Monday, November 16, 2009

Human Settlement & Maldives

Cowrie shells, mainly sourced from Maldives, used to be the currency in Asia, many African settlements and some other parts of the ancient world. With the remains of these shells in ruined settlements and by other ancient sources we now know that human settlement is evident on Maldivian soil since antiquity. Survival depends on a lot of factors. We are here after those many struggles by our ancestors.
Sea is an important means at all times. The ancient seafaring cultures sailed through and some willingly or by wreck settled here. When they came a people were living here. Many different traders and tribes slowly merged into the community. With the mix of peoples developed a rich and diverse tradition and culture.
The many islands is the best advantage we had for the sustenance of a people over a period of diverse human timeline. If we had one landmass and people migrated by any means, survival of a mix of settlements is very unlikely for over a long period of unknown times.
The spread makes a people unique. Isolation helps us create more and recreate less. Low density makes a community healthy. Small communities adhere to social unity. Many skills are present in small settlements which are passed down to generations.
Those golden times and ways of this country are slowly diminishing. Development which literally means expansion is slowly converging us into an urban center. Decentralizing into a few urban hubs is the main concern of the modern generation. It is not a bad idea, if at the same time thought is given to the fueling source for these centers. The rural communities are the much needed driving force of a properly run urban center. For the past few decades and even at present, development and urban center is on the top priority throughout the country. And hence each and every island, no matter how small, or with no regard to the population, is on the brim of a dream to become an urban epic.
Thus loosing the many skills we inherited through our ancestral sweat. I wonder where our skilled masons are. Where are the skilled carpenters? And the many highly skilled others whose work once flourished this nation. Every one of them had a knife on their waist with no harm to the other or anyone else. But today the new generations having a slightest sharp or even a blunt anything would think of harming the other. Some in between generations neglected to pass on their inheritance truthfully.
Developing a nation's asset will not make a people. People make a nation and it is this nation that we need to sustain. Hence we have to develop the minds of the people and the nation will develop.
I believe that people of this nation must be fully aware at first that with decentralized urban form of governance, there need to grow at least ten times more rural communities all around it. These communities must be self sustainable.
The governments thinking, i believe, are to create a few dense urban centers and make the rest as commercially viable business ventures. I have seen throughout the nation highly skilled locals working as security guards and night shift guards, when asked why their simple answer is to be part of the "urban fabric" and to earn a fixed regular income.
We are not losing, but have lost already, the genes of a sustainable community. The road we came is a one way. Diversions ahead are many. That we choose to move forward is crucial. The only longest way through is if we go together. Looking back we know that we left a lot behind. With a lot less and almost empty handed we begin again.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Memoirs of My Childhood - Part 2 (1973 - 1976)

Montessori
I remember enjoying these three years. I do not recall the first day. But on many days i try not to stay there with strangers. One day some girl bit me on my cheek and i was given some sweets to stop me from crying. My mom said that i had an oval and dashed cut marks on my cheek from the teeth of the one who bit me. Other than a few faces, i cannot bring to my mind the many children i played with.
I went to school on the paddle of my fathers bicycle. This journey was an interesting inspiration which i carried in my mind for long. The footsteps of my father, the sound of the bicycle wheel turning on non even sand roads, the talk of the passing people and the bell of the bicycle which i played with. The "walking" buildings that became bigger as they came closer, the few vehicles on the road zooming in as they go and the shadows playing around. Most interesting was the rainy days when there were puddles on the road. This is when i can see the reflections.
We stop some days at a shop (70 no. Majeedhee Road) to buy cotton candies. It is something i was surprised with. how the shop keeper made those candies was the interesting part. He put a stick into a steel box with a circular hole in it and turned his hand in a circular motion. After sometime when he put his hand out, i was shocked to see a pink cotton like fluffy thing around the stick. he told me to press it and eat. But some days i do not press but tried to eat quickly and the sugar get stuck on my face. The other sweets of the time that i liked was a yellow coloured rectangular pineapple flavour candy called "alanaasi metaa", a pink colour oval candy called "delta metaa", a small square locally made "one laari" sugar candy and a circular rainbow striped candy. But now i think that these must be the only few candies available those days.
There was a large frangipani tree at a corner of the school. This tree is still there as a center piece of the public space now outside of the school. A steel square structure was kept at the play area and it was fun climbing it. Some days  i use to sit and play on a rocking horse. One day some kid pulled it so hard that i nearly fell. What i remember most are counting sticks which i thought was long "kana-madhu" (indian almonds).
My teacher was Nirmala whom i still remember. I met her in recent years and even she still remembers.  I remember her as an always smiling one. I do not remember her in any other mood. She was a kind and polite Sri Lankan teacher who married a Maldivian and was later in school management.
The day my pre schooling ended i took a picture at home, in school uniform and with my other siblings. My father prepared a banner reading "finished montessori - 1976". I still have this photo and have a look every now and then to recap the good old moments. I remember the day we took the photo. My younger sister, who was the youngest then, was trying not to come for the picture.

Friday, November 6, 2009

now

I can go. But where and when? No matter how far or which day i am still here. This is about a "now" where i am for the past thirty eight years. This moment is where i am. Can i move to the last or the next moment? I could not go to the last but i went to the next and yet again i am here. The next is still there. It is raining now and i can hear the sound of the falling drops. The trees are taking a shower and the sand bathing. Dark all around except only one reading light at the desk. I can remain in the now forever. But the urge to go to the last or the next makes my body age and my soul a distant loner. If i try to leave this moment i might loose my reflection which is the only otherself i have. I might not even have a shadow to be read in this moment of another. Now it is indeed, and when the rain fall less, i can hear the whispers of the leaves. Freshly tossing each other they talk of the now they have. I wonder how many drops fall each time it rains. Or does it fall from that top as a tiny drop or a long line breaking into drops from a certain distance. Rain falls from a cloud it seems. Looks like a piece of cotton from below here. A few clouds make a million drops fall to let a lot more like me to be in this moment for a lifetime. Survival of this now depends on a lot of tiny little nothings and somethings like that. From day six of the beginning until day nine of the end there is only three days of continuous now that i have. Why are the drops less now? I wish a lot more rain falls so that i can hear the shower. Last weekend, when it was a "now" then, i did experience a heavy rain. I was out on the deck of a boat. It was a heavy shower with a blow of wind. So good to feel the rain on me as i captured some moments of the fall on my camera. I was out there for a little many "nows" and did wish for that moment to last forever. The wish came true. That moment is still here and so is the now. Even the rain is still here. But why is it that i feel a difference in the now of all my moments. All my life it is a now, But yet i feel like having so many nows that makes me so different at moments. Now is what i had. Now is what i have. And i guess now is what i will have. Only i wish the rain to last.

Monday, November 2, 2009

bloom

i shall wither not
like a puppet
and i shall march not
with the pull of a string
i dance alone
like a windbird
with an unseen wind
and i bloom
like a newborn
embracing a mystic soul