Spontaneous outpour

Manthralayam and Navabrindavanam trip

2011-05-02T13:39:00.002-10:00

It was my long cherished desire to visit manthralayam. Swami willed that I should go and there we found a chance to do so. When I say Swami willed, I really mean it. Unless the appointed hour comes, it is very difficult to make any pilgrimage. This time i could feel it. We did book an accommodation in advance which quoted Rs. 500 per day which we concluded was the normal rate in any hotel in that locality. But the moment we landed on manthralaym road station, I met an elderly couple who have just been to manthralayam speaking Tamil!. So maami told me that decent accommodation was available at Sreenikethan lodge at just Rs. 250 per day. Atleast I felt that Raghavendrar Himself is giving me such an information. So the very step in Mathralaym thus started with a positive note for me.

When we went all the way to the lodge, initially the receptionist refused to give a room stating lodge was full. When we felt stranded, sometime later he again called us and told that a recent cancellation has enabled our accommodation possible. Happily we moved in.

A temple with beautiful deity will attract any person again and again to that place. Especially I like temples which has beautiful and big deities. I do not like going to temples having small sized deities or not so beautifully carved deities. For a person who grew up in Tanjore looking Brahadeeswarar temple, it is difficult to appreciate small sized deities or unattractive deities. Though divinity is same in all such forms, my human mind perceives attraction only in bigger beautiful forms. But I was proved entirely wrong when I visited manthralaym and later Viroopaksha temple.

The first darshan at Manthralyam was immensely satisfying. I communicated my heart’s concern with Ragavendrar and I felt that He was hearing. That place made me to go there again and again.

At mandir daily annadanam is conducted. Devotees should be prepared to spend atleast 1.5 hours in annadanam hall to complete the meal. So those who are in a time crunch, can avoid annadanam. But we had plenty of time at our disposal and made it a point to taste the prasadam.

In the evening, we set towards Panchamukha Anchaneya temple. It requires a short boat ride from manthralaym and atleast 8 kms auto ride. It is the place where Ragavendrar did penace for 12 years. Pleased with his penace, Lord Lakshmi, Narayana, Rudra and Hanuman appeared before him. The structure of rocks near the temple is amazing.

Then we also saw a village deity nearby. By the time we left the temple it was almost 6.45 Pm and was dark. There is absolutely no lighting any where around. From auto stand, with the use of cellphone lights somehow we came to river bank. But to our sorrow, no boat was found nearby. It was utter dark everywhere, and we two had four other pilgrims to our company and were confused what to do. Soon one more big gang joined us, and as our number grew, we became comfortable and confident that some boat man will come. Atlast, after wading through tungabadra waters at night for some time, we did find boatmen. We planned to visit goshala after completing Panchamukha anchaneya temple. But this misadventure did not give us any time to do that and hence after visiting Ragavendrar temple again, we retired to our room.

Next day morning, we had a holy bath at Tungabadra river, followed by darshan of Ragavendrar temple. We took an auto and landed straight to Goshala. The goshala experience was amazing. I am regular to Mambalam Sankara mutt goshala. It houses around 100 to 150 cows and except in few hours of morning, all cows are tied. This tying of cows makes feeding easy for visitors. But manthralaym goshala is really huuuuge. I think it houses around 1000 cows. None of the cows are tied. All roam freely inside. So when we went with good stock of vellam and bananas, we were literally flanked by herd of giant cows. Where ever we went the cows followed and it was both enjoyable and frightening. Then we took the help of a worker there who helped to control cows. It was a great moment of joy to see those cows eagerly gulping vellam pieces or munching bananas. That marked the end of our manthralaym trip.

Our next stop was Navabrindaavanam. From manthralaym we caught a train to Raichur. It was just 30 min journey. From Raichur, four hour journey to Gangavathi. Anegundi is just 8 kms from Gangavathi. Navabrindavanam is a small island. The nearest place where accommodation is available is Anegundi. We went straight to Ragavendrar mutt at Anegundi. They offer lodging facilities and charge a modest Rs. 150 per day. Annadanam at mutt is at 12.30 pm. Othertimes, we have to take our food outside only. Just opposite to Ragavendrar mutt, there is a canteen where food can be ordered.

