IN THE GLOW OF MANY NAMES, ONE LIGHT REMAINS

 

Arunachala Hill,

(In the foreground, Annamalaiyar Temple Gopuram)

Thiruvannamalai, TN, India.

Every year, as the new moon (Ammavasai) of Kartika* darkens the sky, Hindu’s all over the world will light up Vilakku (oil lamp). The day when Deepavali or Diwali (often called the “festival of lights) is celebrated. But beneath its glow lie layers of history, faith, and regional memory that make it one of the most diverse celebrations in the world.

In parts of north India, people remember the homecoming of Lord Rama after fourteen years of exile and his victory over Ravana, an event described in the Ramayana vividly. As the story goes, the people of Ayodhya lit oil lamps to welcome him back, an image that still defines Deepavali’s luminous heart.

In south India, the same night recalls another triumph of good over evil, Lord Krishna’s slaying of the demon Narakasura, freeing the world from tyranny. The ritual oil bath before dawn is not just a cleansing act but a symbolic washing away of ignorance and ego.

Across western India, traders close their account books and perform Lakshmi Puja, inviting the goddess of wealth and prosperity into their homes and businesses.

In the east, the night belongs to Goddess Kali, fierce and protective, who destroys darkness to make way for renewal.

Beyond Hinduism, Deepavali carries light across different beliefs. Jains mark the liberation of Mahavira (the last Tirthankar aka Guru of Jainism). The Sikhs on the other hand, make reverence to Guru Hargobind Ji’s (the Sixth Guru of Sikhism) release from captivity and the event is called the Bandi Chor Divas (The Day of Liberation).

The stories differ, but their message converges, in the year’s darkest night, humanity lights its lamps, of hope, courage, and inner clarity. Deepavali endures not just as a festival, but as a reminder that light, in all its forms, must be tended.

But beyond the events that has occurred over time as above mentioned that makes it a day for reflection, contemplation and action, is there any other astronomical, astrological or scientific explanation for this day to be auspicious?

Astronomically, Deepavali marks the end of one lunar cycle and the quiet beginning of another, a cosmic reset. In Indian thought, the Sun represents consciousness, and the Moon represents the mind. When they unite, the mind dissolves into pure awareness. Lighting a lamp, then, is not just ritual, it’s a symbol of inner awakening.

Astrologically, this new moon (Ammavasai) occurs in Libra, ruled by Venus (Sukran), the planet of balance, beauty, and prosperity. The Sun, said to be humble here, reminds us to seek harmony, to pause before the new harvest or business year, and to honour both material and spiritual wealth.

 

Then, there is an all-practical reason too, Diwali arrives just after the monsoon, when dampness breeds insects and disease. So traditionally, oil lamps, incense, and fireworks helped purify the air, while the custom of cleaning homes and exchanging sweets renewed community bonds and morale.

But then what does the scriptures say about this entire phenomenon that reverberates in the conscience of Hindus.  As the monsoon retreats and India prepares for winter, the Hindu calendar unfolds one of its most meaningful spiritual sequences, from Mahalaya Paksha to Deepavali, and finally the Karthigai Deepam. Though each carries its own rituals, together they form a single journey, from remembrance to renewal, from ancestral gratitude to cosmic connection.

The cycle begins with Mahalaya Paksha (this year it was between 7th-21th September), a fortnight devoted to honouring one’s ancestors (Pitru). The tradition holds that during this period, the veil between human and ancestral realms thins, allowing blessings to flow through generations. The rituals of tarpanam (ancestral offering) is not act of mourning but of continuity, reminders that our lives are extensions of countless lineages. Today, science offers a poetic parallel, our genetic code literally carries the memory of those who came before us.

When Mahalaya ends, the focus turns outward. Deepavali (this year celebrated on 20^th October), when the new moon of the Karthigai month, marks the year’s darkest night, when the Sun and Moon align, and the sky turns inwardly quiet. Lighting lamps and bursting firecrackers often seen as mere celebrational, but in actual sense they symbolize the guiding of ancestral energies back toward the cosmic source, echoing through light and vibration. It is a ritual of farewell and renewal, a recognition that life and death, light and darkness, are part of the same cycle.

