Part-1 The wagging of tongue (The origin of a language): 336 A

Me and my friend were strolling down the road, hearing the animated chattering of school children. The mix of languages in different inflexions drew our attention. Our conversation turned towards the topic of mother tongue and father tongue. But my friend was not so convinced about the concept of a father tongue. I asked, “When foreign tongues, and work-space generated technical tongues (jargon-sprinkled with jargons of professionals) are readily accepted, why not a father tongue?”   

His face clouded with doubts, he replied, “You are a glib talker. Can you explain all these points on record?” 

Accepting, I replied “The first part will take you to the very origin of a language and the second and third parts will bring you to the stage of printed books. In between, I will touch upon the mother tongue and father tongue. Are you ready to hear?”

When he acceded to hear, we parted company. I started thinking about how to handle this task and he, probably wondering, why did not he keep his tongue in cheek! 

Thoughts tumbling in my mind, I spent considerable time twisting and turning on the bed, in an attempt to catch that elusive sleep. Finally, my eyelids started to droop. My subconscious mind, the sleep spoiler, commenced playing some vague video clips to clue in to familiar snippets of information. 

I found myself in the corridor of a hospital, where parents and relatives were anxiously waiting to hear the first cry of a newborn baby. Though asleep, this doubt popped up in my mind - “how can it be parents, should it not be a parent while the other is undergoing the delivery pangs? 

I applauded myself for clearing my own doubt by explaining it away as parents of the husband and wife! After this interruption the dream continued to show how this first cry becomes the wails of a siren. The session ended with a warning - as the baby grows, its market share of the initial welcoming warmth will go down with these ‘sleep spoiler spells. 

When this vivid dream ended, I woke up bedraggled with this doubt “Did I over play my hand promising to easily trace the evolution of a language right from the beginning.?” My inner voice added a twist and asked, “A doubtful promise or a promising doubt?” 

Next day, my friend brought his august presence, whether to hear my insight or to watch me squirming uncomfortably, to my house. In all seriousness he asked, “How did they manage it?” He has the knack for asking open ended questions without referring to a subject matter and leave others in confusion. 

How could I forgo an opportunity than this to test the strength of our friendship? Chuckling to myself, I decided to test him with my thoughts. 

“Let me start with an overview. Later on, I may use some of these points, to buttress a specific context.

Unmindful of inconveniences, the mother becomes the only linguistic expert to decode the cry as expressions of wants and feelings of the baby, till such time the child starts to mouth the sounds and syllables to convey its wants, pleasures and displeasures. Growing older the baby starts to blabber in strings of syllables and body language to communicate. If annoyed, the child did not hesitate to belt out the strings of syllables with raising crescendo. 

The present-day mother has the ability to speak whereas the first humanoid species did not have that faculty.  Then how did those mothers manage the situation? Did those mothers used sounds without definitive structure to communicate? Due to the newborns’ proximity to mothers, did they simply inherit it by mimicking?   

Though successive generations must have felt the necessity for a better means of communication, they could not have done anything but to look at the sky in despair and keep their thoughts imprisoned in a wordless world. Their plight, inability and anguish had kept me busy on a thinking loop. 

I asked, “Can you guess how the evolution of tongue or language, as we call it started? How the mothers of our ancestors managed the tantrums and with what secret formula?”

He chose silence instead of speaking out his mind. He knows that I know that he knows the answer. I also understood his reservations on the explanations I would be making. A cautious fellow with an impenetrable silence as armour!

Answering my own question, I continued, “Unable to speak like a present-day mother could do, the mothers of our ancestors only could have made pseudo-speeches (sounds without definition) in the form of clicks or clacks”.  

My friend asked, “What is this ‘click’ and where from you have imported it?” To tease him I quipped, “from my bag of guesses!” This sarcasm was my attempt to evade answering how sound becomes speech and to hold back some of the scientific findings on this, for appropriate use later.

Not to be sidelined, my inner voice joined issues with a growl and prodded, “Why this sudden interest in trying to fathom the origin of a language? Do you have the requisite expertise to understand and then to proceed forward? Be warned.  If you are planning a write up, it will get scrutinized and maybe, you will be crucified on the literary stakes.”

Out of my friend’s hearing, I managed to post a silent reply, “I am only trying to imagine how all these things would have evolved. Like great Scientists standing on the shoulders or building upon the theories of their predecessors, I will be looking over the shoulders and building upon the theories of archaeologists and borrow their assembled dates, artifacts and other evidence. Have they not constructed a picture using their imagination? Likewise, I am just trying to add a little humane touch and colour on to the canvas. Will you withdraw your earlier warning?

You can pull in an idea from thin air, but to develop it into something, don’t you need the skills of a language? A Logophilic, who loves words, will easily spans this chasm. A ‘Xenolingohassenist’ will find it frightening and gives up.”. This exercise will also help me to decide whether I am Logophilic or a Xenolingohassenist. Satisfied now?”

My friend with an impenetrable silence has another talent – to read silent conversations. He had unscrambled our unspoken communication and questioned me, “Why do you use Xenolingohassenist, instead of the word lingophobic?  Attempting to overwhelm and confuse me?”  At this point, having done its job, my inner voice quietly withdrew.

