Kategori Arşivi: Malayalam

Malayalam benim anadilim. Bu kategorideki tüm mesajlar bunu söyleyenler bu ilgi. Hatta Malayalam olabilir.

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. Tamam?” 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.

Iyi, 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!

Diller

Seksenli yılların sonlarında Hindistan'ı terk etmeden önce, Ben üçüncü dil olarak Hintçe biraz konuşabilir. İngilizce ikinci dil oldu, ve Malayalam benim anadilim. Ben hayal herhangi bir streç tarafından Hintçe akıcı değildi, ama yeterince iyi bir kapı-kapı satıcısı kurtulmak için konuşabilir, Örneğin.

Bu tam olarak ne babam (Bir teyit Hintçe düşmanı) benim ziyaret sırasında yapmamı istedi eve ne zaman kalıcı bir, Hintçe konuşan sari satıcı bizim ön sundurma üzerinde dalgalanıyordu. O zaman, Ben ABD'de altı yıl geçirmişti (ve İngilizcem çok iyi kabul) ve Fransa'da birkaç yıl (bilmek yeterli “Çok iyi derecede İngilizce” hayır büyük dağıtmak oldu). Yani sari-wala kurtulmak için, Ben Hintçe onunla konuşmaya başladı, ve tuhaf bir şey oldu — her was Fransız dışarı geliyordu. Değil benim anadilim, benim ikinci veya üçüncü dil, ama Fransız! Kısacası, o gün sokaklarda dolaşım çok karıştı sari satıcısı oldu.

Gerçek, Hintçe ve Fransızca arasında biraz benzerlik var, Örneğin, soru sözcükleri sesleri, nötr obje ve aptal eril-dişil cinsiyetlerin. Ama bu Fransızlık akıtılıyor neden ne olduğunu sanmıyorum. Fransız beynimde Hintçe yerini sanki hissettim. Hintçe konuşmaya kadar kablolu edildi madenin ne olursa olsun beyin hücreleri (kötü, Ben ekleyebilirsiniz) la franciaise rewired ediliyordu! Bazı garip kaynak tahsisi mekanizması benim bilgisi veya onayı olmadan benim beyin hücreleri geri dönüşüm edildi. Ben beynimde bu Fransız işgali azalmadan devam düşünmek ve benim de İngilizce hücrelerin bir yığın asimile. Sonuçta benim İngilizce dagiImis var ki oldu, ve benim Fransızca yeterince iyi asla var. Benim karıştı beyin hücreleri için biraz üzülüyorum. Karma, Sanırım — Ben sari satıcı karıştırılmamalıdır olmamalıdır.

Şakacıktan konuşulan rağmen, Ben ne dedim doğru olduğunu düşünüyorum — Eğer konuştuğu diller beynin farklı bölümleri işgal. Bir arkadaşım mezunu yaşındaki bir Fransız-Amerikan kız. O Americanese içinde hiçbir fark aksanı var. O beni Fransa'da kez ziyaret, ve ben o İngilizce bir kelime kullanılır zaman Fransızca konuşurken bulundu, o ayrı bir Fransız aksanı vardı. İngilizce kelimeleri beyninin Fransız bölümünde çıktı sanki oldu.

Elbette, dilleri yaratıcı elinde bir araç olabilir. Fransa'da Benim officemate inatla hiç bir Fransız öğrenmeyi reddetti akıllı İngilizce adamdı, ve aktif Fransız asimilasyon herhangi bir belirti direndi. O yardımcı olabilir eğer o bir Fransız kelime bile cikmaz. Ama sonra, bir yaz, iki İngiliz stajyerler geldi. Benim officemate onlara akıl hocası istendi. Bu iki kız ofisimize geldi onu karşılamak için, bu adam aniden iki dilli döndü ve gibi bir şey söyleyerek başladı, “Burada ne.. Aman, üzgünüm, Ben Fransızca konuşan etmediğini unutmuşum!”

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.

Zaten, 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. Daha fazlası, 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. Muhakkak, 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. Şimdi, 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. Zaten, 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. Ama sonra, 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. Benim durumumda, 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. Bilirsin, 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, by then, 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, hangi, elbette, may have been a polite way of calling me lazy.

Zaten, 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!” dedi, 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. He asked, “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. Aslında, 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. Daha sonra, 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, “Iyi, 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.

Fotoğraf dailylifeofmojo cc

Moonwalkers

Birçok komplo teorilerinden biridir — Aya iniş gerçekten hiçbir zaman yaşanmadığını. Nasıl bayrak flutter olabilir? Resimler — onlar gerçekten aya çekildi, veya Navada bir stüdyoda?

İşte farklı bir teoridir. Az bilinen bir gerçektir. Fotoğraf tamamen sahte değildi. Bu NASA sadece yarısı resmini gösterdi sadece budur. Bu göz atın:
Aşağıdaki gölgeler bak .
Daha önce onları fark ettiniz ?

buraya tıklayın (ya da görüntü üzerinde) bütün resmi görmek için!

