A Deliberate Mistake

 

Albert Einstein, my most favourite scientist had put it very beautifully. “The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift”. 

I offer a small correction. (Teachers can’t help their habit of correcting. Pardon me). ‘The faithful servant’ does not remain faithful always and many times overshadows “the scared gift”.

Myself and my book designer played a trick with the readers in designing the book “Design values”. Many people may not have noticed it. Well then this trick seems successful. Can anyone now tell me where we fooled them?

Open page 63 and you will find my pen and ink sketch of a lovely baby face. What is special about it? 

It is an upside down sketch. Many people thought it was just a print mistake and pardonable. 

But whenever someone is opening the book in front of us, there would be a glint in our eyes with expectation. Will this reader be smart enough to notice, ask or find out his own answer why it is upside down? It cannot be a print mistake because it was carried on the same way in the second edition printing too. 

I always like playing with my readers.

Those who read Betty Edward’s classic “Drawing on the right side of the brain” would understand why we did it. 

The upside-down drawing is ‘tricking” the dominant left hemisphere of the brain into dropping out of the task. It is an exercise to tickle your right hemisphere of the brain, the seat of the “intuitive mind”. It is very subtle but thrilling. Even designing could be boring routine task if there is no thrill in it.

Betty Edwards wrote:

“Familiar things do not look the same when they are upside down. We automatically assign a top, a bottom and sides to the things we perceive and we expect to see things oriented in the usual way – that is, right side up. In upright orientation, we can recognize familiar things, name them, and quickly categorize them by matching what we see with our stored memories and concepts.

When an image is upside down, the visual clues don’t match. The message is strange, and the brain becomes confused. We see the shapes and the areas of light and shadow, but the image doesn’t call forth the immediate naming that we are used to.

For reasons that are still unclear, the verbal system immediately rejects the task of “reading” and naming upside down images. The L-mode seems to say, in effect, “I don’t do upside down. It’s too hard to name things seen this way, and, besides, the world isn’t upside down. Why should I bother with such stuff?”

Well, that’s just what we want! On the other hand, the R-mode seems not to care. Right side up, upside down, it’s all interesting, perhaps even more interesting upside down because the R-mode is free of interference from its verbal partner, which is often in a “rush to judgment” or at least, a rush to recognize name, and move on”. 

Of course, it started as a deliberate mistake. 

I remember that day; as my designer was showing me the final proofs before sending the soft copy to the printer. When I turned to page 63; with the upside down sketch, I stopped. I stared at her sitting opposite me, meaning “What is this?” She stared back with a smile in her eyes. I could read “why not?” in that smile. 

I looked back at the beautifully laid out page in front of me. 

Silence. 

Then I grinned widely and said “let it be. It is a great idea”. That is all!

Aren’t all creativity applications deliberate mistakes?

Mental stress and millennials

 Mental stress and millennials. 1

THE CAGED CHILDHOOD : 

Root cause: Judgement

"You do not define a problem, your problems ( the way you face them) define you." SB

The COVID19 virus threat made us stop the running for a while and reflect. It gave me time to look at a problem of my long concern.Nowadays, most of us are undergoing unprecedented mental stress. Why?

 This question made me ponder and arrive at a conclusion.I think the root cause is judgement.

A baby is happy after her basic needs like hunger, sleep are met and she smiles happily till we make her judge. Constantly we say this is right that is wrong, this is better that is worse, this is good that is bad. It is not just moral values of right and wrong. Needless, constant, automatic Judging soon becomes a way of life.

Who decides right and wrong? 

The Ghost of society?

If you cover a new born baby with silk cloth, if she doesn't like it, she kicks it off or pisses off and laughs. This careless freedom is lost when the same baby is 5 year old. She can't do the same anymore though it is the same person. Her act does not harm any other person. Yet the five year old cannot even wear her frock a little up or a little down. Any deviation from norm by self-will is punished harshly without giving any reason. 

In fact there is no reason. 

psychology clearly says that any act of suppression  creates heavy mental stress which in turn adversely shows on the body. There is mind-body connect.

The left handed children when forced to write with right hand, turned stammering or slow learning or dyslexic. The stress starts mounting inside the voiceless child. As the child grows into adulthood the problem becomes stupendous and really serious.

Ironically, the ability to judge is praised and promoted as a virtue while it is infact a cruel curse. 

