POPULATION INVERSION

I need not explain 'Population Inversion' to a reader who has learnt Physics. For others let me put it like this. Suppose there are two cities A and B. Let there be one lakh people in A and none in B at 10 A.M on any Sunday. Instead if, say, 75000 people of the total population of A is found in B at 10 A.M on a Sunday, we say that there is a 'Population Inversion'. Not too long ago this phenomenon was very much visible in CMS college. During class time there were more students in the lover's path and adjoining areas than inside the class. A classic example of 'Population Inversion'.

This note is regarding some sort of a 'Population Inversion'happening in Kerala at an alarming pace. But as usual Mallos are very complacent. A recent article in the 'Malayala Manorama' gave some frightening statistics. There are some 25 lakhs of labourers from other states working in Kerala making them 8% of the total population of this tiny state. The article predicts that by 2017 this will be a whopping 20% !!! And none, not even the government, seems to be concerned. Suppose one labourer earns on an average Rs 500 per day and works for 325 days in an year. Then the total outflow from the state per annum is over Rs 40000 crores !!!

I often think of the decimated KELTRON. When none in India and not many in the world thought of electronics, KELTRON was already a giant in the field by the end of the sixties. By the seventies there was only one brand in the TV market. That was KELTRON. Traffic signals in big cities in India were provided by KELTRON. Students and professionals used KELTRON calculators. But suddenly KELTRON started collapsing. There was more politics there than IC's or chips. And today KELTRON is doing 'piece work' for others peacefully without any political interference as there isn't much to be destroyed. We have a nice name for 'piece work', outsourcing !

LG, SAMSUNG or other Korean companies were not even pigmies then. Anywhere outside India the KELTRON of the seventies would have grown into an IBM or Microsoft. Even inside India miracles would have happened if KELTRON was outside Kerala. If things had gone well, entire Kerala would have been a hub of activity in electronics. Kerala would not have needed any other industry. Electronics was ideal for Kerala as watches are to Switzerland.  Kochauseph Chittilappally of the 'V-Guard' empire was an apprentice at KELTRON. Now KELTRON might be doing piece work for him. Great opportunities come but once in many decades. Lament Kerala lament.

The electronics revolution which had its genesis in Kerala in the form of KELTRON failed here and happened with greater vigour  elsewhere. A poignant 'population inversion'.

Out of the (gear)box solution

Like most boys in their early teens, my ambition too was to become a truck driver. But mine was slightly different. I wanted to become the driver of a tanker lorry.

SPMS (Sree Parabrahmam Motor Service), HHYS (Haji Hassan Yakoob Sait), KCT (Kerala Co-operative Transport, Nelson motors etc were some of the buses I used to travel during my school days. Benz (now TATA) or Leyland  were then very few in number. Most of the buses were of the Bedford and Fargo make. I often recall this Pachu and Kovalan cartoon. One day Kovalan asked Pachu the meaning of "Bhargo Devasya Dhimahim". And the omniscient Mr Pachu translated it as: "Devasyachante Fargo Vandi Mahi enna sthalathu vachu 'dheem' enna sabda-thode vedi theernnu"!!! The Gayathri mantram cannot  further be simplified. Anyway this Fargo make was very common those days.

Rajaram Motors

Rajaram motors was a bus plying in the Ochira-Pandalam route. Of all the buses I have traveled in, Rajaram Motors has a special place in my memory. (In a previous post, Kunj Bihari Khandelwal, I wrote that seemingly insignificant, small little things and persons are too .big for me to forget)

Usually the Kili stands on the foot board. In the small little "Itta Vattom" of the foot board, the Kili performs all kinds of acrobatics. Unlike his counterparts elsewhere, the Kili of Rajaram motors was given an honourable place behind the driver. While the driver sat on the hot seat, the Kili had to stand behind him. The Kili of Rajaram Motors had a very special duty to perform. No acrobatics, no somersaults, no pyrotechnics. There was just this unique duty to be performed with ascetic concentration of the body and the mind.

