who was one among the many geishas, Golden had interviewed for his novel, was obviously a image for Golden’s main character Sayuri, who is also depicted as the most famous geisha. Many incidents in her life and the storyline are similar and it is easy for anyone to guess that Sayuri was obviously based on Iwasaki. Besides, Iwasaki is mentioned as a source in Golden’s acknowledgements. Iwasaki had agreed to share her experience but her anonymity was important due to the traditional code of silence about the Geisha’s clients, and this breach had resulted in her receiving threat calls as well. Golden is also sued for defaming the Geisha in the “mizuage” and confirming the widespread mistaken belief that Geishas practice ceremonial prostitution. However, this is a serious inaccuracy in the novel. In Memoirs, the mizuage is depicted as a deflowering ceremony, in which the geisha had physical relations with a client for the first time. However, this type of coming-of-age was practiced by the courtesans called oiran. A geisha's coming-of-age involved changing from apprenticeship to adulthood, outwardly signified by a change in hairstyle and clothing.

Despite the very serious errors, Golden deserves full credit for: one, such in-depth research into the Japanese subculture; two, his highly commendable style of writing, which nearly creates a stunning scenic imagery in our minds as if watching it in real, or perhaps living it; and finally for such perfectly feminine writing from a woman’s stance.

After all, to err is human, so go-ahead, and definitely read this book. I don’t have to tell you, I am sure, you’ll be looking out for Iwasaki’s autobiography (Geisha of Gion), next, for rectifying the doubts that the errors in Golden’s novel would have created.

“Mother”, the magnum opus of the revolutionary Russian writer, Maxim Gorky, divulges to the reader, the a somewhat accurate peep into the lives of the working class people in soviet union in later half of 19th century and early stages of 20th century when the formerly agrarian Russia enters into a capitalist mode. The story plays with poignant themes to express the stressed lives of the factory workers, their families and their cynical outlook towards life.

Written during around the time of Industrialization, the novel reveals how the ordinary soviet plebs realized, stirred and involved in an upheaval and mêlée against the autocratic czar and the capitalists of the country which ultimately ended with the great October Revolution.

Like most revolutions, this one is also ignited at the base of the society, and the “people power” is employed to overthrow the existing servitude, apathy and trepidation. In “Mother”, Gorky takes the reader through that transformational phase where the revolutionaries persistently struggle to make their initial ignition in the minds of the people and persevere to keep it burning and how the uprising evolves to the revolution.
The plot concentrates on Pelageya Nelovna – the widow of a petty factory worker Vlassov, who stays away from social consciousness and revolutionary movements because of the burden of her life itself. She is accustomed to an outlook towards life, where men work till their bodies are completely tired, drink and beatup their wives and children to sublimate their frustration. However , she begins to transform when her son Pavel Vlassov, who takes a different direction when compared to other people living in the workers townships and moves in the path of revolution and eventually becoming an absolute part of the revolution itself, and inspired thousands of soviet workers lived under the capitalist society of the then soviet union. Initially, she is fearful that her son's Bolshevik revolutionary activities will bring disaster on him and the family. As the story unfolds and the son's commitment grows in line with the government's repressive policies the mother starts, slowly, very slowly, to get the point of his work. Along the way her own `politics' change and by the end she is as committed to the cause as her son. Her banner is now red She became “representative mother” for the country calling and supporting her children to fight for their rights.

Though, Gorky adopts a slow-paced, dragging style of writing, “Mother” is a good piece of social propaganda with a great, radical story.

The E-book can be downloaded for free, at : http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/3783 or read online at http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/g/gorky/maksim/g66m/ or http://www.marxists.org/archive/gorky-maxim/1906/mother/index.htm

Disclaimers:

Firstly, I'd like to inform you that the following content is a memoir-cum-testimonial. Had I let the words flow out freely, it would have most certainly, turned out to be dreary. Hence, I decided to go with sarcasm, if not humor, which means, readers should take everything in a lighter vein, lest the matter offends you.