Next morning, we started to navabrindavan. After an enjoyable 10 minutes boat ride, we landed on the island. The island houses samadhi temple of gurus of Sri Ragavendrar. It is a pretty small island and nothing else is there apart from temple. Even priests come to this place through boat and remain here for few hours and leave. After lighting lamps, circumambulating and praying we left the place.
We decided to explore anegundi further and especially desired to see Anjanadri hills. This is theplace where Anchaneya was born. After climbing well over 550 steps, we hard darshan of Lord Anchaneya.

Tired to the core, we came back to mutt, took some rest and got ready for our journey towards Hospet, from where we had booked our Bangalore train. We thought that if time permits, we can see some Hampi temples on the way. So after an half an hour walk from mutt, we reached the river banks and took a boat to Hampi. It was just 2 minutes ride. After crossing the river, nearby, we saw an old Vittal temple. It was destroyed by mughal invasions. Seeing that temple left me a bit depressed. It is great pain to see just remains of beautifully constructed temple. The marvelously carved stone chariot and superb carvings stood lifeless without deity in garbagraha. Just for a moment I thought why such great fuss is made about Babri masjid issue.

From Vittal temple, we took an auto to Hospet. The autowala promised to show Viroopaksha temple on the way. We saw huge carvings wherever we went. Huge Narasimhar and big Lord Shiva were feast to eyes. At last we landed at Viroopaksha temple. We heard that there is temple elephant inside. We purchased good number of bananas. Fed some to cows outside and took major portion to temple. The giant elephant was standing majestically. As the elephant was already munching something, it just collected the bananas kept them aside . This disturbed us. But in a short while, as if to address our concern, it started eating all bananas. The majestic animal gave a friendly glance at us and much satisfied, we proceeded to see my Lord Shiva.

At Lord Viroopaksha’s sannidhi, devotees were standing far away from the garbha graham. They were not allowed to go nearer. Just one gentle man was standing near garbha graham. When I asked the priest whether I could also go inside, he said, a special abhishekam ticket for Rs. 100 has to be purchased. We immediately paid Rs. 100 and ran towards Lord Shiva. It gave me immense joy seeing my Lord at close quarters. Here also Viroopaksha is a small sized diety. A priest was performing abhishekam to Lord and we witnessed to for few minutes. With utmost satisfaction we came out. Handful of flowers were given to us as Prasad. Unwilling to waste even a bit of flower, I accommodated all of them in my head/hair.

Bhuvaneshwari matha and Parvati Devi also adore the temple. Both of them were beautifully decorated and it was a real feast to eyes. As a completely happy person, I came out of the temple.

At last, we caught the train and came to Bangalore, to address mundane duties.

For traveller's reference:
Sreeniketanam Lodge number: 9885247216, 9885247362
Ragavendra mutt at Anegundi number:08533-267733

சிருங்கேரி Trip

2010-12-20T19:00:00.002-10:00

Too short to call it a tour, yet we made it up into a spiritual weekend. Our first destination was Horanadu. From Shimoga, we hired a taxi and proceeded towards Horanadu. The whole drive was pleasant and refreshing. We encountered lot of waterways, few elephants and coffee estates on the way. After nearly 4 hours we reached Horanadu. It is a village completely surrounded by forest. The view surrounding the temple was really startling.

We got an accommodation in Temple trust itself. After an hour, we came out refreshed, ready to visit Annapoorni temple. Ma Annapoorni is in a standing posture and is quite gigantic in thanga kavasam. Annadhanam is a regular feature at the temple and it is unique to note that both at Horanadu and at Sringeri, they first serve rasam, followed by sambhar payasam and buttermilk. As I was fasting, while others enjoyed their afternoon meal, I sneaked in my tiffen box at adige mane(kitchen) to collect some poha which I can enjoy in the evening.

On our way, we got down at Kalasa to see Kalaseshvarar and Sarvangasundari Ambal. It was another three hours journey to Sringeri. When we reached Sringeri, we were utterly tired that my eyes begged an immediate sleep. But for few hours we dodged our eyes and went inside the mutt to see Jagadguru doing pooja.

Initially, my Kanchi slaved mind compared this Acharya and that Acharya for every now and then and made me wonder whether the trip will be peaceful or an internal turmoil as usual. Thankfully, I convinced myself as I was the only person seeing the difference, while the rest of my company were in their cool self.

Sringeri is best-suited spiritual destination because of serene atmosphere, which surrounds the temple. While outside mutt Mother Nature spreads her love, inside mutt, Sharadambal marks her strong presence that it is close to impossible to take leave of her. After a hearty and fulfilling darshan, we left for Guru darshan.

