Vol 4. The spellbinding power of feudal language words!

[VED]

The spellbinding power of feudal language words!


1. When words in feudal languages undergo trichotomy

2. When speaking philosophically from within the narrow world of philosophy

3. A language environment that classifies and defines a large percentage of people as animal-like, semi-human &c.

4. Those who proclaimed for the very first time that everyone has intelligence, skill, and social dignity.

5. A grand goal of social transformation, of which not even a shadow remains today

6. Aimless formal education

7. The limitations of teaching

8. Those within the narrow frameworks of proficiency in English become teachers.

9. Pure nonsense becomes higher education.

10. The intention is to get a government job

11. Knowledge isn’t developed by writing in a book, repeatedly reciting it to memorise it, and then writing an exam.

12. A five-year study that provides limited technical knowledge.

13. Formal education and entrepreneurship

14. A revelation

15. Where can one obtain technical knowledge that formal education doesn’t provide?

16. An education that is utterly irrelevant and does not contribute to personal character development

17. Barren degrees

18. English professors who have no knowledge of the noble traditions of the English language

19. About English literary figures who lack mental loyalty to English and England

20. Non-verbal signals in a feudal language

21. Codes of hierarchy that radiate through the eyes.

22. Any information or sentence is analysed with a triadic perspective

23. Shallow verbal gymnastics

24. Distorted simple behaviours

25. Are teachers behaving with respect toward students?

26. The benefits and drawbacks of expressing subservience

27. The big person, and the person beneath him in the pit

28. In a land where the arbitrariness of feudal languages is permitted

29. Inaccessible layers of society

30. A group of people living in different social compartments

31. Those who wiped out the use of "Mr.," "Mrs.," and "Miss."

32. When lowly-placed persons demean via verbal codes

33. No room to respond preserving one's dignity

34. When individuals lacking proficiency in English occupy officer positions

35. Acting without taking into concern the social boundaries in feudal languages

36. A lifestyle that requires extraordinary mental preparation.

37. Changing the life direction of many people in just ten minutes.

38. Those who do not acknowledge the redirection of the path toward quality English.

39. Even short visuals can affect word codes.

40. The opinion expressed by those who respect a person versus the opinion expressed by those who do not respect him.

41. English feudalism and democracy in feudal languages

42. The three types of beings: "addeham" (highest he), "ayaal" (middle level he), and "avan" (lowest he).

43. How do feudal language words function as a pivot?

44. The Diabolical Characteristics of Feudal Languages

45. Feudal language word codes visualise the attraction and repulsion of magnetic poles

46. How does one reimagine a physical scene in more than one way?

47. Feudal language word codes capable of shaking a person vigorously

48. When people of varying standards express opinions about prominent persons

49. Words in feudal languages can act like a prism.

50. Feudal language word codes have the capacity to magnify or diminish.

[VED]

Words like "You, Your, Yours, He, His, Him, She, Her, Hers, They, Their, Theirs" exhibit a minimal trichotomy in Malayalam, which transforms the mental disposition of its speakers into something entirely distinct from the mental disposition produced in English.

On one hand, there is an eagerness to view peers who rise as competitors and to bring them down as quickly as possible through verbal codes. On the other hand, those in a superior position are elevated to the heights of respectful language. The goal is to make others acknowledge this distinction.

Students tend to perceive the noteworthy achievements of those who are not their friends as dangerous advancements. When mentioning such matters, they speak in a manner that belittles both the achievement and the person, often with a tone of disdain or scorn. This trichotomy in linguistic codes arises spontaneously.

While it is possible to teach that such a mental disposition is wrong, these teachings cannot erase the verbal codes that this mindset generates. This is because they are embedded in the language’s codes.

It is not personal malice that provokes these tendencies. Rather, as long as it remains an eternal truth that when another person progresses, they gain value in the linguistic codes while one’s own position suffers a loss of value in those same codes, this mental insecurity is entirely natural.

In most individuals, this creates a profound sense of insecurity. The reason is that in feudal languages, the fear of being perceived differently by others—thus damaging one’s standing—is an extremely serious issue.

It does not seem that Lord Macaulay had a full understanding of this matter. However, what stands out is that, at first glance, he quickly recognized that the languages of this subcontinent inherently contain codes of rude degrading.

When one speaks English—a language free from such malice, trichotomy, insecurity, and unease—it is certain that a qualitative change occurs both in the individual and, through them, in society.

In English, even after speaking just a few sentences, the shift in mental state and the internal codes operating within a person becomes immediately perceptible.

[VED]

A person standing with an attitude of being suppressed below, yet ready to bite those above if possible, experiences a sense of mental elevation. At the same time, the persons standing above feels as though they have descended to an equal level.

This is a problem that arises in those who have grown up learning through feudal languages. Often, both parties may feel a sense of unease or the impression that something inappropriate has occurred.

One thing I noticed among my schoolmates was the narrowness of the topics they had to speak about, discuss, and think about. For me, who had access to English in a qualitative way, a plethora of simple yet vast topics for thinking and discussion were abundantly available from English classical literature itself. Similarly, many other things were accessible through English.

However, those who had only studied Malayalam had no knowledge or inkling of such a world. Yet, the paradox lies in this: these individuals, from within their narrow world of conceptual subjects, could engage in grand discussions, proclamations, heroic claims, and political debates about human equality, human rights, popular revolutions, the revolutions of people in other countries, and more, all with a perfectly natural mental disposition. (There is a flipside to this in English-speaking nations, which I will mention later.)

Reading Shri. Madhusudhanan Nair’s poem Naranathu Bhranthan feels similar. It seems to be a poem that calls for human equality.

QUOTE: "Spitting in each other's faces, we laugh and say we are one..."

QUOTE: "The throne of the sky asks the caste of the flower which has held out its cupped hand pleading for knowledge..."

Yet, it’s unclear whether those who enjoy this poem realize that the very codes that discriminate against humans in the most degrading and despicable ways exist within their own spoken words.

However, the purpose I observed behind such discussions and debates in school and college was the need to create noise and capture others’ attention through such antics. There was even a perception that those who engaged in this were more capable.

The reason is that in feudal languages, such clamour and the act of overturning others hold value.

However, in social communication, these linguistic codes were seen to provoke a general cacophony, an eagerness to push aside those ahead, to scramble forward, and to drive others away.

The bitter fruit of this mental disposition has been experienced and understood by hundreds of kingdoms in this subcontinent, the diverse groups of people within each kingdom, and even the families within them, since time immemorial.

Merely teaching this group some spoken English will not suffice to spread the clear tranquillity of traditional English society to this subcontinent. The reason is that when a few people from such socially insecure crowds are taught some spoken English, what happens is that they use this newfound English as a new weapon to suppress others.

Not only that, but they also use this acquired English to infiltrate English-speaking societies and release the disintegrative codes of their own social environment into them.

[VED]

One of the objectives that Macaulay and the English East India Company strove for was to bring about a profound change in the mental taste, preferences, and inclinations of the individuals here.

It was a social environment where a large percentage of people were classified and defined as animal-like, semi-human, and so forth that needed to be elevated through English. The very fact that such a possibility was envisioned is itself a remarkable thing.

Even in recent days, many have explicitly told me that it is impossible to elevate the workers, commercial vehicle employees, shopkeepers (market traders), and their labourers of this land into English.

Nowadays, there are numerous facilities available for language learning—English newspapers, TV, radio, and more.

At the same time, when the English East India Company issued orders for this endeavour, they had on their side what could be considered a trivial number of young English individuals.

However, in all the endeavours of the English in this subcontinent, their numerical strength was negligible.

For example, when a local king and the French allied to attack the English trading post near Madras at Arcot, it was a very young Robert Clive who resisted and defeated them. At that time, he had with him just twenty young Englishmen of negligible age. However, alongside him were 180 local soldiers from the societal underclass, committed to ensuring the success of the English endeavor at any cost.

It seems that what enabled the English East India Company to succeed in all its endeavours in this subcontinent were precisely such seemingly feeble ratios. In the Battle of Plassey, 200 Englishmen and 1,800 locals faced off against the Nawab of Murshidabad’s 20,000 troops and their French allies. It was Robert Clive’s side that emerged victorious.

What secured the victory was not guns or cannons, but rather the loyalty, gratitude, and trust of the locals—who, for the first time in centuries, found liberation from social enslavement through those who spoke English, a language with flat codes.

[VED]

It was the English who first proved in this subcontinent that intelligence, skill, social dignity, and such qualities are not confined solely to the heritage of any caste or group of people.

When evangelists from the London Missionary Society in Travancore took the initiative to educate those who had been tied to the soil for centuries, living as slaves and otherwise, the advice given by the upper castes was that these people did not possess the full mental capacities of humans.

They argued that educating them would yield no benefit.

It seems that the evangelists did not place significant emphasis on the propagation of the English language.

There is much to say regarding these developments. However, since Christian missionary activities were banned by the English East India Company in the regions they governed, I will not elaborate on this movement here for now.

In Malabar, where English rule prevailed, the English education acquired by those who pursued it was of an unbelievably high standard even today. However, this occurred significantly only in very small places like Tellicherry (Thalassery).

Just a few decades ago, in households that had neither education nor social dignity, a group of people emerged for whom the names and works of English writers like Oscar Wilde, Charles Dickens, Sir Walter Scott, R.L. Stevenson, and the Bronte sisters became everyday familiarity.

Among the crowds associating with such writers, there may have developed an interest in spreading the English social atmosphere in their own land. It is understood that changes also occurred in clothing and social dignity.

However, it is certain that the mental transformation in young people of their own caste must have disturbed the sleep of community leaders. When those who had been trapped in lowliness due to age, occupation, family ties, caste, and other factors began stepping out after learning English, community leaders—all of them—sought a remedy by fostering an alternative system.

From families with social status that had never, since time immemorial, entertained the thought of uplifting those in lowliness, there sprang up progressives, revolutionaries, social reformers, and advocates of education across the land.

Their intention was all the same: to keep those who might rise by learning English from their lowliness anchored in the feudal language itself, while imparting some knowledge and other things. No matter how much they progressed, they would not truly escape the grip of linguistic codes socially. They would find poetic beauty in the highs and lows of that language, and within it, they would expound grand social philosophies. That’s all.

[VED]

When I was studying in school and college, there was not even a shadow of the kind of social transformation envisioned by the English East India Company in the education system. It’s unclear how many of those who received education in Travancore at that time were aware that the purpose of education was to bring about a softening in social communication and other aspects.

Although Travancore was not under English rule, it’s likely true that those at the highest levels of the administrative machinery attempted to emulate the English government in Madras. However, at the lower levels of society, things remained utterly coarse.

I actively participated in all kinds of conversations, surprises, and small stories with classmates. However, there was no way to share any of the ideas or thoughts in my own mind with those busting those around me.

The reason was that hardly anyone among my peers—barely a handful—had any connection with English classical literature. I often knew that such people existed in the local community, but I had no contact with them.

It was a small world. Students worshipped petty social leaders. Their admirers would describe the arrival of these minor leaders at every event with embellishments like, "Then he flew in there."

When acquaintances gathered, no platform was created for any kind of intellectual conversation. Typically, the easiest pastime was whether there was a bottle, getting a bottle, or drinking. There’s nothing wrong with that. But I didn’t see any alternative activities.

For a year or two, I was indeed on the verge of becoming a full-fledged drunkard.

Then there was card playing. When "Playing Cards" turned into "Cheettukali" (card games) in Malayalam, the cultural standard of the game itself seemed to be shattered and transformed. I have played many of these games in both Malayalam and English environments. When playing in Malayalam, the influence of linguistic codes often entangled the intended spirit of the game, as I’ve experienced.

In Travancore, during college life, what I primarily learned was Malayalam slang and abusive language. Although it seemed to be used universally, I’m not sure if those at the upper social and caste levels used it. I didn’t see it being openly used in college or similar settings, but at the lower rungs of society, such language appeared to be considered an indispensable mark of masculinity.

One noticeable difference between Malayalam and Malabari (the traditional language of Malabar) seems to lie in the use of abusive language. Compared to the abusive expressions in Malayalam, it might even feel as though such terms are absent in Malabari.

[VED]

It’s not entirely clear what the purpose of today’s formal education is. The English East India Company introduced English education in this subcontinent to bring about a cultural transformation among the people.

However, the education I experienced in college and school was something entirely different. Various government jobs were reserved exclusively for those who had gone through formal education. Those who didn’t pass through this system were relegated to being considered a sort of inferior caste, deemed unworthy of government employment.

