Prof V L Antony - 4 (Concluding part)

I don't remember the year correctly. Sometime during the early 80's. One thing is sure. It should be after 1983. That was the year I bought a new Enfield Bullet-350. I remember that it was a Sunday evening. I was alone in the PG hostel, CMS college when a small announcement in the news paper caught my attention. M S Subbalakshmi will start her concert at the Maalakkara Ashramam ( some 50 km from Kottayam) in less than one hour. With not a minute to waste I started off on my Bullet. Those days there weren't any blocks or heavy traffic on the road. Yet by the time I reached the ashramam the concert had started. There was a big crowd assembled. All the seats in the huge pandal were occupied and many were standing. I joined the standing 'Rasikas' and settled down to listening. For the next three hours I even forgot that I was standing.

The next day I told Antony Sir of what happened the previous day. He didn't say a word and I even felt insulted by his disinterest shown so bluntly. But I was wrong. It was not disinterest. It was disgust. He said, "You should have told me. I may not get another chance in my life to listen to a live concert by MS". I couldn't speak anything and stood as if I had committed a crime. After some time, gathering some strength I politely told him, "Sir, hereafter we will  go together to 'Kacheries' ". And together we went to many places with Sir riding pillion.

After all these years I think I could reasonably make up for my 'crime' of not telling him about the MS concert. In fact I didn't know that Sir was so much interested in classical music. Music brought us closer and could remain so despite serious political disagreements. Once I told him of a lost cassette. It was the original recording of  a Lata Mangeshkar concert at the Royal Albert Hall, London. He felt very sad as if the cassette was his and to my surprise within a week's time he gifted me with a cassette with most of those Latha Mangeshkar songs recorded.

I made him sad once again! This was when I gave him a list of live concerts I had attended before knowing that he was a Rasika. I give the list below.

VOCAL:  M S Subbalakshmi, Semmangudi Sreenivasa Iyer, Balamurali Krishna, M D Ram.anathan, Maharajapuram Santhanam, Madurai Sheshagopalan, Neyyatinkara Vasudevan.....                                                                                                                                  VIOLIN: Lalgudi Jayaraman, M S Gopalakrishnan, T N Krishnan, M Chandrasekharan, Kunnakkudi Vaidyanathan .........                                                                                                    MRIDANGAM: Vellore Ramabhadran, Umayalpuram Sivaraman, Karakkudi Mani, T K Murthy, T V Gopalakrishnan ........                                                                                                 Later I had the good fortune of listening to N Ramani, Hariprasad Chaurasya (Both Flute,Great Hall, CMS College), Pandit Shiv Kumar Sharma (Santhoor,Mamen Mappila Hall). L Subramaniam (Violin,Malliyoor Temple) .......

I cherish so many incidents. I cherish the love and certainly the respect he gave me despite being very junior to him in the college. 

He never believed in formal expressions. Yet, I am sure, he might have said in his mind "Thank You For The Music".

Prof V L Antony - 3

 After posting two stories on Antony Sar many more keep surfacing in my mind. As I wrote in the previous post, he had a deep knowledge in Electronics. The story I write here was in fact told to me by my friend Shaju Mathew George of the Chemistry department, CMS College. Many years ago Shaju and Antony Sar were in the University of Hyderabad attending a refresher course/workshop. The participants were from all over India. One guy from Kerala frowned at the two and with contempt and arrogance writ large on his face uttered the following non sense, " you should have come in attires suiting the occasion". Perhaps for the "learned professor (LP)" it was the prestige of Malayalees that was at stake. Shaju was a little upset over his respected senior being bluntly disgraced in his presence. But Antony Sar just smiled. Even today I can imagine that disarming smile.

After the inaugural function, the classes started. One or two days passed of peacefully. On the third day or so the resource person was a senior professor from Delhi University. His plan was to introduce and if possible make the participants experts in working with a variety of electronic equipment. But to his dismay most of the participants were staggeringly ignorant of even the basics of Electricity, forget about electronics. Most of them did not know the difference between current and voltage. None could differentiate between a resistance and a capacitor. Transistors and IC's were heart breaking aliens. The DU Professor was at the verge of abandoning the classes when he saw Antony Sar (in the back row - you guessed it right!), explaining things to a fellow participant. He invited Antony Sar to the front and talked to him personally for some time(certainly that was an interview to gauge Antony Sar's depth in Electronics). The participants, including our "LP" waited with bated breath not knowing what was happening in the front. The "LP" might have even thought that Antony Sar was being reprimanded for coming to the class clad in a dhothy.

After some ten minutes of talking to Antony Sar, the DU Professor rose from his chair and made the following announcement. "This man Antony from Kerala will be our leader for the rest of the sessions. He knows much more Electronics than any of us in the Chemistry department of DU knew. His classes will start now". Yes, the classes started and Antony Sar taught Electronics to an initially unwilling group Chemistry teachers in his inimitable style. By the end of several sessions spanning several days, the participants were a happy lot. While the smart ones became experts in operating the various equipment some became fairly literate in Electronics. I am sure, back in their colleges, the teachers would have transferred the newly acquired knowledge to their students. After all this is how a knowledgeable society is formed or created.

All credit to the DU Professor also for "unearthing" Antony Sar.

Prof V L Antony - 2

                           Soon Antony Sar and I became good friends. One day he invited me to his house and I went there the next day itself. Seeing me he invited me to his study (rather work shop). But I couldn't go in as the  drawing room floor was littered with radios, TV's, VCR's and anything that had something to do with electronics. Seeing the predicament I was in, he waved his hands signaling me to come in. Finally with some acrobatics I managed to get in without hurting any of those 'electronic creatures'. Watching this Chemistry professor being so at ease with electronics, my respect for him multiplied and I decided to ask him a doubt that was haunting me since my pre-degree days. Non-mathematics people may kindly excuse as this Chemistry professor now working in electronics is about to delve into some mathematics. The following was my doubt. In Physics there is a superposition principle which states that when a medium is simultaneously disturbed by two or more than two waves there will be a resultant wave which is the algebraic sum of the individual waves. Now, here is my doubt. In an orchestra there are various musical instruments and human voice each producing its own wave and the wave that falls on your ear drum is that  single resultant wave. Yet, you can hear each sound distinctly. That is, you can differentiate between the sounds produced by ,say, the guitar and the violin. How is this possible? This was my doubt. He just smiled and told me, "it's all because our brain has the capacity to Fourier Analyse". I felt spell bound by the answer. Genesis 1-3,and God said "let there be light". It was light all over with this Fourier Analysis explanation. This incident not just cleared a decade old doubt but completely changed my approach to teaching Physics and Mathematics. I decided to not leave students with such doubts that will keep them disturbing. But this was a task easier said that done. After all, the joy of learning Physics lies in understanding the meaning of the equations. Thank you Antony Sar.                                                                                                                             

