THE INDIAN COMMENTATOR

In Malabar , it is the season of rain; the season of monsoon. But people are under the clutch of heat. Don't be mislead by this statement. It is not the heat of the season that I am referring to, the monsoon season is usually damp and cold but the heat mentioned here is actually from fever! The majority of the population is on the fever bed. The H1N1 flu, dengue, malaria, chikun gunia , tomato fever, and so many other strange named, and mysterious types of fevers, inflict people's lives even causing them their death. The general cause, which can be summed up is the climate change, which provided the apt situations for the germs to perpetrate. There have been no precise statements made yet from the part of the government or from the health department on the causes. Simply because there are not much studies carried out on this topic and no one knows what is happening, except that someone is getting high temperature on one day, limbs being swelled up making the patients unable t...

What I understand about hospitals, from my meager sense of common understanding is that hospitals are set up for the sake of protecting those people who suffer from the lack of health and inefficiency for maintaining common human physiological functions properly. We ll, let me stress, w hat I understand is that hospitals are for treating those who are suffering from the lack of health. Am I right? I think the subjectivity of this article might be creating some problems for those who think that it is not the suitable method that should be adopted for an article. But the matter I am going to raise here, in this platform, is something personal. The topic I am going to talk, is about someone of mine own species: a human being. In more explicit terms this article is a sign of bewilderment on the number of "NO" s that I have seen in the voting counter in this site---- http://news.aol.com/ article/hospital-deports- patient/584523? icid =main|main| dl 1|link3|http%3A%2F%2 Fnews ....

Rain is God's touch. People may ask who, God is and what. I will not say anything, except that I don't know because, God is a language, which the one who knows that language, can only understand. Rain also is a language, thus; a language, which I love and live through. The life that I am talking about is not just the beating of a heart or breathing or the winking of eyes. These are just a few manifestations of life and not life. The meaning of life if not defined, would make it more meaningful. Life never ends. It includes the living presence of the body in interaction with similar and dissimilar things and circumstances, and also its death. Life continues to exist even after the death of the body. Life exists in the stopping of heart beats, struggling for breath, and in the permanently closed eyelids. These are some changes in the manifestations of life, representing a transformation. Just like what occurred in one rainy day with one of my students. It had been raining for t...

"Some people feel their need to protect this world. For this, they die and resurrect. And they call it a part of their destiny." Michael Jean Jackson, was a pop star, reigning at the peak of his fame and prosperity. One day, he felt the need to listen to himself. Not like something that he had done until that day. But a new vision, a new thought. And he realized that a new individual was growing inside him! Eventually he decided to listen. But for a pop legend, listening to himself, other than to his multi-millionaire sponsors, is a matter, less short of death. So he decided to die... "But, when the world was mourning on the loss of their beloved singer...the 'hell' was being lighted up by the one, rose from the dead."- The one and only , Michael: the mightiest !! Read and feel the ground rocking tal e! The Indian Commentator presents: MICHAEL: THE MIGHTIEST. " A tale untold, yet ." COMING SOON.

Michael Jackson was buried at 22.30 hrs,on 7-7-2009, in the Forest Lawn Cemetery in Hollywood Hills. Tributes to THE KING OF POP , and THE MAN OF MUSIC , from THE INDIAN COMMENTATOR . The world mourned, when you lie in front of the crowed, silent; as the last hours of a deep night; on a stage, motionless, as the paradox, of the cruelest kind, for you were once the occupant of every stage that rose with crowd. Michael, you might be singing, from someplace, unknown, where the sensual sight unveils, its inability to pass; where the ears hear nothing except , silence and the silence alone... We can open the doors of the mind, to your song any more, only when the ears and eyes, and all the delicate senses, learn the language that flowers can speak, the language of the wind, the language of the nature, or the language of the soul. Here is the last handful of earth, to your grave; the last stage, of your human life. Michael, may God bless your sou...

That was a rainy eve . The Baloney Theorists came running into the "Shack"--The five star hotel near the seashore from their cars, without an umbrella. They dressed in rags. Behind them, were the politicians, to whom the cars belonged, with umbrellas, all in one colour, not blue and not green from the primary colours. When they entered, the king closed the crystal door. They reached a huge hall, with closed door. One among them, bony, weak and insane looking, opened the door frantically. Inside there was nothing other than women who wore, nothing. The skinny one, undressed; caught one. Others just did the same. No innovations! The politicians met in the other room. "Let them enjoy and let us concoct the newest of its kind, a reality theory. For we are the theorists and they are political puppets." "The Baloney Theory": one said. "To block the light, to turn the 'up', into 'down', a...