Recently, I read the biography of my uncle K.K. Neelakantan (1923-1992), aka Induchoodan. The author, Suresh Elamon, had studied more than 150 notebooks meticulously written and illustrated with sketches of birds by KKN, the Birdman of Kerala. KKN had chronicled his observations from 1942 to 1992. The notes enabled him to write a book in Malayalam, Keralathile Pakshigal (Birds of Kerala), in 1958, when he was just 35, and contribute more than a hundred articles through his life to the journal of the Bombay Natural History Society.
Highly inspired after reading the biography, I decided to start with a travel diary on a family holiday. After the first two days of jotting down the key points, my niece peeped into my diary and was aghast at my handwriting. She said, “Periamma, what is this?” I mumbled, “What to do? Doctor’s handwriting,” and joked about a senior colleague. His handwriting used to look as if a few ants had come out of an ink pot and crawled all over the paper. My handwriting has deteriorated after the use of computers and mobile phones. It won’t be wrong to say that now I hold a pen only for signing an official document or a gift card. It is true I am losing the habit of writing on paper.
While my younger daughter says that these days nobody writes diaries and it is far more convenient to keep notes on mobile phones, the elder one points out a flip side of the current practice. On a site visit with her students, she had asked them to share a short paragraph on their observations at the end of each day. She was disappointed at her students’ inability to write one paragraph clearly and correctly. Most of the students said that they had taken photos with their mobile phones and would submit reports later.
In the 1960s, my grandfather, an English professor, used to take me and my siblings to the British Council Library near our home in Thiruvananthapuram. We could borrow books of our interest, but before returning them it was compulsory for each of us to write a précis and show him. We did not feel it was a chore since reading and playing were the only ways we had to pass the time in the days before television. The habit of writing notes and making a summary stayed with me.
The availability of photo copy machines was the first spoiler of the habit. It became convenient to quickly make copies of the relevant pages “to be read later” and return the book. “Later” would seldom happen. Then came the practice of making bullet points for PowerPoint presentations which could be elaborated with adequate knowledge of the subject.
While blaming modern gadgets for my deteriorating handwriting, I am happy about the writing habit that was inculcated in us. I realise that if I were to start maintaining a handwritten diary now, my current handwriting will be an insult to the pages. I can probably improve it by writing “Sri Rama Jayam” one thousand times a day, like my late mother-in-law used to do, or write one page of something every day like my grandchildren, as part of their holiday homework. A more manageable option is to follow Doogie Houser, MD, and type my daily observations in a computer.
While my handwriting might get worse from disuse, this practice will certainly help me to recollect details of events. I may learn a new skill — that of making digital books with select photos from the clutter in my phone. With no electronic device and not even a good camera, regular writing in plain notebooks helped my uncle to comprehend the world around him in his own unique way and share his clear and in-depth understanding of the birds of Kerala. I am starting a diary at an age half a century older than him, but I am still excited about what this new enterprise may yield. It may not be material for an unlikely future biographer, but nonetheless I am going to do this for my own sake.