Prof V L Antony - 1

 I joined CMS College in 1981 as a junior lecturer. Stepping into the campus, almost instantly, I fell for the serene beauty of it. The fascination the campus held for me remains undiminished even after all these years. Despite coming from St: John's College,Agra, my love for the campus kept growing. One day, someone told me that there was a film show in the Chemistry department at 5.30 in the evening. I went there just out of curiosity and that evening turned out to have a profound influence on my life in CMS.

There were only four or five people to watch the film show on a 16 mm projector. Those days college teachers were well dressed and used to walk around with the look of intellectuals, strenuously created. Now a man in frugal native attire was busy arranging the projector, focusing it on the screen for greater picture clarity. For the minuscule audience the picture was reasonably clear and was eager for the show to begin. But the man working on the projector was focusing, refocusing, adjusting the angle of projection, the distance between the projector and the screen etc: as if some VIP was attending the show. After quite some time, testing the patience of the people assembled, he started giving a brief description of the film. I was perplexed for a moment. This simple man, in white dhothi and white shirt ..... unassuming..... talking in Malayalam... no airs..... yet talking with such authority? That day's film was a Chinese one on the topic of migration of birds. He even talked briefly on the subject of migration of birds. Oh, this is a classic case of 'deceptive appearance', I told myself. Yes, the multi faceted genius of Prof V L Antony was shrouded in what I described in the beginning as frugal native attire.

Very soon, Prof V L Antony became Antony Sar for me and all these years occupied a huge space in my mind. I will narrate some incidents that are etched in my mind. Most of the stories may sound very silly, but were important for me particularly during my formative years as a teacher. 

NIZY @ CMS (contd.....)

 In the previous post I started telling something and ended telling something else. Coming back to Niz's speech, let me write here the 'other two' points that caught my attention.

During the question-answer session, a student asked whether women face any discrimination at the ISRO. Nizy paused for a moment and raising the identity tag around her neck said,"once we enter our lab with this around our neck, we forget whether we are men or women". I felt a mild shock and told myself the following. "No wonder, how or why the prestigious institutions like the ISRO or BARC can do wonders for the nation".  Nizy was certainly talking about a very special work culture which I wish the students emulated. I am tempted to deviate, but I resist.

 Another question on Russia's failed Lunar project which coincided with our successful Moon Mission. The questioner was elated over Russia's failure as much as over India's success. Nizy's answer was totally unexpected, particularly at a time the when the whole nation was in a self congratulatory mood with no room for any rational thinking. I really felt proud of Nizy for talking like a professional scientist. She said, "we at the ISRO are not happy over Russia's failure. As scientists, we are instead disappointed. If they had succeeded we could have compared the huge amount of data we have collected with their's. That would have given deeper insights into many things we were exploring". Nizy certainly was talking about the ways of science where repeatability and agreement between data collected by various groups, before concluding something as the final truth. I wish the students gathered there understood this very crucial aspect of scientific pursuits. Again I am tempted to deviate, but I resist.

 

NIZY @ CMS

 (Please read the previous post NIZY MATHEW before reading this one, if you have not read it already)

Accepting the invitation from her alma mater, Nizy was in CMS college on the 12th of September. That was a time when she was too busy with the Chandrayan project. Yet she found some time for the visit. This was a big surprise for everyone in the college and the principal admitted this during his welcome speech.

The Great Hall (auditorium of CMS college) was jam packed. Students were eager to listen to Nizy, with the frenzy of the lunar landing still in the air with ever increasing intensity. By that time the ecstasy of every Indian was such that it had surpassed all realms of reality and transcended to sublime romantic levels. The students were very attentive and, at the end of Nizy's speech they freely asked her questions. Probably they felt the freedom of asking questions to their chechy (deedi).

Nizy gave a vivid description of the Chandrayan project. The students listened in awe every word she uttered. I was particularly struck by three comments she made, which I write here.

During her speech while mentioning the previous failures, she made the following statement. " At ISRO we need courageous people with indomitable determination, people with an indomitable spirit to excel and people who can endure with increased vigour in testing times or situations many might qualify as failures". At this point I told myself that this girl is speaking a sort of philosophy. Here I want to deviate a bit to make a point. During my 32 years in CMS college, I had to remain a mute spectator to a plethora of student's strikes. None of these strikes had to do anything with academics. These were simply part of larger political games. These political games and academics cannot coexist in campuses. That means there is no academics in campuses (politics is anyway there)? That may be a little exaggerated. I believe that the kind of academics in the campuses in Kerala is only at less than 20% efficiency. This is not just my opinion. This is what my students who continue in academics at good institutes in India and abroad tell me. During the function I wanted to draw Nizy's attention to this aspect but refrained as I did't want to destroy the jubilant mood of the students. After all they were celebrating a great victory of their nation and an important part played by their 'chechy'. If a student reading this is anguished he or she may know the following. Nizy and the scientists at the ISRO, are not resting on their laurels  nor are they any complacent. They may not be even congratulating each other anymore for the Chandrayan success. For them that is only an important point in their space odyssey. Of course a milestone, but only a milestone. They have miles to go and miles to go and never to sleep and dream. As the most revered Dr APJ Abdul Kalam said "Dream is not the thing you see in sleep but is that thing that doesn't let you sleep". If at least 10% of the college students in India pay heeds to the words of this great visionary, then we can confidently say  that India is on its way to becoming the greatest nation in the world. Then only.

