Showing posts with label commonplace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label commonplace. Show all posts

Sunday, 26 May 2024

The Morality of Loss Aversion

Why do we admire the correction of a wrong more than a hundred implementations of the right? We seem to expect the latter so much that we take it for granted.

Why is that most of our fiction, stories and movies celebrate violence in the guise of punishing the wrong doer far far more than very non-violent acts worthy of appreciation? Is it because fiction exaggerates the rare which is what we like to see, rather than commemorate the good which is somehow boring by frequency.

We see the same in art. A hundred beautiful swans is not worthy of appreciation - they are merely decorative, but one swan among crows or pigeons or ducks is considered worthy?

People go on forest tours to see lions and tigers and rhinoceros and deadly animals in the wild but take no cognizance of cows and sheep and hens and cats and dogs etc which are part of  our daily lives. We enjoy flower shows of rare flowers much more than the dozens of beautiful flowers we use and see all around us daily. In an era of plentiful cheap but still excellent music, vast numbers of us would rather pay a huge amount to see a concert in person. Same with sports. The primary reason is excellence and rarity, obviously; but why do excellent things lose their specialty simply by being common?

I can understand rarity is why we appreciate beauty, why do we appreciate cruelty or ferocity or brutality - simply because it is rare?

This seems to pervade human experience across cultures and across time and across a wide variety of philosophical perception and influence. 

Economics have noted the phenomenon called "loss aversion." The vast majority of people are far more offended when they lose something of even small value than they are delighted when they gain something of much higher value. For example, people feel worse about losing ten rupees than they feel happy unexpectedly getting something worth hundred rupees, even unexpectedly.

What I have described before this seems to be a variation of this "loss aversion" concept, except in other fields. In almost every field of life.


Thursday, 10 August 2023

Watching trains

Most people like to watch the rain, watch a sunrise or sunset, watch wildlife, flowers etc. I like some of these activities watching nature or immersing myself in such, also, but I enjoy the ordinary pleasures of simple engineering and transportation also.

I enjoy riding in buses even when I own a car and can afford to take an auto or taxi. I enjoy traveling in trains. Especially in India. I dont mind that most of our trains are not as fast Japanese or Chinese bullet trains. Slowness is not that bad a feature in Indian trains, it helps us enjoy the countryside so much. Mile after mile of rice field and cotton field and lakes and rivers and canyons mountains, India is a pleasure to ride through, looking out the windows. Even when I travel in AC compartments, in trains, I sometimes stand in the corridor or near the door, the wind and dust whipping hair and skin - almost always there are open doors in most trains, except at night. We get dirty, but that happens anyway, wherever we travel.

Perhaps one of my stranger pleasures is simply watching trains sitting on a railway platform. Our family used to live in Mylapore and when we visited our chithi's family in KK Nagar, one of the delights was the ten seconds of the bus 12 E going over the Kodambakkam bridge and perhaps a fleeting glimpse at the trains running below. Sometimes we would take 12F (which later became 12G) which goes through Mambalam not Kodambakkam, and so we would sometimes watch a train cross the bridge on Brindavan street, and our bus would sometimes go under it. Loved the thunderous noise.

When we first moved to Kodambakkam, I was in class 12, and it was a thrill that I could cross the bridge every day on the way to my school in Royapettai. Either by bus or by bicycle.  The first weekend, I actually took my kid brother and we simply went to the Kodambakkam railway station and sat on a bench on the platform for an hour or so watching trains go by.

Train on Madras-Gummidipoondi line near Chennai Central


Triplicane cricket ground and Marina beach view from MRTS EMU

Between 2000 and 2005 or so, when I had ambitions of becoming a writer, but couldnt complete anything I often went to Mambalam or some other suburban railway station in the evenings and simply sat on the bench, sometimes thinking, sometimes writing. I never became a writer, but enjoyed the moments on the railway platforms, watching people walk around, finishing their days or starting them.

I enjoy railway platforms as much as the beach or some riverside or lakeside. Perhaps very odd in a city with such a magnificent beach. Sometimes when I woke up early I would go early and simply watch trains. (Being a jobless bachelor was a major factor enabling such activities). 

Since the advent of Youtube and the smartphone and extremely cheap and plentiful bandwidth, I now have the benefit of vast number of videos of similar minded people. In fact, out there in smaller towns across India, are hundreds perhaps thousands of train lovers with far more dedication and passion, who post videos. There are also aeroplane watchers who take videos of airplanes taking off and landing at various airports, but this is very difficult in India, as most airports are restricted and you can only watch such these while you are a passenger yourself. I enjoy watching planes land or take off and there are some fantastic videos of these also.

There are also train videos of travelers in different countries, and Youtube videos are a great way to discover how different each culture is. America and Europe have such thin populations, and Africa and South America have so few trains, they are not quite as fascinating.  

But Indian trains and the kind of videos vloggers make are astounding. There are videos of trains merely arriving or leaving, of trains crossing platforms, people crossing railway tracks just ahead of trains, passenger trains racing, overtaking, zooming past, scenic routes, and so many other fascinating aspects of life and technology, There are viewers who study all the train locomotives and the sheds they are attached to (Erode, Royapuram, Itarsi, Vijayawada etc), their categories of WAP7, WAG5, WAM4 (where P,G,M stand for Passenger Goods and Mixed respectively; WDG WDP etc (D in the middle is diesel engine, A is AC engine); the W stands for broad guage, Meter guage trains had the letter Y. The Beach-Tambaram EMU line was converted from meter guage to broad guage about ten years back, almost the last of the meter guage trains in Tamilnadu. I rode those for nostalgia. The numbers at the end 4,5,7 etc stand for horsepower of the engines. 4 is 4000 HP, 7 is 7000 HP. Excitement prevails over the new 12000 HP engines of Indian Railways

All railway lines south of Madras - from Madras to Madurai and Kanyakumari or Tenkasi or Rameshvaram were meter guage in my college days. Only the railways to the west - Bangalore and Coimbatore - or to the north - Bombay and Delhi and such were broad guage before that. Some trains like those at Ooty and Darjeeling still run on narrow guage rails.