The journey culminates in Karthigai Deepam (this year will be celebrated on 4^th December) , when countless lamps are lit again, this time reaching skyward. The Agaya Deepam (lamp of the sky) represents light freed from the confines of earth and body. In Tamil Nadu, the great flame atop Arunachala Hill in Tiruvannamalai embodies Shiva as eternal fire, the infinite consciousness into which all life ultimately merges.

Viewed together, these festivals form a spiritual continuum rooted in both astronomy and awareness. From Mahalaya’s remembrance to Diwali’s renewal and Karthigai’s cosmic light, the message remains timeless, we are part of a living chain, of energy, memory, and light. and every lamp we kindle is both a tribute to the past and a beacon for the future.

Let us celebrate the illumination of light meaningfully.

Cheers.

ravivarmmankkanniappan@123521102025 3.0567° N, 101.5851° E

*In most of northern and western India, where the lunar Amanta calendar is followed, the new moon that marks Deepavali concludes the month of Ashwin and ushers in Kartika. Hence, it is celebrated as Kartika Amavasya. In contrast, Tamil Nadu and parts of South India follow a solar calendar, in which the same Amavasya usually occurs within the month of Aippasi (mid-October to mid-November). Thus, Tamils celebrate Aippasi Amavasai as Deepavali.

When the Soul of Education Dies at Home

 

Photo of Teachers from Standard Type Primary School Tamil

Lanadron Estate, Panchor, Johor.

My late Pappa is seated 6th from the right.

(circa 1959)

There was a time when schools were sanctuaries, places where children not only learned to read and write but also to think, feel, and grow into moral beings. Today, that sanctuary feels fractured. What once promised hope now often breeds fear, anxiety, and alienation. We read too often about bullying, suicide, violence, and neglect within the school system. These are not isolated tragedies, but in fact they are reflections of a deeper national ailment, the slow death of our educational soul.

But the decay didn’t start within the classroom walls. It began at home.

Education was never meant to be confined to textbooks or classrooms. It begins in the earliest moments of a child’s life, in the warmth of family, in the habits modelled by parents, in the values taught around the dinner table. Yet, the modern household has become a space of exhaustion. Parents are stretched thin, working tirelessly to put food on the table. In their struggle to survive, the art of nurturing has been sacrificed to the altar of necessity.

Among the more privileged, the problem takes on a different form. Many believe that as long as they provide access to gadgets, tutors, and “good” schools, their duty ends there. The upbringing becomes transactional, where education is outsourced to institutions, empathy delegated to teachers, and discipline left to the algorithmic influence of digital media. But virtue cannot be outsourced, and character cannot be downloaded.

Children now grow up with the internet as their moral compass. They learn not through wisdom passed down by their elders, but through trends and viral content. They mimic what they see, without the grounding of right and wrong. The result is a generation that can code, create, and communicate, but struggles to empathize, reflect, or apologize. They are intelligent, but emotionally adrift, connected, but spiritually hollow.

Within schools, the crisis is equally dire. Many teachers have become job holders rather than educators. This is not entirely their fault, the system has conditioned them so. Teaching, once a calling, has been bureaucratized into a career defined by key performance indicators and endless administrative tasks. Teachers who once inspired are now buried under paperwork and digital reporting systems, leaving little room for genuine engagement with their students.

When passion is replaced by procedure, and creativity is constrained by compliance, schools cease to be centres of learning. They become factories for exam results.

The consequences are grave. A half-trained doctor might take a few lives, but an uncommitted educator, one who teaches without heart or purpose, destroys generations. The loss isn’t immediately visible, but it reverberates through society, in workplaces devoid of ethics, in public discourse devoid of empathy, and in leadership devoid of vision.

Our national discourse on education remains trapped in shallow metrics, exam scores, rankings, and policy slogans. We celebrate rising averages while ignoring the psychological and moral collapse beneath. When a student dies by suicide or another is bullied into trauma, the response is always the same, statements of concern, promises of investigation, and silence that follows when the news cycle moves on.

The real crisis is not academic but cultural. It is the collective surrender to mediocrity and moral detachment. We have allowed education to be reduced to performance, not purpose. We value efficiency over empathy, results over relationships, and prestige over principle.

Reform, therefore, must begin not in ministries but in living rooms. Parents must reclaim their role as the child’s first teachers. Schools must rediscover their purpose as spaces that shape human beings, not merely produce workers. Teachers must be freed from bureaucratic chains and empowered to teach with passion again. And as a society, we must redefine success, not as grades or salaries, but as the ability to think deeply, feel compassionately, and act responsibly.