PLEASE EXCUSE ME

I started writing this note with the sole intention of describing Nizy's visit to CMS College. But at a certain stage of writing I got a little emotional and inadvertently took a deviation, which I am not apologetic about. It certainly is high time the nation gave serious thought to the output-input ratio in our academic institutions. All institutions with less than 50% efficiency should be shut down. This may be done after giving sufficient time and warnings. If 50% is cruel, let it be 40%. Below that the whole exercise is meaningless.

I wanted to write about 3 things in Nizy's speech that touched me. Two, I postpone to some other time. Writing this much, I feel physically exhausted. This can happen to you too, if you are talking from your heart on an issue which you feel is imperative yet criminally neglected.

NIZY MATHEW

 

This year’s Onam is just over. The boozers of the state brought some relief to the empty coffers of the Kerala government by making a collective ‘contribution’ of a mind boggling seven hundred crores of rupees in less than a week’s time. This is more than the cost of the Chandrayan-3 programme by a neat 100 crores! To me, as one who never celebrates any of the festivals, this Onam too would have passed off as a sedate one, but for a very special gift I received from one of my old students. A gift I will cherish forever.

Nizy Mathew. That’s her name. She was my student during 1999 – 2001 for her PG in Applied Physics. On completion of her PG studies from the CMS College, Kottayam, she along with her class mate Sheena Solomon proceeded to Germany to do another PG in Environment Science. After that I did not hear anything from her.

On the Onam eve I had a phone call with Nizy at the other end. I felt very happy to hear her voice after some twenty two years. Even though she sounded very upbeat I had no inkling of what she was going to tell me. When I showed interest in knowing what she was doing all these years, she told me:

“Sir, I am working in Thiruvanandapuram for the past twelve years and at present I am in Bangaluru in connection with the Chandrayan Project”

Chandrayan Project? Did I hear it correctly? After a moment of disbelief, chaos in thoughts and of course ecstasy, I expressed my joy and I don’t remember what all I told her.

Nizy after her environmental studies did a PhD in Microwave Remote Sensing and was settled in Germany, with her post-doctoral research. Seeing her published papers, a senior scientist at the VSSC contacted her and told her that she can join them if she was interested. She could not ask for more. Perhaps she might not have realised at that time that she was asking for the moon!

The girl who touched the Moon  

Yes, Nizy is now the girl who touched the moon. Indeed she touched the moon surface without ‘burning her fingers’ at 50 degree Celsius. Nor did she freeze while probing the moon slightly below the surface at minus 10 degree Celsius. Yes, we can be proud of our scientists. They are made of sterner stuff.

Nizy was  the leader of the team that fabricated the equipment used for physically ‘measuring’ the temperature of the moon. She was also assigned the task of analysing the signals received after such ‘measurements’.

Nizy was upbeat over the phone. She had all the right to be so. I could gather from her conversation as to how scientists work round the clock at the ISRO. Passion, dedication, determination, endurance  greed to excel all rolled into one; that perhaps defines our scientists at the ISRO. Chemistry, Physics, Mathematics, Engineering; they have excelled in everything. They have mastered very high temperatures as well as very low temperatures. They have made 1.4 billion Indians proud. With this soft landing they have helped India crash-land on to the higher rungs in the elite list of nations with space technology at their disposal. Yes, the Rover is merrily engaged in 'Moon Walk' yet wisely avoiding those craters with deceptive looks, where no other nation ever dared to even peep into.

Nizy, after our telephonic conversation I am in a state of wild excitement, rapturous joy and my mind is in a chaotic state. I cannot concentrate even while praying. Don't blame me. I have every right to be mad! I am proud of you. Your Alma Mater is proud of you. The CMS College is yearning to receive you here at your earliest convenience. Your presence here will motivate the students to dedicate themselves to learning with an irresistible will to excel in life and be a part of the solemn duty of nation building, the way you and all the scientists at ISRO strive 24X7.

A big salute to the scientists at the ISRO. And thank you Nizy, for remembering me after all these years. Thank you Nizy, for remembering me even when you were there, ‘On The Top Of The World’.  Don’t know how to congratulate you. Words become too insufficient to express oneself in such situations. God bless you.

THE HARI SINGH HEGEMONY -- Fir Ek Agra Kahani

 

For us in the St: John’s college, Agra, the neighbouring Agra College was an enigma. The student strength during the late seventies was a whopping twelve thousand. Classes started at five in the morning. Many working men and women attended courses like LLB, M Com etc before sun rise. Also, those days, the campus was notorious for the ruffians among the students. Despite the enormity of this breed, there weren’t any law and order problems. Of the innumerable incredible stories coming out of that campus, we were particularly amused by the ones starring the legend like Hari Singh. Hari Singh was a former student of Agra College. After his formal education there he never left the campus. Every morning he would come to the college and leave only very late in the evening. He controlled those ruffians with magical effect and took upon the responsibility of maintaining calm in the campus. Even the college authorities welcomed his presence and considered him an integral part of the campus. We couldn’t believe when we were told that he even can declare a holiday for the college. Venerated and feared by one and all, he grew in stature. The Hari Singh diktats were unquestioned. Yet he never misused the unlimited power he commanded. Agra College was his passion. He worked tirelessly for the wellbeing of the college.

A Modern Day Mahatma

One day we got news that the final of the intercollegiate Basket Ball competition of the Agra University was to be played the next day between traditional rivals, Agra College and RBS college at the Agra College. My North Indian friends cautioned me against going there but I couldn’t resist the temptation of witnessing the match between two strong teams.

On reaching the stadium, I was surprised to see a large number of students wielding hockey sticks. They occupied one side of the stadium. “They might be there just after the hockey match final”, I told myself. But then, so many of them?