Trains crossing on parallel tracks



Engine coupling to train


The level of their videography, the editing, labeling, fan following (even worldwide) is amazing. This is a world that most people dont know exists. One can see similar videos from other countries also, but like I said there are so few people in those stations or trains, except in very large central stations of cities like London or Paris, they are not as interesting. But one gets very amazing views. 

There are some very popular but bizzare trains, from Thailand, Vietnam, and such countries, going through very narrow markets, between rows of housing, etc. There are weird morning commute trains in China and Japan where there are train packers who push people into trains. I think we may see such phenomena soon in India. I once showed such videos to some school kids in Konerirajapuram and they howled with delight. Perhaps you might like them too.








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Sunday, 12 February 2023

A Madras evening - LMS

Incredibly beautiful blue sky day... Parrots gliding over the roof... Spring flowers of mango and konrai in bloom... promising a glorious summer...


Streaking through buildings and cellphone towers, the evening sun showcases the thousand shades of green on the leaves of the trees it highlights

Quietly, a million cups of tea and coffee are brewed and sipped, in appreciative meditation, for now ignoring the cacophony of calumny and acrimony that will soon rise in a thousand TV channels

A distant two wheeler engine roars gently through the mostly silent streets, punctuated by the cawing of crows, chirping of other birds, and the chatter of untiring boys playing street cricket

Other LMS

Nagasvaram

Wednesday, 13 May 2020

Labour Statues of Mamallapuram

மாமல்லபுரத்து உழைப்பாளர் சிலை (Tamil version of this essay)


There is a statue called Triumph of Labour, opposite to the Senate Building of the Madras university and adjacent to the MGR and Jayalalitha graves at the Marina beach in Madras. This was designed by Roy Chowdhry, a former Principal of the Government College of Fine Arts, Egmore. The college is only  a couple of miles away from the statue.

It depicts four people straining their sinews in hard physical labour, trying to move a large boulder with a long rod. It was not only art, but a political statement, a celebration of Marxism and democracy. a tribute to the Labour movement of the early twentieth century.

Labour Statue, Marina beach, Madras

There are several other statues in the Marina beach, mostly commissioned and installed to mark the World Tamil Conference held in 1968. The previous year 1967, the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam won elections and formed the government. These statues are celebration of Tamil literature, culture and the Dravidian movement, an alternate to the Congress and the Communist parties that were popular until then in Tamilnadu. Hence there are statues to ancient poets Tiruvalluvar, Ilango  and Avvaiyar, modern poets Subramania Bharati and Bhaaratidaasan, and Kannagi, the heroine of the Ilango’s great epic Silappadikaaram. A statue for the medieval Tamil poet Kamban was added in 1971. 

Three foreigners who enriched Tamil literature were also  honored with statues. They are : Italian priest Constantine Beschi (who called himself Veeramaamunivar in Tamil and wrote the story of Jesus Christ as the Tamil epic Tembaavani,), English Bishop Robert Caldwell, then considered the discoverer of the Dravidian language family, and GU Pope, who translated Tirukkural and Tiruvaasagam into English.

Before the era of British rule in India, statues in public were rare. There are no mentions of such statues in literature and no archaeological evidence. After India became independent, Indians adopted the British custom and festooned the country with statues of politicians in practically every street. In Madras, there are also statues to poets, authors and cinema actors.

While most of these other statues in Chennai may not excite connoisseurs or critics of art, the Labour statue is quite noteworthy. But rarely do visitors come to see this statue for its artistic merit. It is simply something else to on their way to the beach. People who visit Madras to see sculptures visit either the Egmore museum or Mamallapuram.

Art Galleries


Temples are the galleries of art of India, for painting sculpture or architecture. They are the monuments which are renovated least and hence offer the best snapshots of the past. Parthasarathy temple in Tiruvallikkeni is perhaps the temple in Chennai with oldest sculptures, of the Vijayanagar period.

Art historians consider Mamallapuram the cradle of Dravidian architecture and sculpture. (Here Dravidian refers to a style of sculpture as per the Hindu shilpa shaastras, not the language family or the political movement). Some of Mahendra Pallava’s caves precede Mamallapuram, but have few sculptures, all of Gods or dvarapalakas. Few people visit them. From the Pallava era, and even earlier, till now, temples are the primary art galleries of not just Tamil country, but also India. Several historians and scholars, primarily Marxists but also quite a few others, inject political and social perspectives to temples and sculptures, but the fundamental intention of temples continues to be religion. The art serves the religion. 

In the centuries that followed Mamallapuram, when temples in granite proliferated the Tamil country, the sculptures of the Pallavas, Pandyas, Cholas or their feudatories, all depicted episodes from the itihaasas Ramayana and Mahabharata, the Puranas or the episodes from the lives of the Alwaars or Naayanmaars. Only from the Vijayanagar era, ordinary people, kuravan kuratti, scenes of daily life etc started to proliferate.

But Mamallapuram is an exception.


The Worker Sculptures of Mamallapuram


The Great Penance panel in Mamallapuram or Mallai, depicts either Arjuna or Bhagiratha in penance, as Siva appears to grant his book. Devas, Gandharvas, Rishis, Vidyadharas, Kinnaras, Kimpurushas, flock to see this marvelous sight. A number of birds and animals are also featured in the magnificent spectacle. Among these are four hunters, or kiraatas. Kiraataarjuniyam was a great Sanskrit epic, composed by Bharavi around this time. Siva disguised as a kiraata arrives to test Arjuna : the test turns into a war first of words, then arrows, then hand to hand combat. The Penance panel doesn’t feature Siva as a kiraata, but the four kiraatas in the sculpture may indicate this episode. They all carry tall bows, but none bears the carcass of a hunted animal. One carries a jackfruit.

