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All my tears had to do with Onions.
While I was a Reluctant Bachelor at IIT KGP for 14 lo..oong years I had to resort to survival-cooking for 7 years from the time I was kicked out of the Faculty Hostel till I could find a wife who didn't like my cooking.
Every cook knows that Onion is the friend of all vegetables unlike Tomato which is their Universal Enemy.
A delicately fried Onion added to anything and eaten at once adds its glorious flavor to insipid but inexpensive vegetables like Cabbage, Cauliflower and of course Onion's Bosom Friend: Potato.
On the other hand Tomato, with its ruddy indelible color and sneaking juice, masks the delicious taste of Country Vegetables like the Brinjal (Egg Plant), Ladyfingers, and Karyala (Bitter Gourd).
Mix Onion and Tomato and fry and the result is like the mixture of an Acid and a Base...they neutralize one another producing salt and water...an altogether new product resembling neither.
Anyway, no novice can cut Onions without shedding copious ears.
The experts know there are ways out:
http://www.wikihow.com/Chop-Onions-Without-Tears:
This website lists 13 antidotes, from wearing contact lenses to lighting a candle, explaining the complicated chemistry involved; all of them impractical when you want your cooking, bathing, eating and snoozing done within the Lunch Hour.
Soon after my marriage my wife had to taste my cooking during her Hyperemesis Gravidarum (morning sickness). That was a strong incentive for her quick recovery (She found that my cooking aided and abetted her Hyperemesis like breeze to a blaze).
So nowadays my contact with the Holy Onion is confined to shopping (which my wife refuses to do).
And that brings tears to my eyes (like in Oh My Darling, Oh My Darling, Oh My Darling, Clementine!):
Then the miner forty-niner
He began to weep and pine
For his darling little daughter
Now he's with his Clementine
He began to weep and pine
For his darling little daughter
Now he's with his Clementine
A kilo of Onions are selling at a whopping Rs 60!!!
****************************************************************************
Mankind (unlike the Womankind) are not easily reduced to a public display of tears.
There is no doubt that shedding tears is an emotional outlet while inability to do so can sit heavy on the heart.
At KGP I was a witness to the cremation of a woman whose husband was watching it stoically silent. A Dr Know-All from the audience came to me and asked me to slap the husband so he could cry and release his pent-up emotions before they destroyed him.
My internal response was: "You do it first!" much like that Sardarjee of Raamda told his innocent white lady co-passenger who requested him to show "pecchab karneki jagah": "Pehle too dikha!"
I also watched the cremation of another lady whose husband was shedding copious tears all through the 4 hour-combustion (he ill-treated his nice wife who died young throughout their brief marriage).
My HM Father would beat me black & blue mercilessly on some flimsy grounds such as not doing my impossibly intricate Profit & Loss sums right; and then is reported to enter the kitchen and cry to my mom (what is the good of crying over spilt milk?)...I never cried because I got reconciled early to my allergy to Profit & Loss to this day....the Autocrat said famously: "Don't put your trust in Money..put your Money in Trust".
So, my thesis is that male tears show nothing: don't be deceived by them.
Men are like are the Walruses of Alice feasting on poor Oysters:
I must say that all tear-jerkers belong to one or the other of these emotions; I mean each of these emotions can evoke different kinds tears if done right; some from the inner corners of the eyes, some from the outer, and others from all along them like those induced by glycerin on film starlets'.
************************************************************************************************
I thought Sardarjee Males, being the epitomes of Bravery and Swordsmanship, carrying their kirpan always with them even in Canada, wouldn't show their tears in public.
But MSS (the only Sardrajee in our Phy Faculty at KGP, who was my other Guru in Physics) told me that he used always to wonder, when he visited his rural home town in Punjab, watching males and females both cry like babies when a soulful episode of Ramayan (of all Hindu things) was narrated by a consummate Male Performer who himself would break down often.
And I saw tears in MSS's own eyes in the aftermath of Operation Blue Star...
*************************************************************************************************
Time to get down to Brass Tacks:
I am a cynic as well as a student of Physics...a deadly Queen-Bishop combination against any tendency for tears welling up.
Cynicism (that you would have noticed in the above paragraphs) is typified by trashing the notorious Maternal Instinct by narrating the Controlled Experiment on Chimpanzee & her Baby, where the Mother Chimp and her infant son are placed in a tub into which water is gradually poured: It was observed that the mom holds her baby high up above her head till the water level reaches her nose, after which suddenly the mom chimp throws down her babe at her feet and stands on him.
Any student of Physics (and Cosmology which is now taught even in Class X) can only conclude that the whole thing we call the World and the Story of its Residents is at best a Poor Joke and at worst a Farce.
But I have read the news item that a mom cat rescued all her six kittens one by one from a burning building and then succumbed to her burns.
So, maybe cynicism is not an absolute cred and maybe there is something called love hereunder.
Nor our Great Cosmologists above human emotions...I read that Edwin Hubble, driving down from his Mt Wilson Observatory after taking his sumptuous readings in fine weather, used to smirk in glee if he noticed a huge cloud cover gathering when his rival was going up for his whole-night work...