In buses, the gear is behind the engine/bonnet , behind and a little to the left of the driver. Sort of  'first slip' position for the left handed batsman. Now the story. The gear of the Rajaram Motors had the problem of slipping,ie, if the driver goes to the 4th gear and leaves it, it will fall into neutral gear any time. See, necessity is the mother of invention. And the driver invented a new role for the Kili. Like the "On Your Mark, Get, Set, Go", here the gear goes from 1st, 2nd, 3rd. The driver puts the gear to the 4th and the Kili takes hold of it and keeps it in that position. This is a 'highly sophisticated' technology. If the Kili is late by a wink in accepting the gear from the driver, the bus will run in neutral gear. Similarly if the driver wants to bring down the gear, the Kili will have to let it go into the drivers hand with great synchronization. The Kili had become a part of the gear box allowing no slips.

Without having to go anywhere in the Pandalam route, I had traveled by the Rajaram motors many times just to watch the driver-kili combine in action. 

K A Stores, Collectorate P.O, Kottayam

This one room shop is near the Kottayam Collectorate and very near the Kottayam East Police Station.on the left side of the KK road from Kottayam to Kumily. Owned by Mr Muhammed, he runs the shop assisted by his four children Najeeb, Nazeeb, Mujib and Azeeb.

In 1987 Susan and I started our life in a rented house behind the K.A Stores. Those days the four children I mentioned above were kids. Azee might not have even arrived. Then they were not mature enough to do business. I remember the foursome coming to the shop one by one at regular intervals of 2 or 3 years to help Mr Muhammed. There was a person called Babu working in the shop. Like Muhammed, Babu too was from Kannur. Those days the electronic balance was not in use. Be it rice, sugar, tea, dal, oil or whatever Babu had to manually weigh it on the beam balance. He was such an expert in weighing that the beam never tilted in favour of the customer nor in favour of Muhammed. And this he did with amazing speed.

When Renjan  was a small baby it was very difficult to feed him. He would never open his mouth .We would take him to what eventually came to be known as"Babuvetta kada" and show the busses and other vehicles and feed him without his knowledge. Still it took a long time to finish a bowl of Ragi with milk and sugar. I remember telling him this once "Mon you should complete this at least  by the time this Mundakkayam bus comes back. (Mundakkayam is some 50 km from Kottayam). One day Babu told me in typical Kannur slang " Sar Ente Maeri-yaege aanu". Babu left some 18 years ago but still for us K A Stores is Babukkada or Babuvetta Kada.That is how I have saved it on my mobile.

During the second half of nineties margin free shops were mushrooming in Kerala with all those question marks and exclamation marks as trade mark. One fine morning one such thing sprouted adjacent to K A Stores The scenes next were heart breaking for Mr Muhammed and me too. Every single customer shifted loyalty and K A Stores wore a deserted look. Probably I was the only one to go there as usual. The row of parked vehicles extended up to the Plantation corporation head quarters. Those days I used to wonder how  people can so easily abandon a place they have been visiting almost every day for years. But then, margins matter ! This went on for months together.

Najib the eldest of the four sons of Mr Muhammed was then in some gulf country. He returned and took charge of the shop. With his golden tongue and pleasing manners that reflected his honesty, he could win back a sizable chunk of those who went after question marks and exclamation marks. Full marks to Najeeb !

By 1995 we shifted to our newly constructed home in the Annan Kunnu, some 2 km from the K A Stores. But we still go there for our grocery and vegetable requirements. We have some 3 or 4 supermarkets within 1 km , the biggest being just 200 meters away. But at K A Stores we are very much at home. Not that I am averse to getting a commodity at a lesser price. I cannot buy a thing from a person sitting with a stiff neck, locked lips and suspecting eyes all the time.  At K A Stores I even developed an exclusive communication language. Once I went there with Pradeep (2000 MSc batch) and I told Najeeb," Kolu Kalu,Kannan Ara, Njali onnu". Pradeep stared at me with wide opened eyes. His eyes grew wider when within 2 minutes I got 250 gm of Drumstick, 500 gm  of Kannan Devan tea and 1 Kg of Njalippoovan Pazham (plantain fruit)

It is 26 years now since we have been shopping at the K A Stores. If there is something like customer satisfaction, I am more than satisfied. I would advice MBA students to do their internship there.