Great Penance panel - Mamallapuram

They are not gods, or royalty or landed gentry, but daily toilers. They are not shown lifting or moving something heavy, straining their muscles, suffering from the heat of the midday sun, or sweating profusely. They are working for themselves, not being exploited by a moneyed class. Nothing for a Marxist to criticize, an union leader to organize, a writer or artist to lament, or a social justice warrior to exploit. There maybe some scope for an anthropologist or an art critic, but they generally seem to have ignored such sculptures.

Kiratas in the Great Penance

A curious aspect is their neutral expression – there is none of the vismaya of the celestials, the languidness of the animals at rest, or the delight of the elephants charging towards the water.

A stone’s throw from the Penance panel is the Govardhana Panel. Krishna lifts the mountain with his hand, with Balarama Subhadra and a host of the Yadavas and their cattle all taking refuge under it. The most remarkable aspect here is the utter normality of village life while a storm rages all around. Here a cowherd milks a cow, a lady vends her buttermilk, another carries a pile of straw on her head, a man plays the flute, his wife warns him that it is disturbing the sleeping baby, and so on. All people at work; but the primary intent of the sculptor is show the Grand Deed of Krishna, not the toil of the workers.

center: Krishna lifting Govardha
right : Lady carrying pots with buttermilk

right: Yaadava milking cow
left: Lady carrying straw

The Dharamaraja ratha, tallest of the Five Rathas, features several marvelous sculptures in the second and third floor, mostly of Siva and some of Vishnu, and their devotees. Among these are five temple workers – a priest (archaka), an attendant with a bell in his hand (parichaaraka), a cook (svayampaka), a water bearer (a lady with a pot) and a musician (oduvaar). Four of these are on the eastern wall, the lady with the pot is in the western wall. 



As temples became bigger, they acquired a larger band of workers, but none of the later Pallava or Chola temples ever depicts a single such worker.

In some temples of the Nayak era, sculptures of kings, queens, ministers, generals and donors are etched on some pillars. But in the ancient and medieval era, not a single poet, administrator, artist, architect, businessman, scientist, scholar, were apparently considered fit to commemorate with statues in temples. We have no idea what Kamaban Tiruvalluvar Ilango Avvaiyaar and others looked like. We don’t even know the names of the sthapathis and silpis of most of the temples, leave alone portrait sculptures. Perhaps some were featured in paintings in palaces or palm leaf manuscripts or other forms of painting, now lost.

In this respect, the statues of the workers, commoners as depicted in Mamallapuram remain unique.

If you liked this essay, check out other such essays by me 


Wednesday, 6 May 2020

Moral Numbers


Once upon a time, the world only had numbers, but creative and brilliant mathematicians then discovered several types of numbers, each with its own distinct and remarkable name. So we have irrational numbers, negative numbers, and imaginary numbers, and their counterparts. At some point mathematicians realized that fractions are also numbers, so non fractions were named whole numbers. While all these numbers exist in nature, animals and plants and fungi ignore them, and mathematicians have to make special efforts to persuade people to take notice of them. And share their joy with those swimming in apathy about theoretical classes of numbers. So they named the numbers people use as Natural Numbers, and flooded textbooks in schools and colleges with the delights and joys of unnatural numbers, all in the name of education.

In Europe several of these people who taught mathematics early were Christian priests or their trainees. In India, higher mathematics were the field of jyotishas or ganakas, technically astronomers but usually astrologers, substantially a large number of whom were brahmins. Indian jyotishas either cruelly and haughtily withheld the mathematics of unnatural numbers from the teeming masses or were so kind that they spared them horrors of sums and homeworks and entrance exams, until the benevolent British decided that all children should suffer equally, a principle they borrowed either from the Prussian inventors of elementary schools or the American inventors of equality.

To  add to the merry confusion, around the seventeenth century, non religious Europeans, still often funded by various churches, started learning mathematics with a vengeance, and formed societies where they shared their discoveries. They invented new categories of numbers like transcendental numbers (without the advantage of Vedanta! Before Osho! Horrors!), sets, fields, quarternions, boolean numbers, and so on. They also discovered friendly numbers and perfect numbers. Shockingly they never bothered to invent moral numbers. Whether this is a failure of Christianity, of atheism or sadists, it is not clear. What is astounding is that Indian mathematicians or philosophers didn’t 
discover moral numbers either.

A Mystery

How could Punyabhumi, Jambudvipa, the mother of history and the grandmother of religion, as Mark Twain described her, with such a long history of mathematics (and morality), not have discovered, or at least invented, Moral Numbers? We put morality in everything. Our panchatantras effused the animal kingdom with morality. Our philosophers moralized the living daylights out of everything from death to drinking, to brushing teeth and revering palm leaves. Today Indian intellectuals are compensating for some of these absurd traditions, by disrespecting almost everything that our ancestors venerated. Never mind.  Varahamihira wrote half a book simply on the morals to be observed about combs and couches, while the planets and stars oversaw their fortunes. And thanks to the printing press, high taxes, a socialist constitution, a massive population, and a desperate desire to get certificates that we are at least as educated as the next person, everyone is taught all kinds of mathematics! So many types of numbers – except Moral numbers.

An objection may be raised. Why do we need morality in numbers? We have them in our laws, judgments, customs, in habits, food, drink, dress, entertainment, sports, cinema, music, literature, application forms, other forms, tax policies, goods and services, loans, write offs, grants, donations, fees, fines, in construction, inauguration, economics, economic opinions, in newspaper editorials, social media essays and tweets, public speeches, private speeches, outrage, occasionally even in religion. The sciences we learn or teach are free of morals, at least they are amoral, rather than immoral, but we compensate by loading our scientific institutions with morals. So much so, that we value their moral standing and probity more than any scientific output. Only our mathematics, sadly lacks morals, and that I think because we havent invented moral numbers. We can forgive Aryabhata and Bhaskara for this lapse, but our future generations will not forgive us if we don’t create a new system of morality among numbers, and propagate them for the benefit of Mankind.