We did Bhikshavandanam and pada pooja and sought His blessings. At mutt, free lunch and dinner is served to all devotees. Though food quality is good, administrative sluggishness is too high that eating there is not always a pleasant experience. But when ma Sharadha has already made us content, this slight inconvenience could not displease us.

Atlast, we had to start for our train. Unwilling to leave, I paid a final visit to Sharadambal and joined our gang. Overall, it was a very well spent weekend.

காசி பயணம்

2010-12-02T20:08:00.003-10:00

An ideal place I would consider to be my retirement home. That is what I have to say about Kasi. There cannot be a more perfect concoction of traditional and modern outlook. Both Ganga Matha and Gomatha are too very generous in Kasi that milk flows as free as Ganga throughout the Kasi town. Every street has one or two yadav brother’s shop as its face lift. And these shops provide everything right from hot milk, malai, dahi and to add to all these bread bajji(that is how my south Indian mind perceives this stuff).

I think this is the only town where in sanatana dharma’s varnashram is still existing atleast with slightest resemblance to original version. We still have dhobhies, mallas(boatmen) and yadavs doing their respective jobs. Not to mention, we still have Brahmins who stick to vaideegam in huge number in this holy place. Seeing the scenario there, I do not think that people repent for still following their caste based jobs.

We landed straight at Allahabad and had a short stay at shiva madam. We performed Veni Dhanam. A religious ceremony wherein woman gives small part of her hair as dhanam to triveni matha. This veni dhanam just happens once in life time of a woman. Boat ride in Triveni was refreshing. After Hiranya Srartham, we proceeded towards Kasi. I was too very excited to reach kasi.

Three full days in Kasi was tight packed. I never felt that I am new to the holy place. After our first trip to Vishwanath Temple, subsequent trips were relatively easier. Viswanath Temple was always full up with both humans and monkeys. While we humans patiently wait in long queue to have darshan of Lord Viswanath, the monkeys patiently wait on temple walls and gopurams to get a chance to grab any edible stuff the devotees have. The unique thing about Viswanath temple is that every God except Annapoorni is only in Lingaroopam. Dandapani, Vishu are all there in Viswanath temple but in Lingaroopam.

After pitru karma and visits to Annapoorni and Viswanath Mandir, one day was planned for visiting other temples in and around Kasi. One temple which I visited with much devotion was Lord Kalabairava’s temple. He is the guard of Kasi. There are eight Kalabairava temples in each of the eight directions of Kasi. It is said that any person who visits Kasi should pay a mandatory visit to lord Kalabairava’s temple also. Another mandatory visit is to Choudi Amman’s temple. Only on visiting her, the Kasi trip gets completed.

The fourth day was planned at Gaya. It was tedious day at Gaya. Pitru karma lasted almost till three o clock. When we were in Akshaya Vat, Sastrigal enthusiastically narrated gaya asuran’s tale that we were all ears to hear it. After fasting for full day, we had a so so meal at around 4 PM. Then immediately we headed towards Budh Gaya.

For our fifth day, we were back to Kasi. Left with no religious rite to perform, the whole two day were entirely for us. We utilized these two days to have a hearty darshan of Lord Viswanath and Annapoorni. Annapoorni devi was too very kind to us that one day she fed us her prasadam and the next day she fed us a full meal. We were really excited and happy to eat her prasadam. I felt as if Annapoorni has showered her full grace on me(us).

With lot of good memories which will stay with me for years to come, we were ready to head towards Bangalore.

crazy kirukkal

2009-06-17T20:44:00.006-10:00

விதவிதமாய் குரலெழுப்பி
ஏதேதோ பேசுகின்றாய்
யாரென எட்டிப்பார்தால்
மரத்தினிடை ஒளிகின்றாய்

வானளக்கப் பிறந்துள்ளாய்
கீழோன் எனை அஞ்சுவதேன்?
பார்க்கத்தானே விழைகின்றேன்
அதையும் கூடத் தடுப்பது ஏன்?

