Turning 54 on a Rainy Day !

A few years back, a brilliant artist friend of mine, Dhanaraj Keezhara did a celestially beautiful painting series. He called it “I shall die in a heavy rain”. It’s a metaphor, but things could get literal, the way it has been raining in Kerala, and especially in Karakulam, where I have my earthly little jail, I am locked in, most of these days, voluntarily, in fear of a tiny little non-living piece of a creature. 
And here, today, I turned 54. That fortunately is not a metaphor. I did, and have crawled my way into the mid 50’s.  The morning got me a few good birthday wishes, almost all virtually. Thanks to everybody. I am wishing for more of them. It gives me that feeling of “you are still remembered”. Even I was reminded by facebook, and so owe my birthday to Zuckerberg (no offence meant to my parents, my father is no more, and my mother does not read english!). One friend called me all the way from somewhere in America. I apologise for not remembering where he called from. Most of my friends who live in America live there, and that’s all. Remembering where friends actually live shouldn’t anymore be expected from us, mid-fiftians (English Profs, pardon me),  especially when the last 20 months of pandemic and the 6 months of spread-out monsoons, or to be more precise, just heavy rains, have numbed that part of the brain, and perhaps the heart! So, one is left with a little less of remembering and less of empathy! We are detached! At 54, in these times, expect that from us!
So, before I go about completing this journal note on my own birthday, here is a caveat, please, please do not consider this as self-indulgence. It looks like it. It is not, I vouch, it’s serious.
So, what’s the bleak picture all about- the metaphor of dying? The virus that is on us has evolved x number of times. Yes, the scientists are clueless, the numbers they throw around is because they dont have a time machine. We, engineers have one. So, when we don’t know, we use ‘x”, which in the colloquial “is a number” (for mallus this translates to “oru number aanu”). Meanwhile, forget “x”, we human beings have not evolved in these times, even once. We were expected to- ecologically, economically, socially, politically, responsibly, even reproductively - evolve and fit sensibly into the earth. But, after 20 months of a pandemic, 3 peaks done, more than 266 million affected, 5.2 million dead, we are “business as usual”. Extract more, produce more, exploit more, buy more, travel more, dump more, pollute more and possibly even reproduce more! 
And then in my little state, Kerala, at the deep south end of the Indian peninsula, which has the sea on both sides and the Indian ocean below, with the only land across Srilanka happens to be Antartica; it’s oceans all around. We live on the edge. And it’s rains all through. We have had unprecedented, erratic and strange rains, that have no time borders. Scientists say the Arabian sea is heating up,and like never before. We had atleast eight cyclonic activities there, where we never had even one. And whenever the Bay of Bengal gets a cyclonic activity, we in Kerala get rains, deluge and landslides. Infact, some of those cyclones even crossed the peninsula. Climate Lunacy,I call that.  
I actually feel the oceans traversing over the peninsula like an atmospheric river, that breaks the dam over our heads, every now and then and drenches us in flashes. It’s not cats and dogs anymore! Looks like the dinosaur is here. Talking of metaphors, that is a better one. Climate Change is a dinosaur, we better don’t have in our rooms!
And what’s the rossy picture? I turned 54. I did not die in the heavy rain, nor by the virus. I could have. I have turned dark brown in the face, white on my head and peppered in the beard. I still have most of my friends intact, though I lost some of my family! I am still of adequate irritant value to those who don’t have the time machine, and hence continue to read the signs wrong, or so I believe. I have grown more passionate over time, but less of grit and energy. Yes, exactly like that Norwegian study that was reported in “The Guardian” last year of people at, guess where, 54!. I have less to do with the public nowadays. I sleep more, watch movies, eat better and love things that have no value for others. I try writing articles and most of them never get finished. The lucky ones get published.  Among the non-living things, the antique excite me, the new is boring. And for the living, it’s the other way round ! I don’t pick up all my calls. I wait and see whether the ring stops, and then I pick it up. This gives me a sadist delight. Some lucky ones get my call back. Most lucky ones don’t. 
But the young ones, surely get back my call. Because, they make me feel old and grand. Like one of those 20-something brand new friend of mine from Mumbai greets me today , “Happy Birthday unclelish grandfather”. Let me reply to that grand daughter of mine, says me!
Happy Birthday to the 54! On a rainy day!