 It makes one compare. 

To compare not only between one act to another, one thing to another but also between one person to another. Thus an unhealthy competition between different things and different individuals begins. You are made to think that some are better than the others. Inequality is introduced. Nobody wants to be lesser, so the mad rush and running starts to become more equal than others.

Now, everybody can't be the first or the best but foolishly everybody starts running to become first or best. The lucky one among the thousand reaches first while the rest 999 become depressed as they could not be the first. 

They keep running madly like a carrot hanging in front of a donkey, never stopping to ask what is so great in being the best or first. 

 Society invented grades, ranks, marks and awards to constantly promote and press this comparison and competition, constantly increasing this mental stress. This is the root cause of depression.

4 logical aspects are overlooked in such a rat race for being the best.

1. A person very good at one thing say playing cricket cannot be good at another, say cooking. It is impossible for any human being to be good at everything. Even Da Vinci was not a great dancer or cook.

So the best is very limited.

2. A person very good today at one thing say running or body beauty will not be so after 10 years. So the best is very temporary.

3. You mostly depend on an outer group's judging ( example: Nobel prize) and sheepishly follow. Alternatively, you depend on your subjective judgement -if a person is nice to you or impressed you somehow you judge him as best, no matter what the truth is. So the best is a matter of others' opinion or your own coloured bias, not truth.

4. It's not that only the top performer in the task is  required always. You don't need a race winning horse for your buggy. Winning horses are often killed. So best is only ego booster but not necessary.

The worst is when the gun of judgement is turned on yourself. 

Since the very influenceable childhood, you are brainwashed or forced to constantly run-  

1. to get best grades 

2. to learn this and that as many hobbies or earn as many credits as possible 

3. to get into best schools and colleges 

4. to get into the best companies for work etc. 

Why?

You are pushed ruthlessly by saying "this is good for you". Better, better, more more. No limits.

All this will leave you no time for yourself, nor for your inborn  likings. It is constantly pushing the extra anxiety and mental stress on you. 

You are made to compete with yourself which is most awful. It's against nature.

The constant self improvement is projected as good (for whom?). Think. It is actually constant self stress that is bad (for you). 

Success is projected as necessary for happiness. It's not true. You are not given time to reflect or ask questions like:

Why can't you be as you are?

'come out of your comfort zone', why? 

A fish is comfortable in water. Why should it come out 'to be stronger'? Why should it try to fly because some guys said it's a higher pursuit?

Why do you need world's validation?

 Why do you keep the key to your happiness in somebody else's pocket ?

Why do you need judging and need to find heros? What is wrong with failures and averageness?

What is achievement and who decides it?

Why do you need to make your face like an ideal or best face and torture it or wear a mask? 

Why not instead find a person who admires your face as it is? The mask will wear off sooner anyway.

Why do you feel low if you don't know something, say Latin? Nobody knows all.

 Why do you feel bad if you are black ? Or short?

(I like black, short people.)

 Who decided white is beautiful? Or who says you are not attractive? It's just an assumption, giving too much needless importance to what others may like or go by the parameters decided by people somewhere.

 Who cares? 

It's constantly drilled into your head by everybody that " it's a competitive world. If you don't push yourself hard, you will get nowhere in life." A big horrendous myth! 

It's like a stampede of rush which kills all the joy out of life if not physically making you mental wreck. Even when you reach your assumed goal, you are so dead tired to enjoy it.

Is that your real aim of life?

Just ask anybody. The highest honour on earth is the Nobel prize, right? How many Nobel prize winner names can you or others recollect? It's just momentary false glory. Most of the world population don't know, and don't care.

Read 'The Prize' novel by Irving Wallace and you will never want a Nobel prize!

This submission to the ghost and to outer dictates erodes your self-will, self-confidence and causes depression.

Mental stress and millennials -2

THE GROWTH AS PANDEMIC: 

Root cause: media addiction and  keeping the key to your happiness in others pockets.

"The modern millennial views adulthood as a series of actions as opposed to a state of being."