After occupying ‘strategic positions’, these boys started shouting provocative slogans. My friend sitting beside me told me that they are from the RBS College. Small missiles started flying into the court. The atmosphere was getting tense. As the profane slogans showed no signs of abating, a fragile figure emerged out of the crowd, walked to the center of the court with folded hands and appealed for calm. He said, “ The students of Agra College and RBS College are brothers. In a match only one team wins. Whoever is the winner, let us all accept them with sportsman spirit”. When every word was greeted with high pitched hoot, the diminutive man retreated with a sense of shame, failure and helplessness writ large on his face. With time ticking away and the situation getting worse the very same man appeared for a second time with folded hands and repeated his appeal for peace. The reply was a repeat performance from those boys who were now preparing to play basket ball with hockey sticks. The man retreated. “What else the poor man can do?”, I asked myself in desperation. After a few moments of tension, just when we were preparing to see the worst, with all hell let loose, the very same man appeared for a third time on the court. But this time he was not there with folded hands. I saw fire in his eyes. Pointing to those ’bad boys’, as if he was pointing a pistol at them, he proclaimed “Hereafter nobody will make any noise. This is Hari Singh saying”. Just two short sentences and the man disappeared into the crowd. I couldn’t believe. The fragile diminutive figure no way matched the icon in my mind: A six plus heavy weight with a heavier moustache? But I had to believe. All pandemonium instantly stopped as if it was switched off. You could hear a pin drop. Even the winter wind refused to blow. With everything including those ‘bad boys’ frozen, Hari Sing ordered the start of the event. There after we could hear only one sound. The tap tap sound of the ball hitting the ground and of course, the referee’s whistle too.

Back in my hostel, The Haileybury House, I told myself “whoever trying to bring peace is a Mahatma. Forget about the means”. An event which would have landed at least fifty students in hospital with broken skulls passed off so peacefully. Thanks to the one man army called Hari Singh. Indeed a modern day Mahatma?

Johny Johny, No Pappa!

 Recently I was at the iconic Indian Coffee House (ICH), Thirunakkara, Kottayam. I have any number of stories to tell relating to the ICH; stories of my first visit to an ICH sometime in 1975 to the latest. Every time it was the Masala Dosa and their special Coffee that I had to my satisfaction. For almost half a century the Masala Dosa tastes the same and the aroma of the coffee remains unchanged, as tempting as ever before. I can go on talking about the exciting ICH experiences over the past half-a-century. Let me restrict to the latest experience at the ICH, Thirunakkara, Kottayam.

A month ago I was there for my Masala Dosa and Coffee. The waiters there know that I like to get the coffee hot from the kitchen only after the Dosa was finished. That day as usual I was sipping the coffee after the Dosa when a man came in and occupied the chair opposite to mine. I almost rose from my seat seeing the film personality just opposite to me. It was the actor-director Johny Antony. Siting so near a celebrity in fact made me a little uncomfortable and perhaps noticing this he started talking to me like an ordinary man and tried to make me feel at ease. A minute into his jocular way of speaking non-stop, I was a little relaxed. I slowly turned around to see jealous faces staring at me for my luck, but to my dismay  could find none. I felt anguished by the insensitivity of the people and told myself that such a film personality in a public place in Tamil Nadu would have been treated differently and would have been mobbed by people for selfies and autographs. I felt pity for him and started talking to him. I told him that I have watched all of his movies starting with CID Moosa. To make him happy I made a brief analysis of his various movies and tried to shower some praise on him. Just when my strategy seemed to be working, he asked me whether I want to have a selfie with him. I could not have asked for more. I told him "very kind of you sir..., you are such a simple person...., celebrities never offer fans a chance for a selfie...., usually it's so irritating for the celebrities..". My words didn't seem to enthuse him much though that characteristic smile was there on his face all the time I was talking. After pausing for a while he told me "of all the things you said I agree with one thing... yes I am a simple person. But what can I do? Wherever I go people flock around me to take selfies thinking that I am Johny Antony and I oblige!"

I was crest fallen. Now I didn't turn around to see jealous faces as I was sure that all around it should be faces with sarcasm writ large. The only way I could have got back to life was to have another bout of Dosa and Coffee. And I did exactly that. 

The Big Game on the Big Screen and this Girl called Meera

 

December 18th,2022

The world cup football was to be played between Argentina and France. The CMS college was showing it live on the big screen.

By the time I reached the Great Hall, it was jam-packed with football-frenzy youngsters in their teens or early twenties. I was the only one with grey hair. With no chance to even enter the Great Hall, I stood dejected at the entrance when my friend Midhun condescended like a Messiah and took me to the front and managed to get a seat for me. The position of the seat was such that it provided a difficult angle to the screen. Seeing this, a girl seated next to me offered to exchange her seat with mine which provided a better angle. I thankfully declined her offer as she too had come there to watch the match. I could sense the care the girl was trying to provide me. When a seat next to her became vacant instead herself moving to that better position she forced me to move in and I obliged. To reciprocate her loving care to a stranger like me I asked who she was. To my surprise she told me that she was a 2^nd year BSc student of Physics in CMS I was even more surprised as she had given me all that care without realising that I had one taught in her department. Meera. That was her name.

Forty years from now, Meera, then only in her fifties,would be watching the world cup football on what screen, with what technology, God alone knows.

If Meera reads this post now, I am sure she will remember me then; yes forty years from now.

Time, Technology and some memories

 

This is a story from 1984. The Olympics that year was at Los Angeles, USA. Then with no TV we had no means to watch the greatest event on the globe. The Indian hockey team had won gold at the 1980 Moscow Olympics. I still remember the picture in newspapers of the captain V Bhaskaran and his men in jubilation. After four decades India has not won the gold again in men’s hockey. Even the gold at Moscow was from a depleted field with the US and its allies boycotting the event at the height of the cold war.

The event was still in progress and one day the local administration made an announcement that the event will be shown live on a TV set installed at the Thirunakkara Maidanam. The sports lovers of Kottayam could not ask for more. On the day of the hockey match between India and Germany, I and Kuruppachan (C Sreekanta Kurup), then in our twenties reached the maidanam well before the start of the game expecting a big crowd. But there were only very few people, may be less than ten, to watch the match that ended in a goal less draw. After the match was over, two men, in their late seventies came to us and told us that they have been here some forty years before to listen to the radio broadcast for the first time!

Another forty years elapsed. On the 18^th December, 2022, I watched the Football world cup finals on the big screen inside the great hall, CMS college.

In 1940’s those two men listened to the radio broadcast at the Thirunakkara Maidanam. At the very same venue I and Kuruppachan watched the Olympics on the TV on the 6^th august, 1984. Almost forty years later I watched my favourite team Argentina winning and Messi kissing the coveted trophy on the big screen.

