Archivi categoria: Malayalam

Malayalam è la mia lingua madre. Tutti i messaggi di questa categoria sono di interesse per coloro che la parlano. Alcuni possono anche essere in Malayalam.

Retirement — a Wife’s View

In connection with my recent retirement, my wife sent me an article (a speech given by someone on how to retire happily) which made several interesting points. But even more interestingly, it started with a funny story. Here it is:

In a small village in Kerala, a devout christian passed away. The local priest was out of station, and a priest from an adjoining village was called upon to deliver the eulogy. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” began the venerable pastor with the coffin before him. “Here lies dead before me a rare human being of this village with outstanding qualities. He was a gentleman, a scholar, sweet of tongue, gentle of temper and very catholic in outlook. He was generous to a fault and ever smiling.” The widow of the deceased sprang up and screamed, “Oh my God! They are burying the wrong man!"

True to form, this gentleman concluded his speech with another story.

First God created the cow and said, “You must go with the farmer everyday to the field, and suffer under the sun all day long, have calves, give milk and help the farmer. I give you a span of sixty years.” The cow said, “That’s surely tough. Give me only twenty years. I give back forty years.”

On Day Two, God created the dog and said, “Sit by the door of your house and bark at strangers. I give you a span of twenty years.” The dog said, “Too long a life for barking. I give up ten years.”

On the third day, God created the monkey and said to him, “Entertain people. Make them laugh. I give you twenty years.” The monkey said to God, “How boring! Monkey tricks for twenty years? Give me only ten years.” The Lord agreed.

On the fourth day, God created Man. He said to him, “Eat, sleep, play, enjoy and do nothing. I will give you twenty years.”

Man said, “Only twenty years? No way! I will take my twenty, but give me the forty the cow gave back, the ten that the monkey returned, and the ten the dog surrendered. That makes it eighty. Bene?” God agreed.

That is why for the first twenty years we sleep, play, enjoy and do nothing.
For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family.
For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain our grandchildren.
And for the last ten years we sit in front of the house and bark at everybody.

Bene, I managed to cut down my forty cow-years to a mere twenty. Here’s hoping that I will get similar discounts on my monkey and dog years!


Prima di lasciare l'India alla fine degli anni Ottanta, Potrei parlare un po 'di Hindi come la mia terza lingua. Inglese era la seconda lingua, e Malayalam la mia lingua madre. Non ero fluente in Hindi con uno sforzo d'immaginazione, ma ho potuto parlare abbastanza bene per sbarazzarsi di un venditore porta a porta, per esempio.

Questo è esattamente ciò che mio padre (una conferma Hindi-phobe) mi ha chiesto di fare durante una delle mie visite a casa quando un persistente, Hindi lingua sari venditore aleggiava sulla nostra veranda. Ormai, Avevo trascorso più di sei anni negli Stati Uniti (e considerato il mio inglese molto buono) e un paio di anni in Francia (sufficiente sapere che “molto bene l'inglese” era un grosso problema). Quindi, per sbarazzarsi del sari-wala, Ho iniziato a parlare con lui in Hindi, e la cosa più strana è accaduto — era tutto Francese che veniva fuori. Non la mia lingua madre, Non la mia seconda o terza lingua, ma French! In breve, c'era molto confuso commesso sari roaming per le strade di quel giorno.

Vero, vi è una certa somiglianza tra Hindi e francese, per esempio, nei suoni delle parole interrogative, e le stupide generi maschile-femminile di oggetti neutrali. Ma non penso che era quello che stava causando l'effusione francesità. Mi sentivo come se francese aveva sostituito Hindi nel mio cervello. Cellule cerebrali Qualunque miei che sono stati cablati fino a parlare Hindi (male, Potrei aggiungere) venivano riavvolto a la franciaise! Alcuni strano meccanismo di allocazione delle risorse è stata riciclaggio mie cellule cerebrali a mia insaputa o consenso. Penso che questa invasione francese nel mio cervello ha continuato senza sosta e assimilato un pezzo delle mie cellule inglesi pure. Il risultato finale è stato che il mio inglese ottenuto tutto incasinato, e il mio francese non ha mai avuto abbastanza buono. Mi sento un po 'dispiaciuto per i miei cellule cerebrali confusi. Karma, Credo — Non avrei dovuto confondere il venditore sari.

Sebbene parlato per scherzo, Penso che quello che ho detto è vero — le lingue che si parlano occupano sezioni distinte del cervello. Un mio amico è una ragazza franco-americana dagli anni universitari. Non ha accento distinguibile nella sua Americanese. Una volta venne a trovarmi in Francia, e ho scoperto che ogni volta che ha usato una parola inglese mentre si parla francese, aveva un accento francese distinto. Era come se le parole inglesi uscirono della sezione francese del suo cervello.