...Elite daily

Let's now turn to the adulthood depression which is most prevalent today especially in India. This is the childhood problem now compounded by growth of physical needs which didn't exist earlier:

a)Insecurity of facing the risky outer World after college, leaving the familial security of home and bearing the burden of life responsibilities.

b) The torturous dichotomy between the traditional morality with restrictions on love and sex at home /college versus the liberalism of western world which is bombarded by press, film / digital new media through all-pervading cell phones and laptops. Western culture is perceived as modern. Thus it raises a terrible Confusion between tradition and modernity.

c) Last but perhaps the most important- the insecurity of relationships. Fear of making commitment and terrible fear of lack of commitment from others.

I am not a psychoanalyst and I will not go into clinical cases and multiple reasons such as parenting, nuclear families, abusive childhood, social oppression and so on. Based on my experience with young adults, let me limit myself to mental stress due to insecurity of relationships.

The long nurtured attitude of judgement also installs in every body the false notion that everything is cause and effect. This is a myth in human relations. 

Love and affection are  emotions and emotions are not rational. If a Man loves a girl because she is beautiful, after a couple of years she ages or puts on weight, the love vanishes. If a girl loves a boy because he is good at singing, after a time somehow his voice fails, all love vanishes. It's not different from loving someone because he is rich or because he is in power or because he is knowledgeable etc. This is not real love but just attraction falsely thought as love. 

Many young people get carried away by a particular talent  or sweet talk of the other and get trapped in a relationship or marriage. This is the cause of many breakups and divorces.

 We must not forget that real love is:

1.Unconditional (not a mutual agreement)

2. Enduring commitment (not temporary/casual)

3.Non-rational (has no reason or cause )

4. Non-reciprocal ( though it's ideal. You may love but the other person may not necessarily reciprocate)

5. Non-egoistic, raises much above insults (total acceptance of the other). This is depicted in the touching scene in Kuchipudi dance drama where Satyabhama kicks Krishna on the head.

6. physical union is an expression of love. (It will not make the other love you.)

The insecurity of relationships  finds comfort in a kind of masochistic self denial and self depreciation,  blaming self for every bad thing happening around, exaggerating every small imperfection of yours as the worst in the world.  

Such " self-depreciation" automatically raises "other-glorification". Even a little virtue in those in contact is exaggerated vastly and termed as "the best in the world" or "prodigy" or "genius".

The converse effect is that it will make people who are closer /genuinely love you being taken for granted or even treat them with distrust. " I am ugly. I should be hated. Why is he/she loving me?" You can't find a reason because true love/affection is without a reason. Every judgement is a subjective opinion and there is no universal yardstick. Your self-doubt makes you doubt even the honest praise. Mistrust/emotional distancing develops and affects the relationship eventually. 

Remember the famous story, a satire on human nature, "The accursed house" by French writer Emile Gaboriau where the grace of the landlord waiving the rent was misunderstood.

The insecurity also makes you hang on desperately to those few people you have some rappo even if it is clear that those few are dominating you or using you like a doormat. you are afraid terribly of losing even that little solace. You have no confidence in making new friends or relations to be able to discard such exploiting and uncaring old ones. This also causes mental stress.

Intellectually bright young people who think a lot are prone to mental illness. You are encouraged to project and think "I am going to be the most successful and liked person." But deep inside, the memory of negative experiences makes you doubtful. So you think "I am actually a complete and utter failure and everyone always hates me." You feel guilty of disappointing the others' expectations though you never promised them anything. Simultaneously you think, "my friend is a genius, there is nobody like him."

In each case the polarised outcomes are extremes. All or nothing, best or worst, extremely over simplified and emotionally charged negativity or positivity.

Neither is accurate. It's dangerous absolutism.

The truth is that life is neither black nor white but grey and possibilities exist. You aggrandize (others) or depreciate (self) in accordance with your fluctuating emotions. Bipolar disorder sets in. This dichotomous over thinking is the culprit..

Neither overthinking nor under-thinking is good for your mental health. It's Buddha's middle path, moderation in everything, some time high, some time low. Just go with the flow.

There are some very practical reasons causing and multiplying depression:

1. The internet attractions make you not sleep enough and nor exercise enough. (overdose)

2. The glorified Workaholism ("the more I work, more I will be appreciated/ liked") makes you not rest enough. 

3. The false, "fair slim" body-complex makes you not eat enough.(extreme case is leading to anorexia) 

4. Junk foods deprive your body the much needed nourishment for DOPAMINE, the most important chemical in the brain.

So you feel tired all the time, no focus and no zest for life. Your libido also will be low. You feel like dying. That's what makes you cry for no reason.