******************************************************************************************************
Soon after my retirement, from 2005 to 2007, I was down in the dumps and could neither read nor write; and gave up all hopes in that direction.
But when Sayan asked me to write a 'Piece' on SDM for (the now defunct) Ansatz, I thought it was impossible.
But my son and my wife who were tending to me for two hopeless years encouraged me to try.
I sat down in front of my son's keyboard and tried fingering.
The whole 17-page SDM Homage Document poured out from nowhere overnight.
In the broad and stark daylight of the next morning, I read it and was convinced that I am on my U-Turn, and there would be no looking back.
I then badly wanted to have a look at my Redeemer SDM after 30 odd years and asked Shyamal if he could hunt down Mampi in Calcutta, SDM's only daughter, who sat in my Class for a couple of semesters at IIT KGP, and after whom I titled an entire Chapter in my Homage: "Mampi & Angular Momentum"; and show the Manuscript of my Homage and get a photo or two of SDM for Ansatz to accompany the Article.
Shyamal being Shyamal, he did it in no time and reported that Mampi said: "lekhata bhheeshon bhaalo hoyechey"; and gave him the color family photo that graces this Blog Post.
Noblesse Oblige! Thanx!
==============================================================
****************************************************************************
Mankind (unlike the Womankind) are not easily reduced to a public display of tears.
There is no doubt that shedding tears is an emotional outlet while inability to do so can sit heavy on the heart.
At KGP I was a witness to the cremation of a woman whose husband was watching it stoically silent. A Dr Know-All from the audience came to me and asked me to slap the husband so he could cry and release his pent-up emotions before they destroyed him.
My internal response was: "You do it first!" much like that Sardarjee of Raamda told his innocent white lady co-passenger who requested him to show "pecchab karneki jagah": "Pehle too dikha!"
I also watched the cremation of another lady whose husband was shedding copious tears all through the 4 hour-combustion (he ill-treated his nice wife who died young throughout their brief marriage).
My HM Father would beat me black & blue mercilessly on some flimsy grounds such as not doing my impossibly intricate Profit & Loss sums right; and then is reported to enter the kitchen and cry to my mom (what is the good of crying over spilt milk?)...I never cried because I got reconciled early to my allergy to Profit & Loss to this day....the Autocrat said famously: "Don't put your trust in Money..put your Money in Trust".
So, my thesis is that male tears show nothing: don't be deceived by them.
Men are like are the Walruses of Alice feasting on poor Oysters:
"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
.....These are shringara (love), hasya (laughter ), karuna (kind-heartedness or compassion), roudra (anger), veera (courage), bhayanaka (fear ), bheebhatsya (disgust), adbhutha (surprise) and shantha (peace or tranquility)................"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
As wise and smart a character as Sam Weller was taken for a unique ride by the frequent and copious tears of his sly opponent Job Trotter whom he variously calls a Pump, Injine, and Chelsea Water-works:
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....At these words, Mr Job Trotter inserted the end of the pink handkerchief into the corner of each eye , one after the other and began to weep copiously.
"Wot's the matter with the man," said Sam, indignantly. "Chelsea water-works is nothi' to you. What are you melting vith now? The consciousness o' willainy?"......
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
My wife's grandfather (80) was (unofficially) presiding over the solemn Impromptu 3rd Day Condolence Gathering of a dozen able-bodied men at my father-in-law's residence at Jalgaon from 8 AM to 2 PM, with innumerable cups of Tea served to order, despite which the Big Bad Wolf in our bellies was sending warning signals of starvation.
Finally word came from within the inner recesses of the house that lunch was ready.
Everyone felt embarrassed as to who would take the lead to such a carnal exhibition of hunger as that for food for the body, on such a soulful occasion.
The Grand Old Man broke the ice with a sigh: "Let us go in and have our food....we need energy even to mourn!".
After a hearty meal everyone slept soundly except me who ran away to book my return ticket to KGP pronto.
****************************************************************************************************
Our Ancient Indian Wisemen were experts in Taxonomy: they were adept at dividing any subject into its various parts and each part into sub-sub parts and so on and so on. But they rarely dealt with any subject scientifically in the sense of Controlled Experimental Physics & Chemistry...they were mostly speculating and philosophizing like the Greek Philosophers.
I was astonished to see a mention of Kanaada in Saha & Srivastava as the original proponent of Atomic Theory. Neither he nor his countrymen ever did and analyzed repeatable experiments with sensitive balances, test tubes, burettes, and pipettes or such devices of the sordid Analytical Chemistry (Quantitative), like say Dalton and Avagadro.
But they are poetic and romantic in their own studies in Taxonomy of Human Structure and Feelings.
Looking desperately for hard porn in my teens I purchased the famous Kama Sutra of Vatsayan. It was a terrible disappointment: it was all Taxonomy, little sex, and no mood-elevating photos.
So I dumped it.
But the most interesting Indian Taxonomy is that of Emotions; Rasas:
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
....At these words, Mr Job Trotter inserted the end of the pink handkerchief into the corner of each eye , one after the other and began to weep copiously.