When homes lose their warmth and schools lose their soul, a nation loses its moral direction. What we are witnessing today, the rising violence, the emotional emptiness, the apathy, are symptoms of that loss.

If we do not change course, we will raise a generation that is intellectually brilliant yet spiritually bankrupt. A generation fluent in technology but illiterate in humanity. And when that happens, no policy reform or ministerial statement will be able to save us, because by then, we would have already forgotten what it means to educate a person.

Cheers.

The school today,

Originally built in 1903

(Photo courtesy, from Google Map)

ravivarmmankkanniappan@124318102025 3.0567° N, 101.5851° E

GOD AND INTELLECTUALS

 

Bust of Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara

(aka the Bayon Bust, teakwood bust at home)

King Surya Varman I of Cambodia was instrumental in creating the Thousand Linggas 

in Kbal Spean, to recreate the Ganges to flow into Angkor) 

Recently I chanced upon a book, “How Intellectuals found God” by Peter Savodnik, and I was truly intrigued by his assertion. His reference were people like Mathew Crawford, Paul Kingsnorth, Jordan Hall, Ayaan Hisri Ali, Jordan Peterson and also Elon Musk. Except for Ayaan, all other reference made were within the sphere of western, male and elite demography. ( I must say that I had to stop here, because of domestic duty calls)

(I am back to now, but accompanied by my dear friend Jameson),  indeed feeling highly spirited but still on track on the topic.  Savodnik’s main thesis is rather sociological, he asserts that the rationalist, technocratic worldview has run dry and he asserts that humanizing corrective is not necessarily “proof of God,” but evidence that meaning and morality can’t be sustained by materialism alone.

So is there a mass transmigration of intellectuals towards the entity called God. But then again do the world of believers need an endorsement from these intellectuals to validify the existence of the God Entity.

Thiruvalluvar, a saint/philosopher from the 3^rd Century BCE (era still disputed), who was considered to be the epitome of secularism, mentions in his first couplet in his famous Thirukural (deemed to be the Supreme Tamil literature on Virtue, Wealth and Love), “Akara muthala elluthellam aathi Bhagavan muthatrae ulaghu."  (அகர முதல எழுத்தெல்லாம் ஆதி பகவன் முதற்றே உலகு). This couplet states that just as 'A' is the first letter of the Tamil alphabet, the primordial God is the first and source of all in the world. So the first Tamil secularist has honoured the God entity as the opening couplet of his 1330 couplets that describes universal ethical and moral principles, guiding individuals through life's three core pursuits. Firstly it’s virtue (Aram), secondly, wealth and governance ((Porul), and thirdly, love (Inbam). It is a secular work containing lofty wisdom on a wide range of subjects, from individual morality and domestic life to social and political issues, offering timeless guidance for all of mankind regardless of caste or creed.   

In ancient Greece, we have Plato (427 – 347 BCE), inherited Socrates’ critical stance toward traditional religion, rejecting the Homeric gods as immoral and anthropomorphic. But in later dialogues (Timaeus, Laws), Plato developed the idea of a single divine craftsman (Demiurge) who created the cosmos rationally and benevolently. This was a major shift from scepticism about mythic gods to belief in a rational, transcendent God, a proto-monotheistic move that influenced later Christian theology.

So this transmigration of from a non believer  to a believer of some sort is not new. It has happened from time immemorial, since the dawn of civilization but at different pace according to the socio-political-economic evolution of mankind, contextually connected to the time.

I have often heard amongst my circle of network as well in my reading, many identify themselves of being spiritually connected but not identifying themselves with any ambit of a religion.  I just thought it’s just a fashionable rhetoric to differentiate themselves from the masses who are more rooted in rituals and the book of God.

J. Robert Oppenheimer (1904–1967), the theoretical physicist who led the Manhattan Project, was not religious in the traditional sense, but he was deeply spiritual, philosophical, and culturally religiously informed, at least that was what has been described about him. Oppenheimer himself described his upbringing as “Jewish in heritage but not in faith.” Oppenheimer rejected a personal God who intervenes in human affairs. According to his autobiography, Oppenheimer believed in an ordered, intelligible cosmos, where beauty and morality arise from understanding reality. His tone appeared reverential but non-theistic, sometimes described as “religious awe without religion.” In one of his interviews he says, “There are no gods, but there is the mystery of the universe, and that is enough”. I would say that, Oppenheimer was not religious in practice or doctrine, but he was profoundly spiritual, ethically reflective, and philosophically theistic in temperament. Based on my reading I can infer that Oppenheimer found that in the world’s religious traditions (especially Hinduism) a language of awe and moral gravity that science alone could not provide.