Taking the comments seriously, I started digging into relevant archaeological archives and absorb the findings, before embedding them in my, imaginative narration for the limited purpose of tracing the development of a language.  I believed this exercise will please my friend and satisfy my inner voice, if at all they let me to work in peace.

They obliged and left me in peace for a week. Somehow sensing enough time had elapsed, my friend dropped in and straight away declared, “I am ready to hear you”

Not to douse his enthusiasm, I started.  “Remember your question on clicks. It takes us to these important places - Nature’s laboratories. The Nature, being an ultra-utilitarian, had set up these laboratories in caves, edges of forests, on the mountains, on the seashores and by the banks of rivers. This was where our ancestors discovered, improved and delivered the clicks of a tongue or a dialect.    No doubt, their efforts and time spent would have been truly mind boggling and were in no position to judge the importance of their toils, vis a vis humanity.

The different environments must have helped the mothers to pick up sound cues from the cooing of birds, roaring of animals, crashing of waves and thunders must have evoked different kind of feelings, which they could have expressed by mimicking these sounds. Choosing the soft sounds, the mothers might have crooned to communicate with or to lull the fetus or baby to remain calm. Harsher sounds were probably reserved for admonishing a child or to warn of dangers. These sound-tricks were the products of mothers’ instincts!

What else could they do as they themselves were speechless?  As years rolled by, this precursor to lullaby formed the backbone of a language still retaining the sound only tag.  The sole purpose of this vocal-musical language of sound was to offer comfort and safety to the cradlers! Maybe, this sound-tricks had the potential to develop into a soundtrack of a mother tongue.”

To appreciate motherhood, I highlighted their efforts to become composers, song writers and singers, using primeval sounds learned from nature. A plethora of inspired musicals resulted due to introduced variations. The menfolk slowly became attracted by this music to become melomaniacs or melophiles. Many of them later might have turned out their own type of musicals, infusing their outdoor experiences. More about this when we come to the topic of Father tongue. 

After hearing this my friend asked, “You mean to say that the womenfolk played a key role in the birth of a language? Is it why we have the term mother tongue?”

 

“Yes, if we assume that the first mother taught the first newborn, then she played the key role. By association the man in the house picked it up and went about adding more teeth to it. Yes, now we have the fore runner to a mother tongue!” 

He had another question.  “How long this fore runner took to become spoken words? 

“Perhaps, near about 75,000 years ago, these wordless musicals befriended cave and rockface arts to join hands with them. The images carved or painted or drawn on rock faces and walls of caves, reflected the earliest form of pictorial communication to overcome the lack of spoken words.

Over time, these cave and rockface arts too might have inadvertently formed the backbone on which the bare musical sounds used to communicate grew to become a different form of vocalization called music. This could have happened 35,000 years ago, when our ancestors made rudimentary instruments and started to play the musical notes on them! They might have used this crafting skill   as a diversion or as  a path to creativity or to simply express anguish for living in a wordless environment!”

My inner voice chose to interrupt the flow.  “Nowadays, a child starts to speak in a year or two, and why after thousands of years that first cry could not become spoken words?

Silently admonishing it to wait patiently, I continued with my explanation to my friend who was probably searching for a pinch of salt to take whatever I was about to dish out. “Nature was never in a hurry at all. It had the biggest biolab in the Solar system and chose three streams to work with.

One: Working in three domains aquatic, terrestrial and arboreal, it incubated verities of species with unimaginable variations, arranged their food chains and survival mechanisms. Two:  It did not want every species talking at once, so taught them only to make sounds as in the same exact way nature was communicating with them. Howl of wind, crashing of waves, rolling of thunder, crackling of fire, creaking of trees and so on.

Three: It chose the humans as candidates but deferred the initiation of its ‘Project Speech’. What are a few million years to be expended by humans out of a few billion years given to Earth? So far in the story of language, it has not managed to cross the barrier of wordless communication.

The evolution of a mother tongue is facilitated by the mother- child transfer as a major contributor and a commune level collaboration to develop it further. These points along with the time frames involved are crucial to understand the intervening stages of evolution, before the story ends in a printed book.”

Without waiting for my friend’s reaction, which would surely come later, I closed this imaginary journey to   “The origin of a language”

The parrots squawk and screech: 344

Milaghu (Black pepper corns) paatty not breathing her last at 92 or Jeeraga (cumin seed) thaththa battling insomnia at 95 and Vendhaya (Fenugreek seeds) aunty dashing in and out of ICUs at 88, is great news being shared in group chats.  With wires crossed , the chat group was waiting for a signal announcing the apocalypse (a noun with an abject connotations). 

The only other worry ploughing through these chatters seemed to be, “Why some in the group are not joining in to share and worry about these octogenarians and nonagenarians! This was a concern, over riding the risk factors of wars, nuclear tipped missiles and economic meltdowns and shortage of subsidised fuel and onions either rotting or unavailable. 