Naturalmente, lingue possono essere uno strumento nelle mani della creatività. My officemate in Francia è stato un tizio inglese astuto che sempre rifiutato di imparare qualsiasi Francese a tutti, e resistito attivamente segni di assimilazione francese. Non ha mai pronunciato una parola francese se poteva farne a meno. Ma allora, un'estate, due stagisti inglesi presentarono. Il mio officemate è stato chiesto di mentore loro. Quando queste due ragazze sono venuti al nostro ufficio per incontrarlo, questo ragazzo improvvisamente bilingue e ha cominciato a dire qualcosa come, “Cosa facciamo qui.. Oh, scusa, Dimenticavo che tu non parla francese!”

Another Pen Story of Tough Love

Once a favorite uncle of mine gave me a pen. This uncle was a soldier in the Indian Army at that time. Soldiers used to come home for a couple of months every year or so, and give gifts to everybody in the extended family. There was a sense of entitlement about the whole thing, and it never occurred to the gift takers that they could perhaps give something back as well. During the past couple of decades, things changed. The gift takers would flock around the rich “Gulf Malayalees” (Keralite migrant workers in the Middle-East) thereby severely diminishing the social standing of the poor soldiers.

Comunque, this pen that I got from my uncle was a handsome matte-gold specimen of a brand called Crest, possibly smuggled over the Chinese border at the foothills of the Himalayas and procured by my uncle. I was pretty proud of this prized possession of mine, as I guess I have been of all my possessions in later years. But the pen didn’t last that long — it got stolen by an older boy with whom I had to share a desk during a test in the summer of 1977.

I was devastated by the loss. More than that, I was terrified of letting my mother know for I knew that she wasn’t going to take kindly to it. I guess I should have been more careful and kept the pen on my person at all times. Certo, basta, my mom was livid with anger at the loss of this gift from her brother. A proponent of tough love, she told me to go find the pen, and not to return without it. Ora, that was a dangerous move. What my mom didn’t appreciate was that I took most directives literally. I still do. It was already late in the evening when I set out on my hopeless errant, and it was unlikely that I would have returned at all since I wasn’t supposed to, not without the pen.

My dad got home a couple of hours later, and was shocked at the turn of events. He certainly didn’t believe in tough love, far from it. Or perhaps he had a sense of my literal disposition, having been a victim of it earlier. Comunque, he came looking for me and found me wandering aimlessly around my locked up school some ten kilometer from home.

Parenting is a balancing act. You have to exercise tough love, lest your child should not be prepared for the harsh world later on in life. You have to show love and affection as well so that your child may feel emotionally secure. You have to provide for your your child without being overindulgent, or you would end up spoiling them. You have to give them freedom and space to grow, but you shouldn’t become detached and uncaring. Tuning your behavior to the right pitch on so many dimensions is what makes parenting a difficult art to master. What makes it really scary is the fact that you get only one shot at it. If you get it wrong, the ripples of your errors may last a lot longer than you can imagine. Once when I got upset with him, my son (far wiser than his six years then) told me that I had to be careful, for he would be treating his children the way I treated him. Ma allora, we already know this, don’t we?

My mother did prepare me for an unforgiving real world, and my father nurtured enough kindness in me. The combination is perhaps not too bad. But we all would like to do better than our parents. Nel mio caso, I use a simple trick to modulate my behavior to and treatment of my children. I try to picture myself at the receiving end of the said treatment. If I should feel uncared for or unfairly treated, the behavior needs fine-tuning.

This trick does not work all the time because it usually comes after the fact. We first act in response to a situation, before we have time to do a rational cost benefit analysis. There must be another way of doing it right. May be it is just a question of developing a lot of patience and kindness. Sai, there are times when I wish I could ask my father.

A Parker Pen from Singapore

During the early part of the last century, there was significant migration of Chinese and Indians to Singapore. Most of the migrants of Indian origin were ethnic Tamils, which is why Tamil is an official language here. But some came from my Malayalam-speaking native land of Kerala. Among them was Natarajan who, fifty years later, would share with me his impressions of Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose and the Indian National Army of the forties. Natarajan would, ormai, be called the Singapore Grandpa (Singapore Appuppa), and teach me yoga, explaining the mystical aspects of it a bit, saying things like, “A practitioner of yoga, even when he is in a crowd, is not quite a part of it.” I remembered this statement when a friend of mine at work commented that I walked untouched (kind of like Tim Robbins in the Shawshank Redemption) by the corporate hustle and bustle, che, naturalmente, may have been a polite way of calling me lazy.