Peter Savodnik’s How Intellectuals Found God is less a theological argument than a cultural diagnosis. He is not proving God’s existence or presenting new philosophy; instead, he observes that a surprising number of modern thinkers, people formed by secular, rational traditions, are turning toward faith. What Savodnik is really saying is that the intellectual climate itself is shifting. After decades in which materialism and skepticism dominated elite thought, many writers, scientists, and public figures are realizing that reason alone cannot satisfy the human need for meaning, morality, and belonging.

Though Savodnik’s insight may appear “obvious” but people have always sought transcendence when rationalism feels hollow. Yet Savodnik’s point is that this return to belief among high status intellectuals signals a broader cultural fatigue with purely secular explanations of life. For him, these conversions are less about dogma and more about recovering a sense of wonder and ethical grounding. In that sense, Savodnik isn’t just repeating what’s obvious, he’s documenting a moment of re enchantment in Western thought, when intellect and faith, long estranged, are beginning to speak to each other again. His work captures that emotional and philosophical tension rather than resolving it.

The tension between intellect and faith is not something any writer, doctrine, or philosophy can fully resolve. Every religious and mystical tradition ultimately points inward, the real discovery lies within the seeker, not in external authority. Books like Savodnik’s can illuminate paths, reveal patterns, or awaken longing, but they cannot walk the road for us. The journey toward truth is profoundly personal, experiential, and evolving.

Religious dogma, philosophy, or science each offer frameworks, signposts rather than destinations. They can prepare the mind, but the real transformation occurs in consciousness itself, through reflection, doubt, surrender, and insight. That is why sages across traditions, from Socrates to the Buddha, from Rumi to Meister Eckhart, emphasize self-inquiry over mere belief. The intellect may describe God, but only direct experience gives meaning to that description.

So when Savodnik captures the tension between intellect and faith, he touches on the universal paradox, the mind seeks certainty, but the spirit seeks communion. To resolve that, one must turn inward, not to escape reason, but to integrate it with inner awareness, where understanding and faith cease to be opposites and become dimensions of the same quest for truth.

Cheers.

ravivarmmankkanniappan@2150141020243.0567° N, 101.5851° E

IMPERMANENCE

 

Pic Taken at Pashupati Arya Ghat, Kathmandu, Nepal.

“Up to the doorway, kin will walk with you.

Up to the street, your wife will stand beside you.

Up to the graveyard, children will follow in tears.

But at the final step, who is left with you?

 

Dance as long as you can dance,

Speak as long as words will carry.

Gather wealth, gather friends,

But none will travel past the fire.

 

For the cradle, there is the mother’s care,

For the bed, there is the maiden’s love.

For hunger, there is food,

For sorrow, there is wisdom.

 

Ask the one who has left this world,

He will call you to follow.

Ask the one who has just arrived,

He will beg you to stay.

 

The body will fall, the soul will slip away,

The flame will rise, ashes will scatter,

And what remains?

Only silence,

Teaching us what endures, nothing but truth.”

(Translated from Kavignar Kannadasan’s Veedu Varai Uravu-1962)

 

Kannadasan’s “Veedu Varai Uruvu” is not just a song, it is a mirror held up to life’s impermanence. Written for the film Paadha Kaanikkai, the lyric glimmers with the wisdom of Advaita Vedanta philosophy, echoing the truths of detachment and mortality that have shaped centuries of thought. What lends the song its quiet power is its unflinching honesty, family, friends, wealth, and possessions accompany us only so far, and no further. They walk beside us to the doorstep, to the street, perhaps even to the cremation ground but when the final threshold is reached, we are left alone. This stark recognition punctures the illusions we wrap ourselves in, the illusions that relationships and riches can shield us from the inevitable.

Yet Kannadasan, in his genius, does not plunge the listener into despair. Instead, he offers a wider lens. He speaks of the cycles of existence, birth, nurture, desire, and finally, the wisdom that mortality affords. The song is not a lament but a call, to live clearly, to live wisely, and to remember that truth alone outlasts the pageant of life. In this way, impermanence becomes not a shadow, but a lantern.

