Monday, 14 March 2011

Why I am a Mallu - And shall Always remain one

Technically, I am a "Palakkaadan."  That is what my Tamilian friends refer to me as.  It means a Tamilian (most commonly a Brahmin) from Kerala.  If you know even some rudimentary Tamil you will realise that this smacks of raw and undisguised contempt.  A feeling that is as bilious as Anti Semitism.

We Tamil Brahmins from Kerala are bound to carry this baggage of being the oppressed minority all our lives.  It explains our somewhat difficult to understand world view on most matters.  But that will the subject for another post.

What I wish to assert here is that no matter what the Tamilians or the Mallus say I will always be a Mallu in thought word and deed.  I do not wish to split hair to say that I am not from Palghat and that I am from Trivandrum and we consider ourselves to be a different breed, if possible of even different ethnicity.

The Mallu here is a metaphor.  An expression to describe a people that are unique and different in many ways.  And I do not care if that is worthy of approval by anyone at all.

The Mallu is first of all a sensitive soul.  His sense of dignity is stronger than that of any average person, to the point of being almost impractical.  Which is why he does not like being spoken to.  He does not like to receive favours.  He does not like to sponge off.  Which is why many a Mallu behaves like Tagore's Babus of NayanJore, even if he has never been landed gentry.

The Mallu's sense of dignity also arises from his sense of equality.  Mallus are leftists ethnically, if ever one can visualise an anthropological construct of that sort.  Take the most successful Mallu businessman that you know of.  Beneath that self aggrandising businessman you will find lurking a leftist heart.

That is also the reason why Mallus make for poor subordinates and even poorer followers.  Anyone familiar with Kerala politics will appreciate this readily.  Kerala perhaps has the largest number of political parties per capita.  It also has the largest number of party restructuring events.  The market (sic) for party restructuring in Kerala is more active than the market for corporate control in India.

Each of these parties is made up of one or more leaders, a large number of political wannabes waiting for their moment to engineer a split and start a new party that they can lead, the rest being made up of some opportunistic hangers-on for whom being with a political party is a personal need of the moment to be able to swing a transfer (or avoid one), to get a government job or for some other sundry imperative.  They are rarely there to follow a political ideology, even less to follow a leader.

The Mallu has a great sense of humour.  It is dry humour, sometimes bordering on the wicked.  That sense of humour is very important, but for which the average Mallu would be a victim of ennui - a fact that is borne by the relatively large number of suicides among Malayalis.

That brings me to the next reason - the Mallu's deep sense of futility about many things in life.  This sense of futility is like opium.  It drapes you in an envelope of langour.  It is a common backdrop for many a work of literature in Malayalam.  Like the grey that O Henry's works are set in. 

It is a pity that people who do not understand this sense of futility often mistake it for indolence.

It is a pity because the Mallu often does not do anything not because he does not want or he is not capable of.  You must realise that these finer attitudes require a fair degree of intelligence.   That is the last of the reasons that I will always want me to be a Mallu.  To be a Mallu means being intelligent.  Not in a clever worldly wise way, but in a more refined reflective way.

I cannot look at myself as being anyone other than a Mallu.  T N Seshan's notion of Palghat Brahmins being one of three Cs does not fascinate me.  I do not fancy being a cook, civil servant or a crook.  Nor do I fancy Seshan's humour or being a Palghat Brahmin.  On the contrary, I want to vigorously distinguish myself from Palghat Brahmins.

Is the Mallu so special that only he could be the repository of these attributes?  Surely no.  But on average it is more likely that a Mallu is all of these than anyone else.

So, for all these reasons, high on the endless list of things that I ask of the Lord I also pray that some day after all this frenzy of Tennyson's getting and spending is over I will be delivered back to the land I come from so that I may lay my bones there.

And that should I ever be born again, may that be somewhere on the littoral strip of earth on the south west of India that we know as Kerala.

Nanni.  Namaskaaram.

The Day After...

So finally it did not turn out to be all that original.  I was pleased with the thought that Randomly Yours would be one of its kind, at least in terms of the title.  Why did I not recall that if I had thought of it nearly every one of those six billion and some people in this world who can read and write English would have thought of that title.

That was what a simple Google search made me realise.  If that was not enough Google did not bring up my blog even on the first dozen pages.  My fragile heart was too devastated to go beyond those dozen pages.  I was afraid that if my blog did not show up at all even after I had run through all the hits I would be too heart broken to live down that disappointment.

I tried different key word combinations.  No luck. 

So here I am, notwithstanding all those kind words that friends who clicked on the link I sent said about my post, sitting with this realisation that my blogs are not going to fetch me that fifteen seconds of glory that American movies talk about.  Certainly not any time soon.

My blogs shall remain what I expected them to be when I wrote the first post - an act of pure self indulgence.

Nanni. Namaskaram.

First Post

Sairam.  Hello World.

This is my space.  My little corner where I hope to indulge my passion.  Give expression to my thoughts just as they are, unmindful of what such free speech means to me or to anyone else.  Unaffected by considerations of sense and sensibility.  Indifferent towards questions such as the relevance of what I have to say.  Intellectual bohemianism of a kind, if you like.  A way of asserting my personal freedom that just stops short of the next person's nose.  Freedom that I thought would be mine when I left the incarceration of  corporate employment but that has eluded me so far.

I hope to write about the ridiculous and the sublime in this space.  About cabbages and kings.  Of people, places and events around me that I consider worth writing about.  That is what the title of my blog suggests.  Even if it were to smack of egotism stopping just short of narcissistic.  It is randomness that might appear to be even scatter brained.

I want to start by recording my thanks to the Lord for giving me this moment that allows me the opportunity to make this post.  Even though I realise that this moment might be short lived.  More about why that might be so in another post - if there be one. 

Such an opening with a praise to the Lord is only appropriate, given the deeply religious agnostic that I am.  That is a confusing oxymoron, isnt it?  Well that is another hallmark of this blog.  It is a place for me to offload all the numerous contradictions that people seem to see in me.  A place for me to hang my psyche out for anyone and everyone to read about it. 

Watch this little nook for all that and more.  But do not get too excited.  You might not find much to titillate your inquisitiveness.  I am a Scorpio after all - as fiercely private as I am possessive.

Hasta manana...