The worrywarts, or shall they be called worry termites, who don't get a day's sleep when they fail to share these as chats or if nothing else as important as the deteriorating health of octogenarians and nonagenarians takes place, then the worrywarts end up happily (emojis included) sharing forwarded messages. Really, the warts or termites might have feasted on their neurons! 

Anyone worth the cost of a smartphone gets all these 'forwarded' messages, with plenty to spare. Why to respond with a like or dislike and waste emojis? This is the stand of some in the group, who silently bin such forwards. 

Pre-scheduled and periodic, minutes of face time on, any platform that can put up with simultaneous chatter and visuals, is spent in discussing Milaghu paatty, Jeeraga thaththa and Vendhaya aunty, but in a carefully curated diplomatic move, discussions sidestep from not even hinting at drawbacks within the chat group. 

One-on-one discussions overflow with bucketful of concerns about family X, but do not have the courage to step in and hand over the full bucket to the concerned. If it is for fear of getting rejected or hurting the feelings of family X, then why at all have this fill the bucket and forget act? Is it to appease the appetite of the resident worrywarts or worry termites or unable to do something useful or to just pass the time of the day? Separation by distance provides the fertile ground for these worrywarts and worry termites to thrive! 

The chatters who worry about those who don' t respond has some soul searching to do. Were the non-responding members included with permission or taken in like commercial establishments do? Whether the chatters’ domain has any hidden motive and by not responding some are reacting to that motive? If the wisdom, buckets of  of concerns or the shared forwarded messages fail to evoke interest in all, what has to happen, happens - No response. 

One such facetime involved a group member held the center stage with his tabletop aquarium and ornamental fishes. From the lengthy monologue of the home grown pisciculturist, the other participants became wiser to know that fishes thrive in R.O water flushed with Ozone instead of Oxygen! Emojis with encomiums flew back and forth. Of course, he had conveniently omitted to mention the weekly replenishment with fresh stock to make up for the tanked ones! 

To divert attention from the loss of ornamental fishes, he pisciculturist distributed these titbits, free of cost - When the fish starts hunting for its own food, it is called a fry. As the fish grows to about the size of a human finger and develops scales and working fins, it is called a fingerling. When the fish looks like a miniature version of an adult but is not yet old is called the juvenile. This Zoom event left everyone to feel ‘something fishy’ but closed their noses, and mouths, as relationships stated stronger than the smell of the tanked fishes. 

Forget Schrodinger's cat. Another member of the group has a kitten and it consumes minutes of face time, with voice over commentary of its purported antics in the hope of enthralling the others, who may or may not like cats.  Then there is a dog and a parrot vying for equal importance by competing with barks and with squawks & screeches. And then there are exotic (local variety) plants to be admired upon. 

Collective nouns expect the elective nouns to whole heartedly appreciate the sugary sweetness oozing out of their pets’ intelligence, antics and their own achievements. This over reach unsettles the elective nouns and they remain eloquently silent. Not to be put down so easily, the collective nouns launch arrows of allegations and ‘pin’ning  at the elective nouns. 

First the allegations. “You should have rolled your eyes and exclaimed ‘how cute! You must have felt the emotional or sentimental strings being thrummed.”  

Next the ‘pin’ning. “For being unresponsive, you will get the label - anti schmaltz. This label will find a prompt mention in the next face time as well as in the annals of the cat’s, dog’s & parrot's histories and the plants' botany books and the fish lings' Zoology books”  

The evolution of the state of Retirement: 

Sixty years ago, the dream after attaining superannuation was to buy, if not already available, a recliner and relax on it with a cup of coffee or tea. News Paper and one or two weekly magazines to keep company, if the financial outgo on this account did not hurt the budget of the family. The glass lens in a thick frame gets a 4- wheeler windshield wiper treatment. A clean cotton cloth replaces the wiper to get the job done.  It is a ritual whether clear vision results or not. 

The waiting specs taking its position on the nose and News Paper of the day offer a glimpse of the country and the world. At that time, not yet jet propelled, events around the world were moving at a slow pace as the next day News Papers confirmed this. Of course, obligations and debt servicing might continue for some more years. Retirees might occasionally meet and compare notes, in a café or a park whenever possible. 

A sedentary life, in the company of the recliner and News Papers unless the health check-up warrants a stroll or a brisk walk, targeting cholesterol or diabetes. An occasional parrot card reading reassures the retiree that “if used to difficulties, you become immune to them.” 

Move forward by thirty years. The retiree might have come out of debts but not yet fully out of obligations and the recliner dream might have given way to a settee with or without the inseparable throws. To protect the eyes from harmful UV rays, Crooke’s glass lenses with a blue tinge have come to stay.  The user has the choice to choose a Photochromic Lense. It is goodbye to the 4-wheeler viper treatment as vigorous wiping leaves scratches and damage the photochromic coating.

The Zen next coated lenses are allergic to soap baths. The specs, with modern looking frame, retain its position and along with the News Papers & magazines, a new entrant affectionately known as the idiot box ready with a lending library full of tear-jerking melodramas and spine hurting slapstick comedies. 