The English East India Company did not aim to foster such a degrading mindset through English education. Within the administrative system they established, those with today’s style of formal education would struggle greatly to penetrate it. Even if they managed to enter, it’s unlikely they would reach high positions. This is because the officers who rose within the English administrative system had internalised social and communicative codes that were absent in this subcontinent.

During my college days, I often heard many of my peers say about those who didn’t attend college and instead engaged in various occupations, "What does he know? He’s someone with no education at all."

Back then, I didn’t see anything wrong with this definition, but later in life, I realized that those who didn’t go to college and instead worked hard in trades or other fields weren’t as foolish as assumed. In fact, I’ve seen that many of them possess skills in various trades and businesses.

At the same time, the realization that only those who learned that salt is sodium chloride, that the structure of an atom follows Bohr’s atomic model, or that Pluto is the outermost planet in the solar system are the ones with "knowledge" was corrected.

In the perspective of the education the English East India Company sought to promote, both those with such knowledge and those who didn’t attend college were on the same level. However, it’s certain that the former group would claim they possessed more knowledge.

What’s noteworthy here, though, is that what the English East India Company aimed to promote went beyond such factual knowledge—it was an elevation in social and intellectual taste and inclination. It seems fair to say that the education system in the newly constructed nation of India let go of this fundamentally essential aspect. I doubt things are much different in Pakistan or Bangladesh either.

As far as I am is concerned, I have direct experience with both sides. I firmly believe that the better and more qualitative approach lies in what the English East India Company sought to promote.

But to be honest, it’s a fact that I have only been able to envision such a refined culture from a distance. The reason is that everything—living, interacting, and learning—has taken place within feudal linguistic environments.

[VED]

Since this writing has reached this platform, I thought I’d jot down a few thoughts that came to mind about education.

I pursued my pre-degree at a government-aided private college. The lecturers and professors there were people who had secured their jobs by paying a hefty sum to the college management. I haven’t experienced or realized any significant difference between such individuals and those who entered their jobs purely on merit.

I studied for my degree at a government college. The teachers there were likely appointed through the Public Service Commission (PSC) or similar processes. What was evident in both groups was their excruciating mispronunciation of English words. However, it didn’t seem to me that these individuals lacked sincerity.

The problem didn’t lie with them. The issue was the lack of relevance in the subjects being taught.

During my high school years, my mind wandered through the frontiers of physics and astronomy. I often found myself intrigued by curiosity-sparking topics like classical mechanics, quantum mechanics, and relativity. In tenth grade, I even had a classmate who shared an interest in these subjects.

Back then, there was a magazine called Science Today. Looking back now, it feels like I’ve rarely come across a magazine of such quality in my life. It was a publication that discussed scientific topics in an extremely high-quality English in a very engaging and pleasant manner. Though published in India, it carried a profound English tradition.

This magazine seems to have faded away just before the year 2000, around the time when a new breed of computer "geniuses" emerged in the region. It appears that this group came in, replaced the traditional English with a flood of digital designing, changed the magazine’s name, and brought it down to a mediocre level. I don’t know what happened behind the scenes.

The notion that digital designing could challenge traditional English is utterly absurd. About 20 years ago, I recall an occasion in another state where I was sitting at a venue. On the table in front of me was a large book of selected works of Oscar Wilde. Next to it was a trivial magazine, an imitation of a coffee-table magazine, printed in multicolor on glossy art paper. Meanwhile, Oscar Wilde’s book was old, yellowed with age, and its cover was worn and frayed in places.

Those around me picked up the coffee-table magazine imitation, exclaiming "Wow!" and "Oh!" in amazement. They wouldn’t even spare a penny’s worth of value for Oscar Wilde’s book. They didn’t notice it, and even if they did, they lacked the mental capacity to appreciate its worth.

But for me, the value of Oscar Wilde’s work was akin to gold. Even if it’s covered in dust and dirt, gold remains gold. Thousands of coffee-table magazines may come and go, but Oscar Wilde’s works endure unblemished.

I’m reminded of a line from the novel Gone with the Wind, where Rhett Butler says to Scarlett:

Quote: "I think you’ll always be more attracted by glister than by gold." End of quote.

Can fleeting or short-lived glitter ever surpass the profound value of true excellence?

[VED]

During my second year of pre-degree, I showed an issue of Science Today to a senior lecturer at that college. This was done to briefly discuss some concepts related to the time-space continuum (the integration of time and physical space) in the Theory of Relativity. The reason was that when I talked about what was presented in Science Today, it became clear that the lecturer had no understanding of it.

When I showed Science Today, the impression I got was that none of the lecturers in that college were even aware that such a magazine existed. There might have been teachers capable of reading and enjoying a high-quality English magazine like that, but I didn’t personally know any such individuals.

Fascinated by the wondrous imaginative scope of physics, I chose it as my main subject for my degree. However, within a few days of sitting in class, I realized that there was little connection between the physics I had romanticized and the physics taught as a subject. To put it briefly, within the degree classroom, all my affection for physics withered away and became like a dry, stale piece of bread.

Most of the students in the class came from a Malayalam-medium background. This was because those from an English-medium background had mostly joined a Christian college a short distance away.

Those from the Malayalam medium needed notes. They would write down every English sentence the lecturer said as notes. At the same time, many of the words were unfamiliar to them. Consequently, the lecturer would proceed with teaching and note-giving by spelling out each word.

The lecturers, meanwhile, often pronounced English words in a way that felt like their jaws were about to dislocate. For those not very familiar with the language, hearing such speech might give the impression that speaking English is some grand circus act.

There’s something off about the fact that colleges hire such people as teachers with hefty salaries. After all, there are so many people in this country who know English at a high standard. It’s evident that some mysterious filtering process is at play in these selections, ensuring that those individuals are sidelined.

[VED]

Then there are the subjects of study. For example, the first year began with teaching about an instrument called the "Constant Volume Hydrogen Thermometer." Most of the words in the name of this device, as given above, were pronounced completely incorrectly when viewed from an English perspective.

Even teaching this trivial thing required days of labored mispronunciations, note-taking, spelling out nearly every word, and so on.

Those who came from a Malayalam-medium background seemed to hold great respect for the teachers and their teaching methods. At the same time, those who could handle English reasonably well saw this as a hurdle to endure in life, tolerating and cooperating as needed. Many engaged in other aspects of college life to make productive use of their time. Studying was seen as a circumstance that facilitated these other opportunities.

It felt as though those from the Malayalam medium were studying an entirely different flavour of physics and chemistry. The technical terms might have been manufactured in a language laboratory. For instance, "Velocity" became "Pravegam" (speed), and "Gravity" became "Guruthvakarshanam" (gravitational force).

I’ve met people from Hindi-speaking regions and Tamil Nadu who studied science in this manner. Understanding their version of physics required considerable effort—especially translating it into English. However, one could take solace in the thought that Google Translate might be able to bridge the gap between the different versions of physics across India’s languages.

When discussing such matters, it’s easy to provoke those from the Malayalam medium. If you push them, they might swear that they’ll study in their mother tongue. You could even mix in a sense of patriotism, linguistic devotion, or reverence for their mother tongue if you wanted.

But to put it in very few words, the government and formal education are essentially deceiving them. However, it doesn’t seem that those who came from the Malayalam medium and completed college failed to achieve their goal of securing a government job.

Since government jobs were reserved for those who crossed the hurdle of this education system, there didn’t appear to be any possibility of failure in that regard.

Nor does it seem that those who didn’t get government jobs failed to find other employment.

[VED]

Since Physics is a scientific subject, it involves things like laboratories, submitting records, and other such requirements. Because of this, those in this class didn’t have the same freedom as those who took arts subjects. The reason being, if you skipped classes and wandered around, the teachers would show their authority when it came time to submit records.

It doesn’t seem like most of the things studied in this three-year degree would enable anyone to do something independently. At the same time, it didn’t appear that most students had any real interest in the subjects of these studies. Many in this class were those who couldn’t become doctors or engineers.

The intention is to get a government job. A few people wrote bank tests and left the place even before completing the third year.

To be precise, a government job means working in government offices, doing tasks meant for the public. In British India, the formal title for this was "Public Servant." The most essential requirement for this job is the ability to speak to people and refer to them using only polite words in everyday English conversation. Moreover, those who know English naturally gain access to a lot of official information. On top of that, it allows government office workers and their officers to communicate and discuss matters without causing any mental distress.

Instead, studying physics, chemistry, biology, matrices and logarithms in mathematics, and preparing for government or bank jobs without substantial knowledge of English feels somehow off.

Degrees like BSc, MSc, and BTech are considered higher education. The belief is that this perception has no connection whatsoever to the educational goals envisioned by the English East India Company.

This education isn’t intended to bring about any cultural upliftment among the students, the land, or its people. There’s a general perception among people that this education provides technical knowledge. While there was a belief during the study period that this might be true, later life experiences revealed that formal education doesn’t provide any truly valuable information.

Valuable information, it seems, is something that those who possess it in this land won’t pass on to anyone else.

[VED]

It was only after completing formal education and spending about ten to fifteen years engaging with various trades and businesses in different places that I realized something: in many occupations and trades, people were performing tasks with significant intelligence, wisdom, and skills. None of this understanding was cultivated by writing in a book, reciting it repeatedly to memorize it, and then writing an exam.

What I observed in formal education was an attitude of treating trivial matters as if they were some grand repository of knowledge being unlocked and absorbed. There’s a lot to say about this. I don’t think this writing will circle back to that path again. The reason is that if I start delving into writing history, confronting fabricated history would lead this writing into a very complex territory. And from there, it doesn’t seem likely to return to the topic of education.

Therefore, I think it’s better to bring out many of the thoughts swirling in my mind about this matter right now.

The issue of education is something I have personally encountered in various ways throughout life, so there’s much that can be said about it.

As mentioned earlier, trivial matters are stretched out, each link in the chain is cloaked with the concept of "marks"—something utterly useless to most—creating an artificial sense of divinity around them. In the physics lab, trivial experiments are what’s taught and practiced. Students collect tiny measurements, durations, and weights, filling up record books. Teachers inspect these with an air of grand seriousness, convincing students that the errors and shortcomings in them are profound discoveries.

This is the procedure of formal education. There’s nothing inherently wrong with it. However, in the outside world—in trade, markets, and skilled professions—far more impressive procedures, actions, meticulous inspections, measurements, durations, weights, plans, and more take place without any pretense, hypocritical theatrics, marks, exams, or anything of the sort.

I have stumbled into many such arenas. What I’ve seen in all those places is that valuable knowledge isn’t shared with others by those who possess it, under any circumstances. I’ve even heard that in the past, a master craftsman would send young apprentices to sharpen chisels during the execution of skilled work, just to prevent them from quickly picking up the secrets of the trade.

At school and elsewhere, instead of taking notes from what teachers taught in class, I had a habit of directly reading and studying from textbooks. I recall not having much greed for the marks teachers gave. There are other reasons behind this too, which I won’t mention here.

While studying for my degree, I set out to buy several physics textbooks and study them directly as part of this approach.

That’s when I realized my mistake. In each hefty textbook, only a small section was part of the Kerala University syllabus. I had to sift through and study just that portion.

Textbooks contain all sorts of profound information—derivations, theories, laws, experiments, and more.

But studying all this without any clear purpose or utility amounted to nothing.

Yet, when thinking this way, a legitimate question arises: Aren’t the people who have created the scientific progress, industries, machines, computers, mobile devices, cars, trucks, rockets, spacecraft, and so much more—all the advancements we see in the world today—products of this very formal education?

The clear answer to that is another question in return: Is that really the case?

[VED]

I’ve noticed that higher degrees and other qualifications from formal education do have a specific kind of utility. I’ll mention more about that later.

But before that, let me share some thoughts that came to mind about what’s taught in engineering colleges and courses like BA, MA, BSc, MSc, and so on.

About 30 years ago, I happened to see a mechanical engineering graduate studying intensely for the entrance exam to get into an IIM (Indian Institute of Management). Back then, it was a time when the general public believed that engineering education imparted profound knowledge. I noticed that this person had a decent command of English.

Out of curiosity, and without any particular intent, I asked him in English whether, since he had completed his mechanical engineering studies, he could use the profound knowledge gained from it to do something. His response came with a simple laugh:

“When I joined college to study mechanical engineering, I thought that by the end of the nearly five-year course, I’d gain substantial knowledge about how the vehicles and machines we see in this country work. But after four and a half years of study, there’s been no change at all in my ignorance about how these things function compared to when I first joined college.”

Some years ago, I penned a short book titled *COMPULSORY FORMAL EDUCATION: A Travesty!* The inclusion of the word "education" in the title likely resulted in fewer readers. However, that book wasn’t about education itself. Instead, it was about the world beyond formal education.