Mr Muhammed talks very little. But there is humour  in whatever little he talks. And he has this incredible sense of hearing. When the foursome and I bla bla bla  standing by the busy KK road, he will answer from inside the shop !

The four boys are extremely disciplined. Their pleasing manners and sweet words are not any pretension. It should be right from their hearts. Otherwise those would not have reached mine. Last year when the government imposed a ban on plastic carry bags we didn't feel any difficulty.. At the K A Stores  for very long, we were given things wrapped in love !!!

I enjoy going there. My only scare is Azeeb, fondly called Azee .... I mean ... his lower than the lowest waist Jeans !!! Sometimes I stand with bated breath lest it should come down !!! It is dangerously low as the ad people proudly claim !!!

The Mall Malady

It was in 2005 I first stepped into a Mall. My friend Koshy took us (Anna,Renjan, Susam and I) to the Forum Mall in Bangalore. I was shocked by most of the things I saw there. As a teacher of Physics, I was dismayed by the criminal waste of scarce energy. The massive edifice was centrally air-conditioned.  Escalators were working all the time with not many people going up or coming down. I found any number of window shoppers and very few really buying anything. The only place where I saw something happening was the eateries. There were any number of boys and girls in their twenties devouring junk food with a vengeance.

Back home I was very much disturbed. Quantifying something is not my cup of tea. Yet I thought on the following lines. Using the electrical power wasted by one mall in a day you can supply electricity to at least 100 typical Indian villages for at least two months. I thought of the hapless, unprotected  adivasis who have been uprooted from their traditional habitat for the construction of dams to produce hydroelectric power , only to be indiscriminately wasted in make believe  worlds like Malls. I did not share my concern then even with Renjan. But I felt very happy when, some two years later, he told me that he could not enjoy the scenes at the Mall as he too was hugely saddened by the monumental wastage of energy which eventually contributed to an accelerated global warming.

An argument in favour of Malls is that you get everything at one stop. But then do you buy everything every day? How many of us go to a mall at least 5 times a month to buy a pair of Adidas shoes, a pair of Ray-ban sun glasses, a Samsung Galaxy, a Sony camera and a kilogram each of potato and onion??

In 2010 we were in Mumbai in connection with Renjan's joining the TIFR. In the evening we were at the Nariman Point and I couldn’t believe  that I was in India. Here again I was shocked by the energy wasted. If the power there was switched for 10 or 15 minutes that would suffice to light up hundreds of villages for one or two months.

Back home I stopped the habit of switching off the fans and lights that were not needed because I realized that things have reached a flash point and individual efforts are meaningless. This is one of the problems of quantifying a thing. Don’t quantify you happy-go-lucky wanderer at a Mall !

FDI

FDI. These are the three most dreaded letters for millions of retail shopkeepers across our country. Foreign Direct Investment. Why? What for?? For whom??? These are questions that keep disturbing me.

Go for the Moon. These were the encouraging words used by teachers in olden days when they found that a boy or a girl is good in academics, sports or arts. Those days teachers were infinitely ambitious about their students.

Today, India is on its way to the Mars as the Moon is too small an accomplishment. India has enviable indigenous technology for a Chandrayan or a Mangalyan. But to sell potatoes and tomatoes we need Walmart or Carrefour. Centuries ago the East India Company was not invited to India. They came here, saw us and conquered us. Now today we are rolling out the red carpet to those who are itching to "provide better service" to Indians. Why our leaders are not showing the wisdom to realise that  this "better service" is only a prelude to invasion and conquering with out any blood shed. the technology needed for retail business cannot be any sophisticated nor the investment needed too big for a country of our vastness. I wont undermine the merits of huge industrial houses entering the retail market. Procurement, processing, preservation, logistics etc are no mean things. But, it definitely is not a 'Martian' task as compared to the Mangalyan.

Despite all the merits of FDI in the retail sector shouldn't India think of its millions of citizens becoming job less? The new generation answer will be "such things are inevitable in a globalised world".