Dünyevi Malayalees

Eğer Dünya Malayalee Konferansı ortalama Singapurlu duyduğu, derlerdi ilk şey, “Şimdi Dünya ne??” Malayalees Kerala küçük Hint devlet insanlar. Onlar Malaylar ile karıştırılmamalıdır değildir, bazı şeyler olsa da biz Malay ile ilişkilendirmek (Pratas ve biriyani Bu gibi) Kerala geri izlenebilmektedir.

Bu çapraz kültürel alışverişler Malayalees önemli bir özelliği işaret. Onlar fan dışarı eğilimindedir ve, Kendi küçük şekillerde, dünyayı fethetmek. Onlar da yürekten dış etkileri hoş geldiniz. Onlar belki de tek kişi vardır (Çince dışındaki, elbette) kim düzenli olarak balık yakalamak için pişirme veya bir Çinli net bir Çinli wok kullanmak. Onlar bile Kung fu-kendi versiyonunu uygulama, ve zaman zaman Çinli aslında onlardan öğrendim ısrar.

Binlerce yıldır kendi benzersiz şekillerde Uluslararası ve kozmopolit, Malayalees zıt bir karışımı olan, ve Kerala küçük bir ekonomik ve sosyolojik bilmece. Onların ilk misyonerler ve elçileri geldikleri yerlere dışında cesaret Malayalees coşkuyla Hıristiyanlığı ve Müslüman dinleri kucakladı. Ancak, onlar da eşit şevk ile Marksizmi ve ateizmi memnuniyetle.

Ortalama olarak, Kerala Dünyanın en yoksul arasında kişi başına düşen geliri vardır, ancak tüm diğer ekonomik göstergeler dünyanın en zengin eşit olan. Böyle yaşam beklentisi gibi sağlık göstergelerinde, doktorların başına düşen sayı, ve bebek ölüm, Kerala kendi başına bir zenginlik onda ABD'yi ayna yönetir. Kerala ilk (ve belki de tek) Üçüncü dünya il daha iyi övünme 90% okur yazarlık, sadece erkeklere oranla daha fazla kadın ile Hindistan ve Çin'de tek yer hakkında.

Singapur Malayalee kalbinde özel bir yeri vardır. Sömürge döneminde Kerala dışında onların ilk girişimler arasında, Malayalees popüler bir hedef olarak Singapur hedeflenen. Belki de bu tarihsel sevgi için, Malayalees burada kendi Dünya Malayalee Konferansı'na ev sahipliği için doğal bulundu.

Singapur da Malayalees ve katkılarından dolayı zaafı var. Konferans kendisi Singapur Başkanı varlığı ile süslemekte olacak, Bay. S. R. Nathan ve Dışişleri Bakanı, Bay. George Yeo. Cumhurbaşkanı Nathan Malayalee Mirası ve Kültür Fuarı başlatacak, ve Bakan Yeo İş Forumu'nda bir anahtar nota konuşma yapacak.

miras ve kültür, üzerinde de iki bin yıl geriye uzanan, şey her Malayalee haklı gurur olduğunu. Sergi, antik gemi inşa teknolojisi mağara gravürler her şeyi vitrin olacak.

Tarihsel ve kültürel yakınlıkları ötesine gidiyor, Kerala ayrıca Singapur bir iş müttefiki olmuştur, Özellikle çiğ deniz ürünleri. Singapur, kendi başlarına, Kerala yatırımlar ve turist akışı sağladı.

Eko-turizm gerçekten Malayalees konferans sırasında vitrin üst konumlar biridir. Doğa Kerala aşırı nazik olmuştur, Batı Ghat dalgalı tepeler cömertçe yeşil zenginliklerini olası yağma karşı Malayalees koruma kıskançlıkla Monsoons gasp ve ile. O tropikal yerleşim nadir bir ılıman iklime sahip Blessed, ve puslu yeşil yamaçlarda ve çay tarlaları hipnotik güzelliği ile, Kerala gerçekten bir cennet bekliyor olduğunu, belki de istemeyerek, keşfedilen.

Bu Dünya Malayalalee Konferansı, kültürel gösteriler ve sergiler miras ile, Kerala dünyaya neler sunabileceği gösterecektir, iş fırsatları ve yetenek havuzuna turizm ve kültürden. Ayrıca Malayalee diasporasının için Singapur vitrin ve onlara idari verimliliği hakkında bir iki şey öğretecek, temizlik ve iş bağlantısı.

Size bir Malayali Are?

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,” evet, 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, evet, you vardır 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 , evet! 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, o zaman, evet, 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.

IF YOU DON’T NEED ANY EXPLANATIONS FOR ANY OF THE ABOVE, YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE THE REAL McCOY, A BLUE BLOOD MALAYALI. LAAL SALAAM.