A few years back, a member of an industrial family from northern India read the book and shared an opinion along these lines:

*QUOTE: My father runs an industrial plant. I’m someone who completed a mechanical engineering education. Yet, nothing I studied in engineering college has been useful or applicable in our industry. I completely agree with the views you expressed in your book. END OF QUOTE.*

This person could express such an opinion because he was part of a family that owned an industry.

The qualifications provided by formal education aren’t entirely useless. Rather, they do have a purpose. What that purpose is, I’ll need to elaborate on later.

[VED]

It doesn’t seem like many of the world’s industries are started or run using the knowledge and information gained from formal colleges and schools. There might be some who have done so, but generally, it feels like among the many things included in formal education, only a very minute aspect might occasionally connect to various trades, businesses, or industries.

I’ve seen some of my classmates who, after completing their MSc, hold high-ranking technical government positions. However, the work they do requires only a very trivial amount of technical knowledge—something that many people with basic awareness could pick up in just a few months.

I’ll mention another observation related to this later.

For many industries requiring technical knowledge, the founders often acquire that knowledge on their own—either by gathering it themselves, learning through hearsay, observation, and hands-on experience, using available technical tools, paying consultation fees to technical advisors and experts, working in other industries, or collaborating with people skilled in different areas. This is how many establish their own industries and commercial ventures.

It’s not through the knowledge gained from 10 to 20 years of formal education.

Every entrepreneur has access to various platforms to acquire the technical knowledge they need through reading and learning. In earlier times, knowing English often made it easier to connect with technical knowledge and the spaces that provided such information.

Today, with the internet and some familiarity with English, this is still convenient. Technical knowledge is also widely available in regional languages. However, such knowledge often comes with the potential limitations or filters of a translator.

[VED]

There’s a point where all arguments against formal education fall flat. We can head in that direction later.

For my pre-degree, I took the second group, which meant no mathematics. Instead, I studied biology. When I later pursued a BSc in physics for my degree, a major problem arose. Mathematics was a subsidiary subject for the degree. I hadn’t touched math for two years—how was I supposed to study calculus, matrices, statistics, and the like now? How could I fill the gap left by two years without studying it?

Someone working as a clerk in a central government office offered to teach me mathematics. This person had an MSc in mathematics. There was no real connection between their MSc in math and their government office job. It was like someone who trained as a carpenter ending up as a cook in a hotel. What they studied had no practical use in their field of work.

But when it comes to government jobs, there’s no real need for specialized knowledge, work experience, or even language skills. Even if there were, it’s rare to find ordinary people with the courage to ask government officials about such things or discuss them. I don’t have any direct experience with that.

I told this person that I only needed him to teach me the math I’d missed over those two years. That’s when I got a response that felt like a revelation. He said that even without studying the math I’d missed for two years, I could easily learn the mathematics required as a subsidiary subject for my degree without any difficulty. To put it plainly, the fact that I hadn’t studied math for two years during pre-degree wouldn’t pose any disadvantage—I could directly tackle the math needed for my degree.

Back then, I didn’t fully grasp the depth of that revelation, but later I realised that most of what’s considered profound knowledge today can be learned directly. There’s no need for the 10 to 20 years of compulsory formal education for such things.

However, I don’t see any connection between the objectives the English East India Company had in mind when it introduced formal education to this subcontinent and what formal education provides today.

[VED]

How can people without compulsory formal education build spacecraft to the Moon and Mars? How can they create computers and mobile phones? How can they manufacture lathes, vehicle engines, and other machinery? How can they construct dams and multi-story buildings?

The clear answer is that it doesn’t seem like any amount of years spent studying in colleges or elsewhere would enable a single person to master most of these things. For instance, having an MSc or PhD in physics doesn’t appear sufficient to build spacecraft to the Moon or Mars. Similarly, it doesn’t seem like such educational qualifications would allow someone to manufacture a computer hard disk or motherboard.

To acquire this kind of knowledge, different strategies are needed. To put it plainly, such technical expertise must be extracted from places where it already exists. However, this isn’t knowledge you can simply steal by breaking a window or door. It requires tactics, cunning, feigned loyalty, and pretended distress to infiltrate those spaces—acting with friendliness, respect, and false indebtedness to gain access to the technical know-how available there.

Feudal-language nations have often employed such strategies. I won’t elaborate further on this here.

Frequently, the significant technical knowledge behind machinery and technological ventures lies with the companies that supply the necessary components. Those working on a project may possess various kinds of expertise in different ways. In today’s context, a person studying physics in college could, if they wanted, gain knowledge about space travel. Likewise, someone who didn’t attend college could acquire the same knowledge. However, neither group can progress beyond a certain limit.

The journey forward requires substantial financial investment, practical application of machinery and technical knowledge, and learning through experience.

NASA’s Viking spacecraft landed on Mars in 1976. The technology used back then is far less advanced than what’s available to an average person today through a smartphone.

What’s the point here?

If someone is willing to invest 450 crore rupees, many could, on an experimental basis, build a vehicle to Mars. The reality is that, provided there are no licensing hurdles, along with general knowledge, technical expertise, tools, and expert advice are all accessible.

In India, the government often funds such projects, which can provide job experience, personal connections, and high-ranking positions to certain individuals. Later, these people leverage their work experience, personal networks, the prestige of having retired from senior roles, substantial pension benefits, and more to start their own consultancy ventures or companies.

What benefit this brings to the feudal-language nation that made the massive investment or its people is worth pondering. Things operate differently in feudal-language nations compared to English-speaking ones.

The success of their private ventures might be portrayed as the success of the Indian nation itself.

[VED]

However, to be honest, the depictions provided above are irrelevant. The reason is that in this country, only a very small fraction of those who pursue formal education do so with the intent of engaging in such endeavours.

The majority of the younger generation will end up in ordinary jobs. Engaging in various manual trades, driving taxis, operating auto-rickshaws, working as electricians—these are among the hundreds of jobs and businesses that, in reality, most people take up. Formal education doesn’t need to provide any of the skills required for these occupations, because the means to acquire them are available elsewhere.

Yet, by attributing undue prestige and value to a utterly hollow formal education system, it creates a setup that mentally degrades a large group of people who don’t attain grand degrees. This is the general "benefit" that formal education offers today.

To illustrate the hollow nature of formal education, here are a few examples.

Many years ago, I was living in a metropolitan city. At that time, a well-known college there launched a new study programme—an evening class on Travel & Tourism. Assuming it was a field closely tied to English, I enrolled in the programme. It offered a diploma.

When the course began, I noticed that about 60% of the students were lagging in English, while the other 40% had decent familiarity with it. The instructors were professors of history, social sciences, management, and similar subjects—some even had doctorates.

Each day, a different professor would come to class and talk about kings, management theories, and other topics. We had to take notes and write some essays. I couldn’t figure out what any of it had to do with travel and tourism. But none of the students seemed to have major complaints. For many, the class provided an opportunity to make new friends. Plus, they got to enter and exit a prestigious city college and connect with English-speaking peers.

While this was going on, I joined a travel agency as a publicity executive trainee, leveraging the backing of this study programme. It was an agency trying to operate in an English-speaking environment.

It was there that I realized there was no real connection between what was taught in college and actual travel and tourism. In this commercial field, the work involved IATA regulations, ticketing, tour bus operations, securing hotel rooms, pilgrimage tourism, arranging related food services, passport-related matters, overseas employment, and more.

Yet, the students who attended the college course didn’t seem too bothered. The college authorities had quickly managed to secure university recognition for the programme. Their aim was government jobs. I didn’t stick around to complete the course.

It seems this diploma gained recognition as an educational qualification for certain decent executive roles in the state government’s tourism department. That’s something that likely benefited those who participated in the programme.

There’s a lot to think about in relation to this. At first glance, it might seem that the real issue is unqualified people ending up in high positions, but that’s not where the actual problem lies.

First, it’s a diploma programme that feels like little more than a pastime.

Second, once it received university recognition, the professors and others involved became the overlords of the programme—acting as experts and advisors. It seems they might have gained eligibility for prominent roles in state tourism activities.

Third, those with actual work experience get no value. With the arrival of newly minted, highly educated individuals, those with experience but no formal education are side-lined — much like what happened to old-school homeopaths and traditional healers.

Those who joined this educational programme certainly came out ahead.

It’s unclear whether those who design such study programmes and their syllabi have any real understanding of their true worth, or any sense of obligation or interest in them. On reflection, it feels like many of these educational initiatives are crafted primarily for the selfish interests of their creators.

These are fairly obvious observations. However, the core issue arises when people without substantial English proficiency end up in top positions. This can create mental strain for those under them. One way to avoid this is to secure higher salaries. Alternatively, they might create another layer of people beneath them to manage.

This kind of mess wasn’t what the English East India Company had envisioned.

Today, such study programmes might have advanced significantly in their curriculum—I’m not certain.

But neither work experience nor educational qualifications are what give value or quality to an enterprise. Rather, it’s pristine English—untainted by hierarchical codes—that does so.

[VED]

Many years ago, a realisation dawned on me that there’s a lack of clear understanding about what should be taught or why certain subjects are taught in many formal education systems. However, as a qualification that serves as a weapon to dominate others, those who pursue this formal education desire it and show admiration and loyalty toward it.

The first thing that caught my attention was English BA, MA, and doctorate degrees. Over the course of my life, I’ve interacted with some people holding such qualifications. Some of them could speak English fairly well, while others couldn’t speak it at all. A few could even converse in American or British accents.

But generally speaking, I didn’t see anything in any of them that justified the need for an English BA or MA degree. This unsettling thought arose in me from the context of my own familiarity with English.

I’m not a scholar or someone with profound knowledge of the English language. However, from a very young age, without any intent to earn educational qualifications, I’ve read numerous classic English literary works or come across references to them. Names like Oscar Wilde, Somerset Maugham, Charles Dickens, R.L. Stevenson, Sir Walter Scott, Mark Twain, Jane Austen, the Brontë Sisters, Enid Blyton, Jack London, Arthur Conan Doyle, and many others come to mind. These are all writers either from England, or who admired England, or cherished English traditions.

Many English BA and MA holders might be familiar with these writers’ names from hearing about them or referencing them for exams. But often, they haven’t had the direct experience of reading their works.

Beyond the writers mentioned above, there were other English authors known in earlier times—Frank Yerby, Barbara Cartland, James Hadley Chase, Erle Stanley Gardner, and countless others.

Some MA holders, after becoming English lecturers or similar, might strengthen their connection with such writings. I’m not certain. Some might read a few of Shakespeare’s works and quote them on various platforms. But note that I’ve deliberately omitted Shakespeare’s name from the list above. My stance is that Shakespeare doesn’t belong in the same category as these writers.

What’s in the writings of Oscar Wilde, Somerset Maugham, Charles Dickens, R.L. Stevenson, Sir Walter Scott, Mark Twain, Jane Austen, the Brontë Sisters, Enid Blyton, Jack London, and others? Don’t we have our own Kalidasa and others like him?

To address this upfront: Kalidasa’s connection with Malayalis and Malabaris is something that has only emerged relatively recently. Let’s set that topic aside for now.

The writers I’ve mentioned above can’t be compared to Kalidasa or similar figures. The reason is that they often depicted the lives of ordinary people in England. What’s in the lives of these ordinary folk? Don’t our regional works feature kings, queens, emperors, empresses, high-ranking officials, ministers, gang leaders, labour leaders, workers, rickshaw pullers, and more?

When viewed in isolation, this question might seem to hold some value. However, while Malayalam, Tamil, Telugu, Kannada, Hindi, and other such languages can be compared to one another, pristine English stands apart. The difference between these languages and pristine English is like that between a wild beast and a gentle-natured human. Feudal languages contain codes that drive people to tear each other apart and encourage such behaviour. Pristine English doesn’t operate that way.

The reality is that even the English themselves aren’t aware of this distinction.

[VED]

Long ago, I knew someone who had earned an MA in English. That this person—who had no significant connection to English classical literature, no loyalty to England, or even to the English language—managed to obtain an MA was astonishing in itself. However, since this has become a common occurrence today, it doesn’t warrant special scrutiny.

What did feel like a major issue worth considering was when, a few years later, this person received a PhD also in English. What exactly are these PhD degrees meant to signify? Yet, I later realized that this is a routine event not just in this country but in many others as well.

Though much could be said about this, I won’t delve into that direction. Besides, there’s no point in blaming anyone. The systems themselves are utterly rotten, and no one today can be held accountable for this decay. Things began sliding into this state decades before these individuals were even born.