Comunque, the Singapore Grandpa (a cousin to my paternal grandfather) was quite fond of my father, who was among the first University graduates from that part of Kerala. He got him a Parker pen from Singapore as a graduation gift. Some fifteen years later, this pen would teach me a lesson that is still not fully learned four decades on.

My father was very proud of his pen, its quality and sturdiness, and was bragging to his friends once. “I wouldn’t be able to break it, even if I wanted to!” ha detto, without noticing his son (yours faithfully), all of four years then with only a limited understanding of hypothetical conditionals of this kind. Next evening, when he came back from work, I was waiting for him at the door, beaming with pride, holding his precious pen thoroughly crushed. “Dad, dad, I did it! I managed to break your pen for you!”

Heart-broken as my father must have been, he didn’t even raise his voice. Chiese, “What did you do that for, son?” using the overly affectionate Malayalam word for “son”. I was only too eager to explain. “You said yesterday that you had been trying to break it, but couldn’t. I did it for you!” Rather short on language skills, I was already a bit too long on physics. I had placed the pen near the hinges of a door and used the lever action by closing it to accomplish my mission of crushing it. Infatti, I remembered this incident when I was trying to explain to my wife (short on physics) why the door stopper placed close to the hinges was breaking the floor tiles rather than stopping the door.

My father tried to fix his Parker pen with scotch tape (which was called cellophane tape at that time) and rubber bands. Più tardi, he managed to replace the body of the pen although he could never quite fix the leaking ink. I still have the pen, and this enduring lesson in infinite patience.

Two and half years ago, my father passed away. During the ensuing soul-searching, this close friend of mine asked me, “Bene, now that you know what it takes, how well do you think you are doing?” I don’t think I am doing that well, for some lessons, even when fully learned, are just too hard to put in practice.

Foto di dailylifeofmojo cc


Si tratta di una delle tante teorie del complotto — che lo sbarco sulla Luna non ha mai avuto veramente luogo. Come potrebbe la bandiera sbattimento? Le foto — sono state davvero prese sulla Luna, o in uno studio in Navada?

Ecco una teoria diversa. Un fatto poco noto. La foto non è stata del tutto falso. E 'solo che la NASA ha mostrato solo la metà del quadro. Check this out:
Guarda le ombre sotto .
Avete mai notato prima di loro ?

Clicca qui (o sull'immagine) per vedere l'intero quadro!

Il mondano Malayalees

Se una media sente di Singapore della Conferenza Mondiale Malayalee, la prima cosa che vorrei dire è, “Mondo che cosa ora??” Malayalees sono persone del piccolo stato indiano di Kerala. Essi non devono essere confusi con malesi, anche se alcune delle cose che noi associamo con Malese (Come Pratas e biriyani) può essere fatta risalire a Kerala.

Tali scambi culturali trasversali indicano un importante tratto di Malayalees. Tendono a ventaglio e, nei loro piccoli modi, conquistare il mondo. Sono benvenuti anche influenze esterne con tutto il cuore. Sono forse le uniche persone (diverso Cinese, naturalmente) che utilizzano regolarmente un wok cinese per la cottura o una rete cinese per la cattura il pesce. Hanno anche professare la propria versione di Kung-fu, e, a volte insistono sul fatto che i cinesi effettivamente imparato da loro.

Internazionale e cosmopolita nei loro modi unici per migliaia di anni, Malayalees sono una miscela degli opposti, e Kerala un enigma economica e sociologica minore. Malayalees entusiasticamente abbracciato il cristianesimo e le religioni musulmana quando i loro missionari e emissari iniziali avventuravano fuori delle loro luoghi di origine. Ma, hanno inoltre accolto con favore il marxismo e ateismo con uguale fervore.

In media, Kerala ha un reddito pro-capite tra i più poveri del mondo, ma tutti gli altri indicatori economici sono alla pari con il mondo del più ricco. In indicatori di salute, come l'aspettativa di vita, numero pro-capite dei medici, e la mortalità infantile, Kerala riesce a rispecchiare gli Stati Uniti a circa un decimo della sua ricchezza pro capite. Kerala è il primo (e forse l'unico) terza provincia mondo per vantarsi di meglio di 90% alfabetizzazione, ed è praticamente l'unico posto in India e in Cina con più donne che uomini.

Singapore ha un posto speciale nel cuore Malayalee. Tra le loro imprese iniziali fuori Kerala durante l'era coloniale, Malayalees mirati Singapore come una destinazione popolare. Forse a causa di questa predilezione storica, Malayalees trovarono naturale per ospitare la loro Conferenza mondiale Malayalee qui.

