chaotic order

The word Parent is derived from its Latin verb "parere" - which means "Bringing forth". Interestingly. the origin of this word in the mid sixteenth century meant an opening up to reveal or bring forth a fully formed being. I was tempted to understand the root of this word because one of the important issues being debated today in western circles is about "single sex parenting". Two members of a the same gender approach a sperm donor or an uterus loaner, as the case may be, and decide to raise resulting children by being a parent to them. So there are two moms or two dads and the other half is missing from the equation. From an evolutionary perspective, this is quite a remarkable turn of events. Except in early forms of multicellular organisms, which is quaintly called unisexed, we don't have this phenomenon ever recorded in paleontological history. Every known organism that qualifies to be included in reproductive tradition have always exhibited a

In the annals of American History, none holds a more affectionate and respectable position in public mind than the scholarly figure of Benjamin Franklin. In fact, one would run of words and epithets to describe his multi-dimensional personality. A statesman, scientist, philosopher, philanthropist, Ambassador and more importantly the founding father of thirteen colonies that originally constituted the United States of America. In fact, it seems unbelievable, at this distance to contemplate that a single individual could have affected the destiny of a nation so profoundly in its formative years and give it the necessary moral and intellectual momentum to propel the country towards its growth, stability and prosperity – traits that have sustained this country for last two hundred odd years. This essay is however not about his political or scientific accomplishments, but a rather a facet of his life that is not widely known. He was the editor, publisher of a gazette, (a precursor to th

"Mardaani" - A Rani Mukherjee film... Many years ago, I remember watching "Hey Ram" , a Kamal Hasan movie on the Hindu Nationalist movement during partition. It was, if I recall correctly, a three hour feature film. At this distance, what I can conjure about it vividly in my mind's eye is the little cameo role essayed by the young Rani Mukherjee , as a Bengali teacher, killed during the madness of Hindu-Muslim riots. It was not only the passionate kiss executed with intense abandon, but her lilting husky voice spoken in low tones; sultry complexion; those gorgeous hazel colored eyes that seem to float around its orbs with fluid artistry - keeps leaping out of my memory again and again. I did not get to see too many of her films until the mid or later part of the last decade, but within a span of two years I chanced to watch "Hum tum", "veer Zaara" and then the masterpiece "Black". Here was a young lady, who had come into her zon

She was a born an aristocrat; educated in the highest traditions of the country; exposed to all the luxuries that life could possibly provide; could have chosen a career of her choice in any direction that she may have wanted to - yet, she settled to writing history for the common public. Barbara Tuchman, the grand dame of American life was perhaps one of the finest historians of the last two hundred years alongside the Durant’s, Toynbee’s and Jacques Barzun’s, who retold great stories of contemporary history in a form and manner accessible to educated citizens. Barbara Tuchman was born in 1912 into a Jewish family with a rich International banking experience, philanthropic institutions, and political new papers on her Father’s side; and a rich inheritance of political offices on her Mother’s. Growing up in the lap of luxury; educated in Walden and Radcliffe; worked as a journalist (in her father’s newspaper “Nation”), a writer reporting on the Spanish civil war; travelled the glob

“The entire idea of Christmas, sharing gifts and camaraderie is a big money making spin. I have grown past it, man... I don't give gifts to anybody, and I accept gifts from none. How can we be so credulous to believe that charity, love and sharing practiced one day in year makes us any more ethical or moral ..." He was a middle aged, black American, who joined us for dinner yesterday at a well-known Mexican place that we regularly patronize. The above remark was made in response to a greeting made by one of my friends (in all good faith, of course…). We looked at each other - puzzled. I said: "John (name changed). Whats wrong in celebration? Even if it be for a day in a year. Though I agree in principle what you say, I certainly would not be so vehemently opposed to giving into the spirit of the moment and enjoy the atmosphere. After all, Human beings need an occasion to let-go; and this may be one such day. Anyways John, I think you are trying to be an Intellectual

"One way" - a review.. A young bespectacled girl with large black eyes meets a young debonair Upper middle class boy at graduation day in 1988 ; goes to his apartment hoping to spend a night together; end up committing to be friends and not to be entangled in a physical relationship. They meet each other on July the 15th each year to exchange notes on their happiness, travails, challenges and dreams that the previous year had bequeathed to them; bond deeper, and part ways again to pursue their individual paths. Emma wishes to be writer, Dexter moves direction-less between one promiscuous relationship to another; drugging himself to numbness; hosting a flashy depthless TV show, but all along pining for that elusive unconditional, unselfish love that poets and artists have veiled our eyes with for ages now.. Literature has a term for such stoic relationships. They call it "Platonic" - indicating the possibility of fulfillment only within the interiors of ones bu

In a few days, I reach a chronological age when , by definition or statistical probability, at least half of my average life span has been expended. In other words, on a normal bell curve, I am at the median, and on the other side of it lies a series of data points that spread up to 70, with a large distribution of outliers as well. So on a life-span graph, assiduously constructed from sophisticated statistical tools, I am at point when One is supposed to make that transition to impending old age with dignity and grace. Though, physically the body has some distance to go before it can start showing signs of decrepitude, this short essay is more of an inner barometer of progress, or balance that ought to have achieved after having spent donkey number of years floating with and against the flotsam and jetsam of existence.. During my travel this week, I carried along two significant books that I managed , despite a vey busy schedule - to read and finish. One is Anthony storr's &