Forty years from now, who knows what the technology will be. One thing we can say with certainty is that technology never stops, it keeps galloping and we have to, keep pace with it.

Am an Argentina fan

 

During the early seventies I was a reader of the German magazine “The German News”. An uncle of mine was a regular subscriber to it. It was through this magazine I first heard about Willy Brandt who was a socialist leader and also the Chancellor of Germany. Reading more and more about him I became a fan of his. I became a fan of two more Germans. They were the great football players named Gerd Muller and Franz Beckenbauer. Both were big names in international football and Beckenbauer had the nick name 'Der Kaiser' meaning 'the emperor'.  Then I was a fan of the Dutch footballer, the handsome Johan Cruyff. He was a great proponent of the then new style called the 'Total Football'. I felt very sad when I read of his passing away in 2016. I had the same sense of loss when I read in news papers that the Brazilian player Socrates was no more. He was a medical doctor, in fact a paediatrician. Unfortunately both while being among the all time greats were heavy smokers. That’s another story.

Till the 1978 world cup I was not a fan or supporter of any country.  Television was yet to arrive. The radio didn’t give much information regarding the world cup.  As far as I remember (not very clear), those days I got sports news from two sports magazines, “The Sports Star” and the “Sports World”. The editor of Sports World was the great Manzoor Ali Khan Pataudi. Both magazines carried beautiful pictures of sports persons in action. During the 1978 world cup I became a fan of the flamboyant Mario Kempes and Argentina too. I think their jersey held some sort of a romantic fascination for me. That simple design of broad light blue stripes is an iconic one for me. From Mario Kempes to De Maria, from Maradona to Messi .......

Yes I am an Argentina fan.

Alma Mater, Alumni and some musings - 3

 

After reading my previous two posts some people told me that they sensed something  disturbing. They wanted to know the reason if I am really disturbed. Indeed, I am, after this year’s alumni meet on the 26^th of January.

VIDYA SOUHRUDHAM

Vidya Souhrudham. That’s the name of the Alumni Association of the CMS college. But this year it all started with no vidya and scant souhrudham. It is customary to have the  business meeting before the inaugural function where the new office bearers are selected.  Since I was never interested in these meetings, as usual, I remained outside the Great Hall. Meeting old students, who come there as “old students and old students  alone” with their minds filled with reverence for their Alma mater and love for their teachers and friends, is always a matter of great joy. While roaming around the campus I ran into a group which was in a jubilant mood, yet their language was very aggressive and slightly abusive. I could quickly understand that they were giving  vent to their anger against the “autocratic” and “audacious” principal who tried to bring the Vidya Souhrudham under the control of the college. Their jubilance was over the disruption of the meeting and the hurdles they could put before principal. They were bragging,how with number in their favour they could do this. This is a grey side of democracy, I told myself. Here heads don’t count, only headcounts count. Isn’t that grey matter doesn’t count a grey side of democracy? Some of the ordinary people like me there started asking among themselves; what is wrong in the association being under the college. Some of them narrated their experiences with other colleges where they were once students. They all were unanimous in their resolve that CMS is the only place where they can step into with a sense of belonging, remain there meeting teachers and friends, enjoy the unmatched beauty of the campus and leave with a greater sense of belonging and a pious aspiration to come back again and again.

A powerful group had come well prepared, with mustered headcounts, to spoil the business meeting. They emerged victorious as it always happens in CMS college and in CMS college alone. For over the past four decades I have remained a mute spectator to many a group hijacking the college and its activities. This time another aggressive group could successfully hijack another programme. This is the latest and can be the last if the college administration is resolute in freeing the college from evil forces.

I have often heard people saying that unlike other colleges CMS is different and it belongs to all. All who come here, all who roam here, all who booze here and have to be lifted away? I would ask these people to pause for a moment, shed their prejudices and ponder for a moment over what they have given back to their Alma mater to make inflated claims.The principal Dr Varghese C Joshua “after getting defeated and had to flee from the business meet” (this was what the jubilant group, I mentioned in the beginning of this note, was claiming) made a very powerful yet emotional speech during the inaugural function. He spoke of how the Alma mater is uniquely  important to its alumni. He enumerated how the alumni can support the institution and how important it is for the alumni to understand its romantic, spiritual and intellectual duties. May I advise you to watch the speech on the YouTube.

While being critical of those who came with malicious intents and drummed up support, I think I should thankfully mention the names of three alumni who have been working for years now, without any publicity. Their hard work never gets acknowledged as they always remain behind the scenes. Theirs certainly is a devotion to the college. I want to write their names here. Abu, Kiran and Roshia.

Alma mater, Alumni and some musings - 2

 

This is a sequel to my previous post “Alma mater, Alumni and some musings – 1”. Therefore anyone reading this post may please read the first part first. In this note I want to be less romantic and more realistic or pragmatic but I am sure that I am bound to fail in this endeavour. Yet let me try.

Technically speaking an alumnus is a former student of an educational institution. Again speaking technically, students after completing their studies receive their transfer certificates (TC) and are out from where they once belonged to. Now, technically and legally they have absolutely no right or business to interfere in anything related to the institution. If ever the institution loves or welcomes them back with honour and dignity, it is certainly out of its magnanimity and at a lesser level, generosity too. Though this is right technically, humans are not machines or robots. Certainly there is something called the umbilical cord relation. The cord becomes a non-physical entity along with receiving the TC. One cannot say that whatever is non-physical does not exist and it’s all an illusion. But then, aren’t such illusions the most beautiful things in one’s life? Indeed they are, I believe. So the umbilical cord and the romanticism or the beautiful philosophy associated with it is indeed real. With no doubt about this anymore, let me delve into some of the realities, temporarily abandoning all those subtle dimensions involved in the issue.

I have heard many people talking very emotionally of their Alma mater. But I have seen few doing anything substantial when it comes to helping the very same Alma mater.  The Alma mater needs no alms. It’s all about giving back. Giving back to the school or college that shaped one’s life. Well, most often all those sermons on the mount stop here. Now why should I talk about this “giving back”? It’s just to make it very explicit that the alumni have a solemn duty to support, ie, give back. Any talk or deed without this realisation is meaningless.