The resonance of these words was felt with chilling force during the COVID-19 pandemic. Suddenly, mortality was no longer an abstraction reserved for philosophy or poetry. It was intimate, palpable, threaded through the air we breathe. Streets fell silent, hospitals overflowed, and the news became a litany of loss. For a fleeting moment, humanity seemed awakened to impermanence. We saw, perhaps more starkly than ever before, how fragile life is, how thin the veil of certainty really was. And yet, as swiftly as this awareness descended, it evaporated. Like morning dew dissolving under the sun, the clarity faded. Greed returned, ego reclaimed its throne, and the world rushed back into the arms of acquisition and pride, as though nothing had been learned.

The larger world tells the same story, only on a grander stage. A World Bank study now lists 39 fragile and conflict-affected countries that have been driven into deeper turmoil since 2020, where it is witnessing economies collapsing, violence rising, humanitarian crises swelling. The Peace Research Institute (Oslo) reports that battlefield deaths have reached a 30 year high, spurred by wars that escalated or reignited in the wake of the pandemic. What could have been a moment of global reckoning instead became  a return to old appetites, power, possession, and domination.

Into this fragile landscape, step leaders who amplify denial rather than humility. When Donald Trump declares that climate change is a hoax, or sneers that Europe is “going to hell,” it is not simply bluster, it is the voice of a culture unwilling to confront impermanence. His words echo the very pride and carelessness Kannadasan warned against, and the fact that such rhetoric carries weight in the world’s largest economy speaks to the perilous path humanity treads.

And still, even with more international institutions than at any point in history, bodies designed to safeguard peace, health, and justice, the world remains more fragmented than ever. These institutions, too, fall prey to self-interest, each absorbed in its own orbit, each chasing narrow agendas. The irony is striking. Humanity has never had more mechanisms for unity, yet it has rarely felt more divided.

Can it be otherwise? Perhaps. But only if we allow impermanence to be more than an idea. If we see it not as a gloomy shadow but as the absolute truth on which all else rests. To live with this awareness is to strip life of its vanities, to loosen the grip of greed and ego, to seek instead what endures beyond death’s boundary: compassion, wisdom, and clarity.

Kannadasan’s lyrics, in its gentle cadence, whispers what our times demand in a thunderous voice, all that we cling to will dissolve, but in embracing this truth, we may finally learn how to live. Like a river returning to the sea, our journey is not one of loss but of return, of flowing back to the source from which we came, carrying nothing but the wisdom of having passed through the world with open eyes.

What we may lose is borrowed time, but instead we will gain the clarity of return.

Cheers.

 

ravivarmman@1304260920253.0567° N, 101.5851° E

Cheap Migrant Labour or Structural Malaise? Rethinking U.S. Policy on Work Visas and Sustainable Employment

 

Pic from my Refrigerator Magnet

In recent years, the US administration has voiced increasing concern that foreign workers are undercutting American employees, particularly in high-skilled sectors such as information technology. Policymakers argue that this influx of international talent not only threatens job security for American graduates but also constitutes a broader economic and national security risk. The statistics appear to support these anxieties, for example H-1B visa allocations in the IT sector rose from 32% in 2003 to over 65% by 2024, while unemployment among U.S. IT graduates has climbed to 7.5%, a rate higher than most other fields of study. Between 2000 and 2019, the number of foreign STEM workers in the United States more than doubled, even though overall STEM employment only grew by 44.5% during that period.

These figures, coupled with reports of American IT workers being compelled to train their foreign replacements under nondisclosure agreements, suggest to many observers a systemic effort by U.S. companies to replace domestic employees with cheaper foreign labour. Critics warn that such practices may discourage young Americans from pursuing careers in STEM fields, thereby creating vulnerabilities in national security, as critical data and digital infrastructure could increasingly come under the management of non US nationals.

Yet while the fear is understandable, focusing exclusively on “cheap migrant labour” misidentifies the root of the problem. What is framed as a labour market distortion caused by immigration is, in reality, a symptom of deeper structural choices within American capitalism. The more fundamental challenge is the reluctance of employers to internalize the true costs of production, whether through paying wages that reflect U.S. living standards or through consumers, especially the affluent, accepting higher prices for domestically produced goods and services. So long as this underlying dynamic persists, reliance on foreign labour will remain attractive to firms, regardless of how restrictive immigration policy becomes.