After all if some numbers can be perfect, some irrational, and some even imaginary, surely some numbers can be moral?

But how do can we separate numbers into moral and immoral (and perhaps some amoral or doubtfully moral). What if some numbers prefer to be moral in public and immoral in private? We will then have a whole class of hypocritical numbers. A property so far confined to people and words. But since we have had centuries of experience with these, we can perhaps deal with numbers which are hypocritical too. But we may be jumping the gun.

Beauty

Isnt morality subjective? Like truth, justice, fairness, even honesty etc which are all subjective. Unless of course you believe in particular set of truths and consider everyone who doesn’t accept these as immoral by choice? Eureka! Why would this principle not apply to numbers also? And consider the possibilities of academic research in mathematics, which so far has been unfairly confined to people who are excellent in mathematics! How exclusionary – to leave our journalists, politicians, preachers, philosophers, writers, artists, who all usually avoid any mathematics that isnt financial?

That is the beauty of it, a beauty GH Hardy and Paul Dirac and S Chandrasekhar would have appreciated. The case for moral numbers is that they will not only help us understand morality, they will help humanity achieve equality. We live in a terribly unequal world, where rewards frequently go to competent or hard working people. This must be rectified as soon as  possible. Why confine equality to equations?

But how would a mathematician discover which numbers are moral? Is there something inherently moral about some numbers, but not others (a dangerous possibility of inequality, which is immoral, but we must theoretically consider this)? We must also consider that the morality of numbers may be independent of the mathematicians who investigate them or even the areas of mathematics where they could prove to be useful (or useless). We may discover that morality is not binary – or discrete as mathematicians like to call them – but has many shades of grey. There may a Fuzzy Arithmetic, a counterpart of Fuzzy Logic, just waiting to be discovered. Fuzzy Logic was first propounded by an Aryan called Lofti Zadeh, and it would be fitting if Fuzzy Arithmetic came from our beloved Dravidian land. It would be so poetic, if our beloved Madras aka Chennai which gave the world three language families, could also give the world several new number families. And even our omnipresent Malthusians and Ehrlichians wouldn’t object on the grounds that this doesn’t come under family planning.

I have drowned you, dear reader, in words, in an essay purporting to be about numbers. Wrong, I know. But I am merely trying to drench my ankles as I wade into a sea that may not even exist, and I will only know if the sea is watery when my ankles become wet. Sadly, until now, my ankles like this essay, are dry. Now, Tamilnadu is hardly a dry state – but so many of our fellow citizens have parched throats in this never ending Corona Virus Lockdown.

Possibilities

The Lockdown, similar to what Isaac Newton suffered in his early twenties, has inspired this flow of thought. Unlike I Newton, owing perhaps to a lack of apple trees in Madras, I have not discovered a single law of physics in these forty days. I thought I must at least explore the possibilities of mathematics. A notable Indian author wrote a famous book called the Algebra of Infinite Justice, which was sadly lacking in algebra, but compensated by being finite. Is it not our duty then to explore such other topics as the Calculus of Limited Economics, the Geometry of Tangential Discussions, the Statistics of Sesquipedalian Solipsistic Sophomoric Soliloquies, the Probability of Profoundly Perfidious Perspicacity, the Differential Equations of Indifferent Inequalities, and so on? Some mute inglorious Milton in Meenambakkam, some Cromwell in Coimbatore, surely is working on these. Will moral numbers help them or the current mathematics suffice?

So moral numbers may not be merely theoretical mathematics, but applied to. This would have disappointed Hardy and Dirac. But the word application is music to the ears of lawyers, bureaucrats, and software developers, so let us not worry too much. In fact there may be some basic Pythagorean theorem of morality, whereby the happiness of some people may be equal to the sum of the discontent of the neighbors on two sides of their houses. It may be quantifiable as a number. Happiness and discontent are currently not measured with numbers but only by vague notions, but once we assign numbers to them, we can compute them, develop a quantitative economics about them, securitize and monetize them, tax them, collect distribute them based on other principles, and so on. Surely this will lead to greater happiness and contentment. What a marvelous similarity this would be to the world’s central banks, which simply print more currency notes whenever economies start floundering, and thus increase the world’s overall wealth. One of these days we will all be billionaires. Perhaps, Happionaires too.

I will wait for reader’s suggestions before revealing some of my other ideas on moral numbers. I have visualized a small set of operations, equivalent to arithmetic operations, but I still haven't figured out how to determine which numbers are moral and which aren't.