Can you ignore the following story, the story of this educated but unemployed young man of Tunisia? When getting a job conforming to his educational qualifications remained a dream, he decided to make a living by selling vegetables on the streets of Tunis, the capital city. But the young man had to keep shifting his mobile shop when the police started using its muscle power. This seemingly small incident snowballed into a revolution that brought down the autocratic regime that was in power for decades. The revolution drifted to neighbouring countries and we know what happened in Egypt. Syria is still on fire.
So, if a boy selling potatoes could be the seed for a revolution, just think of what millions of young and old retailers who were in the business for generations, are capable of doing. See, hunger is a phenomenon that has toppled empires. New generation solutions are for new gen problems like internet speed or latest mobile apps. Pizzas or burgers are for those eat for the sake of eating and eating more. Pizzas and burgers are not a solution for hunger of millions.FDI in retailing …… My bare foot ! (Sorry, I do not know the English for Olakkede moodu)

PPAJ

PPAJ ?? 

Yes, PPAJ. 

Means ??

Wait a minute.

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After posting the story of the Darlings I thought of some of my students with the same name in the same M.Sc batch. I think the trend started with the two Mini's of the 1988 batch. One was Mini John and the other was Mini Oomman. . Then there were two Simi's in a batch ( 1992??), Simi Zachariah and Simi Sanker.I think a Bengali girl Reema Poddar was in that batch. I used to re-live my MSc days in Agra by talking to her in Hindi. There were two Suja's in the 1993 batch. In the 1994 batch there was a Jayan and a Jaya. In the 1997 batch, there was a Jyothi, a Lakshmi and a Jyothi Lakshmi !!! There were two Ranjini's in the 2004 batch. In the last (official) batch I taught (2013) there were two Harikrishnan's. To differentiate between them I used to address one as Hari and the other as Vaikom Hari. Both are artists. Hari paints while Vaikom is an expert in 'Kalamezhuthu'.

Now comes the Mother of all names, PPAJ. Priya Parvathi Ameena Jose !!!

Legend has it that her grand father was a freedom fighter and that he wanted all faiths to be equally represented in his grand daughter's name. She was a brilliant student of the 1995 (?) batch..She used to be very pleasant always yet preferred to be very subdued and walked with a perennial loving smile She now teaches Physics at the St: Theresa's College Eranakulam. From her student Anjana ( Anjana was my student too) I learnt that Priya, as the name suggests, is the darling of the Physics students at the St.Theresas College.

There were some more 'pairs'. But I  don't remember. If you do please write.

A word about the 2013 batch
This class was very special for me. They were my officially last batch. The boys and girls were all very loving. The measure of their love and respect for me defied all logic. Without exaggeration I can say that theirs was a libation with love. This is not to say that I deserved it or I enjoyed it. But that was their attitude. They took me along with them for their tour to Kodaikanal, a place I love visiting again and again. I really want to thank them for their unfathomed, unbounded love.
 Harsha, have you read this??

DARLING DARLING

There was a Malayalam movie by the name "Darling Darling". This post has nothing to do with the movie. Anyway it is not a title for a title.

On this years Teacher's day I received a phone call and without giving me any time to say 'hello' the girl on the line started talking incessantly without telling me who she was. Ninety-five  percent of the feminine voice I hear over the phone are from the same girl telling me the same old things like " the subscriber you have dialed is busy", etc. Suddenly most people have become very busy. And this girl was talking as if she has all the time in the world and nothing to do. When the talk went on and on and on with an overflow of powerful words of praise and sincere words of gratitude I started doubting whether she was talking to the right person. When she stopped for a breath I slipped in and politely asked who she was. "Oh Sir, you didn't get me? I am Valyomana"  I felt amused for a variety of reasons. First, I was hearing her voice after some 26-27 years (except for a short phone call some time back). Another thing, I had never seen or heard Valyomana without Kochomana !

                                                          

The Omanas were identical twins. They were my PG students of the 1984 batch. Valyomana as her name suggests was a tad taller than Kochomana who was a full five feet ! They were from Kumaranallore near Kottayam. From LKG to PhD they were together.