Symptom versus Disease

The rhetoric around “cheap migrant labour” is politically potent because it offers a visible, tangible culprit. But the displacement of US workers is not driven solely by immigration policy. It is driven by the structural incentive of capital to minimize costs in pursuit of shareholder value. Employers resist paying wages that align with the dignity of American living standards, while consumers, particularly in higher income brackets, refuse to absorb the higher prices that would make domestically produced goods and services viable. The result is a systemic reliance on cheaper labour, whether sourced abroad or imported through visa programs.

To confuse this symptom with the disease is to risk designing policies that address appearances rather than causes. Attempts to restrict visas or penalize companies for hiring foreign workers may yield short-term political wins, but they fail to alter the structural drivers that make outsourcing or migrant labour economically rational in the first place.

The Risks of Protectionist Policy

This blind spot is evident in the recent policy statement under the Trump administration to impose a $100,000 fee on each work visa issued to foreign employees. The intent is clear, to create financial disincentives for companies reliant on international labour and to redirect opportunities toward American workers. But the likely outcomes are more ambiguous.

In the immediate term, such fees will significantly increase operating costs for firms, particularly in high skilled industries such as technology, healthcare, and engineering. Companies will respond by reconfiguring their hiring practices, accelerating automation, or shifting investment abroad. Over the medium term, some businesses may adjust and rebalance their labour strategies, but it remains uncertain whether the policy will meaningfully reduce unemployment among US graduates. Structural challenges such as skill mismatches, global competition for talent, and the rise of automation complicate the assumption that jobs freed from foreign workers will seamlessly flow to American citizens.

Ironically, by making the US less attractive to global talent, protectionist measures risk pushing innovative firms to relocate overseas, hastening the very decline they were designed to prevent. In the pursuit of an “America for Americans,” the administration may inadvertently create an America less competitive on the world stage.

The Need for a Paradigm Shift

If the aim is truly to revitalize opportunities for American workers, the solution cannot rest on piecemeal fixes or punitive immigration policies. Instead, it demands a broader reorientation of the socioeconomic system. At its core, the problem lies in how labour is valued within US capitalism. So long as labour is treated as an expendable input to be minimized, any attempt to patch the system will only deepen systemic instability.

A paradigm shift would involve rebalancing the relationship between capital, labour, and consumers. Employers must be willing to pay wages that reflect not only market demand but also the cost of sustaining dignified living standards in the United States. Consumers, particularly those who have benefited most from globalization, must accept the discipline of paying more for goods and services produced under fair conditions. And policymakers must move beyond symbolic gestures to design structural reforms that address wage stagnation, invest in education, and reduce the skill mismatches that make US workers less competitive.

Without this deeper reorientation, policies will continue to treat symptoms rather than causes. Visa restrictions may temporarily slow the inflow of foreign workers, but companies will still seek cost arbitrage, either through outsourcing or automation. Workers will continue to feel displaced, and national security concerns about reliance on foreign expertise will persist.

Navigating a Post Pandemic Economy

The urgency of structural reform has become even clearer in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic. Global disruptions revealed that economic shocks are no longer exceptional, they are a constant feature of the modern economy. Businesses worldwide have had to strengthen risk management, diversify supply chains, and build resilience into operations, all of which have raised the baseline cost of doing business.

Within this context, measures such as the $100,000 visa fee risk compounding existing pressures on firms. While intended to prioritize American workers, such policies may instead accelerate the search for cheaper alternatives abroad or through automation. Over time, they may even undermine the resilience of the U.S. economy by restricting access to the global talent pool essential for innovation and growth.

Conclusion-Beyond Tinkering at the Edges

The American debate over foreign workers has been framed in terms of unfair competition and national security threats. But to frame the problem as “cheap migrant labour” is to confuse the symptom with the disease. The deeper crisis lies in the refusal of American capital to internalize the true costs of production and in the reluctance of consumers to support a sustainable domestic economy through higher prices.

Policies that focus narrowly on restricting visas or penalizing companies may offer short-term relief, but they risk long term damage, such as, demoralizing future generations of STEM workers, pushing firms abroad, and weakening U.S. competitiveness. A sustainable solution requires more than tinkering at the edges. It requires a systemic reorientation of values, where labour is no longer treated as expendable but recognized as central to national prosperity and security. Only through such a paradigm shift can the United States address the root of the problem and chart a path toward an equitable and resilient economic future.