A look at our notion of aesthetics is necessary at this point. Western thinkers have put too much emphasis on formal, surface beauty. This is very limited and false. Eastern thinkers viewed aesthetics in a holistic way, treating Form as only a part of the whole.

A girl is beautiful because of her personality and not just because of dress, makeup, facial or body beauty which are very short lived.

The comparison, troubling many young girls today, ("I am not good looking") is absurd. All flowers are beautiful though different. I may prefer jasmine, you may  prefer rose, but that does not mean jasmine is higher than the rose. How is it different with human beings? 

The ranking, drilled into all by the media, is rubbish. All human beings are beautiful, each in her/his own way. The ranking is foolish and subjective. 

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. 

Beauty depends on the amount of love.

If a man loves a woman, he finds her beautiful.

Beauty is a)holistic and b)depends on the degree of others' love.

I always maintained that "believing is seeing", not the other way round. You see what you believe it to be. In Sanskrit, "yato drishtih, Tato shrishtih."

Quietness is another complex. In the increasingly aggressive, loud world, the quiet people are a minority and suffer  a guilt complex. In fact there is nothing wrong with being quiet. But others may wrongly perceive this as lacking confidence, shyness or high brow attitude. None of these are true. 

Quiet people are strong in spirit. They are usually more creative because quietness is required for creativity. Most others are afraid of silence and therefore chatter. They are thus afraid of quiet people and run away from them. This should not be misunderstood as most people don't like you.

I like Zen which focuses on the beauty of silence (zen music), empty space (zen gardens) and blankness  (zen Calligraphy).

Mental stress is more prevalent in intellectually brighter, knowledge rich people than others. It's because they think  much more and their emotional intelligence is comparatively less. The phrase "ignorance is bliss" applies here.

Mental stress and millenials - 3

TOWARDS A SOLUTION: Just be and adaptable 

My purpose in writing this article is to make everyone aware of what is causing their mental stress. Awareness, I believe, is half the solution. 

The other half of the solution is to do something about it.Here are 18 very simple ways that can be done by yourself.

:

1.Do not judge anybody, especially do not be critical of yourself. Liking is personal taste. There's no high or low.

2.Do not try to change.Be as you are. Be with people who like you as you are and cut out all others who would want you to change or improve. Focus on self rather than the outside world.

3. Do not try to be best in anything or do not admire people who are best in something. It is nonsense created by the ego. Avoid all comparison, with one to another or one to yourself or yourself to self.

4. Do not let the world or social media or friends dictate what you should do or look like. Do what you enjoy, look as you feel like, giving a damn to anybody except yourself. Don't try to impress any.

5.Do not desperately hang on to a friendship or one sided relation which makes you vulnerable and exploited. If there is no trust or if there's just indifference from the other, have the courage to drop it . Time will heal the hurt.

6. Do not self depreciate. Trust those who appreciate you genuinely and befriend them always.The test of a genuine relation is this.

 He or she is there with you not whenever he/she wants but whenever you need him or her and gives you enough time and respect. He/she is there in your high and low, especially in low, stretching the hand when you fall, while others don't even know that you fell. He/she will not mind your insults.

If you don't know whom to trust and whom not, time is a good testing device.

7.Do not try the escape route by getting into addictions like drinking, drugs, smoking etc. Watch out, they eventually will ruin you. Even mobile phones, TV and the internet could be addictions.

8.You do not need to see a counselor or doctor as long as you have at least one trusted old friend or relative with whom you can be open to share and cry over his or her shoulder, without any fear of being judged, underrated, not keeping privacy or being harmed in any manner. Just to hear you out. No advice needed. It will have a purging and cleansing effect.

9. You do not need drugs or therapy either in most cases. Full time occupation is the best therapy especially if it is creative occupation and not demanding much guidance or much structure.           It could be bathroom-singing,writing,stitching,sketching, cooking, painting, reading, going to exhibitions, hobbies like stamp or coin collection etc. Artist Jatin Das has a lovely hand-fan collection. Charles Eames had a pebble collection. Your madness is your genius. Any diversion is a stress buster.

10. There is nothing wrong with talking to yourself, muttering or writing to yourself through a private journal. After a while you can destroy it. Free expression is therapeutic too. Take out your frustration with 'fu**' words or kicking the poor cat. No need to feel guilty.