If you liked this essay, check out other such essays by me -


Wednesday, 27 February 2019

Index of Commonplace connoisseur essays சாதா விந்தை கட்டுரைகள்

Index of Commonplace Connoisseur essays
சாதா விந்தை கட்டுரைகள்







Friday, 20 July 2018

Not Kumanan


Sunday dusk, at the Marina beach. Near the police booth next to the Gandhi statue. A lady was dissolving into hysterics. An occasional gasping howl.
Most of us didn't know what was going on. Maybe somebody had stolen her purse. Or worse, molested her.
The young policemen next to her looked about helplessly. Someone gave her a bottle of water, which she gulped; but spilt most of it on the grass.
There was a man holding a child next to her. He was quietly talking to another policeman. The lady started howling and ran here and there among the grass, screaming at the sky and the sea.
I looked at her in confusion, as did some of the public. My cousin's wife, standing next to me, muttered, "I think she lost a kid".
Oh God. The man with the small child must be the father. He has to look for his other child, without losing his grip on this one. Or his grip on sanity, as his wife was slowly going to pieces.
A sea of humanity, full of life, our beloved Marina, suddenly seemed a terrifying dark abyss. What do you do in this scenario? Could the police lock down the beach? Not a chance. Could they search for and find the child? What are the odds? Could we help? Or would we make it worse, if we tried?
The policemen must see something like this every time there is a large public gathering. What would be the psychological effect on them, if they had to see or experience something like this once or twice a month?
Our media, social consciousness, society often portray the police as heartless or brutal. Or incompetent. Or corrupt.
The woman at the beach had come a complete circle, still shaking and in tears. The man with the child was just standing there and slowly looking about. There were two policemen, one inside, one outside the booth doing nothing. Is our media and film industry correct? Are these guys in khaki uniforms just thugs working for white veshti crooks?
I remembered a school day incident when I came home at 8pm instead of 4.30 because I was angry with my father for scolding me severely that morning. I only returned home because I didn't know where else to go. My anger hadn't cooled, I wasn't hungry, I wasn't tired. I came back home because I didn't know what else to do. I spent the time between 4 and 8 in Nageshvara Rao Park. I rarely ever went inside the park, even though I walked past it back from school every evening. My favorite place was the playground across my house. If my parents had to search for me, where would they look?
Anyway, when I returned home, my father said nothing. I don't remember his expression. My mother wondered why I was so late but immediately laid out a plate and served dinner. I don't remember either parents' expression. I was too self absorbed in my own righteousness and justified anger. Only my grandmother was expressive, but I only vaguely remember her happiness. It is one of the great fortunes of my life that I don't remember much about the incident.
All this flashed through my mind as the drama played out on the beach. I wanted to leave, I didn't want to know how this tragedy would unfold. That kid would never be found... He would be exploited by a beggar gang or worse a criminal gang. Or worse.....Irresponsible parents, useless police, I thought. Even if they wanted to help what the hell could they do?
A policeman in a khaki uniform came running up the grass with a child in his arm. The woman screamed at the child in Telugu. I don't know the words, but we all understood......Where did your run away...after all, its the child's fault, he was irresponsible.
Apparently some of our police can do the impossible. They can find a needle in a haystack, a lost child in a sea of humanity, in the dusk, in fading light, when we can barely see each other.
There was no applause. Nobody yelled at the woman. The father didn't collapse in emotion. The rescued child didn't cry. The policemen did not get any public appreciation. No cameras flashed though everyone had a mobile phone. No journalist showed up. The policemen didn't break out into smiles of relief and pat each other on the back. The watching people went back to their previous activities.
And we left.
We simply left.

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Saturday, 30 September 2017

Eighteen wheels and gears

This - Finn Murphy on Truck Driving - is an incredible essay, an excerpt from a book written by Finn Murphy, a high-end truck driver in the USA. The general public is interested in autobiographies or stories of kings,presidents, movie stars, crooks, psychopath, artists, athletes, business magnates, monks, philanthropists and sometimes even scientists; but rarely in the stories or expertise or knowledge of ordinary people who are not famous. We are even less interested in people in the working classes, where a lot of physical labour is involved. Their stories are only told by other professional writers or journalists, and sometimes by their children, if they become famous.

I found this narrative riveting, for several reasons. First, someday I hope to write a book on driving, and since I have only driven cars and bicycles, accounts of driving special vehicles interests me. Alistair Maclean's Way to Dusty Death was the first story I read about driving, when I was sixteen, and it was far better when I read it again in my thirties, after having watched a lot of Formula-1 races. I found the movie Rush, about Niki Lauda, quite gripping, especially his philosophy of driving.

The United States is a land of large vehicles, by global standards. I have once driven a U-Haul truck to move my belongings from Seattle to Cupertino. But it’s just a larger version of a car. When Murphy talks about an eighteen gear system, keeping an eye on the tachometer, wariness about jack-knifing, a great awareness of dangers of mountain driving, and specialised instruments like the Jacob brake,  he is talking as a driver whose full concentration is on his vehicle, the road and others. The US has highly structured traffic, drivers have rigorous licensing requirements, as do vehicles, and so on. Most highway driving is quite safe, unlike India, where a moment’s lapse can end in terrible disaster.

Second, Murphy is also an excellent narrator. His passage describing the truck going downhill are almost as dramatic as Alastair Maclean’s passages of an F-1 driver handling a truck on mountain roads. He quotes Moby Dick and Farenheit 451. I was reminded of this New York taxi driver's blog.

We will in the next few decades see similar essays, perhaps books in Indian languages, but currently the reading public is not interested in them (or most manual labour), barring a few rare stories and the odd question in Quora

Third, reading Marc Levinson’s The Box,  about containers and container shipping, helped me understand how profound and widespread an impact they have had, but how unaware we are of this impact. I once spent an hour after breakfast, watching a container ship slowly gliding out of Seattle harbour, from my apartment window, overlooking Puget Sound. It was sublime and meditative, in a way that can only be experienced, not explained. And perhaps one needs an appreciation for engineering to feel as I did. The TED video on Maersk  was also quite enlightening. But there are all kinds of other specialised vehicles on roads, and Murphy describes several of them. He also breaks a few stereotypes.
Ferry in Puget Sound, Seattle
Third, the caste system among truck drivers that he talks about. In his book on screenwriters in Hollywood, Adventures in the Screentrade, William Goldman discusses the several caste systems that exist in Hollywood; one among screenwriters, with variations by payscale; a second between professions, with star actors and directors on top, and a whole bunch of technical and artistic professions filling up the lower rungs. Murphy explains a similar system among American truckers, based on the kinds of trucks they drive. They have even developed a vocabulary of insults, and Murphy has often been at the receiving end. Oddly, while movers like Murphy are low on the caste system, they are quite well paid – an old phenomenon in India, where ostensibly high caste brahmins have usually been very poor through history; and hundreds of other former low castes have thrown up several millionaires and billionaires thanks to the Industrial Revolution; and in England where thousands of English “nabobs” who made money in the colonies moved up the ranks of the prevalent aristocracy.

