I’m addicted to social networks very badly. Especially in Orkut, I love searching friends and joining communities. During one of my search, I found Dr. Heera Namboothiri’s profile. She is the winner of first Vanitaratnam, a reality show in Amrita TV for mothers.
For me, she is the first celebrity whom I interviewed. I went to meet her three years back as a part of my class project. I was little tensed as it was my first interview and that too with a celebrity who had just won a reality show that created revolution in the field of Malayalam television. But, she is a very reasonable lady, so humble and simple. Without any cosmetics, wearing a Kerala sari, she talked to me as a very common Malayali housewife. She said everything is God’s grace while showing me the diamond crown she was awarded.
She belongs to a Brahmin family in which ladies do not come in forefront even now. When I asked about that, she said she had inspired many females from her community who were only confined in concerts to come up and present themselves in open stages.
All those memories flashed in my mind for a second. I decided to send a friendship request to Dr. Heera. To my surprise, she remembers me and accepted my request. Though she is busy now doing her Masters in Medicine, I’m sure my ‘friend’ can climb more high as she has a very good caliber and potential.
I and my friends had almost finished packing for going home for Pooja holidays. It was then we were asked to go to Amritapuri the same day to cover Mata Amritanandamayi’s birthday. All we six were almost shattered with that news. We tried all possible way to get out of it, nothing worked out.
With all our frustrations, we started our journey along with other volunteers. There were around 500 students from Ettimadai campus and a large number of faculties and other staff. Twenty buses with all these volunteers, utensils and furniture moved from Coimbatore to Kollam at 9pm.
We reached Amritapuri early morning. It was just another world I could see there. I still admire the dedication and sincerity of volunteers (which was our news story). Wearing different uniforms and bearing same identity, all were so enthusiastic and energetic.
It was an energy booster for us also. We ran with the camera all around and covered every programs going on. The program at night was a grand one where around 5 lakh people attended. In that function, ‘Vidyamritam’ scholarships for poor school children were given away. Governor RS Gavai and actor Mohanlal were the chief guests. Soon after the function, we left Amritapuri. On my way home, my mobile started vibrating. It was a call from my friend asking how the function was! I replied, “I just loved it. Now I don’t regret for ‘spoiling’ my Pooja holidays. The place is superb and everything is just amazing. Even the chocolate shake we had from the nearby shop!!!”
Now days, the word ‘da’ has become an inevitable part in Malayali’s language dictionary. This word is actually used to address a male who is younger or of the same age. For the present generation, it can mean the same with only one difference; now it addresses both man and woman. If you don’t like it, you are a ‘country fellow’. Even when Malayalis speak English, they use ‘da’. Many may argue it as a sign of gender equality similar to the word ‘Ms’ which can mean Miss or Mrs. Still does it sound awkward many times? Imagine a 40 year old man addressing a teenage girl ‘da’!!! Like the many freak words in Malayalam, this too had become an ingredient in our common usage.
For others, life of mine is fantastic. Born in so called ‘upper caste’, people around me to do any help and a well furnished house, what else is there to make me unhappy? But cage is always a cage, whether it is made of gold or iron.
When you are born as a female in a Brahmin family, that name itself pulls you away from the world. Especially, when your family is very orthodox, you can’t expect to fly as a free bird. It may not be the same; but exceptions are only rare. You can’t even imagine how much girls will struggle in such families.
I belong to a family that is very conventional. I can go to Coimbatore or Calicut alone; still I’m not supposed to go to a shop nearby. I don’t have friends here as no one ‘dares’ to talk to a Brahmin girl. Why the hell people show all these attitudes in this 21st century! So in short I even don’t know who my neighbors are… The only people I know are my family, my uncles and their families who stay in the same compound.
There are some workers in our farms who smile at me. I can smile back, but I’m scared to talk to them because I’m not used to these kinds of talks from the day I was born. Even if I try, my relatives will scold me. My parents love a peaceful life which makes them not to go against my relatives. They requested me to go in the same manner. My parents had suffered a lot and so I thought to go according to their wish.
I love playing cricket. I’m an admirer of Shahid Afridi and Virender Sehwag, and like to smash sixes. I used to play with my brothers during my school vacation. As I grew up, I could here comments from all around asking me to stop playing with guys. Now I’m permitted to play only badminton, that too after 5pm. My dad had gone to attend a function. As a girl, I can’t go, until it is a marriage of my cousin or some close relatives. A lady can attend any programs after her marriage, not as a maiden.