Cheers.

ravivarmman@160022092025 3.0567° N, 101.5851° E

To Live or To Leave

 

Bunga Raya

(Pic from Garden)

I was reading an article written by Amarjeet Singh@AJ which was being circulated in the social media, entitled, “Malaysia: Country That Exports Its Best Minds…For Free”.  Amarjeet Singh’s words cut sharply at the truth of Malaysia’s predicament, yet I find myself pausing at his conclusion of “who stays behind.” The reality, I believe, is more textured. Beyond the categories of those too poor to leave and those too indoctrinated to question, there exists another generation, “my generation”,  who remain not out of helplessness nor blindness, but out of rootedness.

We are tied to this land not merely by circumstance, but by the invisible threads of memory, relationships, and belonging. I have walked these roads, raised a family here, shared laughter with friends under these skies. Why should I trade that for an alien soil, where even in my old age I might mow my own lawn in solitude, or stand at a checkout counter under the gaze of strangers wondering why I am in “their” country? Here, even if tormented at times, I stand with dignity, because this is the place where my footsteps mean something, and where the soil remembers who I am.

For us, pride is not only in national achievements but in the quiet knowledge that we have contributed, as carpenters, doctors, lawyers, labourers, or teachers, to the fabric of this society. That lived journey cannot be erased, nor can its worth be denied.

To the younger ones, I say, “go forth if you must”. The world is now borderless, and your stage is global. Relationships are no longer bound by proximity, they live on through digital threads and evolving norms of connection. Build your lives where you find meaning and carry your roots lightly yet proudly.

But let us also question whether the term “brain drain” still holds its old weight. In today’s multipolar, hyperconnected world, human talent is no longer confined to national ownership. Skills and intellect flow like rivers, crossing borders, reshaping economies, creating value wherever they are welcomed. What nations lose in exclusivity, they may still gain in networks, remittances, and global reach.

Thus, I see Malaysia’s tragedy not as one of “loss,” but of missed opportunity, of failing to create a home vast enough in spirit to hold its brightest minds while also embracing their outward journeys. For love of country, like love itself, cannot be commanded, it must be reciprocated.

Perhaps then, the true challenge is not to lament those who leave, nor to judge those who stay, but to ask, “how do we become a place where staying is not resignation, and leaving is not escape, but both are simply different expressions of the same love for home?”

Cheers.

ravivarmmankkanniappan@1029140920253.0567° N, 101.5851° E

The Symbol Beyond the Cloth: Reflections on the Nation’s Flag

 

Selamat Hari Merdeka

(Photo captured at Kelly's Castle, Perak)

Sundralingam one of the key general under Veerapandiya Kattabomman, defiantly hoisted Kattabomman’s flag at Panchalankuruchi, even as a fully armed British army surrounded them. This act was emblematic of their courage and spirit in the face of colonial aggression. Kattabomman was one of the last standing local Chieftain who fought against the invading British in Tamil Nadu, India (1799), where he was eventually defeated and hung to death.

In the 100 year war, Joan of Arch always carried a white flag which had the image of Christ and Fleur De Lis. She kept the flag aloft in the battle front to inspire and lift the spirits of the soldiers, making them conscious that they are guided by the divine power. According to records the flag did not fall and it is believed that its constant presence and reminder was instrumental in breaking the British siege in 1429.

During the Napoleonic war at the battle of Eylau (1807), French soldiers sacrificed their lives to prevent the Eagle (a symbol of the French flag) from falling into the Russian hands. Napoleon famously was quoted saying, “The Eagle is the soul of the regiment. To lose it is dishonour.”

Thus, has been the value attached to a piece of cloth called a flag. In the last 3 weeks Malaysian’s have been waking up to much noise on the topic, all because an individual accidentally waved the flag upside down. The incident took a turn into becoming a political championing by some quarters and the ugly racial card yet again became the source of the discontentment. But after the incident more photos and videos appeared in the social media about similar mistakes all over the country. So, is it endemic? I really do not know. But what is a bigger concern is the apathy that occurs every year after the National Day Celebration, where many of these handheld flags can be seen strewn all over. Fortunately, over the last few years several civil society organizations took it upon themselves to pick up these flags and dispose it appropriately.