உன் உலகம் என் வியப்பு
அதைக்காண ஏன் மறுப்பு?
என் உலகும் குறைந்ததில்லை
நீ வந்திருக்கத் தடையும் இல்லை

நீ கூடு கட்டி வாழ்ந்திட
என் கூடத்தில் இடமுண்டு
நீ இரை தேடப்போகையிலே
உன் வீட்டிற்கென் காவலுண்டு

நான் பொங்கி வைக்கும் சோற்றினிலே
உனக்கென்று பங்கு வைத்து
நீ கொத்தித் தின்னும் அழகினை
ரசித்துப் பார்க்கும் எண்ணமுண்டு

எனைக் கண்டு அஞ்சுவதில்
பலன் என்ன கண்டுவிட்டாய்?
தீங்கிழைப்பேன் என நீயும்
எதைக்கண்டு எண்ணிவிட்டாய்?

உலகம் சுற்றும் சிறு சிட்டே
உன் மீது காதல் கொண்டேன்
நான் ஆசை தீர உனைப்பார்க்க
சற்று நெரம் வந்திடு நீ

Trip to Mudumalai

2009-05-31T23:11:00.007-10:00

Who will not enjoy being in the lap of Mother Nature? We recently enjoyed the happiest weekend by being in Mudumalai. Chirping birds, green carpet and water bodies are part and parcel of their life, unlike we urbanities to whom these are luxuries.

We landed at Jungle Homes at Mudumalai. Horse riding and nature walk occupied first half of the day. As we were exploring a small water body, a sudden breaking noise attracted us and we were excited to see an elephant that was enjoying its feast. We were able to get a closer look.

Some abandoned birds (was told to us as ‘hornbills’) were given a new home there. It was strange to see small birds eating pooris and chapathis.

The next half of the day really disappointed us, as safari in Bandipur was cancelled due to heavy rain. It seems they no longer do jeep safaris. Only van safari was available and that too got cancelled due to continuously pouring skies.

The distance from Jungle home to Bandipur is almost 20 kms. Whenever we search the net for accommodation in bandipur, Jungle home comes first in the search result. Our enquiry did not enlighten us about the quantum of distance. So our choice of stay proved wrong. Personally, I feel the money paid to Jungle home was not worth. The rooms were not great and food was in ok to terrible range. (they charge Rs. 410 per person per day compulsorily for food). Jungle Home is lesser than a resort and greater than a lodge and thus fails to make a mark. But there is a point to mention. The proprietor is kind hearted and courteous enough which made these things tolerable.

The next day early in the morning we were in Mudumalai for safari. It was a pleasant experience. We sighted Bison, deers and peacock. The safari was enjoyable and made us to yearn more.

We also saw elephant feeding camp. This is for tamed elephants which work in Mudumalai forest. The session was wonderful as the mahuth gave a lot of information about elephants. They were fed a mix of kollu, ragi and rice. It seemed the huge animals were thoroughly enjoying their feed. Once the feeding was over, as if to end the meal with sweet, they were fed sugar cane. Apart from the normal food which they have in the forest, this feeding was to boost their strength.

What we missed was elephant safari. Sitting on an elephant and enjoying a ride in the forest would have been different and wonderful. But safari was already booked to full.

After this, we headed towards Gopalswamy Betta. There is no doubt that Karnataka is beautiful. Mother Nature had been too liberal with Karnataka that the whole state boasts of mountains, water and wild life. The scenic beauty of Gopalswamy betta was wonderful. Even wonderful is Lord Krishna in the temple atop.

I think Lord Krishna is in one of His happiest of homes, thoroughly pampered by nature.

After those blissful moments, we headed towards Mysore for a short trip to Brindavan Gardens. Musical fountain and other fountains were thoroughly enjoyable. The crowd was too heavy. No, it was toooooooooooooooo heavy. Eateries are flooding through out the campus. But adequate measures were taken to control the crowd. I wonder safety measures may require a revisit there.

So with Brindavan Gardens, our trip ended and unwillingly I am looking forward for a boring Monday at Bangalore.

Shimoga Trip

2008-05-17T03:22:00.010-10:00

It is wild. Any human presence is generously allowed by nature. While the Shimoga city is like any other city, inside of shimoga presents a different picture offering sheer luxury to nature lovers.

In addition to her bounty like the mighty jog falls, copious other waterfalls, the animals, the temples, the view points and the sanctuaries, the green carpet and silvery water which liberally fills whole of the district itself is enough to make the city dwellers dumbstruck. There is a lot to explore and find at this place. A best bet for adventure tourism.