As Murphy notes, “A specialist truck driver makes a quarter million dollars a year
I guess that’s worth being insulted in the mountains by my brethren.” One of the reasons for the high pay, is that his customers are very very rich people, moving all their belongings from one mansion to another. Antiques (granite Qing dynasty gravestones!), art treasures, luxury items etc are part of the set of goods moved. Damaging these can severely impact their moving fees. Movers like Murphy not only have to be expert truck drivers, but efficient packers. The pride with which he explains his packing techniques, can only come from a first hand account. The professionalism of American workers, whether in construction, transport, entertainment, finance, has to be seen and experienced to be believed. I don’t belittle Indian workers, several million of whom do phenomenal jobs with far less equipment at a fraction of the cost. But if they were more professional and efficient, and less superstitious or open to change, they would be far more productive and make far more money. Indians don’t use tarpaulins in construction and leave a thorough mess of paint, sawdust, cement dust and brickpowder behind, which then a lower paid set of workers clean up. There are severe health repercussions to both groups. Pits are left open, badly covered, with zero concern for the public. Electricians and plumbers leave exposed wires, pipes, rusting equipment, overheating junction boxes, bad manhole covers and a hundred other nuisances that make India that ugly sight it is (you will rarely see these in gated communities or corporate campuses, where the managements crack whips). Safety consciousness is non-existent in India and utterly unenforceable by law or social custom.The greatest fortune of Indian working class is that they always have family or caste to fall back on. And they can survive months or years unemployed.

“Books are disappearing,” notes Murphy; he has to pack fewer cartons, obviously.

To those of my more recent regular readers, who are wondering why I am writing about a truck driver, this essay may help.

Other essays on driving

Thursday, 10 November 2016

தடை கேளு தடை கேளு

நேற்று இரவு எட்டுமணி முதல் தமிழி மொழியில் இரண்டு சுழி ண மூன்று சுழி ன தடை செய்யப்பட்டுள்ளது என்று பிரதமர் மோடி அறிவித்துள்ளார்.

இவ்விறு எழுத்துக்களையும் ஆதார் அட்டையில்லாத எழுத்தாளர்கள் தவறாக பயன்படுத்துவதாகவும், தமிழ் இலக்கியத்தில் பிண்ணவீணத்துவம், மாயணிலைமெய்த்துவம், வநிகபேராசைத்துவம், மதச்சார்ப்பற்ற ஆண்மீகம், முற்போக்கு பெண்மீகம் போன்ற இலக்கிய சீரழிப்பு நடைகளை பாகிஸ்தான் ராணுவமும் ஏகாதிப்பத்திய அமெரிக்க கார்ப்பரேட் சக்திகளும், பாரதநாடு முழுக்க அவிழ்த்துவிடுவதாகவும், அந்த சதியை முறிக்கவே இத்திட்டம் என்றும் மத்திய அரசு விளக்கியுள்ளது. தற்காலிகமாக ணகரமும் னகரமும் நவீன தமிழிலன்றி, சுழியில்லாத தமிழ் பிராம்மி என்னும் சங்க கால தமிழ் லிபியில் எழுதவேண்டும் என்றும் மேலும் மோடி அறிவித்துள்ளார்.

இந்த அதிரடி அறிவிப்பிற்கு தமிழ் படிப்போர் சிலர் ஆதரித்தும் சிலர்  எதிர்த்தும் பேசியுள்ளனர். ஆனால் கொஞ்சம் கூட தமிழே படிக்காதவர்களிடம் இது பிரம்மாண்ட சச்சரவை கிளப்பியுள்ளது. ஹிந்திக்காரன் மோடிக்கு தமிழை திருத்த எந்த அதிகாரமும் கிடையாது என்று கொந்தளித்த சிலரை மறுத்து, காசியில் சாகித்ய அகாடமி விருதை வாபஸ் செய்யாத சில ஹிந்தி புலவர்கள் “மோடி பேசும் குஜராத்தியை ஹிந்தியென்று நினைப்பது மிகவும் தவறு. அவர் ஆங்கிலத்தில் ஈஜ் அப் டூயிங் பிஜினஜ் என்று சொல்வது கூட குஜராத்தி எழுத்தில் தான்,” என்று பதிவு செய்துள்ளனர்.  இந்திய பிரதமரை அவமதிப்பது போல் இந்த கருத்து உள்ளது என, மோடியின் ஆதரவாளர்கள் கொந்தளிக்க, ஒரு அமெரிக்க நிருபர், “ஜார்ஜ் புஷ் பேசும் ஆங்கிலமே பல நேரம் குஜராத்தி மாதிரி தான் இருக்கும், இதுவே அதிபர்களுக்கு அழகு,” என்று சொன்னதால், சச்சரவு அடங்கியது.

“மோடிக்கு என் அரசியல் ஆதரவு இல்லை எனினும், இதை நான் வரவேற்கிறேன்,” என்று எதிர்பாரமால் அப்போலோவுக்கு வந்த அன்னா ஹசாரே கருத்து கூறியுள்ளார். அங்கு வந்திருந்த புலவர் கீழ்பாக்கம் கிளவிவளவன், ஹசாரேவை சும்மா விடவில்லை. “அண்ணா என்ற மராட்டியிலும் தமிழிலும் உள்ள சொல்லை விட்டுவிட்டு அன்னா என்று இரண்டு சுழியில் எழுதுவது தானே காரணம்? அதற்கு பழிவாங்கத்தானே இந்த னண ஒழிப்பை ஆதரிக்கிறீர்கள்?” என்று கேள்விக்கணைக்களை போன வருடத்து மழைப்போல் மாரியாய் பொழிந்தார். அண்ணா ஹசாரேவுக்கு மூன்று சுழியா என்று சில் பத்திரிகை நிருபர்களும், தமிழகத்தில் ஒரு மூன்று சுழி அண்ணாவுக்கு தான் இடமுண்டு என்று, வேறு சிலரும், பத்திரிகையை படிக்கிறதே ஜாஸ்தி இதுல சுழியெல்லாம் எவன்டா எண்ணுவான் என்று வாசகர்களும் வெவ்வேறு விதம் பேசிக்கொல்கிறார்கள். ஆனால் இது மேட்டுக்குடி மனப்பான்மை என்று கண்டித்து இனிமேல் கச்சேரிகளிலும் எச்சேரிகளிலும் சரிகமபதநி என்பதற்கு பதில் சரிகமபதனி என்றே பாடப்போவதாக பிரபல பாடகர் கிருட்டிநந் செந்நையில் அறிவுத்துள்ளார்.