"Certified copy" - a movie about art and life.. The question of "What is art?" is very difficult to answer. And even more difficult is to explain art to others. When we look at a painting, what is it in the painting that draws our heart out to feel a strange empathy to subject painted. Is the clinical beauty of the painting, its colorful exuberance, realistic human forms, captivating landscapes - or is it just the confluence of a certain temperament in the beholder with what he beholds that generates a feeling of inner beatitude - Like a rainbow that adorns the sky when there is a symmetry between light and moisture. Also, is there anything called "original" art, or is every creative endeavor merely a pale reflection of the immense beauty and intricacy embodied in nature. Is art a reflection of nature or is nature a refraction of the observed in artistic terms. Difficult questions? On my way to the health club, I pass through my office building which

There is nothing much one can do with people who are compulsively argumentative. These are those half baked intellectuals, who have dipped their finger superficially into different caskets of knowledge, with a few catch phrases culled from their readings; holding on to their train of thought and deliberation with a tenacity worthy of a Cicero (Except that in sounds awfully hollow); feigning wisdom on supposedly every conceivable topic that could come up for discussion; consider it beneath their dignity to acknowledge ignorance; unwilling to hold a reasonable dialogue on a topic but insist on throwing names and praises in favor of themselves - that it becomes so very difficult for others to stay beyond a few minutes in the same room with them. Either, one need to raise ourselves to that level of superficiality or utterly keep quiet and let the other spend their energy, and pray that a more reasonable balance be achieved quickly enough. We are four regular members at the local sauna;

"Bala, I am at a loss on what to do. I have tried every trick in the book. I have openly criticized him, spoken embarrassingly in front of his peers, Made it known that he is becoming a burden on me; reduced internet options to send out feelers to him - nothing seems to work. My son is 21, and he continues to remain with my Wife and me under the same roof...." Jake (name changed) is a top IT decision maker in one of the largest airlines in the world. He had invited me out for dinner ; and we sitting in this posh Mediterranean restaurant with liveried bearers floating around, cutleries gleaming with silver and polish, and soft lilting tunes from Arabic percussion instruments were wafting through the air. A gorgeous looking middle eastern waitress had just placed a platter of Kebab's on our table and bowed away noiselessly for us to continue this conversation. Jake was talking about quality of professional and personal life in IT industry; and that is when he drifted to

My best read of the week - "Hiroshima" by John Hershey. On August 6th 1945, Hiroshima felt the impact of what is largely considered as the most brutal, inhuman and completely unnecessary act of innocent annihilation ever undertaken in the annals of Human history. Let us for a moment relive the lives of those ordinary men and women, who woke up that fateful day, going about the daily chores, lost in their world of mundane Human predicament, caring for their young and loved ones, living the monotony of life, unmindful of the aerial bombings by allied forces that had become a mechanical part of their lives – and more importantly - blissfully unaware of the tremendous catastrophe that was about to be unleashed on them on that bright morning. It was just an ordinary day for the citizens of Hiroshima, caught in the polarities of a world war that they could little understand, and much less appreciate. They believed that Americans were predatory and it was a matter of time before

t was a brand new Boeing 737-900 flight. It smacked and smelled of newness. The flight attendant told me as I seated myself in the first-class cabin, that this is the second time this beauty is going to be airborne. Large TV screen, clean pale blue seats with spotless covers, enough leg room and sufficient space between adjacent seats for privacy. I was bone tired after a grueling week at work with hardly enough sleep,; so the moment I settled down in my seat, plugged my earphones, opened the biography of Nietzsche ; and after having read a few pages drifted into a blissful sleep. It was 8 A.M in the morning. It was an hour later that I woke up. The plane was by then, I guess, flying at an altitude of well over 31,000 feet; an utterly still cruise through the air, hardly any turbulence. All my co-passengers had finished their breakfast, and flight attendants were clearing the plates. Coming out a deep sleep, it took me a while to get a look at my neighbor. At first glance, I could

Yesterday afternoon, I happened to see a beautiful film on Netflix. It is one those unsung, low profile movies that didn't quite make it to the galleries, but for those who believe that art is all about sensitivity, intellectual stimulation and an exploration of human relationships and meaning of life - then "Liberal arts" is most definitely a film to be watched. A quiet Newyorker, educated in English literature, tries to find his idealism in the world outside. An avid read er and thinker, he experiences deep boredom in living a monotonous and purposeless life. Out of the blue, he is invited by his favorite professor to his retirement night dinner in campus. So Jesse goes to the party where he meets a young sophomore girl, who kindles his interest in life again. Some of the best parts of the film is when Jesse and Zebbie (sophomore, played by Elizabeth Olson) discover the therapeutic value of Music and its depth. The movie then goes on to explore the gap between dream

In the year 1751, The English parliament passed a bill to bring its Calendar in tune with the Gregorian cycle that was used all over Europe. It was called the Calendar (New Style) act 1750 or Chesterfields act, named after the Earl who introduced the bill. The effect of this change was to begin the New Year on first of January rather than the traditional twenty fifth day of March ( Lady Day - the feast of annunciation ). The first consequence of this bill was to make the year 1751, the shortest in the Christian era - only 282 days; and the second, more profound impact was to be felt when the subsequent year 1752 was to advanced by 11 days (11th September was followed by 14th) to adjust for equinoctial fluctuations. . This had deep psychological repercussions in society. It meant that people lost eleven days in their lives.!!!!!!!!!! There were huge protests in England against this move. The measurement of time - so ingrained in the human psyche led to the belief that by advancing d