14 kms from shimoga city, river Tunga crosses the speed breaker. Gajanur dam is wonderful and one can take a closer look at her at full speed. At the time we visited, the dam was fully opened, allowing her to flow with all valors. A few kilometers from Gajanur, at Sakrebayalu, wild elephants are tamed. Early in the morning, these elephants have a lavish and lazy bath, with mahouts taking the pain of cleaning them thoroughly. Lined up after the bath, they are fed and left inside the forests.

Elephant Camp
Koodali, 16 kms from Shimoga city is a place where rivers Tunga and Badra confluence. Surrounded by various age-old temples and a temple established by Sankaracharya the beauty and serenity combination is so wonderful that place should not be missed in anyone’s must see list.

The bird sanctuary at Mandagadde disappointed us since there was no boating due to heavy rains. Unmindful, the birds seemed to have their good time there, enjoying our deprival. The sanctuary houses three varieties of beautiful migratory birds, Egrets being the majority. Lion and tiger safari at Tyarekoppa is not to be missed.

Mandagadde Bird Sanctuary

Sagar taluk at shimoga district houses the legendary jog falls. July to January being the correct season for the falls, river sharavathi was taking a spectacular leap, leaving us to gape at her. Sharavathi makes four different falls before hitting the ground. Raja, rocket, roarer and rani. One can also have closer look at Raja and Rani before they make a fall. Raja is wild and irrepressible and still generous enough to allow us to walk through his wildness. A close to death view allows us to appreciate the full height of the falls. A guide should accompany this viewing strictly. Different views of the falls can be caught at different points, each being as thrilling as the other.

Lot more in stock nearer to Sagar. Prearranged nature camp, Guduvi bird sanctuary, Honnemaradu Island with water games, Ikkeri and Keladi temples. The weather has to be conducive for nature camp and bird sanctuary. Sagar is the favorite place for rain God, and shrubs and greens manifesting the abundance of rainfall occupy even the rooftops of houses. An ill prepared trip may spoil the mood.

A closer look at Jog

Though the temples are magnificent and wonderful, it is sad that they are ill maintained and full of algae. Insides are extremely slippery and harder than a climb to a rocky mountain. A careless step could be pleased with a mighty fall, drenching our dress thoroughly with the liberally spread water on the floor.

The most enthralling and peaceful village Agumbe is located 30 kms from Thirthahalli Taluk of Shimoga District. It seems that there is one water fall for every 4 or 5 kms and no local cares to visit any. Abbey falls, Jogigundi falls and Barkana falls gives an excellent view. But the help of local guide is needed as these falls are inside the forest and paths to them takes several bends and turns and one should not feel unease with leeches. Only a daring spirit will have its reward proper.

Jogigundi falls
The sunset point at Agumbe is beautiful. Someshwara and Bandipur Sanctuary are nearer. 30 kms from Agumbe, one can have a hearty trek on Kundadri.

Though whole of shimoga district is connected properly through wide number of private buses, shimoga is so wild that some of its places are sparsely populated and a wait for a bus at wee hours of evening may leave one anxious to reach home safely. Hence the day has to be planned well in advance if one chooses to take the service of these local buses. But a journey in one’s own vehicle would be unquestionably luxurious and independent.

Shimoga is a treasure. Wildness presented as such. Interested and patient souls never go out of the district with disappointment. To enjoy the trip thoroughly, remember information is wealth. Armed with as many information as possible, the trip is bound to be a sure success.

Good food at reasonable rates can be enjoyed at Shimoga city. Also, decent accommodation is available at best price. Average cost per day for accommodation could be in the range of Rs. 400- Rs. 800. Hotel Jewel Rock gives good comfort and can be contacted at 08182-223051.

Will the bloggers ever grow?

2007-11-08T02:34:00.000-10:00

As a blogger many a times I have committed the same mistake. Placing our own opinion highly and airing them freely as if the whole world is bothered and depends upon our single opinion or verdict.

Sometimes I feel that the blog world is full of spinsters and bachelors who are at the peak of their freedoms, showering their views and living their lives.

It is the world as viewed by an intolerant youth or an immature adult that is reflected here. At this point, I totally feel such a blogging is pointless and useless. If at all blogging will help in quality writing, will it serve some purpose. And now who cares to read this piece? :)

Unwelcome Guests

2006-08-01T01:30:00.000-10:00

I was never enthused by the idea of taming a dog at my place. Still, this animal manages to peep into my life every now and then, giving some or other kind of trouble.