Recently, I had the chance to look at the notes for an English MA from a university. Much of it consisted of articles blaming and accusing England. This naturally led to the question: Why bother studying so hard about such a supposedly wicked country and its native language?

Years ago, an English professor from a college in Kerala remarked that there’s no longer any need to teach English classical literature. There are plenty of new writers today, and India itself has numerous English literary figures. This professor recommended a work by a writer who, basing her story in Kottayam, wrote a Malayalam tale in English with a Malayalam flavour, won a British literary prize, and gained worldwide fame. The professor deemed it suitable for an MA curriculum.

I had read this particular work many years ago. As a piece of literature, it’s indeed a splendid novel that offers profound enjoyment. However, I don’t believe that the sole purpose of an English MA is literary appreciation.

[VED]

It is said that English classical literature holds a significant mental and cultural elevation. Beyond the fact that people can converse with one another without any sense of superiority or inferiority, those who engage in such conversations experience a profound sense of personal and mental freedom.

However, this is not the reason why grandeur is seen in English classical literature. This grandeur can, to some extent, be claimed by all English works being written today.

A large portion of those who write English literary works today are not traditionally English by heritage. They are individuals who, through various means—whether linguistic or by place of residence (domicile)—have transitioned into English or English-speaking nations, either temporarily or permanently, from other languages and regions.

Many of them live in two or more languages. It may well be true that many of them feel no significant loyalty, obligation, or gratitude toward English. When they need a broader mental convenience, they turn to English; but when they feel like experiencing or enjoying the subservience of others, they revert to their regional languages. This has become their daily practice.

Those who have entered English from the outside have, today, muddied its pristine nature. In humour, witty dialogue, debates, fierce intellectual arguments, and more, this group has significantly contributed a vast cultural wealth to English—drawing from the abusive language and mentally piercing expressions of their regional tongues.

English classical literature, however, is a grand collection of works that stands free of any abusive language. The fact that it has built an immense wealth of words without relying on sexual innuendos or anything else that might improperly sway the mind, all while holding the reader’s attention, is itself a marvel.

Moreover, there may be English literary works written by Indian writers that do not trap readers in various forms of guilt tied to respect or subservience, nor preach to them—though this is not certain. Even so, such writers may, in various ways, be reacting to their local social environments through their works.

The greatest glory of English classical literature lies in the fact that it had no conception of these notions of subservience or respect. This mindset is what others should experience and understand. There is no point in this being realized by isolated individuals alone—it must spread throughout society.

At this juncture, let us briefly mention this concept of respect and subservience before moving forward.

[VED]

QUOTE: "English literary works that do not trap a person in various forms of guilt tied to respect and subservience, nor preach." END OF QUOTE

The above quote is from the previous text. The guilt mentioned here, and its absence leading to a sense of self-assertion or independence, is the subject under discussion.

During my student days, I lived in a village called Deverkovil twice, for about a year each time. Back then, it was a very remote, inland area.

Around 1982, one day while walking down the street, I saw an older man standing and shouting harshly at a teenage boy.
“What do you think of yourself, huh?” the older man yelled, among other things.

The teenager was someone I knew. After the older man left, I asked the boy what the issue was. Looking utterly embarrassed, he said, “It’s about offering servility (respect).”

While standing on that narrow street (which is now a state highway), this boy had first seen a teacher (a “mash”) pass by. He immediately untucked his mundu, which had been folded up, to show respect. Then, with some effort, he neatly folded it back up.

But then he noticed another teacher (another “mash”) approaching right after. Rather than going through the trouble of untucking his mundu again, he thought it’d be easier to pretend he didn’t see the second teacher—and so he did.

Displaying servility to one person and denying it to another isn’t a big deal when viewed through an English lens. But in feudal languages, these non-verbal signals have a significant connection to the verbal codes of the language.

Displaying obeisance to someone is equivalent to addressing them as Highest you or referring to them as Highest him. Denying obeisance is equivalent to addressing them as Nee - lowest you or referring to them as lowest he. In feudal languages, this is indeed a serious matter.

For example, in a courtroom, if someone were to gesture at the judge in a way that implies “Get lost!” and the judge noticed, it could certainly become an issue. The judge might choose to ignore it, but if others saw it, that signal could create a significant disruption in the court proceedings.

If such non-verbal signals were made in a police station, it’s not out of the question that the person making them might get a slap across the face.

The problem here is that a phrase like “You go!” can be translated into feudal languages as Lowest-you go (degraded you), Middle level-you go (stature neutral you), or Highest-you go (expressing servitude to the higher man).

When the first form is used toward someone of higher status, it carries the tone of “Nee poda” (roughly “Lowest-you Get lost!”). While “Nee poda” might be translated into English as “You get lost!” or similar, the English versions can’t fully capture its impact. This is because the shock of using “Nee” (lowest-level you) towards someone of higher status in Malayalam cannot be fully conveyed in English.

[VED]

In a feudal language, even gestures with the hands are not necessary to convey such attitudes to another person.

It can be felt that the eyes of someone who addresses others differently with words like "Nee - lowest you", "Stature-neutral you" or "Highest you" project these distinct attitudes.

When I moved from an Anglo-Indian school to a Kerala Education Board school, this difference was truly experienced. Looking into the teachers’ eyes, instead of the neutral "You," what was clearly visible was the piercing radiation of "Nee - lowest you," which crushes the mind.

Related to this topic, there is much to say about its connection to the codes of reality, the codes of the human body, and the software codes of life. The opportunity for that hasn’t yet arisen.

But speaking generally, receiving a gaze that disintegrates one’s personality can lead to negative experiences. This, too, is relative. There’s a difference between the "Nee" gaze of an IAS officer and the "Nee" gaze of a lowly worker in the IAS officer’s household.

Similarly, there’s a difference between a female constable looking at an IPS officer with a "Nee" gaze and looking at another constable with a "Nee" gaze. The former is a projection of a code that dismantles the person’s essence.

When native English speakers interact with those from feudal language traditions who have settled in English-speaking nations, they often report experiencing an inexplicable mental aversion. The real issue behind this lies in the linguistic codes of feudal languages. In feudal languages, both words and non-verbal signals can undergo diabolical transformations in form and expression.

Even if the other party cannot identify what this is, they sense that some unbearable mutation of personality is occurring deep within them. This is what manifests and is defined today in English-speaking nations as conditions like racial discrimination or racism.

[VED]

In situations where one suddenly shifts from an English-speaking environment to a feudal language atmosphere, it becomes strikingly clear that a change occurs in the mental and physical personality of individuals.

Anything said simply in English, when expressed in feudal language settings with the same tone and mental context, is analysed by the listeners’ minds in an entirely different manner.

Every piece of information or sentence is analysed with a triadic perspective, such as "Nee - lowest you," "Ningal - stature-neutral you," "Saar - highest you," and "Avan - lowest he / him," "Ayaal - stature neutral he / him," "Saar - highest he / him."

Depending on the level derived from this, various feelings absent in English emerge in the listeners’ minds. Mockery, sarcastic laughter, dominance, subservience, and deference are among the many attitudes that often become possible, depending on these sentences and related factors.

The very fact that such a primal mental analysis and processing is possible in the human mind is something native English speakers are completely unaware of.

A few weeks ago, during a discussion on an English online forum related to this topic, no matter how much was explained, those on the other side couldn’t grasp what was being said.

See the words that came up in that discussion:

I have been experiencing this since around 2000.

[VED]

A few weeks ago, I happened to see a video on WhatsApp. It showed an Indian woman living abroad interviewing the Indian Prime Minister in some European country. This woman was sitting in front of the Prime Minister with her legs crossed.

In English, this is referred to as sitting with crossed legs.

Among English speakers, such behaviours generally go unnoticed. For instance, sitting and talking in front of teachers, standing police officers, or even the Prime Minister isn’t seen as a significant issue. This is because, regardless of what one does, words like "You," "He," or "She" remain unchanged.

However, in feudal languages, every such posture tugs at the verbal codes, pulling them back and forth. A person to whom one has to display servitude, may either be honoured or dishevelled. Even in the minds of those witnessing this scene, there will be ebbs and flows of emotion.

Yet, for Indians living abroad who have transferred their citizenship elsewhere, an additional attitude absent among English speakers might emerge. It could carry the implication, "I’m someone who has escaped the subservience of those stuck in India."

In the video I saw related to this incident, there were several analyses and discussions about the "magnanimity" of certain great figures. Having read many such debates before and noticed their often shallow verbal gymnastics, I didn’t make a serious effort to listen to this video. However, what stood out generally was a string of incidents from both sides being lined up. It felt like a comparison between the simple behaviour of great personalities and the insolence of a woman who didn’t display the expected servitude.

Yet, the examples depicted seemed hollow to me. They came across as utterly shallow and merely childish portrayals.

A British Prime Minister unable to find a seat on a train—what humility! The absurdity in this depiction lies here: no one stood up to offer the Prime Minister a seat, nor does it seem the Prime Minister expected such a response.

In a feudal language atmosphere, this would be outright insolent behaviour. Yet, what’s portrayed is, "What refined conduct!"

One small detail overlooked in this depiction is worth noting. In pristine English public behaviour, people generally don’t lean against walls, rest their hands on door frames, or lean on others. I don’t know how much adulteration has crept into social conduct in England today.

The Prime Minister leaning might have been for the convenience of reading a newspaper, or perhaps to give some rest to his legs and body. If not that, it could be a degradation in the quality of public behaviour due to contact with feudal language speakers who have settled in England today.

In this video, there was also an image of a dark-skinned former US President walking while holding his own umbrella, portrayed as a mark of his greatness. This, too, is a case of reading things upside down. Such behaviours are commonplace in the English language context.

What connection does this have with the subservient behaviour of feudal languages?

This former US President, in reality, lived by the English heritage he inherited. However, there’s no indication anywhere that he acknowledged this. Instead, the impression is that he mocked it wherever he could. The truth is that his greatness didn’t allow him to even recall that the roots of English values lie not in his father’s African heritage.

[VED]

Similarly, the simple behaviour of a former Indian President was depicted. In this portrayal too, it was impossible to discern what constituted simple behaviour. Those standing around expressed respect, reverence, and subservience. If they failed to offer such deference, respect, and reverence, the former President would be insulted.

What connection is there between this and the behaviour of British people who don’t offer a seat to their Prime Minister on a train?

During the time I was studying in school and college, one observation stood out: these educational institutions were genuinely teaching and training students in a modern feudal social atmosphere.

Respect teachers. Stand up when they enter. Use respectful words about them.

In return, they would mentally mark students with words like Nee - lowest you, thaan - low level you, eyaal - low level you, Ningal - low level you, eda, edi, edo (all degrading words of address).

Since I studied mostly in Travancore, the harsh impact of words like Nee, Inhi, Ijj (all lowest level you) wasn’t excessively felt from teachers. Back then, many teachers there often used "Thaan - low level you, but higher than Nee, eyaal - low level you higher then Nee, Ningal - stature neutral you, instead. I don’t know how things are in Travancore today.

An incident related to this comes to mind. About fifteen years ago, a young woman from Malabar joined a private college in Travancore to pursue a B.Ed.

As part of this training, she had to teach at a school affiliated with the college. During this period, the school management instructed her not to address students as Nee or Inhi (lowest you). I don’t recall more details about this now.

However, when I was in college, an incident occurred at a newly started medical and engineering entrance exam coaching centre in Trivandrum.

A young teacher addressed a student as Nee." The student stood up and warned, "Don’t you (ningal) dare address me as Nee.'" The student later secured an engineering seat and became an engineer.

Addressing the teacher as Ningal - stature neutral you, was a far more severe mental assault than the teacher addressing the student as Nee, back then in Travancore. Today, it’s the same in Malabar too, because Malabari has faded, and Malayalam has taken over.

Let me explain the problem with an education that teaches servility towards teachers. Through this, teachers automatically move toward a position of social landlordship, like the Nairs of old. Some students become doctors, government officials, and so on, freeing themselves from social subservience in the process.

But a vast majority of students remain trapped in local language codes where respect is generally absent.

This group must resort to various antics to garner respect for themselves, creating an overall atmosphere of chaos in society. I won’t delve into that topic now.

The pertinent question here is this: teachers impose words like Nee, Avan, Aval, eda, edi on students. On whom are these students supposed to impose such words?

To use these words, they’ll seek out others to target. This won’t bring peace to society. That, too, is a complex issue, and I won’t go into it now either.

[VED]

About ten to fifteen years ago, I came across a feedback questionnaire given to students at a school in the USA. The purpose was to understand the students’ impressions of the school, whether they faced any difficulties, and similar concerns.