Singapore ha anche debole per Malayalees ei loro contributi. La conferenza stessa sarà onorato dalla presenza del Presidente di Singapore, Sig.. S. R. Nathan e il Ministro degli Affari Esteri, Sig.. George Yeo. Presidente Nathan lancerà la Mostra Malayalee Beni e le Attività Culturali, e il Ministro Yeo darà una chiave di discorso nota alla Business Forum.

Il patrimonio e la cultura, risalente a oltre 2000 anni, è qualcosa che ogni Malayalee è giustamente orgoglioso di. La Mostra presenterà tutto da incisioni rupestri di tecnologia antica costruzione navale.

Andando oltre le affinità storiche e culturali, Kerala è anche stato un business alleato per Singapore, soprattutto in frutti di mare crudi. Singapore, nel loro diritto, ha fornito un flusso costante di investimenti e turisti di Kerala.

Eco-turismo è infatti una delle principali attrazioni Malayalees sarà in mostra durante la conferenza. La natura è stata troppo gentile con Kerala, con le colline ondulate della Ghat occidentale generosamente usurpare i monsoni e conservando gelosamente i Malayalees contro ogni possibile saccheggio delle loro ricchezze verdi. Benedetto con un clima temperato raro l'enclave tropicale che è, e con la bellezza ipnotica delle verdi colline nebbiose e piantagioni di tè, Kerala è davvero un paradiso di attesa, forse controvoglia, da scoprire.

Questa Conferenza mondiale Malayalalee, con i suoi spettacoli culturali e mostre patrimonio, mostrerà cosa Kerala ha da offrire al mondo, dal turismo e cultura per le opportunità di business e di talenti. Si presenterà anche Singapore alla diaspora Malayalee e insegnare loro una cosa o due riguardo l'efficienza amministrativa, pulizia e affari connettività.

Are You a Malayali?

If you can fit four passengers in the front seat of an Ambassador taxi, while in the back there are eight passengers and two children with their heads sticking out the window, chances are, you are a Mallu going to attend your cousin’s wedding.

If you can run, ride a 100 cc motorbike without wearing a helmet and play football all while wearing a lungi tied halfmast, Malayali status!

If your late father left you a part of an old house as your inheritance, and you turned it into “chaya kada,” sì, you’re a Malayali.

If you have more than 5 relatives working in Gulf, Big Time Malayali…

If you have the words “Chinchu Mol + Jinchu Mol” written on the rear window of your Omni car, sì, te sono a Malaayli.

If you refer to your husband as “Kettiyon, ithiyan, pillerude appan,” guess what — you’re a central Travancore Syrian Christian Malayali.

If you have a Tamilian parked in front of your house every Sunday, ironing your clothes, chances are a you are a Middle Class Malayali.

If you have more than three employee trade unions at your place of work, then ask no more, you are indeed a Malayali.

If you have voted into power a Chief Minister who has not passed the 4th grade then ask no further, YOU ARE A MALAYALI.

If you have at least two relatives working in the US in the health industry , sì! Malayali!

If you religiously buy a lottery ticket every week, then you’re in the Malayali Zone!

If you describe a woman as “charrakku,” yep, Malayali!

If you constantly refer to banana as “benana” or pizza as “pissa,” you’re a Malayali..

If you use coconut oil instead of refined vegetable oil and can’t figure out why people in your family have congenital heart problems, you might be a Malayali.

If you are going out to see a movie at the local theater with your wifey wearing all the gold jewellry gifted to her by her parents, you are a newly married Malayali.

If you and your wife and three children dress up in your Sunday best and go out to have biriyani at Kayikka’s on a 100 cc Bajaj mobike, you an upwardly mobile Malayali from Cochin.

If your idea of haute cuisine is kappa and meen curry, allora, sì, you are a Malayali.

If you have beef puttu for breakfast, beef olathu for lunch, and beef curry with ‘borotta’ for dinner, yeah, definitely Malalyali.

If your name is Wislon, and your wife’s name is Baby, and you name your daughter Wilby, have no doubts at all, you are a standard Malayali.

If most of the houses on your block are painted puke yellow, fluorescent green, and bright pink, definitely Malappuram Malayali.

If you tie a towel around your head and burst into a raucous rendition of the song “Kuttanadan Punjayile” after having three glasses of toddy, then you are a hardcore Malayali.

If you call appetizers served with alcoholic beverages as “touchings,” then you are one helluva Malayali.

If the local toddy shop owner knows you by your pet name and you call him “Porinju Chetta” (kekekekekek), then you are true Malayali.

If you’re sick and your wifey rubs “Bicks” into your nostrils and gives you “kurumulaku rasam” with chakkara, (grandma’s recipe) to help relieve your symptoms, damn!! You’re Malayali.