After they left the CMS college, Kochomana was back here for a week for the "One week with a scientist" programme funded by the central DST.  12 students were selected from various South Indian Universities.  They had the opportunity to spend one week  in the CMS college campus, interacting and discussing Physics with Prof E.C.G Sudarshan. Prof Srinivasa Rao of IMSc Chennai also was there for the programme. On the first day there was a self introduction session. When Kochomana's turn came, Prof Sudarshan rose from his chair and said, "She is Kochomana which means the 'Little ..... ". At that moment I felt butterflies in my stomach. I wondered, how will Prof Sudarshan translate "Omana"? Even as all these things happened to me in a flash, Prof Sudarshan completed: "she is Kochomana meaning 'The Little Darling' ".( He translated the name so that students from out side Kerala understood the meaning)

                                                         
Yes, where ever they went they were the darlings of one and all. The two remain very dear to my heart even after all these years.
                                                          
                                                            

KUNJ BIHARI KHANDELWAL

This is another bank story. If the earlier one was as a boy of St John's High School Mattom, at the SBT, Kayamkulam, this one was as a PG student of St John's college Agra at the SBI, branch there.

Many of my friends wonder how I remember all those small incidents of 40 or 50 years back. The fact is that I remember only small things ! The  greater fact is that I don't have big things to remember !! The Khandelwal story is one such small thing.

After joining the MSc course at the St John's college, Agra, I opened an SB account at the SBI branch near the college. The bank was on the right side of the road to Raja-KI-Mandi from the college. I do not know whether the bank is still there near the Fine Arts Studio. Those days somebody told me that the proprietor of the studio had 4 or 5 PG degrees.

Now comes the problem. Those days my signature was not very consistent. During the four seasons it looked in at least four different ways. And the intra-seasonal variations weren't any small either. Every time I went to the SBI to draw money, I was sent back empty handed. No two of my Fermionic signatures bore any similarity. Each time the HOD of Physics Dr J.K Ghosh Sir issued me a certificate stating that "I am me" and that the cheque may be honoured. And the bank started giving me money  honouring Ghosh Sir's certificate and not my cheque. This procedure continued for a year. At the start of the second year I found a new person at the counter. He might have been 20 or less then. After 2 or 3 months he told me that I need not disturb Gosh Sir. Instead I may put some signature on the dotted line in whatever form it came out and he shall honour it. I had a sigh of relief. At the end of my course I went to the bank to thank him. And he told me that it was his duty to help the customers  and that he has not done any big thing. His name was Kunj Bihari Khandelwal. Then he was so young that he might still be in service.

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The story might not be very exciting. But if I remember that person by his name even after 35 years, it is because his kindness had touched my heart. I remember all those seemingly small incidents and  small people. But then, these are too big for me to forget.

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CHEQUE MATE

My first transaction at a bank was when I was an 8th standard student. I was sent to the State Bank Of Travancore branch, Kayamkulam with a cheque to be encashed. There I did what I was told to do. I gave the cheque at a counter and I was given a brass coin. I was shocked as I was told that when I give the cheque they will give me Rs250. Rs250 of the sixties !! And I am give just a brass coin. I thought I was going to collapse. Sensing danger the man at the counter pointed to the cash counter without saying anything, The man wearing a thick glass could not talk as he had a mouthful of 'murukkam' (pan). Years later I thought of this man when I watched the movie 'Poochakkoru Mookkuthi'. The manager of the hotel where Mr Cherian Nair (Kuthiravattom) tried to get clandestine accommodation, was a look alike of the 'pan man' at the counter who gave me the brass coin. (It was only much later that I came to know that it was called a token and understood the working mechanism of that wonder coin). At the cash counter the man, without looking at me, stretched his hand towards me. I was confused. I thought it was for me to stretch my hand towards him to get the money. He remained in that posture without uttering a word. Those days bankers were like that. They seldom talked and never looked at the customer. There was no question of their ever smiling. (This continued until the new generation banks came to the scene.They had a wonderful appearance, deceptive or not, I do not know). Anyway realizing my illiteracy in banking procedures the man snatched away the brass coin from my hand and handed over Rs 250 to me.