One particular question caught my attention. It was a question that could not, in any way, be asked of school students in feudal language nations.

The question was this:

Do your teachers treat you with respect? Does any teacher ever behave disrespectfully toward you?

In any nation on this subcontinent, such a question would be seen as pure foolishness. It would be akin to the social absurdity of asking a young bus cleaner who enters a police station, “Did the police inspector treat you with respect?”

This is because, in a feudal language atmosphere, it’s impossible to even conceive of such respect.

Yet the reality is the opposite. The true job of those working as teachers is to uplift the overall mental and physical well-being of students, not to degrade them.

Even so, teachers cannot be blamed for this. The reason lies in the language codes that govern everything. It doesn’t matter if an individual is good or pure; if the language codes are designed to demean students, then no matter which great soul comes to teach, the students will be demeaned. Yet, no one remains conscious of this.

The police are in a similar predicament. One aspect of their job responsibilities—whether explicitly written or not—is to protect the personality and social dignity of the people in this land.

However, the language codes dictate something else: to classify people, to respect some, and to trample others underfoot with words.

[VED]

In feudal language societies, giving or withholding respect creates significant mental and social problems. The reality—and the grave danger—is that the English-speaking world knows almost nothing about this issue.

English-speaking nations today intervene in social and political issues in various countries without any awareness of this profound matter. This has led them into dangerous follies in many directions, often aligning with the wrong alliances.

The policymakers in those countries who rely on the academic discipline of Politics and International Relations know nothing about these feudal language dynamics or language codes. Yet, armed with a slew of foolish technical terms, definitions, and descriptions from this so-called scholarly education, they have steered their nations into numerous pitfalls.

There’s much to say about the aforementioned topic, which I’ll address when the opportunity arises.

Respecting someone to achieve a goal can, in another sense, be likened to flattery for personal gain. People ready to offer subservience and everything asked of them resemble the old Nayars, while those unwilling to comply are cast as Pulayas, Parayas, or Pariyars—an attitude tied to the social ideology of giving respect.

Inseparably linked to giving respect is the fact that it grants the respected person the authority to speak demeaningly in return.

This itself becomes a specific type of human relationship code, shaping the form, structure, and design of society.

Once, in Travancore, I saw someone displaying excessive respect, courtesy, and subservience toward a government official, constantly repeating "Sar, Sar." When I spoke to this person about it, he said, "I’m humbling myself like this to get my work done. Once I get what I want, ‘Sar’ will become ‘You get lost’ for me."

Though what he said reflects the unwritten lines of local social ideology, turning "Sar" into "Get lost" isn’t so simple. Once the term "Sar" gains currency in society, it doesn’t remain confined to the relationship between two individuals. Instead, it becomes a link in an extremely complex web of social communication. No single person can easily disrupt this web.

[VED]

The big person and someone of a much lower status beneath them—this is what spreads and takes root as the social structure in society.

A doctor and his assistant, who stands far below him as a subordinate. What grants the doctor the greatest mental strength, personality, and social dignity is the fact that the assistant’s personality is at a level where the doctor can address or refer to him or her as Nee - lowest you, Avan - lowest he / him, or Aval - lowest she / her.

If an assistant with greater capability and a higher physical and mental personality were to take that role, it would affect the doctor’s personality.

This issue has impacted all kinds of professional interpersonal relationships in society, something observable from an English perspective.

A lawyer and his clerk, a police officer and his constable, a housewife and her maid, a teacher and her student, an army officer and his soldier—no matter where you look, those at the higher level are often very gentle, while those beneath them, as if to provide social protection, exhibit much rougher behaviour.

These professionals, as listed above, cannot in any way be equated or compared with their counterparts in an English social atmosphere. The reason is that the two groups exist within entirely different social structures.

The behaviour of those at this lower level follows a distinct pattern. They show subservience to those at their masters’ level. Toward others, they either speak demeaningly or use a barking tone.

Their masters typically do not intervene in this disrespectful behaviour. This is because allowing such conduct is understood by those in the master’s position as a right of those who offer them subservience. The flip side of excessive upward subservience is downward trampling—licking upwards and kicking downwards.

It seems that around 1980, the character of the government employment system in Malabar began to deviate from the English administrative design. There’s much more to say about this.

But here, I’ll just briefly mention one point. Today, it’s not officers who interact with the public, but constables and clerks. Some of them clearly exhibit a barking manner when speaking to certain members of the public. At the same time, they don’t bark at those who show them great subservience; instead, they speak to them in a demeaning way.

These are the mental distortions orchestrated by feudal language codes.

[VED]

As long as feudal languages are allowed their arbitrariness in this land, no form of social progress is possible. It’s true that cars, mobile devices, smooth glass-like roads, and other technological advancements may come to the land. People’s clothing styles might change too.

Yet, society will remain like Japan or China—a vast subservient crowd devoid of personality, ruled over by an elite class with immense cunning and physical prowess.

If this elite class can effectively impose discipline and subservience on society, peace and calm will prevail.

However, if they fail to enforce this discipline and subservience, society will see constant eruptions and chaos.

Neither of these states has any connection to an untainted English social atmosphere.

Understanding this gives the upper echelons a particular social opinion: it’s better not to improve anyone. If those at the bottom are uplifted, they’ll climb up and bite.

This knowledge is profoundly deep. In a feudal language atmosphere, those at the bottom are far more likely to become rough-mannered. Elevating people who lack even the basic polite expressions of English results only in losing one’s own peace of mind—a widely recognised truth.

The only way to neutralise the intensely provocative atmosphere of this land’s social environment is to eradicate feudal languages entirely.

This writer has a very clear understanding of many aspects of this land’s social atmosphere. This repository of knowledge came from an enriching English reading environment, a childhood closeness to family members in elevated official positions, and multiple leaps into social pits, connected only by what seemed like trivial threads.

This writer’s life experience is akin to divers who, tied to motorboats by mere thin ropes, plunge into the deep, turbulent ocean.

[VED]

The social atmosphere of this subcontinent, to put it precisely, consists of multiple layers stacked one atop another. Each layer views the one below it with extreme disgust, irritation, and disdain. Moreover, the social atmosphere is, in truth, impermeable downward.

It seems that the English colonial officer William Henry Sleeman (1788–1856) mentioned this impermeable nature in his writings. He was the one who first established a thoroughly professional police system on this subcontinent.

Later, some other English officers expressed similar opinions. However, certain British individuals, lacking deep insight, disagreed, asserting that no such impermeable condition existed in the societies of this subcontinent.

But the reality aligns with what William Henry Sleeman indicated. Viewed this way, Edgar Thurston’s *Castes and Tribes of Southern India* is indeed a profound work—a study reporting on hundreds of castes and communities in the southern regions of this subcontinent.

Much like small creatures walking on water with the aid of surface tension, the upper layers of society stand atop those below them. Supported by social dignity, authority, and upward connections, they are held aloft by the surface tension provided from beneath, preventing them from sinking.

However, if any significant damage occurs to these elements, a hole (in Malabari: "otta") forms in the surface tension, and the person sinks downward.

The state of being held up by surface tension is highly comfortable—basking in gentle breezes and swaying with the ripples of the waves. But once a hole breaches the surface tension and one sinks, the situation changes. Beneath the surface lie predatory creatures that bite, tear, scratch the skin, and more.

It is into such pits of the social depths that I have often plunged. Yet, the majestic and uncompromising nature of English has always been there as a shield, armour, uniform, and companion. Additionally, decent connections, like a thin thread, have always remained in hand.

In moments of suffocation, I would surge back to the surface.

The mindset, enthusiasm, and motivation driving these plunges cannot be detailed here, as they veer into personal matters. The content of this writing is not about my personal victories or defeats, merits or flaws, or life journey. Rather, it concerns external observations.

[VED]

What immediately comes to mind here is that within each social layer, people live in various compartments. Even those living in the same room or community exist mentally across different layers and, within those, in different compartments. This is entirely distinct from an English social atmosphere.

Their conflicts and personal competitive thoughts often occur between those within the same layer and even the same compartment. I’ve clearly observed a mindset of not wanting each other to improve.

At the same time, when people from different layers clash or interact peacefully, one side often experiences various unsettling mental states.

The primary reason for this lies in the differing levels of verbal codes. If servility is given, one side feels pleased while the other feels diminished. If servility is withheld, the first side becomes flustered, while the second feels a sense of gratification.

Now, let me share some experiences and examples that illustrate this.

Around the 1990s, a business, commercial, and employment phenomenon known as BPO began in India and other third-world countries. In the higher-quality establishments of this kind, an English social atmosphere is often replicated.

The individuals working in these places primarily communicate in English. These workplaces maintain either a natural or an artificial English communication environment. Often, they offer a communicative atmosphere and mental freedom that people might not even experience in their own homes. Colleagues address and discuss matters with each other simply by name, without the influence of hierarchical job positions.

There’s a slight issue with this last point. In unadulterated English, when addressing or referring to someone in a higher professional position, their name should be preceded by "Mr.," "Mrs.," or "Miss."

Related to this, these terms also indicate a formal relationship. However, if an ordinary person in India today addresses a government office worker with such terms, the workers themselves would consider it a serious breach of protocol.

But I won’t delve into that matter right now.

[VED]

Another point related to this topic can be mentioned. After the 1990s, among the masses who migrated in large groups to English-speaking nations from other countries, a significant percentage had only a superficial connection to English. They had no knowledge of the use or relevance of terms like "Mr.," "Mrs.," or "Miss."

With their arrival, the use of "Mr.," "Mrs.," and "Miss." began to fade in English. This didn’t cause much concern among English speakers, as this mutation in the language codes didn’t feel like a significant deviation. Words like "He," "His," "Him," "She," "Her," and "Hers" remained unchanged.

However, this was merely a superficial, narrow, and limited observation. The real issue—a profound deviation in English language codes—stemmed from the local language codes of these immigrants who entered English-speaking nations with little understanding of English. In their native language codes, addressing or referring to someone solely by their name carries clear meaning and positioning. The fact that this dangerous situation has still not been recognised in English-speaking nations is the reality.

A person addressed or referred to simply by their name is either an equal in every way or someone of a lower status—meaning Nee - lowest you, Avan - lowest he / him, or Aval - lowest she / her, ("he" or "she" in a demeaning sense). They are not individuals of higher standing, such as Saar - highest You, He / Him, Thaagal - highest you, Ningal (in Malabari Highest you), Adheham - Highest he / him, Avar - highest he / him, she / her, Maadam - highest You, she / her, Chettan - honoured elder brother or Chechi - honoured elder sister.

The fact that these outsiders introduced codes that degrade people’s personalities into English remains beyond the grasp of native English speakers. There seems to be no avenue for them to access this understanding. For them to comprehend it, they would need to learn these languages. And if they did, they too would begin to subtly transform into the mindset of those language speakers.

[VED]

The imagination to write about the strange transformations that human personality undergoes in feudal languages—beyond what can be conceived in English—plays in my mind. However, I cannot stray from the edge of the previous writing.

Thus, let me introduce a personal experience here. It was about thirty years ago, as mentioned earlier. For roughly two months, I worked as a trainee in an institution with an English atmosphere. The environment there was pleasant because it was English.

The institution was in a large building filled with commercial offices.

In the morning, upon passing the gate, I had to go past the building’s security guards. They didn’t know English. Instead, they stood in a utterly primitive subservience toward the building owner.

To the best of their ability, they compensated for their degraded status by targeting the younger workers in this large building.

Some of them, if they caught sight of you, would ask unnecessary questions. Often, these questions carried the implication of Nee (lowest you) in their local language.

This mental aspect of lowly-placed persons demeaning others through verbal codes was hinted at earlier.

Such an experience of being addressed this way has been extremely rare for me in the outside world. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t worked extensively anywhere.

The mistake was that no one clearly instructed these building security guards on how to behave or what words to use. They acted according to their own whims, much like Indian police officers or government office workers.

Now, let me mention another point here.

About ten to thirteen years after this incident, I was at a BPO establishment in another metropolitan city. There were well-spoken young men and women in English, alongside security guards who knew only a smattering of the language.

A acquaintance of mine was providing medical care at this establishment.

From the perspective of the local language, the security guards were the ones with an air of grandeur and stern expressions.

The English speakers were gentle yet brimming with enthusiasm.

Among the English speakers, they addressed each other by name. Age wasn’t even a factor—just free and courteous behaviour.

This manner of interaction does indeed exist in the higher echelons of many large companies in India, and that’s a fact.

