The Writer and Her Context

I came across this interesting piece on the writer and his context that seems to influence to a great extent his writing or even his craft. Read this engaging piece by Tishani Doshi, although I would argue that she could have written in a more engaging style.

http://www.thehindu.com/books/the-mutual-admiration-and-animosity-society/article23271081.ece

Although poorly read, I have come across this in a few instances myself.  Many years ago I read Amitava Ghosh mention in an interview that writers plumb their lives for material for their novels.  Arundhati Roy is said to have fallen back on her own childhood for the main characters of her prize winning debut.  As did URA according to another review of his Suragi that also appeared in the same edition of The Hindua as Tishani Doshi's piece.  Not to forget Ruskin Bond on whom I wrote a couple of posts that you can read here, if you like, just in case you have read them earlier.  http://sgchalayil.blogspot.in/2015/12/ruskin-bond-live.html and http://sgchalayil.blogspot.in/2018/01/bonded-again.html

So that does not surprise me quite.  What did take me by surprise were the extreme rivalry and jealousy between writers, as between Turgenev and Tolstoy and the extent to which they could do to be able to disapprove as Tolstoy is supposed to have done just to show that Shakespeare was no good!

Well, behind those great pens and beneath those immortal writings there were, it would appear, some very ordinary humans, given to the average failings that many of us might have.  Or I certainly do.  Like every time I see Sriram I write I keep looking for something that I can pick on.  I am yet to find one though.

The difference though is that beyond that pettiness I have very little else to show.  Unlike these great writers.  Or for that matter my good friend Sriram.

Now think of the great souls that composed many of the famous Indian scriptures.  They were just happy to leave them behind with no trace of their own identity and let posterity treat them as words from an unseen, unknown of, formless, anonymous God!

Anyway enjoy reading Doshi's piece...

Nanni....Namaskaaram...

Ugadi 2018 and the year that was

Interestingly, yesterday, the day just before Ugadi, our academic year drew to a close.  It was convocation day. 

The usual things happened. We all went in a procession.  Teachers and taught alike, under the watchful gaze of those who manage us and keep us on the straight and narrow.  They are an interesting bunch.  But I do not envy them.  I certainly don't wish to trade places with them.

The Chief Guest spoke as did everyone else who had to.  Degrees and diplomas were granted to those "who had been examined and found worthy" by the institution.  Medals were awarded to those even worthier, arguably.

And everyone sat solemnly through the whole evening, in spite of the rains testing our resolve.

Convocations are generally a solemn ceremony.  I approach them with mixed feelings.  I look forward to them because they are the culmination of many months of effort for everyone in the institution.  I don't like the fact that they mark the departure of many fellow-humans.

Following painful denouements some years ago I have come to be more rational in the way I deal with the after-effects of convocation.  The results have been encouraging.  I have been progressively been able to go home with a heart that is less and less heavy.

But is it because of the rational way of dealing with the movement of the students?  Or is it that my  mind is filled even more with the thought soon I will no longer be part of this important day in the life of IIMB, once I retire?

It is hard to say.  Understanding oneself is so hard.  And yet we claim to know everyone else that comes into our lives that we even put them into boxes, pass judgements on them.

The late Professor Ashok Sahni used to often remind us that if a man or a woman cannot even understand his or her spouse how can he claim to understand  his friends and colleagues.  I go one step further.  Let alone the spouse.  Can I say I understand myself?

This year's convocation left me sadder though for a different reason.  Being an institutional matter and being a loyal citizen of the institution I shall not dwell any further on this matter.  In any event it is my personal view.  But a view that will leave me sad for a long time, if not forever.

I also liked the Chief Guest Mr.  Piramal taking the trouble to know what the all-rounders and medalists had done to win those medals.  I am sure those winners valued those few moments as much as they did the medals.

Personally AY 2017-18 has been a mixed year.  It is the year I returned from my sabbatical.  I came back hoping to be a good and liked teacher.  They are not always the same.  I hoped to do many things that I could not for the years that I had been Chair of NSRCEL and prior to that as Chair of OIA.

The year did not quite turn out that way.  My core course teaching turned out to be sad and disappointing.  In particular one section, Section D, made me feel utterly worthless.  On one not so happy day, I must say that I regretted even having chosen to be a teacher.

May be I deserved it.   But then up until then no group of students had made me feel so.  I felt like I was a performer who had been hired to show and tell.  And then when I fell short I felt like the performer who had not earned his nickels.

The health of someone dear to me in the family also went through some issues.  While I tried to not let that come in the way of my work it did pull me back to a certain extent.

This was in addition to the ghosts of the past assailing me in the form of pangs of affinity for people from the past who have moved on.  Of whom I know very little anymore.  Of whose whereabouts I care so much for.  As in the past I prayed to the Lord to give me the good sense to move on.  As I noted in an earlier post and as I say often the greatest Grace that one ask of the Lord is the ability to move on.

In the event I can only pray to God to give me a better year in 2018-19.  I pray for His Grace, now especially that I have taken on new administrative responsibilities, even though I know I do not deserve it.

Nanni...Namaskaaram...