"Wot's the matter with the man," said Sam, indignantly. "Chelsea water-works is nothi' to you. What are you melting vith now? The consciousness o' willainy?"......
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
My wife's grandfather (80) was (unofficially) presiding over the solemn Impromptu 3rd Day Condolence Gathering of a dozen able-bodied men at my father-in-law's residence at Jalgaon from 8 AM to 2 PM, with innumerable cups of Tea served to order, despite which the Big Bad Wolf in our bellies was sending warning signals of starvation.
Finally word came from within the inner recesses of the house that lunch was ready.
Everyone felt embarrassed as to who would take the lead to such a carnal exhibition of hunger as that for food for the body, on such a soulful occasion.
The Grand Old Man broke the ice with a sigh: "Let us go in and have our food....we need energy even to mourn!".
After a hearty meal everyone slept soundly except me who ran away to book my return ticket to KGP pronto.
****************************************************************************************************
Our Ancient Indian Wisemen were experts in Taxonomy: they were adept at dividing any subject into its various parts and each part into sub-sub parts and so on and so on. But they rarely dealt with any subject scientifically in the sense of Controlled Experimental Physics & Chemistry...they were mostly speculating and philosophizing like the Greek Philosophers.
I was astonished to see a mention of Kanaada in Saha & Srivastava as the original proponent of Atomic Theory. Neither he nor his countrymen ever did and analyzed repeatable experiments with sensitive balances, test tubes, burettes, and pipettes or such devices of the sordid Analytical Chemistry (Quantitative), like say Dalton and Avagadro.
But they are poetic and romantic in their own studies in Taxonomy of Human Structure and Feelings.
Looking desperately for hard porn in my teens I purchased the famous Kama Sutra of Vatsayan. It was a terrible disappointment: it was all Taxonomy, little sex, and no mood-elevating photos.
So I dumped it.
But the most interesting Indian Taxonomy is that of Emotions; Rasas:
I must say that all tear-jerkers belong to one or the other of these emotions; I mean each of these emotions can evoke different kinds tears if done right; some from the inner corners of the eyes, some from the outer, and others from all along them like those induced by glycerin on film starlets'.
************************************************************************************************
I thought Sardarjee Males, being the epitomes of Bravery and Swordsmanship, carrying their kirpan always with them even in Canada, wouldn't show their tears in public.
But MSS (the only Sardrajee in our Phy Faculty at KGP, who was my other Guru in Physics) told me that he used always to wonder, when he visited his rural home town in Punjab, watching males and females both cry like babies when a soulful episode of Ramayan (of all Hindu things) was narrated by a consummate Male Performer who himself would break down often.
And I saw tears in MSS's own eyes in the aftermath of Operation Blue Star...
*************************************************************************************************
Time to get down to Brass Tacks:
I am a cynic as well as a student of Physics...a deadly Queen-Bishop combination against any tendency for tears welling up.
Cynicism (that you would have noticed in the above paragraphs) is typified by trashing the notorious Maternal Instinct by narrating the Controlled Experiment on Chimpanzee & her Baby, where the Mother Chimp and her infant son are placed in a tub into which water is gradually poured: It was observed that the mom holds her baby high up above her head till the water level reaches her nose, after which suddenly the mom chimp throws down her babe at her feet and stands on him.
Any student of Physics (and Cosmology which is now taught even in Class X) can only conclude that the whole thing we call the World and the Story of its Residents is at best a Poor Joke and at worst a Farce.
But I have read the news item that a mom cat rescued all her six kittens one by one from a burning building and then succumbed to her burns.
So, maybe cynicism is not an absolute cred and maybe there is something called love hereunder.
Nor our Great Cosmologists above human emotions...I read that Edwin Hubble, driving down from his Mt Wilson Observatory after taking his sumptuous readings in fine weather, used to smirk in glee if he noticed a huge cloud cover gathering when his rival was going up for his whole-night work...
******************************************************************************************************
Soon after my retirement, from 2005 to 2007, I was down in the dumps and could neither read nor write; and gave up all hopes in that direction.
But when Sayan asked me to write a 'Piece' on SDM for (the now defunct) Ansatz, I thought it was impossible.
But my son and my wife who were tending to me for two hopeless years encouraged me to try.
I sat down in front of my son's keyboard and tried fingering.
The whole 17-page SDM Homage Document poured out from nowhere overnight.
In the broad and stark daylight of the next morning, I read it and was convinced that I am on my U-Turn, and there would be no looking back.
I then badly wanted to have a look at my Redeemer SDM after 30 odd years and asked Shyamal if he could hunt down Mampi in Calcutta, SDM's only daughter, who sat in my Class for a couple of semesters at IIT KGP, and after whom I titled an entire Chapter in my Homage: "Mampi & Angular Momentum"; and show the Manuscript of my Homage and get a photo or two of SDM for Ansatz to accompany the Article.
Shyamal being Shyamal, he did it in no time and reported that Mampi said: "lekhata bhheeshon bhaalo hoyechey"; and gave him the color family photo that graces this Blog Post.
Noblesse Oblige! Thanx!
==============================================================
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