11. Avoid social media as much as possible or keep it minimal. Do not expose yourself and become a victim of powerful negative brainwashing by all pervading social media such as "blue whale" and "fight club".  Getting bashed up will not make you stronger nor will it  give meaning to life. So is with death-wish. It is nihilism and self destructive.

 12. Know that you are not the only cursed one. Like the "emperor's clothes" everyone is depressed but doesn't admit it. Boys too are. So you are normal, get on with life without giving any undue importance to your depression. People with epilepsy go through fits but later they forget it like a nightmare and go on cheerfully with life. 

Cry when you feel like but no need to feel bad about it or ashamed of.

13. Just let it be. Accept things as they come to you. Want what lovingly comes to you than wanting a thing which alludes to you. Never feel guilty of anything. Things happen.

Be what you are, do what you feel like, nothing else matters. Don't be super sensitive.

14. Nourish your dopamine by eating/drinking:

 a)sugar

 b)bananas

 c)almonds 

d)tea.not coffee 

e)protinex 

f)vitamin tabs

 g) magnesium tabs

15. And by doing

 a)walk, cycle, yoga or any exercise

 b) keep strict unchanging daily routine

 c) adequate relaxation. Workaholism is in fact justification of inefficiency. It's not productive and it kills self. Don't be afraid of ' not doing anything' taboo. Isn't meditation  just that?

 d) Daily 7-8 hours of good sleep.(remember. It's catch-22. Depression causes sleeplessness, sleeplessness causes depression and...so on. You need to reverse it by inducing sleep by taking a warm water bath or drinking warm water or reading a cheerful book or soothing music before going to bed. The worst is falling off on your work, dead tired)

16.a) A regular conversation with a trusted person will  rejuvenate you. A conversation has no reason, no agenda, no goal. Talk about anything as long as you enjoy it.

b)Soothing through memes which are humour in dark times. Just an expression of your day-to-day struggle to make others aware. 

c)There are also ' mental health issues support groups' if needed. But they can't be substituted for professional help which is unavoidable depending on the severity of your mental stress.

17. Keep some object of love - a pet (puppy, cat, bird,fish), a little baby or a potted plant. Taking care of it, watching it grow, keeps your stress go.

18. As far as possible, be with your family, caring old friends and familiar surroundings which assure you mental ease.

Inner loneliness, emptiness, no-one to share, drives you to become psychopath. (See Film "Ingrid goes west")

I know all this is not as easy as said but one has to always try and negotiate the world around. That's the only way."if you don't get what you want, want what you get".

Summary:

Just be.

Do not try to be first, best, smart, fast, beautiful, knowledgeable nor talented. It's rubbish. Don't glorify work.

You are a fallible human being.

You are unique like everyone else. You have mental problems like most. Don't feel lonely for no one is liked by all. Stick to those few, even one person likes you. Don't feel empty. Do whatever, to fulfill life, Ignoring the world applause or jeer. 

Be adaptable to change. Patience shows truth.

………..,....................&………..…………………    

Students make the Teacher : The Portrait Gallery

 

DESTRUCTIVE LONGING TO BELONG- Confessions of a Teacher: 2

 

I WAS Chairman of Education at NID then. 

One morning, the security guard from the main gate called me to say that a beggar wanted to see me and that he claimed he was my student. When he came to my room, I was shocked. He was in dirty, tattered clothes; uncombed hair, shabby beard, hollow cheeks and lifeless eyes. I could not recognize the beggar.

'I am Gafoor', he said. 

My mind went back a few years. Gafoor Mohammed was a brilliant student when he was admitted into NID. The admission panel was amazed at his excellent drawing skills and superb aesthetic sense. He could not speak a word of English since his parents could not afford the costs of an English-medium school. His father was a mechanic in a small company in Pune. The boss of the company who saw the boy's wonderful self-taught drawing and painting skills encouraged his father to apply to NID, the premier institute of design in India. 

Gafoor's poor family lived in a chawl, in a single room. Once his friends had visited him and half way through the conversation Gafoor had said, 'Hey guys, don't turn back. My sister is taking bath there.' That room was also the family bathroom, bedroom, kitchen and living room: all in one. They were so poor. 