இரண்டு என்ற சொல்லில் மூன்று சுழி ணவும் மூன்று என்ற சொல்லில் இரண்டு சுழி னவும் இருப்பதே தமிழில் எண்ணும் எழுத்தும் ஒன்றோடொன்று பின்னிப்பிணைந்தவை என்று கணித நிபுணர் நகுபோலியன் முகநூலில் சொல்ல, நகுபோலியன் யார் என்று சிலர் கூகிளில் தேட, கங்கைக்கொண்டசோழபுரத்து கலங்கரை விளக்கை நோக்கி ஒரு வரலாற்று ஆர்வல படை புறப்பட்டுள்ளது.

இந்த தடைக்கு பொருளாதார காரணங்களும் உண்டா என்ற கேள்விக்கு நிதி அமைச்சர் அருந் ஜெட்லீ ஆமோதித்து பதிலளித்துள்ளார். தமிழக அச்சுகளின் மை சீனதேசத்தில் தயாரிப்பதாகவும், சுழிகளால் மை மிகவும் அதிகமாக செலவாகிறதென்றும், வெளிநாட்டில் இருந்து கருப்பு பணம் மட்டுமே பாரதம் வரவேண்டுமே தவிற கருப்பு மை வரக்கூடாது என்ற தேசபக்தி உள்ளோர் சுழியில்லாத எழுத்துக்களை பயன்படுத்த வேண்டும் என்றும் கேட்டுக்கொண்டார்.

மேக் இன் இண்டியா, மந்நிக்கவும், மேக் இந் இந்திய திட்டத்தில் இந்தியாவிலேயே மார்ச் 2017 முதல் தயார் செய்யப்படும் என்றும், அதன்பின் மீண்டும் சுழித்த ணன அறிமுகமாகும் என்று ஜெட்லீ கூறினார். இதை கேட்டு கோடம்பாக்கம் புருடாபாடியபெருங்கடுங்கோ ஒரு நியாயமான கேள்வியை எழுப்பின்னார். நான்கு சுழி ஐந்து சுழியுள்ள கன்னட தெலுங்கு மொழிகளுக்கும் இந்த தடைவிதிக்கப்படுமா என்பதே அக்கேள்வி. வெறும் கேள்வியாக கேட்காமல் ஒரு கட்டுரையாக எழுதி பத்தாயிரம் பிரதி எடுத்து தமிழகமெங்கும் பலச்சுவர்களில் மார்ட்டின் லூத்துர் போல் அறிவிப்பாகவே ஒட்டிவிட்டார். கேள்வி நியாயமாக இருந்தாலும், அதற்கு ஏன் “மூலம் விரைவீக்கம்” என்று தலைப்பிடபட்டுள்ளது என்று சிலர் ஐயம் எழுப்ப, அது ஒரு பசைசெய்தபிசை (paste-orical blunder) என்று பெருங்கடுங்கோ பெருங்கடுங்கோபத்தில் கர்ஜித்தார். தமிழக மீநவர்களையும் அந்றாடண்காச்சிகளையும் இது எப்படி பாதிக்கும் என்பதே முக்கியமென்றும் அசம்பாவிதமான தலைப்பு முக்கியமில்லை என்றும் அவர் கடிந்துள்ளார். அவர் எழுப்பிய கேள்விகளுக்கு சூடான பதிலை கிரிஷ் கர்நாடு கூறியுள்ளார். தான் கன்னடத்தில் நேராக எழுதினால் அதுக்கு யாருக்கும் புரியாதென்றும் சுழித்து சுழித்து எழுதுவதே இலக்கியம் என்றும் கூறியுள்ளார். கேள்வியையும் பதிலையும் தமிழகத்திலும் கர்நாடகத்திலும் யாரும் கண்டுகொள்ளாவிடினும், மலையாளத்தில் இந்த உரையாடல் எட்டாயிரம் பிரதிகள் விற்றுள்ளது குறிப்பிடத்தக்கது.

தமிழ் இலக்கிய மன்றங்களிலும் பத்திரிகைகளிலும் தர்க்கவாதம் செய்ய வேண்டிய கருத்தை போஸ்டர்வாதம் செய்யலாமா என்று வாசகர் ஒருவர் தமிழ் இலக்கிய இதழ்களுக்கு கடிதம் அனுப்ப, இரண்டு தமிழ் எழுத்தார்களையாவது தமிழ் துரோகி என்று திட்டினால்தான் அந்த விவாதத்தையே எங்கள் இதழ்களில் அனுமதிப்போம் என்று பதிப்பாளர்கள் கண்டிப்பாக பதிலளித்துள்ளனர்.

சர்வதேச அளவுக்கு சர்ச்சை நீடித்துள்ளது. இரண்டு சுழி மட்டுமே தன் பெயரிலிருந்தாலும், கார்ப்பரேட் பெருமுதலாளிகளின் ஆதரவினால் மூன்று சுழியை தன் பெயரில் வைத்துக்கொண்ட ஹிலரி கிள்ண்டனை வீழ்த்தியது தன்னுடைய பேச்சுத்திறமைக்கும் நிர்வாக ஆற்றலுக்கும் சான்று என்று அமெரிக்க தேர்தலில் வென்ற டொனால்டு டிரம்ப் கூறியுள்ளார்.

(தொடரும்)

மற்ற முயல் கர்ஜனைகள்
1. எழுத்தாளர்களின் குத்துச்சண்டை
2. பண்டைக்கால பாண்டுரங்கன் கல்வெட்டு
3. லகள ரகளை
4. முயல்கர்ஜனை
5. ஹிட்லர் மகன்

Monday, 7 November 2016

நல்வினை பெயல்நீர்

The English version of this essay, On Human Kindness, is here
2014இல் ஆங்கிலத்தில் நான் எழுதிய பதிவின் தமிழாக்கம்.