At the same time, the security guards addressed and referred to the English-speaking young men and women as "Saab" or "Madam" after their names.

In the Indian military too, this verbal distance remains strong. However, officers there use Hindi words equivalent to lowet you, lowest he / him, lowest she / her, when addressing or referring to ordinary soldiers and their families. I’ll touch on related matters later.

The security guards resembled government office workers in appearance.

Among themselves, they had their own hierarchies, aligned with their local language codes.

Now, what I’m about to say is key.

These two groups existed in entirely different worlds.

The English speakers used names among themselves. If this freedom were extended to the security guards, everything would fall apart.

If the security guards, who spoke the local language, addressed or referred to English-speaking Ramesh, Henry, Rani, or Ruksana by their bare names, it would lead to complete chaos.

If a security guard called young Ruksana simply "Ruksana," the next step would be addressing as Nee / Inhi (lowest level you. Then she / her would turn into Aval - lowest she / her, and if that weren’t enough, edi (terrible pejorative) word would be used in the addressing.

The BPO movement and the corporate offices of many large companies in India would collapse headlong.

Things would mirror how government office workers have climbed to the upper social echelons today.

English speakers have no awareness that in feudal languages, such human distinctions exist, or that invisible boundaries persist between those who interact closely in the physical world—and that if these boundaries don’t exist, it’s preferable to create them.

If these security guards somehow ended up in England, they’d appear like everyone else. But they’d immediately turn the locals there into Avan (lowest he / him), Aval (lowest she / her), Nee or Inhi (lowest you).

This would stir an inexplicable unease in the minds of the local English population, something they themselves couldn’t comprehend. The common term for this discomfort is racial discrimination.

Those folks don’t even dream that racial discrimination has such a language code problem at its root.

[VED]

I’ll describe two or three incidents related to the points mentioned in the previous writing—incidents that are both illustrative and insightful.

The first is a scene that might seem trivial. Around 1990, I visited a labour officer at a large industrial establishment in Tamil Nadu regarding a business matter.

After meeting the officer and on my way out, I entered the security room at the gate to return my gate pass and record my departure time.

Inside the security room was a guard who appeared to be about thirty years old.

At that moment, a female worker—seemingly around twenty years old—arrived near the security room to log her entry time before heading into the company.

In that instance, the security guard addressed her with words like Nee - lowest you, edi - terrible perjorative and Ennadi - what is it edi?, accompanied by mildly sexually suggestive, demeaning remarks.

Ordinarily, if a security guard used such suggestive language and terms toward a woman he ought to respect, it could cost him his job.

Yet, the female worker addressed him back as Anna - honarable elder brother. With someone in this position of respect, she had no way to retort.

The single word Nee left her with no room to respond while preserving her personality.

Alternatively, if she wanted to react, she’d have to throw all notions of respect to the wind and address the guard as "നീ" in return. This would spiral into a crude, brash exchange.

A woman reacting this way would be seen as lacking manners and exhibiting rough behaviour.

I’m comparing this scene with the behaviour of workers observed in the high-end corporate offices and the BPO office mentioned earlier.

The difference lies in whether security guards using feudal languages are allowed to wield their linguistic skills over other workers—or not.

Where English-speaking workers are involved, security guards don’t have significant dominance, as this freedom isn’t permitted.

But if they’re unleashed with this freedom, they gain dominance, subjugating those trapped under their verbal codes and stripping them of dignity.

This feudal linguistic dominance of security guards is, in fact, the same language and words used by the landlord families, petty rajas, chieftains, and landowners in areas of this subcontinent where English rule didn’t spread.

This is exactly how such groups treated women who fell into subservience. In Malabari, they’d speak to them with terms like "എന്താളെ" or "ഇന്‍റെ," posing demeaning questions to elicit responses.

These verbal arrows—capable of piercing the depths of personality, wounding, scarring, and transforming the inner chambers of mind and body—can only be blocked by one means: not knowing that language.

Not knowing these diabolical languages is like denying a virus entry into a computer.

Now, I’ll provide two more incidents—illustrative and insightful—that might lead thought into deeper realms.

[VED]

Here’s a trivial incident that occurred while I was at the front office of the BPO company mentioned earlier, which I’ll recount now.

The year was just before 2000.

They hired workers daily there. No formal applications or elaborate procedures were needed. People who could speak English well could simply approach the front office counter, state their need to the officer or staff member there, and that was enough.

Educational qualifications held no relevance here.

Many people came this way. Most of those who approached, as well as those at the counter, were of roughly the same cultural level. At first glance, they were clearly proficient in English.

Their conversations went something like this:

"Hi, how are you? I am Remya. May I help you?"
Response: "Hi Remya, I am Sachin."
Response: "Hi Sachin. How can I help you?"

Only in rare instances were terms like "Mr.," "Mrs.," or "Ma’am" used.

This style of communication, unfolding before me, was something utterly impossible to replicate in the feudal language world of India.

While things proceeded so simply, the woman at the counter suddenly stepped away to the back office for some urgent matter.

For a few moments, the reception counter was unmanned.

Within minutes, seven or eight people gathered in front of the counter—a significant crowd for that simple space.

Soon, an officer arrived and asked a middle-aged female security guard standing nearby to manage the counter briefly.

The moment the security guard stepped behind the counter, the entire atmosphere flipped.

Her facial expression wasn’t the gentle English one. Instead, it carried the sternness of feudal languages.

The expressions and behaviours of the visitors abruptly changed too. Many bowed slightly and began addressing her as "Madam." Meanwhile, she adopted a teacherly, matron-like demeanour, "studying" the papers the visitors brought.

What she gained from this "study" remains a question. In the face of her imposing seriousness, the visitors stood in a subservient posture, fearing she might detect any lack of respect in their demeanour.

But within a few moments, the original woman who’d been managing the counter returned. The counter once again filled with simple behaviours and gentle smiles.

The atmosphere created by the security guard at the counter is what prevails in most government offices in India today. Some government office workers behave courteously, reflecting their personal graciousness. However, the general atmosphere in government offices mirrors exactly what happened when the security guard took over the counter.

Simple codes of conduct are absolutely necessary in government offices.

But it’s not enough for just one side to be simple—both sides must be. For that, the first requirement is that both parties have a good command of high-quality English.

Some related thoughts are stirring in my mind. If they come back to me, I’ll mention them later.

[VED]

In connection with the matters mentioned and described in the previous chapter, an incident development that sheds light on another aspect of it can be recorded here.

A person known to me has been working as the CEO of a large corporate business organization in a metropolitan city in western India for nearly two decades. What is about to be described here is an incident heard from this individual.

The office atmosphere is not one of pristine English but rather a completely modern English environment. By that, I mean that even titles like "Mr." or "Mrs." are absent, and the office staff address each other and communicate using just their names.

However, in the same office, there are attenders. These are people who speak the local language.

They belong to a different world. When addressing or referring to the office employees, they are required to use terms like "Saab," "Memsahib," "Madam/Ma’am," or "Aap" in the local language.

Most of them are young people.

If this group were to refer to the office staff by their mere names, the simple atmosphere of the office would be disrupted.

Only by maintaining this boundary can the straightforward English atmosphere be preserved.

For this reason, these individuals are not allowed to interact too closely beyond a certain limit.

It was in this context that a highly educated computer engineer was appointed to oversee the maintenance of the office’s numerous computers. This person is very capable and keeps the computers in excellent condition.

However, during a phone conversation with me at the end of the week, the company CEO brought up the following matter:

The issue is this: an order has been issued to terminate that engineer. When the engineer comes to the office on Monday, the order will be handed over at the reception.

What’s the reason? The person is highly capable in every way, but there’s a serious character flaw.

In the evenings, after office hours, this individual would sit with the office attenders, joking and chatting in the local language. It’s not necessarily that the conversations were inappropriate—just the fact that they were engaging in such exchanges with this group.

What is being provided here is an explanation based on the language code of this situation.

There are two distinct types of interpersonal relationship codes among these groups, and the engineer is creating a breach in the boundary between them. This breach could evolve into a system that allows those at the lower level to infiltrate the space of those at the higher level.

It’s an arrangement that gradually brings those at the lower level to a point where they address those above them by their mere names or terms like Avan (lowest he / him, Aval - lowest she / her &c. If the feudal language codes are let loose without restraint, the biting teeth embedded in those languages will emerge.

Anyone familiar with feudal languages would never allow such an opportunity to arise.

Only ignorant English speakers permit such things.

Only after understanding the incident described above and its background in terms of language codes should one attempt to truly comprehend the mischief wrought by English rule in this South Asian subcontinent.

The fact that they provided an opening for the masses, who had been suppressed for centuries, to grow socially through the spread of the English language is something that can only be seen as an unforgivable act. For the lower masses who did not achieve this growth and the upper masses who were thrown into disarray, this was a painful social development.

One could say that many grand patriots, after their comfortable stays in England, returned and tried to drive out this mischief. But even that wouldn’t be entirely true.

[VED]

To walk around and live in feudal language regions without any address, without clarifying personal value relationships, without indicating positions or honours, and without informing others about large family connections is, when viewed from English, a very different experience. Only with extraordinary mental preparation can one dare to undertake this.

For those who interact daily with such a person or refer to them, various mental difficulties arise for others. This problem doesn’t exist in English at all. Regardless of who the person is, words like You, Your, He, His, Him, She, Her, Hers, They, Their, Them remain unchanged.

But in feudal languages, based on the hints received about the factors mentioned above regarding personal relationships, the feudal language equivalents of the English words listed above undergo strong fluctuations, swings, and upheavals.

I have lived in the outside world in the manner described above for nearly 15 years. I have personally and directly interacted with both the lower social strata and higher echelons.

The people at the social bottom are good. Those at the top are wicked. No such indications were observed. In everyone—those at the top and those at the bottom—what was seen was respect toward those who oppress from above and a lack of respect toward those who suggest that all are human and equal.

Calamities, obstacles, breakdowns, insults, and mistakes—these painful events—when they happen to someone socially connected to another, are often genuinely celebrated as a joyful occasion. In feudal language codes, it’s the happiness of seeing a rival, who competes in language codes, fall in the contest.

‘It happened to him,’ ‘It happened to her.’ ‘His,’ ‘Her’ pretentious pomp will now settle down a bit. Many say or indicate this with a clear smirk.

When such troubles befall the great souls or important people who refer to them in lower-level word codes, it causes mental distress.

If great souls conduct satyagraha or other spiritual weapon struggles, people will cheer. If worthless people do it, the result will be starving to death.

Thus, living in the outside world without the walls, doors, and protective shields of social glory is, frankly, equivalent to stepping into a forest without adequate protection. Because language codes have the nature of wild animals. They have the ability to bite, scratch, stab, and more.

However, if one goes into the forest, they can observe wild animals directly in their natural environment without any pretense, which is an advantage for those interested in doing so. Similarly, stepping into such a social environment allows one to see and observe many things—people’s characteristic traits—without any adulteration.

But in the forest, other animals also observe the person who has stepped in, based on their own mental and emotional inclinations, which is also a fact. This applies to the person stepping into the outside world as well. Others observe and evaluate this individual based on their own mental, social, and intellectual standards.

[VED]

My policy clearly promoting English has indeed benefited many who closely interacted with him.

A large section of people don’t even know that such a completely different world exists in English.

The general perception among those who don’t know English is that those who do are a different class who stand apart. At the same time, those who know English well communicate with each other very simply. (This is not their ability, but rather something facilitated by the English language software.) However, it may seem like they behave differently toward those completely trapped in feudal languages or keep a distance from them.

At the same time, there are also those who take the stance, ‘I know English well. But I’m not someone who flaunts it in front of you. I’ll speak to you only in our mother tongue.’

There are many places where not even a hint of English classical literature has been received. When interacting with such crowds while holding this kind of knowledge within, a significant sense of mismatch can be felt. For both sides.

Due to my presence, many have been able to significantly reach into the inner chambers of the English world with their minds. Of these, very few have later acknowledged this fact.

From the hints given in just ten minutes of conversation, some people changed the direction of their reading habits, and later, along with their families, transitioned into a serious English reading habit.

However, the matter of changing the life direction of many in just ten minutes is something they are unlikely to remember as being caused by a conversation with me that lasted only a few moments, years ago.

[VED]

While studying in the upper primary class at a school under the Kerala Education Board, I showed Enid Blyton's Famous Five novels (for young readers), which were in my hand, to the person sitting next to me, gave a summary of their stories, and led that person into the habit of reading such books.

In about two years, this person began reading such books fairly well. Moreover, he also became part of a chain within that same school where such books were exchanged among students. A strange aspect of this was that others weren’t even aware that such a chain of exchanging English literary works existed in the school.

