It has been quite sometime since we had an informative post for our ardent readers.

What better way to break the writers block than to post … An Indian Diary -As on Economist.com

It is nice to see that we(Indians) are making news all across the globe (based on my personal experience watching the new on all the different languages i.e., Norwwgian, French, German, Swedish, English, Italian, Polish, Russian, Finnish and few more where I was not able to decipher the language). Indians are not only making news on IT but other regular jobs. Hail India… Vandemataram.

This link will provide you and insight of how people around the world think about India as a growing economy.

Merry X-Mas!!! ho ho ho

Aged around 50 years or so, a balding head, wearing dhoti and a checked shirt with a pair of spectacles balanced on his nose. Who is this? This is you, this is me. This is the ‘Common Man’ epitomised by the great Indian cartoonist, R. K. Laxman. For years, we have woken up with the cartoon of the common page dutifully occupying his corner of the front-page of newspapers. His uninterrupted appearance has been a source of inspiration for many, a light at the end of dark-tunnel during the tough so cial times. He has been a mute spectator of all events, whether elections, scandals or plain homely domesticity. In his silence, we find an alert individual with endurance and perhaps the helplesness of the larger scale happenings. His voice is never heard. Yet, his presence signifies his attention to all events. He represents us all.

Usually, we associate cartoons with childhood and innocence. The cartoon world is one where humans and animals co-exist, the laws of physics are blatantly violated and humour is a key ingredient. It is a beautiful world devoid of tragedy and pain. For some of these reasons, cartoons have a universal appeal. R. K. Laxman’s cartoons depart from few of these characteristics, in the sense that his world of cartoons is realistic, inhabited by Indians and reflects the everyday situations that we encounter on the streets, market-places and in offices.

R. K. Laxman was born in 1924 in the cultural city of Mysore, the youngest of eight children. He graduated from the prestigious Maharaja College of Mysore. He started off his career as a cartoonist in 1947. He soon joined the Times of India and started the cartoon series ‘You said it’ through which the Common Man became a famed character. He has published several cartoon collections. He has also written few short-stories, essays, travelogues and novels. Lately, he penned his autobiography ‘The Tunnel of Time’.

The rustic fragrance of the TV serial ‘Malgudi Days’ (written by R. K. Narayan, brother of R. K. Laxman) was enhanced by the cartoons accompanying the wonderful song at the beginning and end of the serial. As we got to see Swami playing hookey to laze around and got familiar with his antics, we realised how full of life the cartoons were. I still vividly remember the cartoons. Who can forget them?

R. K. Laxman pays great attention to details. The ambience of a particular situation is brought out magnificently through a few strokes of the pencil. The beauty and humour of his cartoons lies in its simplicity. He conveys the joys, the frustrations and fortitudes of the protagonist through this black and white medium of lines and curves. The humour exuding from a cartoon usually belongs to the protagonist. His most famous protagonist is, however, a mute listener and a spectator to the events (usually political satire), the details of which are expressively brought out. The effort is enterprising and commendable, not only for the choice of the medium (cartoonery) but also for the manner of expression.

R. K. Laxman cannot be called a cartoonist alone. He has played a larger role in awakening us to the social, political and bereaucratic tangles through his quiet humour. R. K. Laxman, has successfully managed to enthuse the people with humour about the mundane happenings. Some us have been numbed by the continuous flow of scandals and corruption to make us pessimists. His cartoons have brought hope and optimism to us. To those of us who have become lethargic, his cartoons have aroused us to play a more active role than be mere spectators. All this with a few curves and lines of a skilful hand and a sharp mind!

Vandemataram – 1876 September 7, a young man sitting in his home in Kanthalpura composed the patriotic song Vandemataram.  The song was written in highly sanskritized form of Bengali language and was part of his book Anandamatha. It seemed that Goddess Saraswati herself helped Bankim Chandra to write the song. The song touched the heart of millions at that time. It became the national cry for freedom from them.

It still infuses and touches our soul inside when it is sung. Watch again for passions to run high.

Watch and listen again.

Translation in English

Mother, I bow to thee!
Rich with thy hurrying streams,
bright with orchard gleams,
Cool with thy winds of delight,
Green fields waving Mother of might,
Mother free.

Glory of moonlight dreams,
Over thy branches and lordly streams,
Clad in thy blossoming trees,
Mother, giver of ease
Laughing low and sweet!
Mother I kiss thy feet,
Speaker sweet and low!
Mother, to thee I bow.

Who hath said thou art weak in thy lands
When the sword flesh out in the seventy million hands
And seventy million voices roar
Thy dreadful name from shore to shore?
With many strengths who art mighty and stored,
To thee I call Mother and Lord!
Though who savest, arise and save!
To her I cry who ever her foeman drove
Back from plain and Sea
And shook herself free.

Thou art wisdom, thou art law,
Thou art heart, our soul, our breath
Though art love divine, the awe
In our hearts that conquers death.
Thine the strength that nervs the arm,
Thine the beauty, thine the charm.
Every image made divine
In our temples is but thine.

Thou art Durga, Lady and Queen,
With her hands that strike and her
swords of sheen,
Thou art Lakshmi lotus-throned,
And the Muse a hundred-toned,
Pure and perfect without peer,
Mother lend thine ear,
Rich with thy hurrying streams,
Bright with thy orchard gleems,
Dark of hue O candid-fair

In thy soul, with jewelled hair
And thy glorious smile divine,
Loveliest of all earthly lands,
Showering wealth from well-stored hands!
Mother, mother mine!
Mother sweet, I bow to thee,
Mother great and free!