It’s not only me, but many of my cousins facing the same problem. They are not even aware of this imprisonment. I’d settled here only a few years before. Before that, I was in a place where labels of my caste had not disturbed me. All the neighbors mingled with us freely. I was always welcomed everywhere. I could go anywhere alone. People never stared at me. The transplantation had changed my life style very badly. Now my world is not beyond the four walls of this house and the only neighbors I know are my relatives. Every other creature is a stranger for me.
When I’m too desperate sitting idle here, I run away to my cousins’ houses. Luckily I got many cousins in different parts of Kerala where I can breath, talk and move freely. However I’m a different girl outside my village. I used to roam around in nights wearing all crazy costumes. Laughing loudly, passing comments at guys, dancing in the rain, eating ice creams in winter, hauling for no reason… I just enjoy my break with all possible stuffs.
Still when I’m back at home, I’ll be in prison again. Whose fault, I don’t know… even if my family rules change; will the society accept us as normal human beings??? Will there be a day, when I can walk freely through the streets of my village!!!
It is always a matter of dispute whether politics can bring happiness for an individual. Opinion may vary, but for me, when I talked to my friend who was once a student leader, I’d to change my opinion. You should be ready to quit the role as politician as soon as you feel you would be thrown out.
Now listen to the story of my friend… He was my undergraduate classmate, a real comrade who always reacted both vocally and physically against anything that is unjust. His eyes had a spark that talks everything. Though the stout guy had an image of ‘high tempered youth’, he was well behaved and so a popular figure in the campus.
As an after effect of a political conflict in the college, he had to withdraw from everything. Now he is busy with his family business and agriculture. He doesn’t have the stamp of politician. He is now with his family as their lovable son. He can now sense the comfort at home.
I asked him, which is better, life of a politician or the present one. His answer was sudden, “No doubt, it’s the present life. Now I’ve peace in my life”.
Now days, I can’t write anything. I can only type my ideas with the help of keyboards. Writing has become a tough task. So I wonder, may be after a few generation, people won’t know how to hold a pen. Verbal usage, sentence constructions and spellings are corrected by computers. As we now never care to remember any one’s phone number when cell phones with huge phone books came to the scene, within no time there won’t be a need to learn the spellings as machines are there with auto correction keys. Again SMS mania has reduced the quality of language. No one bother whether their messages are grammatically correct. Machines can reduce paper wastage and there by prevent deforestation. But the art of writing is getting endangered.
In my childhood days, Mayavi was the hero and Luttappi was the villain. It’s not only my case but almost all of my age may have imagined so. These are the characters in Balarama, the children’s magazine of Malayala Manorama. My love for my mother tongue started when I started reading Balarama.
Slowly, I moved to Malayala Manorama daily. It developed a kind of passion in me to group words in simple language. I would say it as the trademark of Manorama, the thoughts are expressed in simple words. It also knows how to raise the excitement of the readers when needed. But I never recognized that it had such a powerful leader though I had attended some boring lectures of media history where this name was also heard.
It was another August 1 and another big loss for Kerala. KM Mathew, the Chief Editor of Malayala Manorama passed away yesterday, on the same day following Panakkad Thangal last year. KM Mathew was the last word in Malayalam media world. When he took over the charge in Manorama, which then had only single edition, had only fifth place in Kottayam. Now it is the largest regional daily in India, both in readership and circulation. Through Manorama, under the leadership of Mathew, all the modern and novel technologies became familiar to Malayalam media industry.
The daily was called even as ‘yellow journal’ by its competitors. Records and readership surveys gave answer to these comments. Now Manorama has grown to such a height that it has become the brand name of Kerala known around the globe. KM Mathew used to say,” I have no work here. I just come to office; others are the ones who keep Manorama going”. Words of simplicity by a master brain who himself is another name for regional journalism.
Another surprise is, all the media covered his death and gave as the first lead. Also they included a statement, “We also join the grief of Manorama family”. It is not the affection that one media house feels for another, it is the salutation for a person who had made the field of Malayalam journalism so powerful and dignified.