By the end of the second year, the relationship with this person became slightly strained due to another person’s interference. Upon hearing that person’s very unpleasant words, I asked him, ‘Even if nothing else, wasn’t it because of me that you got into the habit of reading English literature?’

At that moment, in a spitting tone, that person replied, ‘Even without you, I could’ve done all this. What’s so difficult about reading English?’

There’s some truth in what was said above. If presented simply, not just English but many other fields of knowledge can be learned quite effortlessly. However, a common practice in this subcontinent is to thoroughly confuse the learner when teaching anything, making it seem like something highly complex is being taught.

At the same time, the other thing that person said—that developing an English reading habit isn’t so difficult—was a statement lacking gratitude. Because anyone can be simply guided onto this path. It can also be simply redirected elsewhere.

Today, you can hear many Pakistanis and Indians saying such ungrateful words about the English.

That they know English better than the English themselves. That they’re more capable than them. More knowledgeable. In the story of this development that many communities in this subcontinent have received, instead of a heroic figure, you can see the English race, who came to this subcontinent, stayed for decades, struggled, and uplifted the masses.

Those who do not acknowledge the redirection of the path toward quality English are indeed showing ingratitude and dishonesty.

[VED]

While living in the outside world, there were numerous opportunities to observe the various functioning methods of language codes.

Who one is seen talking to, sitting with, eating with, speaking about, walking with, and the level of matters being discussed—all these spread around as a vast social value execution code.

If there’s clear information about someone’s social or professional status, none of the above-mentioned things will affect them.

For example, if a government peon, policeman, bank clerk, autorickshaw driver, labourer, business owner, or IAS officer is seen doing these things, there will be no variation in the address within language codes.

However, in situations where one lives without any status or honour address, these trivial interactions will noticeably pull language codes significantly upward or downward, and that will be felt.

If something small is done in a way that displays high connections (for example, a senior official publicly shaking hands), word codes rise like a balloon tied to a string.

But if connections with those at the lower level are seen (for example, a worthless person from the locality coming and publicly putting an arm around the shoulder to talk), it’s like a heavy piece of iron tied to the body with a rope and dropped into deep water. A weight settles on the word codes. They move downward.

This kind of phenomenon doesn’t exist at all in languages with flat codes like English.

Related to this, let me mention another personal matter to add one more point. I have faced obstacles multiple times in life. The clear reason for that can be mentioned later.

Whenever obstacles arise, efforts are made to overcome them. Often, the nature of these obstacles is like a volleyball hitting the net and falling either on this side or that.

When trying to overcome an obstacle, the side the ball falls on often depends on which relationship codes I appear with in that context.

This can be stated clearly as follows. If desired, I could personally indicate extremely grand personal connections.

Similarly, connections with no value in feudal languages could also be highlighted.

High connections increase value in word codes. The ball falls on the other side.

Worthless connections decrease value in word codes. The ball falls on this side.

This isn’t how things typically work in the lives of ordinary people.

Because in the matter mentioned above, what’s referred to as high and low is itself an extremely complex web-like thing. Often, many take the approach of going with the flow to get things done.

It’s when not standing with the flow that the experience I mentioned comes into play.

Even short visuals can affect word codes in this context.

[VED]

It seems this is the context in which people’s opinions should be mentioned. Asking for an opinion about someone is often a method used to learn about them.

However, even in this, the interference of language codes can be strongly observed.

Opinions are usually asked from people associated with the person. For example, about a lorry cleaner, one asks the driver, the employer, and others who interact with him daily.

About a doctor, one asks his subordinates, the hospital owner, and his patients.

The responses to such questions often don’t come from the perspective of someone who respects the person, but from the perspective of a subordinate.

When defined differently as avan - lowest he / him, ayaal - middle-level he / him, or addeham - highest level he / him, the person’s character itself changes.

Moreover, the reaction of someone in a superior position won’t be the same as that of someone competing with him.

Frankly, this is a very profound matter. In the language codes of Asian nations, there are many codes that cannot be understood in any way from English, something Britain and the USA have absolutely no knowledge of. For this very reason, the academic subject of Politics and International Relations in colleges there has evolved into a foolish discipline.

Many who study this foolish subject and pretend to have worldly knowledge have joined diplomatic positions in nations like Britain and the USA. Listening to the opinions of rebel factions in Asian countries and getting trapped in propaganda, these diplomats have led their nations into unnecessary war zones.

Those who respect someone will speak well of him. Deliberately.

Those who don’t respect someone, especially if they see the person trying to rise beyond his station, will speak ill of him. Deliberately.

In these opinions, words like addeham, ayaal, and avan have very clear directional codes.

Saying addeham is a bad person actually amounts to giving support, if you look closely.

Saying avan is a good person’ about this individual is, frankly, a way of putting him down.

In social and commercial battlegrounds, such word weapons have been observed in use. But this kind of weapon deployment can only be understood by directly witnessing or experiencing these battlegrounds.

In places with clear discipline and hierarchy, such weapon deployments cannot be observed.

One secret weapon used in these battlegrounds is giving hints or full details of certain information. Indicating high connections, counting money from a bundle in hand in real-time—these are things one can do on his or her own.

But in the case of others, mentioning friendships, family ties, or known occupations that turn addeham into avan to someone else is enough to make adheham convert to avan

avan won’t get the value of addeham. avan can’t accomplish what addeham can. The words of addeham or Saar are seen by those around as divine commands. But if the same person becomes avan and says the same words, an outburst occurs.

Similarly, avan can also be turned into addeham.

When avan becomes Saar / addeham and when Saar / addeham becomes avan, a shift in human personality occurs that cannot even be imagined from English.

The opinion expressed by those who respect a person, and the opinion expressed by those who do not respect him or her, carry these dynamics.

[VED]

There’s nobility in England. A form of English feudalism exists too.

Feudalism exists in England. It doesn’t exist in India, Pakistan, or Bangladesh.

This is the information obtained from formal education.

The knowledge that a person studying this in India, Pakistan, or Bangladesh gains isn’t knowledge but foolishness.

Let’s take the England which was there about thirty years ago. It’s understood that in today’s England, in many places, the influx of feudal language speakers has changed the very face of England.

Back then, many things in England were under private ownership. In contrast, in India, most things were run by the government. Looking at this scene through history books after 1000 years would feel like studying the reign of Emperor Ashoka. Everything is provided free by the government. Or, most things are public property. Meaning, everyone is an owner.

But such information only holds true in foolish history books.

Now, let’s get to the point.

In old England, there were people in high positions and low positions. However, the positions they occupied didn’t have the nature of a rolling wheel.

But in feudal languages, every person in a position feels a mental state as if standing on a rolling surface. Nee - lowest you, - Thaan - slightly higher lower you, eyaal - slightly higher lower you, Ningal - middle level you, Saar - highest you and then, Avan - lowest he / him, Ayaal - middle level he / him, Saar/ Adheham - highest he / him, and then. Aval - lowest she / her, Avar / maadam - highest she / her.

Such wheels exist at every position. A person’s personality lies on this rolling wheel. It’s like the gear system in motor vehicles. The speed and strength of various matters depend on which gear the interaction is in.

Moreover, as the gear changes, the threads of connection with many other things in the world also shift.

English feudalism and democracy in feudal languages manifest in these contrasting ways.

[VED]

Looking at it this way, an Englishman living in England and a feudal language speaker, though both appear to be human, are distinctly different beings upon closer inspection.

Moreover, in a feudal language, ‘highest he’ (addeham), ‘middle level he’ (ayal), and ‘lowest level he’ (avan) are indeed different beings. If these three travel together, this fact might often become very clear through certain experiences.

For example, if a property owner, a lorry driver, and a lorry cleaner (the driver’s assistant) go on a long trip lasting about three days, the linguistic differences might become very apparent.

In many places, though all three might see the same things and interact with the same people, there could be significant differences in their perspectives and the ups and downs of the word codes they use in relation to those interactions.

The property owner who views things as beneath him, the lorry driver who views things at his level, and the lorry cleaner who views things as above him—these individuals differ in certain contexts.

This reflects in their words. It reacts in the codes radiating from their eyes, in their facial expressions, in how others behave differently toward these three, in the codes radiating from those others’ eyes, in their facial expressions, in their words, and in the tone of their words.

What to say, what opinions to express, how much information to display—all these are clearly coded in feudal languages. Acting beyond these boundaries becomes unpleasant for others.

However, many things can be enforced through sheer strength.

The fact that what is defined as ‘feudalism’ in English has no connection whatsoever with the feudalism defined in feudal languages (the hierarchical relationship code of landlord and tenant) is something the English themselves are unaware of. The codes of the latter are deeply intertwined with feudal language codes.

The three types of beings—‘highest he’ (addeham), ‘middle level he’ (ayal), and ‘lowest level he’ (avan)—illustrate this distinction vividly.

[VED]

Opinions are being sought from groups of people who are completely different from those in the English-speaking world. In other words, opinions are being asked from individuals who fundamentally differ in how they distinguish between Avan (lowest he / him), Ayaal (middle leve he / him), and Adheham (highest he / him) when referring to someone else.

Even when these people give their opinions, they do so in the same way—categorizing the other person as Avan (lowest he / him), Ayaal (middle leve he / him), and Adheham (highest he / him), fixing him at a level that feels convenient and comfortable for themselves.

From the gentle and comfortable mental stage of English, this creates an utterly diabolical atmosphere.

In feudal languages, the most essential thing is the servility displayed by those at the lowest level. If the higher-ups don’t offer 'respect', it doesn’t cause much mental distress. However, servility from those at the bottom of society is a significant need. Because if they do not express servility, it is seen that they do not treat him as a person deserving honour. The higher man then falls straight into a social abyss.

It seems that this issue didn’t affect English officers during the time when English rule prevailed over nearly half of this peninsula, as they didn’t learn the local languages. Consequently, they didn’t compromise their operational efficiency just to earn hollow applause.

It also feels like the personal virtues of the English who did learn the languages of this subcontinent went awry in many ways.

This too is a significant matter. One aspect of it can be described as follows:

An IPS officer asks questions, seeks opinions, and inquires about colleagues at his own level from a DYSP. The DYSP is someone lower in rank. This person also analyses things in terms of Avan (lowest he / him), Ayaal (middle leve he / him), and Adheham (highest he / him), and oscillates within these standards himself.

IPS officers are at a higher level. The DYSP stands like a pivot, observing them through the lens of feudal languages. This pivot can sway them as Avan (lowest he / him), Ayaal (middle leve he / him), and Adheham (highest he / him).

Now, suppose the IPS officer seeks an opinion from an Inspector instead. The height of the pivot increases, because the Inspector is at an even lower rank.

If the IPS officer asks a police constable for an opinion, the pivot’s height rises even further. What emerges is a length capable of swinging the IPS officer at a greater amplitude.

Such a phenomenon simply doesn’t exist in flat languages like English.

For this very reason, in any movement—be it at home or in the workplace—if those at the top grant excessive freedoms to those far below them, it leads to disintegration.

It would be like Kaikeyi giving her maidservant the freedom to discuss and express opinions about Sita, or about Rama and Sita. Because when such freedom is given to the maidservant, the queen grants her the right to refer to Sita as Aval - lowest she / her. The ability to drop terms like "sister" or "princess" and say Aval even to the queen herself brings a diabolical enhancement to the personality’s codes. It’s a pleasurable thing.

Like a merry-go-round sliding up and down, the person below spins those above.

[VED]

Let’s pause the flow of this discussion for a moment and take a look at the distinctive abilities of feudal languages. Let’s enumerate them:

1. Act as a wedge: They can drive a wedge between people.

2. Divisive: They can separate and alienate people by placing them at different levels.

3. Discriminative: They allow people to be viewed with varying degrees of distinction.

4. Carnivorous: They can bite, like the teeth of wild animals.

5. Act like claws: Like the talons of wild creatures, they can grip others, hold them in place, and even scratch them.

6. Pierce like a sharp needle: They can stab deeply and cause pain.

7. Disruptive: They can create conflict and hatred among people who otherwise live in harmony.

8. Act like a see-saw: They can produce a diabolical phenomenon where one person’s rise forces another to fall.

9. Act like a pivot: They can attach people to a pivot point, spinning them like a merry-go-round.

10. Flip vertically: They can instantly shift someone from top to bottom or bottom to top.

11. Squeeze and twist an individual: By having some people address or refer to a person with respect while others do so without respect in the same setting, they can create the sensation of being crumpled or twisted.