We admitted Gafoor as a first rank candidate and recommended conversational English classes for him to take. His first semester jury went very well and he seemed to have learnt some English. However, surprisingly in the next jury his performance suddenly dropped very low. We attributed this to possible initial problems in adjusting to his class here his peers were all fluent English- speaking, guitar-playing, party- going, smart and elite students. His counselor said that Gafoor would take time to mix with his peers but would pick up in time. We waited. 

Two years passed and the teachers started complaining of his absence in class. He had no friends in the institute, so we could not get any clue about his real problem. He started missing fee payments saying his family was having financial troubles. The warden however found out that he was receiving money orders from home. We gave warnings but did not want to dismiss him from the school considering how the poor family's hopes were pinned on him.

One late night, the security of the hostel made an emergency call to me to say that, a bleeding body of a student had been thrown in front of the gate and the assailants escaped in a rickshaw. I rushed there and found Gafoor lying in front of the gate, in a pool of blood, beaten to pulp, bleeding and unconscious. We admitted him in a hospital. 

Later enquiries revealed that Gafoor had desperately wanted to belong to an elite peer group. He could not learn to speak English or play guitar or dance but he fell easy victim to superficial short cuts to elitism such as smoking, drinking and before he knew it, drugs. He became an addict and started missing classes and drooling in stupor. He did not have the money even after spending away all the fees money for it. So he borrowed heavily and could not pay back. The drug peddlers beat him and dumped him. 

After he was discharged from the hospital, I sent him to a psychotherapist but in vain. He would not go. He would slip away somehow even if I sent another student to accompany him to the therapist. 

Finally, I had to give up. 

I called his father to take him away from NID and to admit him in a good de-addiction centre. His father was heartbroken and fell on my feet. 

After one year, I was seeing Gafoor again. His condition and his mumbled talk told me that he had escaped from the de-addiction centre and had come to hide here. He was starving and had not a single rupee on him. 

I sheltered him at my place, till his father came and took him away. That was the last I saw of him.

The Flood : Short Story

 

The rain kept pouring incessantly.

The streets were getting flooded.

Through the threads of water, the world was looking blurred.

What would happen if it continued even more?

My mind raced back few years; to a similar rainy night.

A phone call from my village. Far away in the south.

Ramanamma’s desperate voice.

 “Your brother Krishnamurty is sinking. Doctors lost hope. I am prepared. His voice is gone. But his tears tell me his last wish. He is pining to see Madhubabu. What can I do?” She choked…. 

Madhubabu!!

 Where can I find him and bring him to his dying father? Where can anybody find him?

 My cousin brother Krishnamurty was the first graduate of our tiny village Gunnathota Valasa.

He became the Head master of a High school in Raajaam village and was loved by the village people. A person who gives knowledge to their children and makes them earn a living is more than God to the illiterate villagers. He was married to Ramanamma. The couple did not have children for long time. After many vratams, visits to holy temples and long wait, they were blessed with a son.

The boy was named “Madhu”, the honey. The grandfather added “Babu”, an endearing word in Telugu, which means “Master” or “Little Master”.

Madhubabu was pampered by everybody in the family. The moment the child looked at something with interest, the next day it would be in his hands, be it a sweet or a toy. If he threw it and broke it, which he often did, the father would not scold him. On the contrary, he would hug him and shout with joy “Look, Ramanamma. How my son is teasing me. He is simply adorable.” If the child urinated in his arms, he would kiss him and say “Look. He did abhishekkam to me! Such a darling, I love him so much”.

 They employed a special Daadi to look after the boy the whole day.

Madhubabu was not sent to the school in the village. Chee! Not the ordinary school with ordinary kids. My son must get the best in everything. So, he was sent to the most reputed Maharajah school in the town of Bobbili, two kilometers away from the village. A cycle rickshaw was arranged to pick up and drop Madhubabu.

Even before he reached teenage, an expensive scooter was bought and given to him. It gave lot of freedom of movement to Madhu.

 Soon, Madhubabu got attracted to the glamour of films. He started spending more time watching whatever film came to Bobbili and other nearby towns.

 Krishnamurty did not mind. Madhu was still a child. We should not curb a child’s joy. He gave standing orders to his wife never to say no whenever Madhu asked for money. A child must have his fun, is it not?

 Every teenager falls in love. It is part of growing up, Madhubabu also did. But –

He did not fall in love with a girl. Not with a boy, not with a pet. He fell in love with the ‘larger than life’ image! He fell in love with a silver screen hero.