What happened next was the most funny of all. (that day it wasn't any funny to me) After getting the money I remained there not knowing that the transaction has been completed and that I can go. I waited there for somebody to give me permission to leave. I might have waited there for an hour. Then I slowly walked out of the bank turning back frequently to see whether any banker was following me. I could breath easy only after I had crossed the road and dissolved into the crowd.
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These days I am awestricken  at the smartness of young boys and girls. May be nothing is mysterious to them as they see a lot of the world on the TV right from their childhood. In olden days "Gavaskar CHAKKA MAARA", and it ends there. We, listening to the commentary over the radio had to see all the action in our mind.  A square cut or a catch at midwicket or Eknath Solker's magic at forward short leg.
So I conclude that mystery precedes fear. No mystery, no fear.  I still live in a mysterious world. It is a more romantic place !
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JOHN CHACKO MENON

Hope you have read my previous post "SINE, COS, TAN, LOG AND LOGJAM ". If not please read it.

There was another contribution to the logjam. That again comes from the cos thetha - sin thetha teacher. Just before leaving  after that devastating first class he made an announcement."All of you should buy the Physics text book by John Chacko Menon !!!!!!!" I was thrown of my seat. John Chacko Menon ???? A staunch follower of Christ, I could not append a Menon to my Christian belief. I could not believe that a person can have a name like that. "Cultural integration", "integration of faith", and such integrating terms were yet to be coined as there weren't any sort of disintegrations those days other than that of the radio active variety. Later in life I heard about Cherian Nair immortalized by the immortal Kuthiravattom Pappu in the movie "Poochakkoru Mookkuthi". After that I heard Amar Akbar Antony. Then those three great men," Sagar Alias Jacky" !!! (Throughout that Mohan Lal film people searched for the elusive Mr Alias). But this John Chacko Menon was really devastating for the 16 year old boy of the early seventies. It took me some more days to come to grips with John Chacko Menon. This John was Prof K.K John of S.B college. I had the good fortune of being his student during my BSc. He was a great teacher. I owe a lot to him. He taught Physics with incredible clarity. And the Chacko was Prof K.C Chacko. When I joined the Physics dept of CMS college, he was the H.O.D.  And Prof Menon was in one of the NSS colleges. And to sum up, I bought the book by John Chacko Menon and realised that Physics is a very secular discipline.

MY SECOND RETIREMENT AND PREM NAZIR

I retired first in May 2012. This is the story of my second retirement 'sometime in 2013'.........sort of  retired hurt.

This second retirement in just over an year of the first has nothing to do with the superstar of the yore of the  Malayalam silver screen. Yet I thought it appropriate to use his name as it was the most inappropriate thing to do ! Well,..... disorder being the order ....... you know. Even nonsensical things are appreciated and glorified out of proportions if they carry nice captions. For instance, record some meaningless gyrations of your shapeless body and post it on the you tube with a catching caption like "Kannan style" or "Kannappan style", the thing goes viral.  Recently Renjan showed me a comparison. The pictures of puppies were viewed and highly appreciated by lakhs of viewers. and there were 700 viewers for the "Endoro Mahanubhavulu" in Sree Ragam  played on the violin by the Maestro Lalgudi Jayaraman !

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So my second retirement.  I cannot say that I was re employed as re employment fetches you a salary. Yet I felt extremely happy when I was called back to the Physics dept of CMS college. And I was again among young PG students. I could not resume those 8 A.M classes as the new students felt it a little too much and we settled for a 9 A.M start. And the classes went on and on and on as it used to be in the (g)olden days. I enjoyed and the students were very happy. But ....... . I realised that I cannot work with dignity and I quit. Thus my second retirement. In some earlier post I have described my first retirement when at 4 P.M of May 31st, 2012 I walked down the stairs with none to see me off ........ an uneventful departure.
But this time things were very different. Very colourful and vociferous.
There were all kinds of 'cards' to send me off.
Yellow, red, vibgyor, which I (I alone) could see. And there was this four parts harmony, which I (I alone) could hear. "Never come back, never again".
Clairvoyance ??? I do not know.
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Now how come Prem Nazir? No way ! But I have to find out a way.