Rakesh Gangwal is the co founder of the IndiGo airlines and an alumnus of IIT-Kanpur. Last week he donated a mind-boggling  Rs 1000000000/- (One Hundred Crores) to his Alma mater. Prof ECG Sudarshan, the great Physicist is an alumnus of CMS college. In1986 he donated two computers (Work Horse II, HCL) to the college. No college in Kerala had a computer then. This donation , over the years, changed the life of many a student and the history of their families. In the same year, Prof Sudarshan made an even greater donation. He donated a huge collection of Physics books to the CMS College. These books were the personal collections of Prof Sudarshan and his teacher Prof Marshak. What greater contribution should an alumnus make.

When I describe the donations by Prof Sudarshan, it may give a wrong impression that any donation has to be in such material/monetary form. Far from that.  Wherever Prof Sudarshan went he was a great ambassador of CMS College. Even while speaking at the greatest centres of learning around the world, he talked about two of his teachers with great reverence. The two teachers were Prof George M Thomas of the Physics department and Prof P A Eapen of the Mathematics department of the CMS college. He kept telling everyone how these two teacher motivated him and shaped his future. (I am witness to the great Physicist doing the “shastanganamaskkaram” before these gurus. When he did this he was 75 and the gurus were in their nineties!). I have narrated this to make clear what “Giving Back’ means and how Prof Sudarshan considered himself small before his Alma mater and his revered teachers. Yes, ECG Sudarshan, one of the greatest names in Physics considered himself infinitely indebted to his Alma mater.

On flip side of this there are alumni who think that the CMS college exists because of them. Needless to say that there cannot be a more stupid notion. My only prayer is the following. Let even” those who come to scoff”, fight, defeat and conquer with profane intentions “remain to pray”, support, love uninhibited and praise the college wherever they go.

Let everyone know that this is a pious place. This is a place blessed by God. This is a place where future is born. This is a place where love is showered upon all without any sort of discrimination. This is a place where from the noble ideals of equality emanated at a time when all kinds of inequalities and associated cruelties existed in the society. This is a place where emancipation from bondage of sorts took its first roots two centuries ago. (Can you believe that a slave market where humans where traded like livestock existed very near to the present Kottayam town?)

Let me invoke the words of Amir Khusrau portraying the enchanting beauty of Kashmir:

  "Agar firdaus bar roo-e zameen ast,

Hameen ast-o hameen ast-o hameen ast"

which means,

If there is a paradise on earth,

It's here, it's here.

Yes, I admit that there is an element of exaggeration in adopting these words as such for CMS college. But then, would anything lesser suffice? I doubt.

Alma mater, alumni and some musings - 1

 

Alma mater is a school, college or university that one has attended or from which one has graduated. Alumni is the plural noun for a group of graduates. Both are descriptions from the dictionary. These words have a much deeper, romantic and even spiritual meaning than what the dictionary says. It goes without saying that this group will be most happy when their rendezvous is their Alma mater. The CMS college celebrates the old students' meet on the 26^th of January every year with the enthusiasm of the old students once again back in the campus, soaring sky high. The function used to start in the evening and the aesthetically illuminated campus was a delight to watch. I am sure that no other campus in Kerala can match this unique elegance. Almost every year there used to be a “Ganamela” led by  Mr Prem Prakash, film producer and actor. I remember the “Pyaar Ka Nagma” duet by him and his highly talented daughter Thankam, which mesmerised the audience. Programmes like this transcended the alumni to nostalgic spots back in space and time. But these days, there are some dark areas in this otherwise beautifully lit campus.

The small playground opposite to the principal’s bungalow serves as the parking place for vehicles and is often poorly lit. But in the sedate moonlight the place is the ideal romantic place for people to assemble on an occasion like this and share old memories. People who were students here during different years forms different groups and “naturally” transforms to “high-spirited” ones. A few years back on such an occasion every parked car was acting like a mini bar. Even in their inebriation they posed no problem to the function probably because of their love for the college. Yet there were many who wondered whether this should happen in the campus. When Prof Korah Mani became the principal he changed the timing of this function from evening to morning. I still remember a very bold statement he made then. “I will not allow this college founded by committed, selfless missionaries with great vision to be converted into a tippler’s haven.

In 2005, I along with my family was in my Alma mater, the St: John’s college Agra. My wife and children were surprised to see me kneeling at the steps of the Physics department and removing my shoes before entering the place to which I owe my life, the place where I met Ghose Sir and Ram Sir who changed my entire concepts of learning and teaching Physics. The place cannot but be so sacrosanct to me.

As I don’t have the eloquence to portray my feelings as to what an Alma mater should be to its alumni, may I invoke the words of the greatest of the children of CMS, the former president of India, Shri K R Narayanan. During one of his visits to the college he made the following statement, “ every visit to the CMS college is a pilgrimage to me”. Isn’t this the ultimate statement regarding one’s love or bhakthi for one’s alma mater? Isn’t it a sin to go against the divine spirit of this ultimate statement and also against the soul embedded in those three magical letters, CMS?

Cruel Inaction

 

Some twenty five years ago a student travelling by a private bus in Kottayam fell off the bus suffering fatal injuries.  People were very sad reading the tragic news. As usual the news papers were full of discussions, allegations, counter arguments etc. After a week or so, my son, then a small school boy ran to me with that day’s news paper in his hand. He was very happy and told me that such accidents will not be repeated as the government has made it compulsory for buses to have doors that can be closed and opened. I was not any enthused as I was sure that things will be as usual after a month or so. But I was really surprised to see buses fitted with doors within the time allotted to them by the government. So finally the government is acting with an iron hand, I thought. Things went well for a month or so. Suddenly the bus-operators invented a new method to overcome the ‘brutality’ of the government. They all heeded to the government’s instruction by fitting doors.  The government had not asked them to keep the door closed while the bus was moving. They kept the door always open by tying it to the body of the bus, and as usual the government did not see this for long until, I think, the court intervened.