 Teenage Madhu was infatuated with Chiranjeevi, a Telugu film Superstar. He showed his commitment to his love by joining as a life member of the Chiranjeevi Fan Club. Soon he became a very active and dedicated member.

The members voluntarily promote Hero Chiranjeevi, almost fanatically. They will treat well all those who praise Chiranjeevi but beat up anybody who says even one word that is critical of him. To see Chiranjeevi’s film on the day of its release, first day, first show, is their religion. They block tickets en-masse for that show. During the show, as soon as the first Chiranjeevi scene appears on screen, they throw garlands on the screen, break coconuts, offer dhupam, deepam, naivedyam and aarati as you do to a deity in a temple. There will be more pomp and show, screaming slogans and whistling and jump dancing. It is hero worship, literally.

 Nobody dares to object, not even the theater owner, because he knows if he does, his hall will be burnt to cinders the very same day and nobody will dare say who did it.       Madhu started sleeping late and started neglecting studies. His marks came tumbling down. But Krishnamurty’s love did not allow him to scold the son. “He is still young. If he fails a year or two, what does it matter? He will pass later. Let him enjoy now. That is important for us,” Krishnamurty would say to his wife.

One day, early morning, the mother went to Madhu’s room with a cup of coffee to wake him up and to get him ready for school. He was not in bed.

She called and searched all over the house in vain. No one in the village knew his whereabouts. They discovered soon that his rucksack was missing. Every relative and friend was phoned but all answered in the negative.

Where is he? Is he fine? Why did he leave the house suddenly without telling anyone?

The whole family was drowned in grief.

Krishnamurty was shocked. He did not bite a morsel nor had a wink of sleep the whole day. He begged every friend and relative to search for Madhu. Enquiries were made at Bobbili Railway station and the bus station.

 At last there was a tiny bit of news and hope. Some shop keeper at the bus station said he had seen a boy of that description that morning with a rucksack. He could not say which bus he took.

 Krishnamurty now started worrying for the safety of his son. How would the poor boy survive without any money and without anybody to help? How could he travel without enough money for the ticket, for food and for stay? Who would wake him up from bed early in the morning with a fresh cup of coffee? If only he had asked him, he would have provided him money without any questions. Why did he not ask?

After three agonizing days, an answer was found.

The head clerk of the high school where Krishnamurty was Headmaster came to him and produced a small chit with Madhu’s signature for receiving 20,000 rupees. Three days earlier, as the head clerk had to go out of station on emergency for a few days, he had brought that cash to be kept in safe custody at the Head master’s house, as it was the custom.

Since he was in a hurry and could not find Krishnamurty, he had handed the amount over to Madhu to be passed on to the father.

 Krishnamurty was relieved a bit. His son was not starving. He told the clerk not to reveal this to any one; otherwise he would be sacked from his job. No one should know that his son ran away with school money. Poor Madhu wanted to have fun. After all, my money is his money. How dare you call it stealing? He gave a formal receipt to the clerk with his own signature. He performed an elaborate yagna at the temple for the comfort and safe return of his son.

The search was intensified. Ten agonizing days passed.

Then there was news!

A friend of Madhu’s informed them that Madhu was in Guntur, and that he could give the address. But his father should not go to pick him up; otherwise, he would not be found at the address given. The money he took away was spent and exhausted. He was afraid to come home and could not afford the ticket. What was he doing there?

“Don’t know, uncle” the friend said. But after everybody insisted and threatened to hand him over to the police, the boy broke his silence.

 “He asked me not to tell you. I swore to him. He did“Shata Ksheeraabhishekam” to Chiranjeevi in Guntur”. Hundred kalashas (pots) of milk were poured on the huge, thirty feet, plywood cut out of the hero Chiranjeevi on the main street.

Krishnamurthy could not believe his ears!

But first he had to rescue his son and bring him home. He arranged a group immediately to go to Guntur and fetch his son. But they were told to treat him very lovingly. No one should say one harsh word to him. No questions must be asked. On the contrary, they should praise his unique dedication to Chiranjeevi. Who would dare say it was foolish and downright stupid? My son would never do stupid things! He was born to me and he is special.

 Madhubabu was found in Guntur in a dingy lodge and was brought home. On Krishnamurty’s firm pleading, every one pretended as if nothing had happened. He was sent back to school with a medical certificate and a covering letter by his father for leave of absence!

