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Step-mother Tongue

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                 A few questions lead to arguments while few arguments raise questions that only the future can answer. I was put in front of such a question when an intriguing argument filled our dining table. The other day when my friend asked me a question between his spoons of soup, ‘Which do you think is superior, Tamil or English?’ That is a question I cannot easily answer. Because I am a child of Tamil Matha and the heir of English Desk; born in, loved, and respected Tamil while researching English and English literature. I was quick on the trigger and came up with a hypothetical answer for the hypo-temperate question.                The best way to answer an uncertain question is to give a question back as an answer. I asked him, ‘Who do you think is intelligent, A Ph.D. Scholar or a Kinder Garden Kid who got a hundred marks in his exam?’ He couldn’t answer and I was glad he couldn’t. It saved me another page of explanation. No language in the world older than five thousand
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Final Year Syndrome

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                The days had become quite different now. First two years of my college life were more favouring and in fact flavouring than the days in the final year. It looks like everybody has been infected with a virus. The virus spread like a pandemic. Their behaviours changed; their attitudes changed; the criteria they had to make friends changed; while they remain or at least believed to be the same as they were. It looked to me in the beginning as if they were spurious. But I was wrong. It is the love I failed to digest. They started to express the deeply buried affections they had inside them. They started to love indifferently. The gangs started to dissolve while the whole class started to become one. I was standing away, in a fact chaotic, unable to adopt the sudden change in people around me. The sudden love from nowhere felt fake to me. It took me so long to realize how stupid I was to even confuse their true love for intimacy. How boorish I had been to them, my friends. I
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Location: Udayampalayam Road, Post, Gounder Mills, Tamil Nadu 641029, India
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I Fear To Be Extraordinary

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                 Extraordinary is alarming for it is alluring. Man has unfortunately begun to scale the differences and discriminations on the same plate though they are not meant to be. A basket of apples may be different from a basket of oranges but they are both fruits. Man’s difference in caste, color, section, birth, and religion must be viewed from the same standpoint. They are all the outcome of obscure extraordinariness. If extraordinary people were not born, extraordinariness wouldn’t have been beckoning.               If it was not Christ, Christianity was no more; if it was not Buddha, Buddhism was no more; if it was not Krishna, Hinduism was no more. The birth of extraordinary people creates clans and in turn the clan-isms that are indestructible and multiplies on every generation geometrically into a perpetual prestige. And the social insecurities add fuel to the fire by provoking the statures of clans.               It is not so important whether they are Incarnations or
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Location: India
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