If an adventurous type, the retiree lets the specs hang on a chain, when not in use or to overcome the just popping up Alzheimer’s head! The tension filled sedentary life is threatened by health issues. Retirees meet during indoor and outdoor activities or in doctor’s waiting rooms. Not willing to let go these opportunities, chronicles on chronic ailments are exchanged to be studied at leisure. 

Or insert a coin, after the needle comes to rest, into the mouth of a weighing machine standing forlornly in public places and wait. It will hungrily swallow that coin and reluctantly deliver your fortune in general terms. The choice is yours to believe or blame. After all, for a small value coin is it not too much to expect a voluminous prediction?  Still the machine could surprise you - the coin disappears and the fortune card does not appear. Rarely, the coin returns without the card. 

Hop on to a time machine and move forward to the next thirty years. The traveller will land in an era of polycarbonate plastic lenses, having variable focus, mostly replacing the bygone era glass varieties. They are light in weight and coated in shades of grey, black or brown or green combining anti-glare property. With the make-up of a photochromic coating, the specs become a moody cine star, needing extra care. 

Vigorous wiping leaves them in scars. The optician strictly recommends a Special sprayable ® solution” wash and toweling with super soft cloth. A rough cloth or Beauty soap wash in any form, gel or solution in water is absolutely prohibited. Violate, you pay for another specs! 

The lenses produced by latest technology partner with unbreakable, flexible and foldable frames and still holds its position along with new entrants like smart phone and iPad and iPod. The News Papers get dismissed as the events in the world change at breakneck speed and late news is dead news. Moreover, gadgets like Alexa can get you the latest information.  The idiot box has become “smart” but cell phones & iPads are versatile and portable to stream or scream whatever is one’s choice. Particularly handy to annoy and cause nuisance for fellow travellers, especially in trains. 

The Tarot card foretells about the existing alternate employment options to break the monotony of a retired life along with suggestions for filling up space with unwanted comfort furnitures, diet control, medicines and must do physical activities. Based on these multiple advises, the retiree reaches the pinnacle of philosophy – “The more you have, lesser the chances of to you get to enjoy them. iPad and iPod do not substitute a plate of proscribed, steaming food. In place of money or wealth, what you need is an unfished dream or project to keep driving. This is important, to retain your importance in life!” 

With time running out, your travel by the time machine ends here. It is hard to judge whether the advance was thirty years or more than that! 

Recliners get thrown out by form-fitting floating pods that are stabilized and controlled by Tripple A rated AAI (Advanced Artificial Intelligence). 

No lense or specs, as print and electronic media have become fossils. EQE (Electron Quantum Entanglement) refreshes the brain cells with instantaneous happenings from all over the universe, whether you want or not! 

When the mind and body are taken care of, will there be a need for employment and retirement?  The human beings would have to face this dilemma: To bin the notion of earning one’s keep. Or alternatively to live in peace, choose to imagine the in between state of not seeking to be employed and hence not foreseeing a retirement! 

Probably, realising that there are two states, active or inactive, are available to it also the time machine took the decision to retire from its job. What the stranded traveller would do? Decide to retire there! 

A dose of laughter, the best medicine: 

Can you answer a question with a question? 

Yes. I know of a student who did it, not for one but for all the questions in the exam with questions. 

Why? 

To understand that you have to listen to this story. His lecturer was very strict and allowed no questions to be raised during or after the classes. One frustrated student decided to take it head on. During a test in that particular subject, he just wrote the question number and asked all the doubts, as questions, he wanted to ask during those lectures. 

He filled more and more additional sheets, till he came to the last question of the test paper. The lecturer was aghast to see this student’s answer papers towering over the combined answer sheets of the rest of the class. 

Then, after a few days, the unthinkable happened. 

Was the student taken to task for pulling a stunt like that or for scoring zero marks? 

No. The lecturer timidly announced, "From now onwards, ask away as many questions as you want during or after the classes. But don’t answer a question by raising number of doubts on the question!"

Mischievous miscellany 2: 356

The mushroom syndrome and the common man: 

The other day, Ms Helle Lyng stirred a storm, where a high-pressure trough was already holding court. Yet, she used her free press credentials to yell hell. Alas, on deep diving one comes up with the ‘pearls in oysters’ that her press is not free, freer or the freest in the world, at all, living literally on government dole. All this did not cross her mind or did not matter to her to hop on a mustang and trot off. 

Temerity must be her other name, when on the same horse, she wanted to trot over continents for a follow up interview with an LLG in the sub-continent. She could not be faulted for her ignorance that already here, there is an army of LLGs doing just the same in the name of freedom of expression. The difference is these LLGs operate with offshore inputs and she trying to recover from an offshore fiasco. In this melee, how she will dig out a scoop must be known only to her or possibly to her handlers. For people like her freedom of press or free press means only one thing – to catapult some mud and count coins. 

One agitated common man had some oysters with pearls for such journos. “If you look inwards in your own country, so many rotten things will stand out for your free press reporting or bashing. Why don’t you do it? Became tired or indifferent? The reason you bring your free press card here is simple - this populous country has many LLGs doing this work by routine and maybe you think a ‘foreign fodder’ will pack more chocolate than the real Switzerland and Belgium chocolates? 