The above observation on public apathy towards the nations flag can only mean one thing, that there are citizens of this country who do not see the nation’s flag beyond it being an identification of our country rather than understanding the deeper meaning of the flag and its significance to citizenry.

In his compelling work, “Ä Flag worth Dying For: The Power and Politics of National Symbol”, Tim Marshall reminds us that a flag, though but a fragment of cloth, carries within its fold the weight of the history, identity and ambition. It is less an object than a vessel, bearing the struggles, sacrifices, and hopes of generations. To those who gather beneath it, the flag becomes both a mirror and beacon. A mirror reflecting who they have been and a beacon guiding of who they strive to become.

That brings us to nationalist consciousness amongst Malaysians, because without strong foundation on historical past and the appreciation of the country’s constitution, eliciting nationalism would be almost impossible.

Based on the available information regarding Malaysia’s education curriculum structure found through online sources, currently in the Primary education, history takes up between 5% - 10%, and constitutional an independence related topic account for between 2% - 4%. Whereas in the secondary education the former represents 10% - 15% and the latter 4% - 7.5% (the estimates provided are indicative rather than definitive). This can be seen as a positive effort by the national education policy developers, but within the existing construct perhaps they can tweak it to provide a deeper and meaningful pedagogy so that every student would grow with national pride, reflecting on the sacrifices made by their forefathers in not only ensuring independence from the colonialists but also later towards nation building.

Malaysia is a nation built by the contribution of many. These contributions must be addressed meaningfully and should not be a mere mentioned in history books. 

For example, many do not know that the Tamil Chettiar community played a pivotal role in Malaya’s economy both before and after independence. Traditionally renowned as financiers and money lenders, they provided essential credit to planters and traders when formal banking was limited, thus enabling the growth of agriculture and commerce. Historically even before the Melaka Sultanate, the Chettiars, linked to Tamil merchant guilds, were part of South Indian trading network across Southeast Asia, financing maritime trade and bridging local economies with global commerce, embedding themselves deeply in regional economic history.

But as far as Malaysian history is concerned the focus on Indians is only mentioned as indentured labourers brought in to work in plantation. But these workers were the backbone that built and gave rise to the Malaysian economy, along with the Chinese labourers brought in to work in tin mines.

After 1957 the Chinese community became the driving force in Malaysian economic growth. Building on their strong presence in trade, mining, and commerce, they expanded into plantation, retail and later into manufacturing. Their entrepreneurship fuelled urban development, exports, and job creations, while investments in education nurtured skilled professionals across industries. By combining adaptability with enterprise, the Chinese community significantly shaped Malaysia’s modernization, making them indispensable pillar of the nation’s post-independence economy.

How many Malaysians know of Yeop Mahidin Mohammed Shariff, the father of the Askar Wataniah Pahang. A police officer by training, he went underground during the Japanese occupation, established a guerrilla resistance group, the Pahang Wataniah, to fight against the Japanese. He risked his life sabotaging Japanese missions and collected intelligence for the Allied forces. Lived in jungle, constantly under threat, to protect his people and his homeland. Yeop Mahidin’s courage and selflessness symbolised patriotic sacrifice in Malaya’s struggle for freedom.

Whilst appreciating past legacies that built the country students should also be inculcated with being aware of their accountability within the framework of the nation’s constitution.

A constitution is not merely a legal document but the soul of a nation it’s a covenant that binds people across generations. To be a citizen then is to be entrusted with its guardianship. Accountability does not merely mean obeying the law but honouring the spirit of justice, freedom, and equality it enshrines. One must exercise rights with humility, balance liberty with responsibility and engage in shared work of democracy. To neglect the constitution is to neglect the moral compass of the nation. Therefore, every citizen bears a sacred duty to keep alive the promise of the constitution through thought, word and deed.

Merely raising the flag during school assembly and waiving the flag during Independence Day, without deeper understanding of its significance, is like reciting a poem in a language that one does not know.

We must correct the root of this apathy rather than trying to deal with the symptom.

The nation has come a long way, no turning back, instead we must invest in mind and action ever evolving to become a living testament of wisdom and justice. Where progress is not only measured in material wealth, but in the depth of our compassion, the strength of our unity, and the courage to shape a future worthy of those yet unborn.

SELAMAT HARI MERDEKA

Cheers.  

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