Secondly, I urge all my classmates to read it, and recommend it to other classmates "ONLY" and I express my apologies to those to whom I haven't emailed myself, as it is, without doubt, only because of not having your email address.

Thirdly, I would appreciate it, if you'd reply and expressing your comments on the write up and also adding your points to the memoir, which I hope to compile and resend to all.

Fourthly, I understand that we are nearly pushing past second year and hence, apologies for the delay of "first year memories".

Fifthly, please acknowledge this as a joint diary to pen down our college days as an when it happened. Someday in life, when we re-read the same, I am confident; it will flood you with nostalgia.

Finally, thank you for your valuable time on this major build-up unless the subsequent content lives up to your expectations. (*laughs*)

Truly yours,
Karthika

FIRST YEAR MEMORIES

Contrasting to the contemporary, "Umm... Well, You see, because…Err …. So Where do I begin……?", end of year memoir, let me begin this write up, rather "professionally", as we began the first semester of our B.Com so as "to maintain the highly reputed decorum" of our "much-loved-by-students" college. Fortunately for us or by the Almighty's clemency, we had the opportunity to breathe in a more "student-ly" atmosphere in the second semester rather than the throat-clutching "professional" one that we had to in the first sem. If we recall, there wouldn't be much to recollect in the first semester, except Abhilasha. Most of us, felt that M.O.P. (Hang on, is it Most Outrageous Prison?) would have sucked out the best of our senses before we passed out.

By God's Bliss, the second semester allowed us to be casual at various points in the class, helped us make more friends and of course, really made me, at the end, enjoy college. Personally, the first semester had drained my every last drop of hope of being able to survive in this city. I can't imagine, I despised, the class, the college and even the city, just because of one constituent that was making life miserable for me and I swear this is true, I would have left the college or maybe Chennai itself, hadn't minor changes taken place in the human resources of the institution. I repeat, I never imagined "one" mortal, yes, just one entity had made me loathe Chennai itself. (Yeah, for those of you who are scratching your heads on that, never mind, I just overwhelmed with emotions, personal, not to be understood and just in case you did. Bravo! You're my pal! )

The second semester however had more to remember: (Just in case you don't understand the subsequence, it's just the fun you've missed!)

1. Significant ones being, killing our Srilankan Comrade with sagas of books, most of which even I haven't read, just for the fun of enjoying her expression of repugnance.
2. Confiding in the Queen of Eyeliner and some more associates about someone from Loyola who presented Teddy bears to me (Muah)!
3. Finishing the statistics project while the presentation was going on in class and managing to finish it in 5 mins and presenting it in 2 mins and getting 13 on 15, which I suppose is what most of the other teams got.
4. Listening to my underground officials who told me who bitched about whom, what and why.
5. Getting to sit at my favorite place so I can admire Bangles and Eyeliners. *ugh* *laughs* *stay far away*
6. Getting to Queensland and all of us, swearing at guys over there who didn't understand what "Buck off" meant, ( read B as F)
7. Enjoying bharatnatyam performances every time our NCC victor cum possessor of a N series Nokia passes by. (dancing while walking Talent Cup- Ta da!)
8. Observing the class rip into smithereens of linguistic groups. *sigh*
9. French classes where we slogged with verbs and conjugations*
10. Accounts Classes where we understood**
11. Logic classes which were supposed to take place but all I recollect it perhaps witnessing the shoot for a silent movie .
12. Watching the highly informative and entertaining Channel MOP and listening to MOP Fm on a daily basis and re-listening to it in the evening , because of our dedication and devotion to the institution.***
13. Drinking lots of water, "yawning" with peace and breathing with ease which we couldn't in the first semester.
14. Timeless other enjoyable moments.
15. Timeless other displeasing moments.

In conclusion, I'd like to request you to add your comments and add your memories of our college days.

Thank you once again for your time for reading this and straining your brains over it and apologize for the damages so caused****.

Cheers,

GNK

*over SMS
**that the sender of the communication didn't have any idea about the message at all.
***what's the frequency by the way????
**** Kindly control your annoyance. Compensation will not be made for chappals thrown at me.