My experiments to mute the words!

Emotions best display their power when they are exhibited – in fiction as in life-for their value is apt to be lost in the telling. We all as humans only try hard to use language to be a mirror that could reflect the world around us but not one that could articulate it. The essence of a world we go through and the essence of our thought I believe cannot be understood by talking about but can only be shown. Now, do I sound like a no-go with words! A pessimist ? A total loser with ‘words’? Well, ‘Words are all I have’ and for me to say it in my post where I’m honest, it’s a total misnomer to say that talking doesn’t help. But let me put an argument before I stash the argument as a no-go.

A philosophical try…The relationship between our language and the world it pictures cannot itself be stated in language. There is one thing in the world that a picture cannot depict- and that is itself. If we were to take a painting of a pipe and wrote on it, “This is a picture of a pipe” we would be going outside the pictorial form. If on the other hand, we were to regard the writing as just another part of the painting, it would stand in need of interpretation just as much as the rest of the picture too begs an interpretation. We would need to inscribe a further statement on the painting to say what the writing was doing- and then we would be back to the same problem again. This is because truth is not intrinsic to pictures; rather, it is something a picture gains by virtue of its relation to something else-something outside itself-namely the state of affairs it represents. Whatever goes on within the picture is just more picture-which we can hold up against the world to see if it is accurate or not. So the addendum,  “This is a picture of a pipe” would have to be similarly held up. Needless to now say, we cannot hold a picture up against itself, as it would be no different to simply looking at the picture!! Likewise, language is a form of depiction, the same limitations apply to the words, which may represent how I feel in reality, but cannot represent what they have in common with reality in order to be able to represent it. If we tried doing this with words we would only produce more language, just as we produce more picture by directly writing on the painting. So say less or nothing at all! Like this picture...

So much hasn't been said about the way we turned the pencil to bring the right song on! Yet I haven't said it all! Because we all turned the pencil in the cassette with a different purpose or feeling!

So you see what can’t be said can’t be said and it can’t be hummed or can’t be whistled either. The limitations of explicit assertion are evident in everyday life. The fact that we as people see that we water down a thought or simply underplay or completely distort what we actually feel by putting things in words! I believe, where talk is cheap, thoughts are worthless. Similarly, where thoughts are worth a great deal- it reveals the similar limitations of any statement that proposes to express ‘great’ truths such as the nature of God or the value of human life or the problems of climate change or a bad government or just how I feel! Whenever, there is representation, the most important truths will be the ones that can only be shown and not stated. Wow, that was my best try with what I want to say with the WORDS I had!

Just play...

It all started with appa taking me to ‘Popli Bros’ one sunny Saturday afternoon, the only famous sports shop in Madurai. He wanted to get himself a Yonex badminton racquet as he wanted to bring that into his week end routine. It was a Saturday family affair. It was the time when Coats got a new indoor court neatly done for the club members. Dad forced me to buy one too. I was quite happy with my wooden frame racquet that had undergone gutting and re-gutting by Mari Sir(The tennis , billiards and badminton coach for the campus). A talented coach who played tirelessly with all of us. There was a single court in the indoor enclosure built and did not have a parquet finish too. My mom accompanied us with her sari and sat there extremely proud that her husband played  my brother and me on one side single-handedly. Of course we let her play a game with appa and she did a decent job of it. Well, badminton runs in the family. She had played it during her college times. Not a great player but must state that at 64 she still takes the racquet from us and plays a bit! That’s what sports does to people, I believe. Keeps us young, trying, passionate and interested!

My friends and me would start at about 2:30pm(an hour after lunch) and keep on playing doubles/singles matches continuously. The aunties came in at 4:00pm. We were normally called to play the doubles. The court management now would undergo a change. We guys always took the back court when we played with the aunties. For the 6 games they played on an average they brought with them juices and cheese sandwiches. Now! While they gossiped and snacked, we would quickly squeeze a game or two.  Life was about snatching the right moment to play out!  One of us would sheepishly ask for permission before jumping in for a game (mostly it was me!) After the ladies went away  a few more games later came the uncles of the colony. Wow that’s when we get to hear the feathered cock zoom past the nets with an adorable hiss  that we so love hitting but never managed much. It’s the power with which they played. Sometimes(just sometimes!), we were called to join in and of course without doubt our job was to now guard the net part in front (they were playing  doubles and yet we didn’t spoil their game). There was a big ‘Seiko’ clock that hung from the wall there. My eyes would keep darting to it to keep a tab on the time. At about 6:25 pm I need to stop playing and run. Now does this sound like Cinderella running home at 12 midnight from the ball? While she left her shoe behind, it felt like I left my passion behind every time I ran that way!

There were times when I played on as my heart said so. Just defy it! I would tell myself .  I know I will go home to face my patti’s ‘archanai’!  I will have to face the consequences of my own actions was an early lesson learned . I would cast a glance at appa for some support and all he would ever do is just look away into his Readers’ Digest! Patti will go on and on about how ‘unfeminine’ my attitude is becoming by playing like this(Play according to her was associated to her son and granson you see! Its a gender thing btw:)) and when time has to be kept, how indisciplined I am! ‘ When the pooja light is on at 6:30 pm, you should be at home to quickly light the Tulsi light’ , she would go on and on! I can still quote her words in Tamil even today! No innovation …it was the same tone and use of words too! Later that night , during dinner, appa would emphasize that when we meant to play more than the stipulated time, we must inform patti before going! That’s the lamest thing I heard as these are unplanned moments! Of course an argument about how I feel when I JUST play ;I was only 30 mins later than him ; how a game cannot be interrupted ; about my passion to play on to complete the game etc will happen! He will hear me out and will let me have my last word and then ask me about the last game and its scores! Its like heaven smiled at me at that moment as he is telling me(without spelling that out)..’Ok ok I buy that argument but patti needs to know you respect her words’! So you see I light the Tulsi lamp too by 6:50 pm! DONE! I kind of make a big loud proclamation of that on such days! ;)You can still hear her in the background about how easily my dad is letting me go off with the latecoming and my justifications! Sigh!

How the feather got stuck in electric wires when we played outside the house ...nothing changed since the times we played with the wooden racquet!

The Tulsi mutt that got me into a lot of trouble with patti:)

Many things make sense. We all grow up with very unique passions, sometimes with strong likes and dislikes towards the happenstances and no matter what parents/grandparents say to get us straightened up to their likes, we still continue to do it. Any form of sport  has that capacity to stir that kind of passion too! And so I believe that they understand that somewhere deep down and that is why they let us be! Beyond the bickering and nagging of Tulsi lamp lighting nothing was done to curb that passion of mine. And that is why I still play the game with the same zest,that has remained untouched and undisturbed!