 Krishnamurty neither reprimanded his son nor asked what he did and why he did it.  He did not want to hurt him by making him recount the event. Asking for the money was out of question!

Madhu failed in class that year and the next year too. The day when the results were announced, Madhu did not come home. A friend’s parent phoned and said that Madhu was reluctant to go home and face his parents, so he had pleaded to stay for few days with them.

Krishnamurthy met the high school authorities in Bobbili and was told that Madhu had been bunking classes regularly. Failure was inevitable. His name was being removed from the rolls.

 Krishnamurthy sent a relative to persuade Madhu to come home.

Neither he nor Ramanamma nor anyone else would say a thing. He warned his mother also not to say a single word. Real love forgives everything, does it not? I must be so nice to him because he is already depressed due to his failure. “We should cheer him up,” he told Ramanamma.

After Madhu finally returned home, he went to him and hugged him. He asked his wife to make his favorite dishes that day. He brought home chocolate ice cream, which Madhu loved. While he was eating he put his hand on his shoulder and told him very soothingly: “Madhu darling. Do not feel bad. I am there for you. I love you. I support you even if you fail ten times. I will put you in another school. If no school admits you, I will teach you myself. I want to see you happy always. You need a vacation to overcome this sadness due to failure. Seeing all your friends who passed makes you feel terrible, I know.  I will give you some money. Go to your uncle in Ramavaram village near the hills. It is a beautiful place with mango gardens and sugarcane fields. Enjoy the vacation well. Watch movies. A change of place will do you a lot of good. Uncle’s family is very fond of you. They will take very good care of you. You can do anything you want. Ok?”

 Madhubabu was silent.

All the time he lowered his head. He did not even nod his head.

Tears flowed from his eyes, quietly.

He was sent to an uncle’s place in Raamavaram with enough money, dresses and sweets.

Madhu still remained quiet.

He was confused. His looks were vacant. He wandered aimlessly here and there in the village. Uncle’s children took him to the fields and to their mango garden to cheer him up. It was in vain. He would not even go to see the movies. He would not touch his favorite dishes. Neither the delicious ripe yellow mangoes nor playing with other boys and girls lifted his spirits. Madhubabu seemed lost. He was listless.

Thus four days passed.

On the fifth day, in the early hours of dawn, his body was found floating in the village well on the outskirts.

 He had left the uncle’s place the previous night, saying he would spend the night with a friend in the next village. The police later recovered a suicide note, in Madhu’s own handwriting, under a stone nearby. The note simply read:

“No one except me is responsible for my suicide”.

PS: “Dear Nanna and Amma, I am not worthy of being your son. Forgive me if you can.

Yours insincerely…….. (Signed) MadhuBabu” 

Krishnamurty’s heart was broken. His loud wailing resounds in my ears even now.

“What have I not given you my son, to punish me thus? I always had forgiven you. Never hurt you a bit. Have I not looked after you with unlimited love? Why? Why? I already assured you about your schooling. Then? why? You could have told me what you wanted!”

 When I heard on the phone about Madhubabu’s suicide, I happened to be in the company of my learned friend Pulin Garg, a well-known psycho-analyst. I could not resist from narrating the incident to Pulin. I wanted to know the reason why Madhubabu committed suicide in spite of such a tolerant and exceptionally loving father. He was the ideal parent! Every parent wishes to be like that: loving, giving, forgiving and enduring.

Pulin heard me fully and calmly. He stared hard at me.

There was a brief silence.

When he replied, I was startled by the stark brutality of the reply.

 “The damn father killed the son.”

Before I recovered, Pulin got up and left, to save me the explanation.

 That night I had a dream.

I was passing through a vast, parched field. I was alone. I came across an abandoned well. I went nearer. A voice from the well suddenly caught me unawares. The weeping ghostly voice said: “Dad, Dad, slap me, dad, slap me. I want to live, dad. Please slap me.”

I fled from there: I ran through the fields. The voice haunted me. I ran and ran. I kept running. Away and away.

…  ……  …..

 Ramanamma’s phone call today brought me back to reality.

Lady Macbeth’s guilt is one kind, Madhubabu’s another.

The Rain kept pouring incessantly.

The streets were getting flooded.

Through the threads of water, the world was looking blurred.

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