சமீபத்தில் (ஜனவரி 2014இல்) குஜராத் சென்றேன். அங்குள்ள மக்களின் அன்பும் உதவியும் விருந்தோம்பலும் பெருந்தன்மையும் நெகிழ வைத்தது. குஜராத்தில் மட்டுமல்ல, புனேவிலும், ஹைதராபதிலும், சென்னைக்கு திரும்பி வந்தபின், நம் ஊரிலும். சுகமான பயணத்தையோ பொழுதையோ கெடுக்க ஒரு அற்ப செயலோ, கடின சொல்லோ போதும். நாவினால் பட்ட வடு நல்ல அனுபவத்தில் நஞ்சை கலக்கும். யானோ உத்தமன்? பல முறை யானே கள்வன். பலமுறை பட்ட வலியுமுண்டு. ஆனால் அறிமுகமற்ற நல்லோரும் வல்லோரும் புது நண்பர்களும் தன்னலமற்ற உதவி செய்து உபசரித்து அன்பாக பேசி எண்ணற்ற முறை மலைக்கவைத்துள்ளனர். இயற்கை காட்சிகளின் எழிலை ரசிப்பதும் இன்சுவை விருந்தை ருசிப்பதும் கண்கவர்ந்த கலையில் திளைப்பதும் நன்றே. அதனினும் நன்றே, நன்றி அறிந்து, நயம்பட நவில்தல்.

பெறுக பெறுபவை பிசகற பெற்றபின்
நவில்க நன்றியை நன்று

என்ற எழுதாகிளவியை என்னுள் ஆய்ந்து, நொந்து நூடுல்ஸாய் போன உள்ளங்களுக்கு கொஞ்சம் நீவி நீவி நெகிழ்ந்து நவில்கிறேன்.

முகம் சுளித்துக்கொண்டே நல்லுதவி பெற்றேன் பூஜ் நகரில். ரயில் பயணச்சீட்டை அச்செடுக்க தேடிச்சென்றால் ஒரு கணினி/அச்சு/இணையம் கடை தேட மேலும்கீழும் அலைந்து, ஒரு பயண ஏற்பாட்டாளர் கடையில் வழிகேட்க நுழைந்தேன். அவரே இணையத்தில் பார்த்து சீட்டை அச்செடுத்து கொடுத்து நான் காசு நீட்ட, பாரதியாரை சுண்டுவிரலால் வினவின நம்பூதிரி போல் என்னை ஒரு விரல் காட்டி துரத்திவிட்டார். முருகனை நாவல் பழம் கேட்க, யாளி மாம்பழம் கொடுத்த கதை.

ஏனோ நல்வினைகளை விட அநீதிகளே நம் மனதில் நீண்ட காலம் நிற்கிறது. இனிய உளவாத இன்னாத கூறுதலே எளிமையாய் உள்ளதே, ஏன்? பொறுத்து பூமி ஏதும் ஆளவேண்டாம், சிறுதுன்பத்தை தாங்கி ஒரு நிமிடம் நாவினை அடக்கி, உறுமாமல் இருத்தலே போதும்.

நண்பர்களின் நல்லுள்ளமும் நற்சொல்லும், எம்முறை கேளிர் எவ்வழி அறிதும் என்று கேட்க முடியாத மாற்றாரும், நம் உள்ளத்து செம்புலத்தில் பெயல்நீராய் நல்வினை பொழிய, நம் ஊடகங்களிலும் மன்றங்களிலும் சினமும் வெறுப்பும் அசூயையும் தலைவிரித்து ஆடுகின்றன. அதைவிட கொடுமை சுற்றாரையும் சூழ்ந்தோரையும் வசைபாடுதல்; அவரிடம் வசை படுதல்.

சமீபமாக ஒன்றும் வசை படவில்லை, திட்டவில்லை, சபிக்கவில்லை. இரண்டு மாதங்களாக அன்பு மழையிலும்,  பாராட்டு தென்றலிலும், புகழார பூமாரியிலும் திளைத்து  திணறி மலைத்துக்கொண்டிருக்கிறேன். ஆயினும் அவ்வப்பொழுது சம்பந்தமில்லாமல் கோவமும் குரோதமும் பொங்கி வருகிறது. நல்லவேளை, சீக்கிரமே சித்தம் தெளிந்து சிரித்து விடுகிறேன். “When it is a deep, dark November in your soul”,  (“கார்த்திகை மாத கார்மேகம் ஆன்மாவை கறுக்கும்போது”) என்று மோபி டிக் நாவலில் ஹெர்மன் மெல்வில் எழுதினார். செம்பரிதி சுடர்வீசும் அன்புசூழ் உலகில் ஆன்மா ஏன் கறுக்கவேண்டுமோ?


நீங்கள் இந்த கட்டுரையை ரசித்தால், இவற்றையும் ரசிக்கக்கூடும்

Friday, 24 April 2015

In a Library - LMS

Watching slow sparse traffic. The sea in the distance, the Adyar winding slowly towards it. A train snaking into a station. Blue sky. Concrete jungle interspersed with patches of Guindy forest. A vast cloud throws the whole landscape into shadow, like a celestial photoshop took. Books in an ac room. A studied studious silence of. . . . studying. And some reading too. A streaking pigeon, a chirping thrush. Where thoughts may gently wander, a battered soul may heal, breathing slow to whispered rhythm, ideas may spring, an aesthete may admire, and a thumb may compose an essay....

Note
An LMS is a long SMS. I used to send these to select friends on my Nokia cellphone, before smart phones became common and you could do this on Facebook. Capturing an experience, with some literary flavour. I dont think SMS has to be just cryptic TLAs and emoticons.

The above LMS was composed a couple of years back.

Other LMS

1. Kerala
2. Kumbakonam
3. Traffic