How would you feel when I decide to hang a free press card on a lanyard from this subcontinent and come to your shores to show you all a Belgium mirror? Would you not feel insulted when a ‘free press’ from ny country comes to your shores with a ledger to detail the wealth looted from our ancestors by the so-called advanced nation? This country did not choose you. You are welcome as a guest. Remember, journalism did not choose you. You made a choice. Make it count positively." 

This common man had some more oysters with pearls to share with LLGs of his country. “Deep state, light state or nebulous state has ill-gotten wealth and funnel it for playing vicarious games. Lining your pockets with these funds, you the inhouse LLGs, try at best you might to hiss like a cobra without its head. So befuddled in your thinking, you all have never introspected about the lack of appeal to the masses, as you are busy in filing appeals for bails and skipping appearances in courts. Without feeling shame, you LLGs label everything as a human rights violation and exactly with which that journalist from the freest press of the world naively bought and brazenly tried to sell with the help of a charismatic LLG.” 

He had some leftover oysters with pearls. “Politicians blame industrialists forgetting the job opportunities they have created but happily dip their hands in the revenue generated by them. Local politicians blame another far away government for failing to create employment opportunities in their constituencies. Is it not easier to point an index finger instead of lifting a little finger to do something constructive?  

All of you, look inwards, at your own country. So many things will stand out deserving appreciation and in need of your help to flourish further. Why don’t you try it instead of ideological bashings? The reason is important - this populous country has many LLGs doing this work by routine thinking that a ‘foreign fodder’ has more chocolate than the real Switzerland and Belgium chocolate.” 

Note:  Please do not mistake the common man as anti-press freedom and anti-LLGs. His lament was the LLGs suffering selective or elective amnesia. They conveniently forget the other rules and regulations followed in those countries holding the banner on freedom of press which if applied here you all will raise against it shouting *ism. Kindly wipe your crocodile tears with that foreign tissue paper! 

Recusal, a judicial boomerang? 

The common man had another straw to clutch about the ‘recusal’. Like all the common men, he had opinions to share within quotes and unquote. “I have never been a litigant but avidly follow cases that involve top-flight politicians and other hi-profile individuals. I am blessed for the first part and frustrated with the second part. In all these court room dramas, my heart goes out to the other party that gets challan for traffic violation for walking on the footpath.

With nostalgia, I may recollect the longest serving public figure, or the highest bridge ever built and the meanest enemies a country had faced but shudder to think about the never-ending legal proceedings, which prima facie should have ended with an ex parte decision! 

Why does it not happen, though such cases are mounted on evidence and argued based on jurisprudence. The problem crops up when during important turning point of the case, the evidence disappears or gets misplaced or outright becomes corrupted. The other party suffers in anguish, realising the case may survive the lifetime of the accused and the petitioner.” 

Becoming serious, the common man started counting the steps that eventually leads to a ‘recusal’. “The initial help comes from the interning specialists – legal luminaries with flapping gowns and tall legal standing usually appear in the hi-profile cases. Against this tide, the petitioner braves expenses, threats and intimidations hoping that at least the gowns that wear PIL (public interest litigation) labels on their sleeves to come out in their avatar of pro bono Público to support. Has this happened in any of these hi-profile cases? The answer would be a loud, screeching “NO, No, no” without banging a gavel. How could they, as they only want to fight with the government?” 

Still smarting under the injustice, the common man traces another route by which a case that is ripe for judgement stage gets the accused a legal lease of life. Suddenly, a judge recuses from further proceedings, which might be a moral stand for the honourable judge, which leaves the petitioner with a question ‘where was this moral stand hiding till now? Is the petitioner not dealt with a body blow, legally speaking? Is not the petitioner’s right for a fair adjudication given the short shrift by the recusal in the middle of the proceedings? 

Is it not a fact that this had prevented the petitioner in appearing before another judge to proceed with the case? Halfway through, if the bug of recusal can bite, who gives the guarantee that one more recusal bug is not lying in wait? 

Another heavy blow awaits the petitioner when ‘recusal’ is delivered on the verge of deciding the outcome or after deciding on it but before making the pronouncement. If recusal just before delivering a judgement has serious implications for self and the complainant, why did not the bench attempt to overrule on its own discomfort?  Should not the seriousness of the issue deserve an urgent resolution?  Why lecture the complainant at this late hour on which sections of jurisprudence the case should have been filed in the first place? 

Does not this eleventh hour recusal pose serious questions on the lawmakers, the benches, judges, lawyers in delivering the avowed justice impartially? Is this not meeting out a punishment to the deserved rather than the requested legal remedy? Will the complainant have enough fight left, to pursue the matter? 

In an ironical twist, the table (judge’s bench) gets turned when a party appearing to defend the indictment moves a motion requesting the bench to recuse itself from hearing the case. For a layman, reading about countless adjournments, long gaps in between the hearings and judgement, this ‘stall motion technique’ appeared like ‘the judge getting the taste of own medicine’.  But the pity is this could happen to an honest judge! 

In reality, to make the presiding judge to run away from the case in an attempt to blindside ‘Gandhari holding the scales of justice in hand’ and inviting the Duryodhana effect! 