I have to accept that India is a country famous for street dogs. And beware, not every street dog is as orphaned as its lean, sunken-eyed brother in the corner of the street.

I also have to accept that my neighbors prove to be very kindhearted humans, at least as far as their hearts affairs concerned to those street dogs.

And these street dogs are faithful lots. They wag their tail to my good-hearted neighbor, eat the leftovers they throw and promptly empty their entrails at my doorsteps. And the neighbor has no complains and is happy about his newfound relationship with dog.

A dog is very active animal. He needs to be playful. But not all the time he can get his counterparts help in making himself active. When his friends are away, bound to the four walls, which they are supposedly guarding, the street dog at my place has to do something. He finds my clothes interesting. An occasional forgetfulness on my part to collect the clothes is rewarded properly in the morning. I am of course allowed to collect the torn pieces of clothes and cremate them with due respect.

You thought the silly dog does not read newspaper? You are thoroughly mistaken gentleman. The dog at my place does. The funny part is, he does not keep the paper intact after it is read. He prefers to chop it into tiny pieces, and leaves it just before my doorsteps. And my neighbor admires the naughtiness of the playful street dog.

And come December, the mating game starts. As you know every animal has its own right to search a mate. So is the street dog at our place. This attracts a few more unwelcome guests. Though our S.D. cleverly manages to have all the fightings outside the complex, it is do or die situation you see. Hence when situation warrants, he could not avoid a nasty fight inside our complex. We all watch it with terrified eyes, holding our children intact, witnessing atleast half a dozen dogs fighting fierce fully.

So, one fine morning I decided to put an end to all these naughtiness of this playful friend. I administered stick therapy. For every wrongdoing he committed that day, he was properly given a vigorous dose of a heavy blow from a specially chosen stick. He felt the pain badly, that he almost stopped short of coming to our complex, but for appointed hour to have dinner.

The idea behind the whole post is, those who feed these dogs, really do not care to claim ownership of these dogs when it damages other’s property. They do not have time or care to train these dogs. But it is easier for them to feel sympathetic and throw some leftovers. The dog is brainy enough not to disturb its sympathizer. Either the street dogs have to be done away with or the nasty neighbors.

Inspired Writing

2006-01-05T14:09:00.000-10:00

I met a well-known Kannada writer and my burning desire to write good short stories got provoked to a great extent. But taming my mediocre brain to give complete entertaining stuff is a little difficult.

When the writer told me that she got the whole story in her mind with no effort on her part to think, including the character names, I was just amazed. Thought that this is a gifted talent and cannot be developed with our will and wish alone.

Still, I could to be content with my conclusion and tried writing short stories. I almost wrote two complete ones and realized they were not satisfactory.

She irritatedly complained about growing copycats in writers' world and blamed those who do inspired writing. While talking about inspired writing, I felt that there is a subtle difference between copying someone else's work and inspired by some theme and developing it in a different dimension to give a new stuff in entirety. While i did not brave to discuss my views with her, I am pouring it in the medium where I have all my liberty.

Whatever I write is inspired. Inspired by my own funny reactions to some situations and inspired by others behavior. Originality can be retained in how well the spark is developed and how interestingly it is put forth.

If our day-to-day happenings can inspire us, there is nothing wrong if we get inspired by someone's writing or a particular scene narrated in a long novel. Already I have noticed that there is a connection between our reading habits and writing skills. As we read books, the grip on our language becomes stronger.

Given a deep thought, i can conclude that one is not technically and morally wrong in doing it. Because, how many writers can claim that they generate the story in their mind? Most often, people think of their own, having a predetermined plot in their mind. It is really rare to find someone who generates story just as one prepares laddu in kitchen.

As long as the inspiration is not wide enough to completely encroach others idea, an author has the right to get inspired by someone else's work also.

Sky is my limit

2005-12-11T23:49:00.000-10:00

Is there any ambit within which human’s view is restricted? I don’t think so. Distinguishing and comparing is human nature. There are certain basic criterions, which are to be fulfilled in any human being. Nothing is too holy that a slight comparison would make it lose its sanctity. By the way, my humble opinion (not really as humble as it seems to be :))is, nothing in this world carries any sanctity with it. It is only our distance, either mental or physical which makes us to revere something or someone.