I thought of this when the food inspectors all over the state have suddenly sprung into action after some fatal food poisoning incidents. They pulled the shutters down on innumerable restaurants all over the state. They suddenly pulled out hundreds of kilograms of decayed chicken from the freezers. They, in their new found enthusiasm, found that the food served in many restaurants were not fit for consumption.  Kudos for the bravado of the duty bound food inspectors. But where were they when rotten food was pushed down the throat of hapless unsuspecting  consumers. Aren’t they answerable for their inaction? The news papers carry stories of the pyrotechnics by the food inspectors. But this time my son did not run to me with the news paper, because now he not a boy but a man in his early thirties.

SPEECHLESS

 We are speechless when Dr Sashi Tharoor speaks. Yesterday I remained speechless in the Great Hall, CMS College, all the while Tharoor was speaking. He was delivering the inaugural lecture of the "Bishop M C Mani Foundation". I need not make any comment on a speech by Tharoor. Like anyone in the audience I too was delighted  listening to him and seeing him too from such close quarters. The well attended function went off very well. The 'tornado' left and the campus almost instantly settled down to its serene, soothing romantic self.

The principal Dr Varghese C Joshua had invited me to his bungalow for coffee after the programme. I was walking alone towards the bungalow when two ladies joined me. One was my friend Dr Reenu Jacob, the Vice-Principal and she introduced to me the other as Dr Jeena who is with the dept of communicative English. Reenu also told me that Jeena was the compere of the programme. I expressed my sincere appreciation for her sterling performance during the function. Things would have ended there. But my mind kept telling me that this lady is no ordinary, she has some real talent shrouded. Talents often speak through the eyes. I was very sure, but how can I ask her, who was a total stranger to me till a short while ago. At this moment of confusion Reenu, almost out of the blue, said, "Sir she is a highly talented person. She is a dancer, a researcher and she has produced documentaries etc. I felt happy for two reasons. First, my intuition was true. Then, I feel happy talking to talented people even as I myself am not one. See, listening to talented people, in fact, you are listening to ideas. During our talk she wanted my opinion of Tharoor's speech. For two reasons I was reluctant to answer her. One how can I comment on a Tharoor speech? The second was more inhibiting. Yet I told her the following. "I should not be mistaken. Most often I do not get anything new from the speeches I listen to. Yet I religiously attend speeches by people like Tharoor for a certain reason. I may have some opinion regarding a certain issue in my mind but I may not be able to conclude that my beliefs are right. When people like Tharoor too have the same opinion I can feel assured of the correctness of my thinking. This is no mean thing".

The three of us talked for half an hour. It was very interesting and a little enriching too.

Note: Listening to Tharoor I felt happy when I found that some of my ideas were in agreement with his. One was regarding the government's decision to allow foreign universities to have campuses in India. Another was regarding training students to acquire a certain skill with total disconnect with the rest of the world. I think I will write about these in another post.

Prof G M Ram

 

It is over a year since Ram Sir left this world for his heavenly abode. Many a time, I thought of posting an obituary on my blog, but could not. I felt like being held back by some inexplicable force. It took me several months before I could find a convincing reason for this strange state of mind. The simple reason was that my mind could not accept that Ram Sir was no more. Now after a year, getting over the shock and grief I felt no relevance for an obituary. But I changed my mind after I received a phone call from a girl I taught almost four decades ago. She told me that she had always tried to remind herself of a piece of advice I had given her when she started her teaching career. I was a little surprised as I was too young then to advise someone. Then she told me that this was the advice I received from Ram Sir when I started my career as a teacher. It was at this point that I decided to write this note.

1977 - That was the year I joined St John’s College, Agra as a PG student of Physics. Even before the first class I had felt demolished. All my pride as a Kerala youth simply vanished at the sight of the college, a huge imposing structure in red stone, indeed an architectural marvel.

Our first class. Ram Sir stepped into the room with his characteristic majesty. After a brief speech, he started the class. The topic was Mathematical Physics. I was surprised by a totally new style of teaching. I felt mesmerised by the ease with which he went from Mathematics to Physics and returned. That was the first time I realised the link between Physics and Mathematics. How the two were blended was a real eye opener.  And to top it all, he spoke beautiful and fluent English which was a treat by itself.

I left St John’s in 1979 after my PG and joined the CMS college in 1981 as a junior lecturer in Physics. I wrote a letter to Ram Sir informing him of this and never expected a reply from him. Those days it took a minimum of eight days to get a reply from Agra. To my surprise, I got a letter from Ram Sir on the eighth day. I still remember my hands shivering while opening the letter. He congratulated me, thanked God and closed the letter with the following sentence; “Any job done well is a reward in itself”.

In 1984, I was back in Agra for my M.Phil at the Agra University. By then Ram Sir had become the principal of St John’s college. I went to the principal’s bungalow to meet him. The description of the palatial building will need an exclusive essay which I don’t attempt here. I was received like a special guest and after talking for about an hour he told me that I should come back there in the evening for dinner with him and his family. With folded hands I told him “Sir, this invitation itself is a great honour for me. But I should be excused for not accepting this invitation. Sitting beside you in this palace for dinner, food will not go down my throat”. He laughed loudly and said “OK, OK”.

In 2005, I was again in Agra with my family. By then Ram Sir had retired from St John's college and was at the CNI Diocesan office most of the time. I went to the office and at the reception I was told that Sir was in a meeting with the Bishop. I waited for half an hour and gave a note to the receptionist and requested her to hand it over to Ram Sir. I just wrote “Rajan K. John,  1977-79 M.Sc Physics”. Sir came out in five minutes. Seeing him I ran up to him and said “Sir, I will not take more than two minutes. I have to catch the afternoon train to Kerala, that’s why I sent in that note”.  He sat beside me in the lounge and talked about many things, mostly related to the college. After some twenty minutes, I politely told him, “Sir, you were in a meeting with the Bishop and I have taken too much of your time”. With his characteristic smile, he said “The Bishop can wait”. I was shocked by the answer. Even today that answer remains an enigma. Perhaps there is a great message in that answer that the teacher is for the student. Anything or anyone comes only after that.