Note:  This common man is a law-abiding citizen and has not even collected a traffic violation challan. His lament was that the law is being bent to the will of a few. There is no hue and cry or a black gown march when an adjudicator recuses or is asked to recuse.  Where are the LLGs & PIL specialists holding the ‘free the judiciary’ banners hiding, when these acts happen in a court room?

Mischievous miscellany 3: 357

 The cacophony on Cockroach and the common man:

The common man disliked the insect that could perform role not specified in the script. He was aware of the over 4000 species spread across the world. He knew, some of them, known as pests, kept busy distributing allergies & bacteria. The other members of the tribe play helpful roles in decomposing decaying matter. 

They all come with well-equipped survival kits. Have secondary eyes, night vision, antenna and hairs to detect vibration.  The night vision helps in foraging for food, to survive and proliferate in dark underworld of sewers and drainpipes. Out in the open, it is like a sitting duck and easy prey for humans, birds, frogs, and lizards. Fearing for its dear life, it avoids making public appearance in well-lit domains and open spaces. 

Instead, it prefers a walk in the park, during the nights as worms and most of the birds lack night vision. Still, a cockroach may not be out of the woods, as some lizards might make an attempt on its life.  It remains content with its life of wading through sewers, travelling inside drainpipes. Occasionally, it makes flying visits to scavenge for food in the kitchens. This adventure comes with a price tag – getting paralysed like a deer caught in the head lights and suffer the fright of its life. 

The light in the kitchen never failed to scare it.  Not a hi-fi life, but a way of life with self-respect. It was not stealing but only clearing the crumbs! It had its few fun moments too, when it landed on people who got easily scared and run away instead of chasing it. Many poisonous inventions got stocked up in the households to kill it at sight, but has it been winning in most of the skirmishes by sacrificing a few of its friends here and there? 

He wondered out of these 200 species of cockroach, which has been suddenly thrust into daylight, from its hiding place. He was concerned about the 200 and odd species sharing the living space in his country and wondered whether this type of publicity would be a help or hinderance! 

Forced to come into the limelight, the cockroach it sat regretting this common man’s empathy and making it public. This act has inadvertently left the door open for it. Seizing this opportunity, it decided to articulate its own feelings right from its hiding place 

The cornered cockroach speaks:

My life has been turned upside down. Now, I have to strengthen my legs and wings to scoot away to lands where humanity does not exist. I am disillusioned, when knowingly people blame the sweltering heat or failed monsoon or the effect of a thousand kilometers away war, to find fault with the government of the day. Is this liberal thinking without logic?

Don’t the politicians feel no shame when demanding white papers from someone else while hiding the truth about their birth, dual citizenship and stashed wealth details? How come these politicians who did not lift a little finger to generate employment opportunities, when they were in government, find it convenient to blame it another government? To cover up failure, why train the guns on industrialists who create opportunities and wealth. Don’t they feel guilty when squandering away that wealth in the name of doles?

It beats me to understand, how politicians stay employed forever, while the needy does not get even an interview call! Don’t they feel any shame when an outgoing chair-sticker brazenly demands comfortable chairs for kith & kin and coterie? Why the de facto chair with shaking legs sides with the chair-sticker? Nursing a hope for a better chair than the shaking one, even if the replacement is far in the future?

How a cockroach like me can comment on the saying that ‘the long arm of law will eventually reach you’ when in reality, it is only infinitely extending when it comes to politicos and money bags. What can I say about the ‘forced out of power’ politicos refusing to vacate official residences and hurl statements like ‘if you dare, try to force me out?’ I wonder whether any long arm of law will eventually get to them?

The mass psychology of people defies any logic known to me. Why do they trust politicians, who paint rosy pictures littered with outlandish promises, and get fooled repeatedly?  Why don’t the youth and others stand up against doles and demand for opportunities with dignity? Have the youth not heard “jobs don’t find you, you have to find them”? I am not against them for dreaming but will a better future await the weeping marksheet and talent?

I am appalled, by looking at the kind of people who come out and whole heartedly extend support to any agitation.

Politicians who have failed to work for the betterment of his or her constituency.  Political parties threatening to let out its own cadre- cockroaches, to cause disruptions and confusion.  As if to keep every one’s morale up, a team of lawyers, wearing party colours and their judicial robes descend on the scene to fan the frenzy itching to file PILs.  The "No" sayers quickly took to social media to say "See, I have been right". Generations expecting the jobs to find them but are happy to get dole and wait patiently for the jobs to find them.

I don’t know who to blame and shame - the agitators or the losers supporting them? This long list of 'extending my support’ was confusing and it was not an easy task for me to decipher. I have only pity for the stakeholders in the crowd, who have come with dreams and misplaced hopes.

I am pained to note that someone else is getting the publicity at my expense. With a very tiny brain when I could see through this game, why the readers and viewers fail to understand, and walk in to dark places where only cockroaches like me can survive?

Even in the moment of my glory, I did not fail to ring the alarm bells, which found only deaf ears, belying my trust on the readers and viewers. Initially I could see favourable wind blowing in that direction. But later it turned out to be nothing but the hurt politicians fanning themselves to remain relevant. Am I wrong in getting disoriented?