12. Vibrate or bounce: By constantly or occasionally shifting the level of word codes, they can evoke a trembling, pulsating, or rising-and-falling sensation in a person.

13. Create a change in focus or shift in direction: Using word codes, they can induce tilts, shifts, tensions, or pushes in personality and relationships. Since word codes carry a directional component, they can alter the direction of various matters.

14. Total disintegration of social conventions in planar language nations: When feudal languages infiltrate flat language societies, they fill the community with codes of disruption. Various personal relationships suffer damage. Long-nurtured social customs scatter and decay. An invisible, indefinable, and incomprehensible diabolical quality spreads across the society, perceptible to its members.

15. Act like magnetic poles: Word codes can be used in relationships—such as teacher-student or leader-follower—like the opposing poles of a magnet.

16. Reimagine the same physical scene in multiple ways: They can reinterpret a single physical reality in two or more distinct forms.

Items 15 and 16 can be elaborated on in the next piece of writing.

[VED]

I am explaining the 15ᵗʰ item from the previous post:

In feudal languages, in personal relationships such as guru-disciple or leader-follower, and in the widespread organisations they create, there exists an attraction from top to bottom. And vice versa.

Imagine the leader above as a magnet. The south pole of this magnet points downwards.

The north pole of the follower, who is also a magnet, sticks to it.

When viewed through word codes, this situation involves a leader addressing the follower as "nee" (lowest you), while the follower addresses the leader with terms like "chetan" (elder brother), "Saar," or "angunnu" (a respectful term for highly honoured "you").

This is a strong bond.

In feudal languages, a movement consisting of one leader and many followers is like numerous follower-magnets sticking to the magnet above.

An essential component of this bond’s strength is the respect that followers can express through word codes.

Communication links like "nee - ningal" (lowest you - middle level you), "nee - Saar (lowest you - highest you)," "nee - angunnu (lowest you - highly honoured you)," "nee - chetan (lowest you - honoured elder brother)," "ningal - saar (middle level you - highest you)," "ningal - chetan (middle level you - honoured elder brother)," "nee - chechi" (lowest you - honoured elder sister), etc., represent these magnetic guru-disciple or leader-follower relationships.

What can damage such a strong, regimented leadership bond is disrespect, which can spread through this relationship like a contagious disease. If someone conveys information to a follower that diminishes the value of the leader or guru, the bond breaks there. Wherever this information reaches amongst the followers, the bond will break in all those places.

You could say it’s like cutting each thread with a knife, but the matter is a bit more complex.

Bad information actually functions as a powerful code. This code flips the follower’s magnetic code upside down. The north pole turns downwards, and the south pole takes its place.

Where there was a connecting link, two south poles now face each other. The follower’s south pole repels and moves away from the leader’s magnetic field.

To illustrate what this flipping looks like in word codes, let me provide an example through a narrative.

Around 1947, at Sabarmati Ashram, the person in the most revered guru position committed an improper act, which was witnessed by the ashram’s secretary. The secretary could have dismissed what he saw as trivial if he wanted to. Because, whilst it was an indecent act according to English legal standards, in the context of local social culture, it could also be considered a minor matter.

However, the secretary saw it as an indecent act. After that, there was no point in him continuing in that ashram.

Because, when discussing this matter with others, the guru would shift from "addeham" (highest he / him) to "ayaal" (middle level he / him).

When saying, "addeham did this," the sentence lacks weight in its structure. It becomes more effective to say, "I saw ayaal doing this." Alternatively, with someone else, it might even become, "I saw avan (lowest he / him) doing this."

Where the guru and disciple were once bonded, the magnetic poles flip. "Addeham" is replaced by "ayaal," which takes its place.

The guru’s magnetic pole above recognises this information.

Instead of sticking together, a repelling force takes the place of the follower.

It becomes dangerous for the ashram secretary to remain in that position. He would spread a toxic influence amongst all the followers in the ashram. Everywhere, he would turn "addeham" into "ayaal."

The secretary lost his job.

Those who gave no value to this incident continued to strengthen the ashram and adorn it with various formal positions and honours.

[VED]

We can now take up the 16ᵗʰ item from 44.

QUOTE: The same physical scene can be reimagined in two or more ways. END OF QUOTE

This phenomenon can be described through a narrative.

Around 2002, in Malappuram district, there was an opportunity to casually speak for a few minutes with a white woman at a venue. She was a US citizen of Irish heritage. At the time her family moved to the US, Ireland was fully a part of Britain.

However, this woman, who carries citizenship of an English-speaking nation, spoke with disdain for Britain.

As a middle-aged woman who knew none of the local languages of this subcontinent and operated as an English native, she moved about quite prominently in Malappuram’s social settings.

Without any formal honours, wandering around like this in feudal language regions like Malayalam would cause a decline in the language codes associated with her. I subtly hinted at this to her in a small way.

At that point, this woman said something remarkably foolish.

It seems several people had told her the same thing: that there are "bad words" in Malayalam. Her response to this teetered on the edge of absurdity:

"There are bad words in English also."

Actually she was using some kind of inadvertent and unintelligent malapropism.

The "bad words" said to exist in English are present in Malayalam tenfold. But that’s not what people were warning her about.

Rather, feudal languages have demonic word codes that don’t exist in flatter-coded languages like English.

This scene alone is enough to illustrate it.

She enters a social venue in Malappuram (a shop in the market, a ground where people are gathered, or a tea stall).

Someone says: "Avaru (highest and honourable she /her) is coming." (Oru varunnundu.)

People receive her with clear regard and respect.

Such regard and respect are unimaginable in an English social atmosphere.

Having experienced the pleasure of this, she keeps returning to this venue from time to time.

Such behaviour creates a significant deviation in Malayalam word codes.

Someone says: "Aval (lowest she / her) is coming." / "Olu varunnundu."

A mocking smile spreads across the faces of the people sitting there.

The scene has changed.

The scene of "Avaru is coming" (Oru varunnundu)

and the scene of "Aval is coming" (Olu varunnundu)

are two entirely different things.

It’s like viewing the same scene through two mirrors of different quality—each is distinct.

Or, if not that, it’s like viewing a scene through a high-quality mirror, then breaking the mirror and viewing the same scene again.

The scene viewed through the broken mirror is peculiar.

[VED]

Attempting to enumerate the characteristics of feudal languages is a journey that departs from the flow of this writing. It’s necessary to return to that flow.

However, something else has suddenly come to mind. I think it’s worth mentioning that too before moving away from this enumeration.

Feudal language codes have the ability to elevate and also to give a mental and physical jolt to people.

Consider the English sentence, "What are you doing?"

To convert this into a sentence that can give a vigorous mental and physical shake to someone, one might need to use a terrific voice tone, a terrible facial expression, and such. However, in feudal languages, this sentence could be translated in various ways such as:

"What is Nee (lowest you) doing?" (നീ എന്താണ് ചെയ്യുന്നത്?)

"What’s is it that Nee (lowest you) is doing?" (നീ എന്താ ഈ ചെയ്യുന്നത്?)

"What is Ningal (middle-level you) doing?" (നിങ്ങൾ എന്താണ് ചെയ്യുന്നത്?)

"What’s it that Ningal (middle-level you) is doing?" (നിങ്ങൾ എന്താ ഈ ചെയ്യുന്നത്?)

"What is saar (highest-level you) doing?" (സാർ എന്താണ് ചെയ്യുന്നത്?)

"What’s it that saar (highest-level you) is doing?" (സാർ എന്താ ഈ ചെയ്യുന്നത്?)

In these words, it’s true that some contain codes capable of elevating or downgrading a person. However, whether these become downgrading sentences or not depends also on who is using the sentence and upon whom.

It’s not possible to definitively say that such issues don’t exist in English. Especially when speakers of feudal languages use English, the word "YOU" they employ might sometimes reflect which term from their own language they had in mind. This can show even in written form.

This is more noticeable when relatively lower-status individuals use such words. It’s increasingly likely to be felt in correspondence from Indian government offices today, for reasons that hardly need specific mention.

Now, let’s return to the flow of writing.

[VED]

In languages with feudal characteristics, expressing opinions about individuals of great stature comes with significant limitations, especially when done by people of varying levels. Often, individuals can only offer opinions based on their own mental, social, professional, or personal perceptions of 'highest he,' 'middle-level he,' or 'lowest he,' which confine their perspectives.

To clarify this further: the most disagreeable biological aspects of a person—such as physical traits or conditions—are topics that anyone can freely discuss. These matters can be talked about in relation to anyone without restriction.

However, as the conversation shifts to more substantive or profound subjects, the number of people capable of meaningfully evaluating others decreases progressively. For instance, anyone can easily comment on individuals who have a very limited scope or breadth in all aspects of their personality. In contrast, when it comes to someone with considerable depth and breadth in their thinking and professional domains, providing an accurate opinion becomes difficult. Specifically, when asked for an opinion about such a person, individuals cannot adequately comment on matters or events that exceed their own level of understanding.

Despite this, many people do not hesitate to take the opportunity to express an opinion. They will share their thoughts and pass judgement on the other person based solely on what falls within their own limited perspective.

While similar behaviour can occur in English, the distinctions in personality conveyed by terms like 'highest he,' 'middle-level he,' or 'lowest he'—which carry different connotations in feudal languages—do not influence such evaluations in English in the same way.

[VED]

To illustrate the limitations in expressing opinions about events and developments, allow me to provide a small example.

A group of college students are standing together. With them, another young man is standing and conversing with one of the students. A young teacher approaches and speaks sternly to the college student, instructing, "You must not do that," "You (lower grade you) must not do this," "Do this," and questioning, "Why did you (lower grade you) do that?" The student, respectfully, nods in agreement to everything and repeatedly addresses the teacher as "Saar."

Subsequently, the teacher addresses the other young man standing with the student in the same stern tone, which is quite startling. Immediately, the young man retorts to the teacher in a calm voice, inquiring, "Who are you (nee - lowest you) to speak to me in this manner?" or "By what authority do you (nee - lowest you) say these things to me?"

When assessing this incident, an individual who has been conditioned to believe that a teacher has the liberty to say anything and that others must exhibit servility towards the teacher will interpret the situation in a specific manner. Conversely, someone who has been taught to treat students with utmost courtesy and respect will evaluate it differently.

Nevertheless, upon deeper consideration, it becomes apparent that the third young man is not subject to the hierarchical norms governing the teacher-student relationship. The issue arose due to an attempt to impose authority on him based on those norms.

This illustrates the capacity of feudal languages to organise individuals in a conical hierarchy, with people arranged from the apex downwards. In such a structure, the individual at the top can say or demand anything from those below them within the cone, and codes of respect and subservience are upheld.

However, this approach cannot be applied to someone who, although at the lower end, does not fall within this hierarchical cone.

Furthermore, it is noteworthy that attempting to assert oneself in feudal languages without proper introduction can lead to complications.

Feudal languages can also function akin to a prism. When individuals who are interconnected on an equal footing in a language with non-hierarchical codes are observed through the prism of feudal languages, they appear to disperse like a spectrum, each displaying distinct characteristics, similar to how white light passing through a prism separates into various colours.

[VED]

The writing has now departed from its flow. It is necessary to return to the path from which it deviated.

Before that, I think it is worth briefly mentioning something about languages and feudal languages.

In any matter, words can create differences in size or significance, among many other things.

When a person speaks about another person or a thing, that person acts like a kind of lens (magnifying glass). For example, "He is a big man" or "He is a small man." This example comes from a language with flat codes.

However, if the medium is a feudal language, the change occurs in the position of "He." In the manner of "avan," "ayaal," or "addeham," when this conversation passes through the lens, changes occur in the person’s codes and in the codes of reality that envelop everything. This deviation might also be experienced like a change in the form seen inside a mirror.

Just as a concave, convex, or distorted lens or mirror causes changes in the form appearing in it—such as differences in size, distance, proximity, stretching, or deformation—the same can happen when moving through feudal languages.

The phenomenon of the mirror itself might be an extremely magnificent software-like operation. The prism is similar. It could be transcendental software codes controlling physical reality that are operating in these instances. However, it is not possible to delve into this topic now.

Another point to make is that in feudal languages, any person will be a member of some of the previously mentioned pointed towers (cones). Actions like marriage, joining a job, or enrolling in school are matters of becoming strongly trapped in such new pointed towers.

Therefore, when engaging in such activities, it is very important to pay serious attention to what kind of people are standing at the top of those new pointed towers. There is much to say in connection with this matter, but that can be addressed later.

This topic is being stopped here because there is a possibility of moving into complex levels.

From this bypath, it is necessary to turn back to the place where we deviated from the main path.