Heil Hitler..!!!!

Not being a professional historian, I take on this write-up with utmost admiration and a heart that shouts "Heil Hitler". That's because, although defeated, although dead, this man is incomprehensible for me. There isn’t any other leader who has fascinated me so much from my school days. And when I started to write a blog many of my friends thought that Aphorisms would be exclusively for preaching Nazism. It’s really a wonder why Hitler wasn’t mentioned in Aphorisms for this long. Something unknown for me too. But now, here it is. A space for the mightiest totalitarian ever. Adolf Hitler.

His oratory skills and the kind of leadership quality he possessed were always something I was in awe of. What was the secret of his power over his listeners? They spoke of his intuitive powers and his "luck" as he escaped several attempts on his life.

Adolf Hitler or the incarnation of absolute evil; this is how future generations will remember the all-powerful Fuhrer of the criminal Third Reich. Compared with him, his peers Mussolini and Franco were novices. Under his hypnotic gaze, humanity crossed a threshold from which one could see the abyss.

At the same time he knew how to please, impress and charm the very interlocutors from whom he wanted support. Diplomats and journalists insist as much on his charm as they do on his temper tantrums. The savior admired by his own as he dragged them into his madness, the Satan and exterminating angel feared and hated by all others, Hitler led his people to a shameful defeat without precedent. That his political and strategic ambitions have created a dividing line in the history of this turbulent and tormented century is undeniable: there is a before and an after.

How did this Austrian without title or position manage to get himself elected head of a German nation renowned for its civilizing mission?

Was there no resistance to his disastrous projects? There was. But it was too feeble, too weak and too late to succeed. German society had rallied behind him: the judicial, the educational, the industrial and the economic establishments gave him their support.

Few politicians of this century have aroused, in their lifetime, such love and so much hate; few have inspired so much historical and psychological research after their death. Even today, works on his enigmatic personality and his cursed career are best sellers everywhere. Some are good, others are less good, but all seem to respond to an authentic curiosity on the part of a public haunted by memory and the desire to understand.

We think we know everything about the nefarious forces that shaped his destiny: his unhappy childhood, his frustrated adolescence; his artistic disappointments; his wound received on the front during World War I; his taste for spectacle, his relationship with Eva Braun, who adored him; the cult of the very death he feared; his endless hatred of Jews, whose survival enraged him--each and every phase of his official and private life has found its chroniclers, its biographers.

The fact is that Hitler was beloved by his people--not the military, at least not in the beginning, but by the average Germans who pledged to him an affection, a tenderness and a fidelity that bordered on the irrational. It was idolatry on a national scale. One had to see the crowds who acclaimed him. And the women who were attracted to him. And the young who in his presence went into ecstasy. Did they not see the hateful mask that covered his face? Did they not divine the catastrophe he bore within himself?

It was enough to read Mein Kampf, written in prison: to become, once again, a global superpower, capable of reconquering lost territory and others as well.

And the free world let it happen.

His kingdom collapsed after 12 years in a war that remains the most atrocious, the most brutal and the deadliest in history. But which, by the same token, allowed several large figures to emerge. Their names have become legendary: Eisenhower, De Gaulle, Montgomery, Zhukov, Patton...

But when later we evoke the 20th century, among the first names that will surge to mind will be that of a fanatic with a mustache who thought to reign by selling the soul of his people to the thousand demons of hate and of death.

സുഭാഷിതം

ശക്തന്റെ തേര് ഉരുണ്ട വീഥികളിലൂടെ ആളൊഴിഞ്ഞ വെളുപ്പാങ്കലങ്ങളില്‍ "ഡൊ-ഡൊ-ഡൊ" ശബ്ദം മുഴക്കി ഞാന്‍ എന്റെ ബുള്ളെറ്റ് സ്റ്റാര്‍ട്ട്‌ ആക്കി പോകുമ്പോളൊക്കെ മനസ്സില്‍ തോന്നുന്ന ഒരു കാര്യം ഉണ്ട്.

മാളുകളും മള്‍ടിപ്ലെക്സുകളും  തിക്കും തിരക്കും, പിന്നെ പണ്ട് നമ്മുടെ മോഹന്‍ തോമസ്‌ പറഞ്ഞത് പോലെ കമ്പ്യൂട്ടറും ബ്ലുചിപ്പും കൊണ്ട് കളിക്കുന്ന കൊച്ചി തൊട്ടുള്ള നഗരങ്ങളെക്കാള്‍ എനിക്കിഷ്ടം പൂരത്തിന്ടെ ആവേശമുള്ള ആനപ്രേമികള്‍ തിങ്ങിപാര്‍ക്കുന്ന പാണ്ടിയും പഞ്ചാരിയും മുഴക്കുന്ന വടക്കുംനാഥന്റെ ആചാരവെടി കേട്ട് ഉണരുന്ന ഞാന്‍ സ്നേഹിക്കുന്നതിനേക്കാള്‍ എന്നെ സ്നേഹിക്കുന്ന ഞാന്‍ അറിയുന്നതിനേക്കാള്‍ എന്നെ അറിയുന്ന ശക്തന്‍ ഭരിച്ച വടക്കുംനാഥന്റെ ഈ മണ്ണാണ്....എന്റെ തൃശ്ശൂർ...

കഷ്ടിച്ച് രണ്ടര മാസങ്ങള്‍ക്ക് മുന്നെ ജോലി കഴിഞ്ഞു എറണാകുളത്തുനിന്നും വീട്ടിലേക്ക് വരും വഴി പറ്റിയ ഒരു അപകടത്തെ തുടര്‍ന്ന് പണിക്കു കയറ്റിയ എൻ്റെ ബുള്ളറ്റ് ഇന്നാണ് ഞാന്‍ പിന്നെ കാണുന്നത്. അവന്റെ രൂപത്തില്‍ ചില്ലറ മാറ്റങ്ങളൊക്കെ വന്നിട്ടുണ്ട്. രണ്ടര മാസങ്ങള്‍ക്ക് ശേഷം എന്നെ എന്നും ആവേശം കൊള്ളിച്ച  അവൻ്റെ ശബ്ദവും ഞാന്‍ ഇന്ന് കേട്ടു. 

