Friday, July 31, 2009

Kerala Under Fever Threat!

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, chikungunia, 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 to walk on the other, and someone is getting itch all over the body, even after the fever subsided.

No one knows anything except the newspaper reports, which say people died of swine flu, dengue fever and so on. What the hell is happening! Is it some kind of a tribulation from hell? Is the end of the world near? Is this a foreboding for the end of the whole humanity? The fever can affect any one, even me, while I am writing this article, and anybody else, even the one from the ditches of privation or the palaces of wealth!

The matter for great distress is that no medicine is quite effective toward these viruses. The only suggestion that doctors make is, to take rest.

What are the reasons for it? Who is responsible for it? Some newspapers and the leaders of the opposition blame the government for not taking any sufficient steps for stopping the spread of the viruses. But I don't think so. Is the government responsible for providing free medicines in the government hospitals and health centers? Is the government responsible for not carrying out sufficient studies to understand the causes and cures for the virus?

Well, why do everyone expect answers for such stupid questions!

(I am not bluffing the American model "communism" as commented by Noam Chomsky in his "Responsibility of the Intellectuals"( I forgot the page number), in which he substantiates how the odd voices of the society is calmed and silenced through the labeling of an individual, if that one questions the government, as a communist, one of the most despicable terms in the US, and confining the individual into the dark dungeon of alienation. As a matter of fact, these all are the duties of the government according to the Indian constitution.)

Being a citizen of this state, it is my duty to protect the state and the government from such verbal attacks. So I hereby declare that I am going to inscribe the real cause for the fever. It is as follows:

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Friday, July 24, 2009

Fla. Hospital Deporting Patient: Why "Yes"?

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. Well, let me stress, what 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----|main|dl1|link3|

under the the news item:
Fla. Hospital Sued for Deporting Patient”. ( No offenses meant for the site.)

The one and only problem that I have, is with the answer that most people considered right for the question- "Was the hospital right to send Jimenez to Guatemala?” . Most people answered "Yes" to this question.

The news was about an illegal immigrant being sent out of the country, when he was in high need to get a medical aid. And as my scanty knowledge points out, the duty of a hospital is to treat the patients, and not to check their nationalities. Arguments, which says about such issues that are causes for serious law and order issue, in the society due to the illegal immigration, contains weight. But in this context the hospital has failed to perform its duty toward a needy human being. The legal formalities can be fulfilled late as well. The treatment was the necessary thing, from which the hospital authorities evaded themselves off.

This incident has brought another set of almost similar situations to my mind. In Kerala, the hospitals in which a considerably good treatment is available are under private ownership. The government owned hospitals here are poor in facilities and unbearable in their lack of hygiene. Thousands of people are there who depend on these government hospitals and meet their death unwillingly. There are hardly any choices. Death becomes the ultimate repercussion of the lack of money because the private owned hospitals charge the patients with such huge amounts of money that they might be unable to pay it, even if they sell themselves. In a way, it is a kind of expulsion of the needy from the source, not only by the private owners, but also by the government.

This shows that, everywhere in the world, the right to live is, limited to those who are wealthy and identified as "legal" in the specific socio-cultural context. There is an assertion of hopelessness in these lines, I know. That hopelessness, is a result of my shock from seeing the lesser number of reader's response toward the patient of the Fla hospital sue issue, which shows the majority view and the necessity for me to keep quiet. But I believe that Martin Memorial Medical Center have not to pay for a lifetime of care, for Luis Jimenez, for if they were to pay, what would the government hospitals of Kerala do, who have caused so many Luis Jimenez to deport from their lives!!

Monday, July 20, 2009


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 the last five or six days. Roads were flooded in many parts. There was water and water everywhere, in Malabar.

I was on my journey from the university to my home. It was raining heavily. And I was loving it. The road was flooded and water rushed everywhere, when the bus crossed the road. Water turned around, foamed, changed its colour, and pushed into the nearby courtyards and verandas of houses nearby. More and more water deluged into the road, as the bus moved past, swaying and slow, like a canoe through a disturbed sea.

I was in a very 'creative' mood. Each and every drop sprinkling on my face through the pores of the water covers of the bus, filled me with a divine spirit, as if being touched and felt by the supreme Being, the Almighty, God; an eternal referential, a language, and a truth.

When I reached home, it was almost dark. My mother was waiting in the veranda, for me, which was unusual. After asking some usual questions, like where were you this long and why, she confessed that she was upset and shaken.

"Don't you remember Mashood, the last year twelfth passed, he drowned, today."-And she sank into the sofa.

"Dead!"-I turned to her in shock.

"Yes. He was said to be playing in the nearby paddy fields with some kids, and there was water neck deep. He was caught into a trench, amidst the field."

"Didn't he know how to swim?"- I was in a bewilderment.

"No, he didn't. They were small kids, with him, and could not save him."-Mom was almost exhausted by the weight of the pain that she was enduring.

She owned a school. Mashood was one among the previous year's batch of twelfth standard students. I too had taught there, and he was one of my best students.

For a teacher, his students are his wealth, power and pride. And I lost my wealth, my power and my pride. For especially, it is the case with Mshood, that was a loss. He was a good student, one that fits apt for the title of "ideal". He was good at studies and was equally good at games. He had those powerful arms of which I used to feel proud. He was tall, and had height almost equal to me. I think, six feet.

I imagined, him inside the water. My student, my child, struggling to push himself up, on to the surface, pulling out his legs from the clutching mud in the trench; struggling his last moments to get his breath, and nostrils getting filled with water; realising in the fraction of a second that something is happening--a change;a transformation, from one form of existence to another, which no one in their biologically alive body has not yet experienced.

He died. That moment was not a sad one. But a happy moment since he; my student has learned and experienced something beyond his student-hood can ever give him in school. I am not sad. But it is painful since I can never see him again in his biological body, in which everyone used to identify him as Mashood.

He will be understood only through a different language now, like the language of rain...or of God.

I dedicate this article to the loving memory of my dear student Mashood...

May God bless his life to be a successful and satisfied one.

May his soul rest in peace.


Wednesday, July 8, 2009


"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 tale! The Indian Commentator presents: MICHAEL: THE MIGHTIEST.

"A tale untold, yet."


Michael Jackson's Funeral.

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 soul

rest in peace.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

The Baloney Theorists.

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',

and to create more morons!"

The Baloney Theory activated.

The night became day

and eve became morn,

good became bad

and bad turned good.

The only one laughed, was God.

For, he had turned insane!