Jottings - Slice of life - 439 ( The year 2020 for me - part 4 - the conclusion) A calendar year is only an agreed-upon convention for measuring time, as much as the lines of longitude and latitude are only imaginary lines around the earth. There is no intrinsic reality to any of them. Nothing changes tonight at 12:00 PM. The Earth is not going to pause for a few minutes, take a bow, and tremblingly announce across the galaxies that a new year has begun on a blue ( Carl Sagan’s description of the Earth)dot in the cosmos. No! It will simply move on. It is a uniquely human trait to measure time chronologically. All other species live by the natural rhythms of nature, except Man. To us, the ticking of the clock, and the shifting days on the calendar — are more real than ourselves. In 1752, when England decided to finally switch from the Julian Calendar to the Gregorian, Englishmen had to “lose” twelve days to synchronize the calendar with the Gregorian calendar — which meant that
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Jottings - Slice of life - 438 ( The year 2020 for me - part 3) Of all the arts, Music is the most mysterious, baffling, and therapeutic. It is still least understood how a column of air set to vibration by a mechanical instrument transforms itself into tones, harmonies, and melodies inside the human brain; and even more astounding is the subjective emotional states it gives rise to. Why an elongated stretch of tonal arrangement makes one sad, why do notes strung together in a certain alliterative sequence make us happy or meditative; or equally, why should some musical phrases seem cacophonous or irritating to the ears. Even Darwin couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation of the purpose of music in the human species. In his epochal treatise the “the descent of man” he wrote in a resigned tone: “ As neither the enjoyment nor the capacity to produce musical notes are faculties of the least use to man…. they must be ranked among the most mysterious with which he is endowed”. D
Jottings - Slice of life - 437 ( The year 2020 for me - part 2) I believe that a man should take stock of his life in time slices of decades, and not in years. A decade, in my view, is a good stretch of time to take a step back and look at the journey of the self — physically, intellectually, and emotionally. I have never seriously believed in New year resolutions. Except in few rare individuals who are able to translate new year goals into action, resolutions made on the spur and excitement of a New Year’s Eve are often jumpy, impulsive, and frivolous with no greater goal in mind than few days of psychological satisfaction on having done the “right thing”. Not that I haven't indulged in this exercise myself, but was fortunate enough to realize the futility of it soon enough. In 2020, I reached the end of my forties, and certainly one of the most transformative decades of my life thus far. When I look at this period, I cannot help but feel, that my previous decades of exi
Jottings - Slice of life - 436 ( The year 2020 for me - part 1) The general feeling as we reach the end of 2020 is that we are unlikely to witness another year like this — perhaps, not in the lifetime of those of us who are in our forties or fifties. At least, that is our hope. Looking back, when the year opened in January, little did anyone foresee the trajectory the next twelve months was to take. Except for a few secretive doctors and molecular biologists in Wuhan, China( working under strict orders), nobody else, I would think, had an inkling of the impending catastrophe that would bring the world on its knees. Within a matter of few weeks beginning in late February, the virus found its way across international borders, infecting human bodies with a mathematical precision only an epidemic can achieve. People around the world slowly, hesitatingly, and in many cases unbelievingly, awakened to the fact that a pandemic, a potentially deadly virus, was raging in their midst.
Jottings - Slice of life - 434 ( “The Prom” - a heartwarming movie, and romping performances by an ensemble cast) I have been watching Meryl Streep for at least thirty years, and I cannot remember a film where her performance was below par. In the annals of Hollywood, Streep has to be right at the top of the list. In over seventy-five movies, the sheer magic that she brought to each character she played, the versatility and choice of her roles, her preparation and commitment, and flawless execution each time the director shouts “ shoot” — is exemplary. Streep is not naturally blessed with an hourglass figure or blonde hair, but it doesn’t matter. She transforms herself to become beautiful when the character needs to, and that is the hallmark of a genius. Just as a chameleon changes color and translucency when it slithers into a new environment; Streep can, at a moment’s notice, change her entire demeanor as the scene demands. This complete transformation and absorption into each
Jottings - Slice of life - 435 - ( The art behind short stories and movie anthologies, and the failure of “Paava Kathaigal” to find its mark) Writing a short story can be much more challenging than crafting a full-length novel. As Clifton Fadiman, the acclaimed anthologist and writer, wrote in the preface to his magnificent collection of short stories published in 1986: “A good short story has to be a masterpiece in miniature”. Rarely in literature would you find a writer adept at both the forms: A James Joyce, a GK Chesterton, an E. M. Foster - perhaps. They were exceptions and not the rule. The art of condensing an interesting slice of life, encapsulating a symbolic moment within a few pages, etching out a character with a few broad strokes of one’s pen, the necessity to set the stage, progress the story, and conclude it with sufficient aesthetic release within a limited span of words — needs a very specific set of literary and storytelling skills. Great writers, generally, e