During the mid eighties the mimicry artists were still very apologetic on the stage. Their 'samhara thandavom' started by the nineties. For most mimicry artists Prem Nazir was the theme for their atrocity.  Prem Nazir was very soft even in stunt scenes unlike,say, Mohan Lal who has lightning movements planting heavy blows on the hapless villain. In a show an artist mimicking  Nazir walks gently towards the villain and plants a mild blow ( a gentle tap )  on his chest. And naturally the villain falls down and remains motionless. Prem Nazir walks back gently rubbing his palms and looking to the infinity  proclaims, "Pavam chathu poyi" (poor fellow died). But on turning back Prem Nazir finds the villain struggling to stand up. He walks up to the villain and plants another gentle blow (tap) and the man is again motionless. And the final proclamation from Prem Nazir. "Paavam veendum chathu poyi".(poor fellow died again) !!!

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And my second retirement justifies the title?? (Pavam veendum retired)
I not only retired but also retired !
Ref: Wren & Martin
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SALIL RAWJI

This is another Physics lab story. But now I am a teacher at the CMS college. (Please read the two posts THE COMMON BALANCE, THE BURETTE)

I don't remember the year.  But it happened in the same week when the full length comedy movie "Ramjirao speaking" was released. I saw the film and on the next day I was in the pre-dgree Physics lab. Recall the scene where Mukesh suspects Sai Kumar of pick pocketing him. Mukesh runs after Sai Kumar, catches hold of him, overpowers him and "gets back" his purse. But walking a few paces he (Mukesh) realizes that his own purse was there safe in his pockets and the whole drama was a result of a confusion.

Now back in the Physics lab. I was with a group of students explaining some experiment. I wrote certain expressions in someone's rough book and on completing the explanations I put back my pen in my pocket and returned to my seat. Soon a boy came to me and asked me to return his pen. I told him that the pen in my pocket was mine. The boy disagreed and kept demanding the pen. You may wonder whether a pen is such a big thing. It used to be big for several reasons. Those days people used  the fountain pens which were not very cheap. And the pen in my pocket (read the pen in dispute) was a costly one. Those days parents would not take it lightly if their children said that they have lost a pen or a pencil. Unbelievable?? And to me too it was a sad thing to part with my pen. Those days a college teachers starting salary was less than Rs 1000. (How much less than 1000 I will not tell you).  Yet, seeing tears in the boy's eyes I gave him the pen.

Towards the end of the lab session the boy came to me with feline steps. I was in no mood to smile. I was really sad. The boy came closer and whispered,"Sir, my pen was there on the table. This one is yours". The

boy's name was Salil Rawji.( Later I taught his sister Sabitha Rawji too). With this incident Salil and I became good friends. I remember him joining the Cochin University for his P.G, securing a first rank there and then joining IISc for his PhD (or MTech I don't remember). And heard nothing about him after that.

Salil, if you happen to read this please write back.

THANK YOU OOMMAN

Oomman K Varghese was my student during 1989-91 for his MSc. Later he received his PhD from IIT-Delhi. From there he went to Kentucky University, Pennsylvania State University and currently he is at the Houston University. Recently there was a half-a-page writeup  in the Malayala Manorama detailing his achievements in the field of new type of solar cells. As his former teacher I felt immensely proud reading it. That day I received some 50 phone calls from students of various MSc batches asking me whether this is the same Oomman I used to talk about in their classes. (50 is a little too much. But then there is no story without a little exaggerati0n)

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For the past few months not a day had passed without heated discussions on the idiot box over the "solar issue/scam". Suddenly every politician has become an expert on solar matters. With so much of home grown experts on solar matters, I wonder why Oomman should struggle in the scorching sun in the U.S.  These stupid discussions with all kinds of masalas drove ordinary people into thinking that  anything solar is something obscene.

A month back I was visiting one of my relatives. His small little son was just back from the school. He asked his father:

"Pappa, why these leaders are so shamelessly using the word 'solar' on the TV?"

The bewildered father said:

"Why Mon? What is to be ashamed about it? Solar means something related to the sun"

And the poor boy was not convinced:

"But my friend told me that solar means #@#!:#$##"

"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

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After the article on Oomman's achievements in the Malayala Manorama I heard many people talking about solar power, solar cells etc. Let us hope that there shall be no more solar flares !

