The Trump is back on the throne. The best I can hope for the world is that his second term will be a damp squib, quickly forgotten; only by the time he's gone, the world will be a still more crude, truculent, vulgar place.
I was reading Jim Corbett's classic Man-eaters of Kumaon after ages. I must have read it cover to cover at least four times in my life before. This time round I felt a great difference: I found his writing is mellifluous and moving, his descriptions of nature and wildlife masterly, his love of the India he lived in deep and genuine, but I felt a rising nausea and disquiet about the endless bloodletting, killing animals even as trophies, sometimes, or simply because they got in the way looking for food. I am no one to criticize a giant like Corbett, but I would rather read only My India and Jungle Lore in future visits. Killing and hurting, especially for any reason other than sustaining or saving life, has always upset me violently, but this time round I just couldn't bear it any more. And this was from the best of men that Britain sent to us!
Also from next year, my old promise of gifting myself vanaprastha will begin to come true. I have decided that after a long, long, long innings, I am going to halve my workload from April next year, meaning that instead of seven day work weeks - how many of my ex students have tried and survived that for three months? - I might have two, even three days off. I have done my grihastha work to my own complete satisfaction; I don't need very much money any more, and I neither want to cope with nor enjoy shouldering that kind of monstrous work routine any longer.
So I guess there will be a lot of big changes around here. I shall reflect on the likely things in a future post. Meanwhile, I shall have to re-imagine my life, keeping pleasantly engaged, doing things I still enjoy doing, maybe being of some real use to some good people still. If some of my readers truly care about me, please know that I shall be glad to have meaningful, doable suggestions.