Like bad luck, my realisation came with company. Am I being used by sharks swimming in political waters to stay in the pool without calling it quits?  The shark not getting tired of swimming in the political pool, alleges that not even one corporate house is headed by a cockroach.  Sadly, they missed the bus on these points, which I don’t mind bringing out. 

Point No:1 We the cockroaches abhor the corporates manufacturing products to annihilate us, right on the ground.  But for the spray-raid shelters, in the drainpipes and sewage canals, we would have become history by now. 

Point No 2: The shark, politically surviving by promising freebies, forgets that the cash for the doles and their scams is generated by the corporates not headed by cockroaches. 

Point No 3: Relentless attempts are made to drive me out of your living spaces. Do I protest or dare your extermination drives? Politicos, in your case an eviction means you will be moving to one of your own palatial houses. Why resist and unnecessarily dare? When you won't vacate the bungalow to which you have become ineligible, how dare you try to banish me from your houses? Oh, politicos, before piggybacking on my presence, why not set your houses in order?

How can I understand the hue and cry and the frenzy of humanity, to seize my hairy legs to climb up the stairs of relevance? I am living in a dark forest full of difficulties, then how do you expect me to water your potted plants?

But I do have questions for the common man. With what intent you spoke about the global and local reach of insects like me? Why did you not attempt to expose the double standard of politicos in power or smarting under loss of power?  Why did not you question such people, when they come out in support of an issue which they could have refrained from creating, in the first place or could have solved it easily?

Finally, I have questions for the conscious bitten good Samaritans. How am I to make sure that you are not playing sympathy card, victim card or a trump card for personal fame?  Of all the insects in the world, why single out, an insect like me to be your torch bearer? If you have cared to read current research paper on cockroaches of my lineage have been selected and fitted with a suit, oxygen supply and instruments to function as an underwater cybots, you would not have done this. I am permitted to have drainpipe dreams, can you live with pipe dreams?

A child in despair speaks: 353

 My grandson came home from school minus his usual cheer and bounce. Concerned, I enquired, “What is worrying you? Why the sad face?”

“The thought why should I continue education, if it is not of any help in my future aspirations?”

This reply was like a primed dynamite among RDX explosives. To get to the bottom of the matter, I asked, “Why you feel so? Education is supposed to shape your future, and now why you have doubts?”

He started, “Grandpa, I have to study more languages now, with textbooks written to college standards. There are the usual subjects along with history and geography, as civics or by whatever name, where will be enthusiasm to study new languages knowing fully well that all of them will not be helpful to students planning to study engineering, medicine, architecture, astronomy, mathematics, or any other branch of science?”

In a conciliatory tone I told, “I agree that languages should be like a buffet arrangement. Individuals can choose and pick to his or her liking. Having had it without complications, those behind this loading of languages on students want to have their day of glory. 

It is unfortunate for the language as well as the students. But I disagree on the point that learning additional languages has no future benefit though I have to agree with you on the level of textbooks prescribed which only frightens the learner.

The blame is on those who stand behind in pushing the languages through, no matter what, and on those authors chosen for writing the textbooks to high standards. It did not matter to them, if the students have already set their minds on courses other than literature. The issue is like dropping milligrams of carbon black in milk and then trying to restore the milk to its natural colour.”

“Grandpa, did I not say that there is no use in learning more languages when it does not align with my future ambitions? Am I to go to the stone ages? What they want me to become – a novelist, teacher or a pencil pusher in an office? You know, today even a pencil pusher must use AI, python, backchain etc.”

This kid was like a boiling liquid. Unless the source of heat is removed it will cool not down. So, instead of advice and explanations, I asked him to sit with me and listen to what I have to say about a language. I made it clear that what I was about to tell him is solely for the purpose of exploring its history and enjoy its beauty and versatility. I left the choice with him to choose or give it a pass.

Still frustrated, he reluctantly nodded, which I could have easily missed had I not been watching for it. Having set up the stage, I started presenting my thoughts in the hope that at least he might begin to appreciate what makes a language to tick.

“Since the first cry of human beings occurred a very long time ago, there are certain logical boxes that need inspection. Who let out the first cry – a newborn, toddler, child, adult and of which gender?  Who tutored - nature, animals or birds? Did the cry was pre-recorded in the DNA of the human being? In the absence of a definite clue, the un-ticked logic boxes point to the unknown origins and remains as an enigma!

Countless millennia ago, the first human cry, an audio that disturbed the air waves on our planet. Like "doctors sans frontiers", it was a word without alphabets. With their focus only on survival, the hunting and gathering food or defending against enemies, our ancestors just stopped short with what we today call as phonics!  Guided by evolutionary pressure, they jumped the alphabet queue to invent verbal-verbs, combining them with sounds and hand signals. 

Our ancestors and their rudimentary vocabulary of audio-words kept evolving continuously. Many millennia later, they tried their hands in pictorial representations. With no pressure to explicitly bring out their socio-cultural leanings, they took some more time to plant the seeds to grow the nascent crop of alphabets.