ജീവന്‍ എന്ന് പറയുന്നത് മരണ  സമയത്ത് ശരീരത്തില്‍ നിന്നും പോകുന്ന ആ എന്തോ ഒന്ന് മാത്രമല്ല. ജീവിച്ചിരിക്കുമ്പോള്‍ നമ്മളെ നമ്മളായി മനസിലാക്കി ഒപ്പം നില്‍ക്കുന്ന ചുരുക്കം ചില ബന്ധങ്ങളിലെക്കും വ്യാപിച്ചു നില്‍ക്കുന്ന ഒന്നാണ്. അതു ചിലപ്പോള്‍ പേശികളാല്‍ നിര്‍മിക്കപെട്ട ഹൃദയമുള്ള മനുഷ്യരാകാം. മറ്റുചിലപ്പോള്‍ വാര്‍പ്പിരുമ്പില്‍ പണിഞ്ഞെടുത്ത  ഹൃദയമുള്ള  എന്റെ ബുള്ളെറ്റ് ആകാം.

ആ വീഥികള്‍ കാതിരുക്കും പോല്ലേ എനിക്ക് ചിലപ്പോള്‍ തോന്നാറുണ്ട്. എന്നെ തണുപ്പ് അണിയിക്കാന്‍ പറ്റാതെ നിരാശനായി മടങ്ങി പോകേണ്ടി വരുന്ന ആ വെളുപ്പന്കാലവും കാത്തിരിക്കുന്നതായി എനിക്ക് തോന്നാറുണ്ട്. പരുക്കില്‍ നിന്നും എഴുനേല്‍ക്കാന്‍ എനിക്ക് പ്രജോതനമേകുന്ന കാരണങ്ങള്‍ അനവധിയാണ്...

Mourning the death of hand writing..

I can't remember how to write a capital Z in cursive. The rest of my letters are shaky and stiff, my words slanted in all directions. It's not for lack of trying. I am a member of Gen Y, the generation that shunned cursive. And now there is a group coming after me, a boom of tech-savvy children who don't remember life before the Internet and who text-message nearly as much as they talk. They have even less need for good penmanship. We are witnessing the death of handwriting.

I think, it’s the people born after 1980 tend to have a distinctive style of handwriting: a little bit sloppy, a little bit childish and almost never in cursive. The knee-jerk explanation is that computers are responsible for our increasingly illegible scrawl. Today schoolchildren typically learn print in kindergarten, cursive in third grade. But they don't master either one. Over the decades, daily handwriting lessons are decreasing.

Handwriting has never been a static art. I remember we all were excited about the cursive form of writing when we started learning it. But the story ended once we left the classroom. we all go back to sloppy letters and squished words. Handwriting is becoming a lost art.

Why? Technology is only part of the reason. The cause of the decline in handwriting may lie not so much in computers.In schools today, they're teaching to the tests. If something isn't on a test, it's viewed as a luxury. It's getting harder and harder to balance what's on the test with the rest of what children need to know. Reading is on there, but handwriting isn't, so it's not as important. In other words, schools don't care how a child holds her pencil as long as she can read.

Is that such a bad thing? Except for physicians — whose illegible handwriting on charts and prescription pads causes thousands of deaths a year — penmanship has almost no bearing on job performance. And aside from the occasional grocery list or Post-it note, most adults write very little by hand. But with the declining emphasis in schools, neatness is becoming a rarity.I worry that cursive will go the way of Latin and that eventually we won't be able to read it.

I am not bothered by the fact that I will never have beautiful handwriting. We are living in the age of social networks and frenzied conversation, composing more e-mails, texting more messages and keeping in touch with more people than ever before. Maybe this is the trade-off. We've given up beauty for speed, artistry for efficiency. And yes, maybe we are a little bit lazy.

Revenge

“Last night I had a revelation

Somehow I have to make you pay

It's all about manipulation

And what it takes to get my way

I don't believe in soft solutions

No one makes a fool of me

Without receiving retribution

No one hurts me and goes free

I'll play on your fears, I'll leave you in tears

You'll never be the same, my friend

You're walking a line, it's a matter of time

You'll never rest easy again

I've got the power to bring you down

I've heard it said, to err is human

It's forgiveness that's divine

I thought about forgiving you, but

I want revenge, I want what's mine

I think it's time to settle scores now

It's time to set the record straight

You'll know it's coming, you won't know how

Or when, you'll have to watch and wait

I'll play on your fears, I'll leave you in tears

You'll never be the same, my friend

You're walking a line, it's a matter of time

You'll never rest easy again

I've got the power to bring you down

You know, it feels intoxicating

To be intimidating

It's invigorating

To see you shaking

I've got the power to bring you down

You know something, you see it coming,

You know I will stop at nothing.”

**********

At times… more frequent these days, my view of friendship is taking a different angle. Friends are good. They are like angels. But angels give fire less hot than that your enemies give. Enemies are not always the “eye-for-an-eye” type. Friends are angels in a good life. But enemies motivate to attain that good life.

Living a good life and having a smile one the face is the best and the most diplomatic of all forms of revenge I believe in for those who meet the standard to be your opponent. And IGNORE those who fail to rise up to you for a duel. Never waste time on them. Because time is what life is made up of.

Heaven is on earth when you melt the rendering of your revenge to a beautiful way of living. No bullshit!! No bloodshed!! Simple and easy living.