On one's own hook

One Christmas eve a very long time ago I was born piloting the arrival of the ‘King of Jews’ and perhaps my grandfather was the only one to picture my hello(read halo) through that crib . My grandfather , a pious man and a literary giant during his time must have had hallucinations of divinity encircling my crib and named me Jayadevan. Nobody has yet deciphered the true meaning of what my name implied and it got lost with him. God of victory,victory of God, or as my mother dismissed it ,a war cry..Victory to God!!!!…Har har Mahadev!!!!

Puny mortals!! They failed to see the aura within me and censored the God(Deva) from my name. I became Jayan for them. Jayan in Sanskrit means victorious, much akin to the Malayalam movie star who ruled the silver screen during the 70's. Jayan went north all guns blazing at the height of his career in a chopper crash .My mother was perturbed when one of my high school teachers signed “be a Jayan in life” in my autograph book .Jayan was a movie star who inspired and conjured superlative narrations by his fans for each of his daily mundane chores. He was definitely a step above God. Dang!!! that did it!!They had to change my name again!! This time it was Jay. A colourful and noisy bird of the crow family. This christening by my friends goes tortuously close to the truth and it still sticks today much to my chagrin.

I guess a change of name is in store when I turn taciturn and not so colourful, as years roll by. By hook or crook I want it to be something I cherish and acceptable to the serial name slayers. Crook is not what I am, so let there be a hook. Though Captain Hook sounded macho enough and arguably the most recognizable popular villains in DisneyWorld, I still didn’t want the sympathetic image of a pirate fighting Peter Pan hook me down.An extremely abbreviated form of my name looks like a plain hook  ‘J’which also happens to be pronounced as the noisy bird which I stand for. I believe that it’s the word hook which has impacted me throughout my life and will keep me inspired to live on, with hope, for a few more. I hereby christen myself J.Spare me some latitude here folks, for I could have gone with Jesus Menon for all I care.

It all started with me being “hooked off” my mother’s womb as a small ‘j’ and steadily on my way to achieve the capital status as I enjoy today.I remember being “hooked on” to my English teacher in the second grade which paved way to a series of “hook ups” in my life, allbut ending in hiccups. Finally after playing “hooky” with certain flair, J got floored by an “upper hook”. In short,its called marriage. We all try “hooking in” to what inspires us to chug along on“one’s own hook”. Casting a hook is what everyone does each moment of his life and wait with bated breath for the magic to happen but they are never branded “hookers”and only some get to adorn this odd badge of honour.

The safest and most respectable association of the hook is with fish and many a times I thought of ditching my architecture course to become a fisherman..the ultimate hooker. We were asked to submit our thesis subject by our HOD and this was the topic of discussion on the mess hall table that noon.My mind was elsewhere debating on the size of the sardines served on each plate and moaning about the raw deal I had on mine. My batch-mate,a native of Lakshadweep swore that he would choke me with fish if I could step with him on his island paradise. ‘Crude’ Mohammed as he was affectionately called was not mincing his words. I cast my first hook then and there…My thesis would be on this island of Bangaram which is uninhabited by the islanders except for a few small tourist huts operated by a private hotel chain.At a time where there was no google or much literature available, I trusted Crude to guide me through. The thesis topic was not even contested by Prof Oommen our HOD as he liked the wild spirit in me and I guess the first soul who really inspired me to “hook” away to glory. I set sail for Kavaratti in MV Bharatseema and the next few days were spent totally engrossed in snorkelling and going with ‘Crude’ on his boat Saddam to catch tuna in the open sea . The pole and line method of fishing is a joy to watch as you see  a rain of fish lashing onto the deck as the boys tug and pull in the catch.The boat get filled up in a jiffy as we cross over a shoal guided by the flying terns above.On another trip I got to see a huge school of dolphins dancing around the boat and springing out of the water so as to  greet me . There was death in the family the next day and we had to set sail for Agatti which was a cool 60 kms away in the dead of the night.Crude stood behind  the rudder , watching his compass all through so that we don’t accidentally drift away.The ocean trench is around two kilometres deep and it was a spiritual ride for an agnostic to be absolutely overawed by nature in this  25 foot puny fishing boat.The pale moonlit sky,the chugging of the motor and the occasional  flutter of flying fish were the only comforting factors that kept me from freaking out. Bangaram was a satellite island 16 kms off Agatti .I was not given permission to go land there and all I got to do was to circle the island in the boat ,which is just around 300 acres in area.In short I cooked up a thesis without ever stepping on the island ,notwithstanding the fact that I found the island too fragile for man-made interventions. The external critic who came for the viva voce asked me just one question as he was mystified by the stories which I served along with my technical sheets. “How do I get there?” It was a breeze. Stone me now if you care, but that trip taught me more about life than doing a million thesis for academic gratification.  The respect for the delicate balance between man and nature,the islanders living by the dictum “Less is More”, absence of crime and their cheerful disposition humbled me beyond words. Thomas More might have been an islander in his previous life to coin ‘Utopia’ in his 1516 book.

 As an architect I believe that your sensibilities should be varied and in a way spontaneous to find a way to appreciate your client’s heart.I know it’s a dangerous venture to take a step into everything that catches your imagination.I was seriously ‘hooked’ on to fish. That single aspect of mine paved the way to latch on to many other passions as time went on. At this age I am learning the guitar,try my hand at singing,aspire to be a chef,got my scuba diving licence,love kayaking and open water swimming,a little blogging ,vegetable gardening and many more but most of all…..juggling with a sweetheart who is Marathi and trying our best to knit a fabric of ‘Indian’ness to my friends around. You can aspire to be the greatest in whatever profession you are in and be content with it or hook your claws into  unique flights of fancy and follow your heart. Go for your hooks and just do it!!!!!