THANK YOU OOMMAN.

SINE, COS, TAN, LOG AND LOGJAM

My previous two posts were describing my nightmarish experiences in the Physics and the Chemistry labs.
This one is about my first Physics theory class at the Bishop Moore College. The lecturer took to the platform and started speaking something in English. Even before I got time to start shivering in fear and despair he drew a right-angled triangle on the board and started raining statements like "sine thetta = opposite side/hypotenuse". Thetta? My Good Heavens !! And sine thetta?? After some more jugglery with some more words I had never heard, he wrote on the board "logarithm" and started saying "log of a number is defined as ..." !! I sat like a log.
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After this Physics class I came to the conclusion that I will never pass the pre-degree course. And what next.......?? I never knew. As confusion grew into chaos a wonderful thing happened. I was sitting on the cement bench on the Mavelikkara railway platform when my senior Suresh V. Anand appeared before me like an angel. He asked me the reason for my gloom and I hesitantly told him all about the sine thetta, log and the logjam that ensued. He took a piece of paper and explained to me the whole things in less than 15 minutes. With protruding eye balls and pouting lips I asked,
"That's all"
Suresh: "Yes, that's all".
I was amazed by the clarity with which he talked. After all these years, I still wonder as to why the lecturer made the whole thing so complicated. He should have told us that "thetta" is just a Greek letter and that as "x" in algebra, in trigonometry we usually use Greek letters. (I think Suresh latter became an officer in the Federal bank. Those days smart guys preferred the bank job to any other)
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Things changed drastically and I started loving Physics once Kurien Sar (Prof K. Kurien) started teaching us Mechanics. If I was all at sea with "sine thetta" I was very much at home with "tan thetta"  when Kurien Sar wrote on the board "tan thetta = v^2 / rg . He was teaching us the "banking of curves" and it was after that class that I decided to learn only Physics and Mathematics after the pre-degree course.
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Incidentally, Kurien Sar's  younger son Vimal Kurien is on the faculty of the Commerce dept of CMS college. The boy feels shy, and happy too, when I tell him in the presence of others that I have carried him on my shoulders.
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THE BURETTE

The scare of the first day in the Physics lab lingered in my mind (please read the post “The Common Balance”).  On the second day we were herded to the chemistry lab. “Great place on earth’, I told myself. Without any introduction the teacher asked me to go to the burette. Burette??  Seeing my confusion the teacher pointed to the table. I found it very innocuous unlike the common balance. Seeing the tap I turned it gently and the next moment I had the tap in my hand detached from the main body of the burette. All hell was let loose. I was fined Rs 40 for the damage. Those days petrol cost less than Rs 2 per litre and you got 150 coconuts for Rs 40. The whole class fell into a gloom. The next day some of my class mates came up with a solution. A tutorial college was prepared to buy the broken burette for Rs 10.. Great news. We went to the H.O.D. But he refused to give the “broken” burette. His argument surprised me. He said “ suppose I give it to you and somehow it reaches the hands of the Naxalbaris!?" They will use it to make bombs and you will be in trouble !" Oh God, what I have damaged was something that can be used to make bombs.!?! After all these years I am very sure that the tap could have been put back in place and the burette could have been in use for many more years. (The astute tutorial Principal knew it well. And the H.o.D  knew it better!!??)

Those days Kerala was reeling under the threat of Naxalism. I remember this Boban and Molly story.  One morning the “Chettan” (panchayat president) sprang from his bed and started running towards the mirror on the wall. When asked why, his answer was ‘let me see whether my head is there above my neck or not’ .

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The scare of these two incidents never left me. Later when I started my career as a teacher, I used to feel  very  restless  during the lab sessions. Usually these lab sessions are a happy retreat for the teachers.  The lab was a place where I never felt at home. When students came with complaints I had to go with them and get the complaints rectified.  The potentiometer was a horrifying thing for me. Students always had problems with it. Most often they came with the complaint that they get only one-side-deflection.  While walking with them with pretended courage I used to tell in my mind, “son, you now have at least one side deflection !!”

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