Some politicians and writers were my childhood heroes and a slight foul talk about them was enough to make me show all my hidden talents of uproar and commotion. With time, many managed to go out of that hero list, though few still strongly retain that position.

Though I personally hate to hear anything bad about anyone in that hero list, I have not hesitated to air my views freely, irrespective of the sanctity of the subject being criticized.

I think I have given enough prelude.

It is more than exact that Infants are too innocuous, innocent, tender, charming and soothing that we can almost generously postpone all our immediately killing worries and duties to spend some time with them. Despite the fact that most of the infants forcefully object my presence, as if trying to safeguard them selves from some grave danger, I never gave up my attempt to tactfully soothe them and have some good time with them.

I have observed that each child is different. Leave the looks that some have and some do not. That is out of scope of this blog. The inquisitiveness in their eyes. Very few have them. The instant grasp. Very few posses it. The playful nature. Some really do not have it. The adaptability. Some unique children do possess this. These children really love seeing different people and crawling from lap to lap is an enjoyable play for these children.

Thus, just as we like some adults and do not create fondness towards others, it is equally possible that we like some children and do not feel attached to some, as long as the child is someone else’s :).

In TV shows, the way these children carry themselves differ widely. Some are really confident kings and queens and win over the comperer with their innocent and positive smile. Some with tears over their chubby cheeks, look at their parents standing behind the camera, giving a helpless look, while some get fixed to their seats, budging a little heeding to the slight command, opening the mouth hesitantly, to dislodge whatever was fed inside their tiny brains some moment before and hopelessly looking at their parents when they stumble.

It was always my point that just because a child is a child, a third person need not always get immensely attracted towards it. And whenever I shared this view with my friends, they saw me with grimaced face, as if viewing a villain. Do not really know how may of you may conclude that I am a villi. But when it comes to expressing opinions, sky is my limit. No bars held.

Pleasure or Pressure?

2005-11-11T15:31:00.000-10:00

Long back I took an owe to say goodbye to personal posts once for all. The feeling of being exposed made me so restless that I banned myself from them. But not when I extremely want to scream loud about something the whole world does not care to hear. My screaming starts now.

‘When the occasion demands u cannot say no. Leave ur stubbornness. I have seen people coming out beautiful, and you badly need an external support to make yourself presentable.’ I have been hearing this for the past few weeks, wooing me to visit the parlor.

I know what to do. I hate lectures and advice. I won’t budge.

I was so mulish and made up my mind against the visit to parlor.

Sometime back, I was with my friend in a shop selling beauty products. As my friend was into the product she wanted to buy, I saw a couple entering the shop. The woman willingly digged out the lotions kept, while the man found it a little difficult to accommodate himself in that place. He whispered into her ears and moved out.

When I thought again, I knew that I felt the same way when I first entered this shop to accompany my friend. My subsequent visit to accompany them did relax that embarrassment to some extent, but never enthused me to spend a rupee there.

I never thought that I will yield to pressure and be in beauty parlor, bearing all the painting done on my face. I was compelled to the core that I started to have guilty conscience of denying something too good to myself. As two guards accompanied me to the parlor, the beautician caught hold of me and decided what she should do.

‘She needs bleach’. She proclaimed. I resisted. ‘Well if u don’t like, I won’t insist.’ She said.

So being content that nothing unreal will be dumped on me to resemble a white clown, I decided to co operate.

But I was deceived. The funny patch smeared made me uncomfortable and I shouted. ‘Are u feeling the heat on your face? Is it unbearable?’ asked the beautician soothingly.
So u thought I won’t be able to bear that uncomfort? I am brave. I immediately closed my mouth and said, ‘nothing too bad. I will bear it.’

One after the other, the processes continued, and I imagined my face to be a specimen for the new joinee in parlor. At last, everything did end, relieving me of the great doubt whether this will stop or not.

Tired with unpleasant face, I came out. One of my guards confidently asked, ‘how do u feel now?’ in Rajini style.

I said, ‘lighter. Lighter by few hundreds. ’

Those were the moments I felt how tied I was. The most worst moments can be when we force ourself to do something which we disgust, when we are compelled to explain the world why we have such a feeling, when we know for sure that our words make little sense to others making them to brand us as proud, vain and stubborn.

For sure, that would be my first and last visit there.