The labour of countless minds, hands and assorted writing mediums- from granite to papyrus, resulted in crude forms of alphabets. Probably, thinking that a group of alphabets might stand a good chance of survival with bargaining power, they devised a clever scheme with vowels and consonants.

Still afraid of the unknown, the alphabets decided to combine in as many random ways as possible to live in safety. This cocktail gave birth to words. The life of the words got a little complicated as dictated by etymology, spelling and phonetics. Sensing the danger of having limited utility as a verb or noun or number, the stand-alone words decided to admit pronouns, adjectives, adverbs articles and prepositions into their fold.

Imaginatively, they added many hyphenated words and even bent their backs to get contracted, abbreviated as acronyms and initials or other surgical strikes to increase their utility value.  What else could they do? They opted for a group defense strategy by agreeing to be governed by syntax, grammar! These rules governing the formation of sentences infringed upon their freedom, but did they not find the safety now!

Tentatively, they attempted to befriend with – 1^st, 2^nd and 3^rd person, degrees of comparison, gender indicators, idioms and phrases, punctuation marks and so on to form simple, complex or compound sentences.

These newly minted sentences marvelled at the transformation and happily invited punctuation marks for company, even if powerful enough to stop them in their strides! After stocking and packing with these essentials, the journey of sentences began with the toddlers, beginners, adults, teachers, writers and professionals. The words and sentences became proud to be associated with the works of professionals as they come up with acronyms, every day!

My grandson broke silence and said, “When young, I had difficulty in recognising the alphabets and you forced me to trace them over again and again, till I could write them with reasonable resemblance. Then heard your lectures about not choosing the correct verb or noun or forgetting the punctuation marks while forming a sentence. 

But my point is, our ancestors struggled to discover an identity and I am struggling to retain my choice.” From his comment I understood that the pot is still hot and he had just posted the ‘handle with care’ notice.

With a gentle tone, I continued, “Whatever be the language it has a soul and never fails to touch the hearts of the users. This they could do only by absorbing and evolving. From the first cry to this day, the language has taken phenomenal strides to expand its vocabulary. Literally, it is eagerly waiting to express its thanks to anyone who coins a new word with a light-year wide smile! 

The language happily accepts infiltrating foreign words and allows its own to emigrate!” 

Commenting, my grandson said, “You have painted a beautiful verbal picture though I am not very about your message. 

Sensing the sign that the boiling pot has begun to cool down, I continued, “Though bound by many constraints, the language has found a way to put the gag order on the user. There are rules governing its usage. It is a clever tale of twisting the tail and taming the tiger! The written or spoken words are ticking bombs primed to go. The power of words gets unleashed, limited only by the imaginative way they are used. 

The emotionless words while describing bravery and cowardice, joy and sadness, hope and despair, compassion and cruelty can go histrionic to leave a reader in tears. 

If used without weighing the consequences, a difference becomes a conflict; a glib talk becomes a deception; a war cry leads to destruction and despair. As a container gives shape to a liquid, thoughts and expressions of an user shapes the language. Unwittingly, our ancestors might have anticipated this potential hazard and happily conducted their survival business with their rudimentary language! 

It seems that the first cry that disturbed the air waves has not fallen into deaf ears, is it not?”

Grandpa, my problem is, the ‘burdened languages’ will not be rudimentary in textbooks and why am I being made to echo that first cry you are very fond of mentioning?” 

I continued, “But the language did not sit idle and cry. Absorbing new roots and words, it flourished to earn wider following. This did not happen easily as it had to bend its backs to compete and come out as a winner in the fields of literature, science and technology by enriching itself with newer words every year. The fiction writers used invented words in their plots, even before those concepts and technologies came into existence. 

Science & Technology invented processes for those concepts and gladly used those words to describe them.  The language is not only beautiful but a powerful driver of inventions also! A case of fiction becoming real. 

WE are heroes in our own stories, but the word is a hero in everyone's story.  If it had not come out of wilderness and today, we will be in wilderness without words!”

My grandson sat listening in rapt attention, without interrupting me. I took it as a positive sign that he had started thinking with a favourable outlook. His next words punctured that balloon.

He said, “Along with the early humans, a language also had to suffer with frustration to evolve and survive. But where is logic in making students like me, with future visions, to suffer with languages suggested without taking into account the aspirations of my generation? When two itself is considered to be a crowd, will I not be facing a stampede to learn 3 or 4 languages?

I agree that the word is a hero for coming out of wilderness, but that does not mean I should be cast in the wildernesses of new languages. I am prepared to study hard to realise my ambitions but why to make it harder to achieve? Think of the mental pressure applied by my future-worried parents, who think it is necessary to have a head start. 

The axe will fall on sports activities, hobbies and instead coaching classes and yoga gets the green light, to squeeze the daylight hours out of my control.”

I wanted to tell him “If you don’t get what you like start liking what you got” but he had already left me to ponder ‘where are we all going with this MLS (multiple language’s syndrome)?’.  I realised that this boiling pot has still some more heat to give off. Yet, hope always has a chance. In spite of saying all these, my grandson will go to school as usual.  I sat thinking about an equitable solution for this academic quagmire.