In 2017, I was again in Agra with my daughter Anna. Another one of my teachers, Prof. J. K. Sharma Sir  (A word about Sharma Sir. He passed MSc at the tender age of 19 and started teaching  at the  St John’s college. His students then were two or three years older than him.  Later he did his PhD from IIT Kanpur.) took us to Ram Sir’s house. He was very happy to see us. I touched his feet and sat beside him. Nearing ninety he was physically weak, but talked to us enthusiastically for over an hour. Sharma Sir encouraged him to talk about his student days at the Harvard University. He had a sharp memory and gave a vivid description of those times. He very clearly described places and incidents from around sixty five years back in time. Anna could not believe when he said that it took two months to reach the US from India by ship in those days. All of us had a very good time. After quite some unforgettable moments, we reluctantly rose to take leave of him. First Sharma Sir touched his feet. Then Anna touched his feet. Finally I moved forward but instead of touching his feet, in a flash, I said “Sir, I feel like hugging you”. He laughed aloud and said, “You do whatever you want to do”. I hugged him. The tall man he was, he hugged me too and I could hear him whisper “God bless you”. That was the last I heard from him. While leaving, I was sure that I would not meet him again. Yet when he left, it was the end of a world for me, a world in my thoughts so dominated by Ram Sir.

THE USTHAD OF MNEMONICS

 

Students often use convenient tricks to remember what they learn. These are known a mnemonics. There are universally accepted mnemonics like “BB ROY of GREAT BRITAIN has a VERY GOOD WIFE” which students use in Electricity / Electronics. Unlike these there are locally developed ones also. Also there are smart students who develop such tricks for themselves. We had such a smart boy in our school.

                                   

As a teacher I know how the examiner’s job has transformed over the years. Suppose there is a question, “who is the author of Veena Poovu?”. The examiner will have to give full marks even if the student writes “Komaran Aasaan”. The argument is that the student knows it is Aasaan. We should be testing the student’s knowledge and not their ignorance. Similarly G Sankara Kurup can easily be G Sukumara Kurup! If two stanzas of Veena Poovu are asked to be written, even a remote resemblance with the original would suffice. No problem. No problem at all.

But alas, during our times these were big problems. During our times the “Veena Poovu” should be there in original form with all the punctuations in place. It is here that our R Radhakrishnan Nair emerged as a saviour. He never hesitated in sharing the tricks he invented with his friends. A philanthropist indeed. He used to remember punctuations in the following way. “ Kuthu, comma, kuthu comma, double kuthu, double coma, vara kuthu, chodyam” It went like this. What he meant were respectively full stop, comma, semi colon, colon, inverted commas, exclamation and question marks. I want to put several varakkuthus here. “HOWZZAT?”. Wait a minute before saying, clean bowled. The master piece is yet to come. Once after a mathematics class he appeared very depressed. He could not get a mnemonic for LCM (Least Common Multiple). He remained depressed for a day or two. I advised him to remember the full form as such, that not being a big thing. He could not heed to my advice as he felt his prestige was at stake. The next day he came running to me shouting “Kittiyeda” (In Greek Kittiyeda means Eureka). The proud Archemedis told me, LCM means “Lalitha Cherian’s Mother”. I remained breathless. This boy was an usthad of mnemonics indeed.

*Lalitha Cherian was our class mate.

AMBADY

 

Sometime during the mid-seventies a young man called Raju Varghese from Kottayam reached Thekkady and entered a plot of land he had bought earlier. The place had a deserted look with no dwellings in sight. The man stood there in meditation  for a while and left. A few days later he returned to the place, this time a carpenter accompanying him. On a third similar visit the accompanying carpenter had his tool box with him but Raju was empty handed. Yes dear, ideas are not carried in suit cases. This young man’s head was full of aesthetic ideas. I refuse to call them business ideas. Not many at that time thought that Raju was there to script history. When Raju announced his intention of constructing a resort there, many termed it audacious. People cannot be blamed. Fifty years ago Thekkady was not a big tourist destination. But Raju was undeterred. He had decided. At that time only a visionary could have thought of the prospects of a resort at Thekkady. Fifty years down the line, we all agree that Raju was a visionary far ahead of his times.

Raju slowly transferred his ideas to the carpenter and he in turn gave them beautiful  expressions in wood. The duo was not in any hurry. But the two were uncompromising on one thing; that the out of the world ideas never lost their charm while getting shapes in wood. Yes, Ambady was being carved out of a man’s ideas and imaginations. The slim local population started appreciating Raju. Slowly Raju entered their hearts and became Rajuchayan, their darling. A few among them saw him as a God sent to transform their place. Finally Ambady came into being and started commercial operations in 1982. I am sceptical of myself using the term ‘commercial’ because Ambady never became a commercial venture. If I say that Ambady ‘is a home away from your home’, it is too clichéd but that is the truth. I have lost count of the number of times I have stayed at Ambady during the past forty years. The old saying ‘familiarity breeds contempt’ completely loses its meaning here. When life becomes a little fast or when there are tensions of  routine life, I take a break and flee to Ambady with my family, stay there for a day or two. Many are surprised as we seldom go out of our room during this stay. We enjoy every moment of an idle life inside the room talking, watching TV and sleeping. Yes, even inside the room you feel the unique ambience of Ambady. Many people wonder what kind of a tour is this. I tell them that this is not a tour for me ( though there is plenty of scope for that too). To me it’s a retreat into the sweet, quiet, peace, tranquil, sublime environment so unique to Ambady. A day or two here apparently doing nothing recharges me. It lifts my spirits. Every time I leave Ambady after a happy day or two, I leave with one new reason to come back at the earliest.

Ambady has never changed its fundamental character. The fact is that it cannot. It might have grown physically but the soul remains undisturbed. It has to. With no vanity in the air, this is the ideal place for the romantic. Yes, Ambady cannot change. A pure and strong idea so close to the nature cannot change. Rajuchayan’s idea alone was there in the beginning. It was pure, strong, beautiful, romantic and sublime. Such an idea never dies. It grows on its own strength of uniqueness.

Rajuchayan is no more. His son Tinku carries forward the Ambady tradition with elan. Recently Tinku and his wife Priya started a new restaurant in the Kumily town, a kilometre away from Ambadi. The name of the new venture is puzzling. 10.25 (Ten Twentyfive)! The inquisitive may read the Bible, 1 Corinthians, chapter 10, verse 25.

So dear, let your next holiday destination be Ambady. You will fall in love with the place. Take it from me.