No I don't mean it in the sense of the first person singular. Not that I can't - I can (I think..)
Not even in the sense of "I" as one's ego - the absence of the "I" actually.
If this is not about my abilities (as I perceive them) nor about my modesty (the lack of "I", you know), then what is it about?
I am sure everyone is aware of the war of words and more raging between two southern states in India (Tamil Nadu and Kerala - why is Kerala not Malayala Nadu? Is it because its people are comfortable in their skins as Keralites, whatever that term means? Why do we define ourselves in terms of our language and they dont? I sense an interesting line of inquiry there). At the centre of the dispute is a century-old dam across a river which starts on one side of the mountains separating the two states and runs off to the other side to disgorge its flows in the Arabian sea. The dam was built by the British colonial masters presumably to feed the tea estates owned by British companies. Here's the thing: the Brits, as is their wont took the land and the river belonging to one side and gave it to the other side, albeit on lease (a pretty long one). This is very aptly captured in a Tamil saying which doesnt translate very well into English: propitiating a roadside Ganesh idol with coconuts from a wayside shop. Unpaid for, naturally.
Having created umpteen such mischiefs, the Brits upped and left all of a sudden taking a lot of our tea with them.
The border crossing points between the states have been closed, people living in the border area have moved to the relative safety of their linguistic side, the war of words escalates and so on. We shan't send any tomatoes to the Malayalees; let them stew in their coconut milk (and a jolly good stew they make too). And when the tomatoes begin to rot, we shall have our own version of the Tomatina festival - sorry Valencians, when giants fight, the earth shakes. We could even possibly have an annual Tomatina festivals which pit Kerala teams against Tamil Nadu teams. Ideally teams should consist of state and central legislators. Refereed by Moanmohan Singh (not a typo) with Sonia as referral umpire (does he do anything without referring to her?). Yuvraj (not the cricketer, you asses; if you must ask who that is, then you've been living on the dark side of Mars a while) will throw the first tomato and then presumably withdraw to the relative safety of a dalit widow's hut in U.P.
On their part, the Malayalees will stop all coconut and coconut products crossing over to this side, bringing chaos to countless Tamil kitchens. No more cabbage poriyal made with coconut oil (the only way to make it, let it be known). No more banana chips fried in coconut oil. No more "araichu vitta sambhar" - no coconut, no a.v. sambhar. Minus the coconut, sambhar reverts to being a pedestraian kuzhambu. And no avial! That is a culinary crisis indeed, especially with Pongal round the corner in a couple of weeks. A dire future awaits us if this issue is not resolved quickly and cross-border trade in coconut resumed.
In politics, it is Tamilnadu versus Kerala, and everybody against Moanmohan. Yuvraj stays away from this area and his mum is busy taking on an eccentric old man and showering the countryside with rupee notes. JJ is protesting about everything like a 60's college student which she would have been had she not chosen to stand under a waterfall in a transparent white sari. I have a sneaky suspicion that the river involved in the wet sari episode is the disputed river which explains her strong attachment to it.
The river is called Mullaiperiyar in Tamil and Mullaperiyar in Malayalam, the difference being an "i". This is the "I" that is making all the difference.
Not even in the sense of "I" as one's ego - the absence of the "I" actually.
If this is not about my abilities (as I perceive them) nor about my modesty (the lack of "I", you know), then what is it about?
I am sure everyone is aware of the war of words and more raging between two southern states in India (Tamil Nadu and Kerala - why is Kerala not Malayala Nadu? Is it because its people are comfortable in their skins as Keralites, whatever that term means? Why do we define ourselves in terms of our language and they dont? I sense an interesting line of inquiry there). At the centre of the dispute is a century-old dam across a river which starts on one side of the mountains separating the two states and runs off to the other side to disgorge its flows in the Arabian sea. The dam was built by the British colonial masters presumably to feed the tea estates owned by British companies. Here's the thing: the Brits, as is their wont took the land and the river belonging to one side and gave it to the other side, albeit on lease (a pretty long one). This is very aptly captured in a Tamil saying which doesnt translate very well into English: propitiating a roadside Ganesh idol with coconuts from a wayside shop. Unpaid for, naturally.
Having created umpteen such mischiefs, the Brits upped and left all of a sudden taking a lot of our tea with them.
The border crossing points between the states have been closed, people living in the border area have moved to the relative safety of their linguistic side, the war of words escalates and so on. We shan't send any tomatoes to the Malayalees; let them stew in their coconut milk (and a jolly good stew they make too). And when the tomatoes begin to rot, we shall have our own version of the Tomatina festival - sorry Valencians, when giants fight, the earth shakes. We could even possibly have an annual Tomatina festivals which pit Kerala teams against Tamil Nadu teams. Ideally teams should consist of state and central legislators. Refereed by Moanmohan Singh (not a typo) with Sonia as referral umpire (does he do anything without referring to her?). Yuvraj (not the cricketer, you asses; if you must ask who that is, then you've been living on the dark side of Mars a while) will throw the first tomato and then presumably withdraw to the relative safety of a dalit widow's hut in U.P.
On their part, the Malayalees will stop all coconut and coconut products crossing over to this side, bringing chaos to countless Tamil kitchens. No more cabbage poriyal made with coconut oil (the only way to make it, let it be known). No more banana chips fried in coconut oil. No more "araichu vitta sambhar" - no coconut, no a.v. sambhar. Minus the coconut, sambhar reverts to being a pedestraian kuzhambu. And no avial! That is a culinary crisis indeed, especially with Pongal round the corner in a couple of weeks. A dire future awaits us if this issue is not resolved quickly and cross-border trade in coconut resumed.
In politics, it is Tamilnadu versus Kerala, and everybody against Moanmohan. Yuvraj stays away from this area and his mum is busy taking on an eccentric old man and showering the countryside with rupee notes. JJ is protesting about everything like a 60's college student which she would have been had she not chosen to stand under a waterfall in a transparent white sari. I have a sneaky suspicion that the river involved in the wet sari episode is the disputed river which explains her strong attachment to it.
The river is called Mullaiperiyar in Tamil and Mullaperiyar in Malayalam, the difference being an "i". This is the "I" that is making all the difference.
I don't think, therefore I am not.
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