Maja - Kadi Sazaa

2005-11-06T00:02:00.000-10:00

The opening scene was so threatening that we believed it would be an action movie. The villain Biju Menon with treacherous weapon in his hand kills an innocent looking guy. So we nail bitingly waited for an action packed film.

But in the next scene, when Vikram and Pasupathy, the foster brothers fight on the streets, their usual habit to decide who won, and with Manivannan, their foster father, being the judge, we revised our opinion and prepared our mind for a comedy dhamaka.

When they decide to give up mugging and settle for some decent living, we thought it is going to be a thorough family entertainer, with Vikram raising high to become a great entrepreneur like Rajini in Annamalai.

When they decide to give up their lorry for the sake of woman Pasupathy loves, we decided it is going to be a romantic movie from that moment.

So as every scene passed, we kept on guessing. But Shafi had a directorial touch in every scene that we remained confused till the end of the movie.

But no, I saw ads in tv proclaiming it to be a comedy movie. Vikram took it too seriously, that he almost cracks jokes even at the very serious sentimental scenes. The extremely hilarious moments come when vikram forcedly marries Asin, and after few scenes, he gives lecture why this marriage should not persist. He realizes how illiterate he is and how bad his past was. He hilariously narrates these to Asin, pleading her to break the marriage. The whole theatre tried hard to control laughter. Because it would be intellectually incorrect to laugh at an emotional scene. But that was really funny.

The next hilarious moment was when Asin narrates the ‘thali mahathuvam’ to Vikram. Really Shafi should be patted on his back for his confidence. It needs tremendous courage to release that movie, to add to all this, to advertise it as the best comedy of diwali. The wonder is, the theatre was jam packed. Vikram’s brand name pays.

But Shafi realized the hollowness in story, and felt a probable loss it seems. Hence he had been extremely cautious not to spend too much. Asin’s costumes looked like 250 rupees costumes from Saravana Stores.

Though I had no idea who the music director was, I vaguely guessed it to be Vidyasagar. He is remake of Deva. Capable of giving worst output, yet managing to retain a decent position. My guess turned out to be correct. The songs were nothing but clatter and only during those song scenes I realized how deprived we women are. If only I happened to be a male, I would have forced myself out to have a relaxing ‘dum’, no matter whether I had the habit of smoking or not.

Asin had no role to play. Neither have I believed Vikram had any. But it was admirable that she did not turn out to be an obnoxious dancer with dirty steps.

In short, maja is not even worth watching in thiruttu VCD. I am sure, after few months sun TV will announce, ‘ulagath tholaikkatchigalil mudal muraiyaaga, Vikram nadiththa ‘maja’.

At home, having the liberty to switch channels, with no need to get tied up to our seats, we can really enjoy that movie, enriching ourself clearly how a masala movie should not be shot.

Being Unbiased

2005-11-01T01:44:00.000-10:00

Being unbiased. It is really difficult. Whenever I write, it is easier for me to be forceful, and stress whatever I think, rather than thinking whatever is right. I believe that way is easier for anyone. Also I never bothered to be unbiased. I need not be, right?

But those who write for their daily bread have to be.

Unusually, I found the front page headlines of today’s (31.10.05) edition of The Hindu written in first person. Then I noticed that the author was none other than N.Ram.

That was a beautiful narration of Ram’s telephonic conversation with Natwar Singh. Natwar singh pleaded innocence and time will tell the truth.

Natwar singh may or may not be guilty. But the treatment given to him was special.

The same newspaper handled stains murder case differently. Even before conclusive evidence was available, every magazine unanimously blamed Bajrang Dal and BJP. It was to such an extent, that the both these parties were almost concluded as criminals. The damage caused to them was too much.

At last when Bajrang Dal was given a clean chit by CBI, none of these newspapers found it necessary to regret in a line even. That made a small bit of news. That is it. It was hard to believe that almost half a decade after this stains murder case, still some people believe that BJP has its hand in it. For public, Bajrang dal is synonymous to BJP. In late 1999, BD was acquitted and still the news is to reach the ears of great number of so called ‘elite’ Indians.

Also in Godhra issue, one sided verdict was given by Indian press, blaming BJP alone, completely forgetting or conveniently forgetting the other side of the coin. This has been happening for quite some time and The Hindu is not the only exception. To be clear, whole press is full of these exceptions and unbiased writing is in miniscule.

The sad part is, even the elite section, which have the capacity to judge what is right and what is wrong, find it easier to outsource opinions and conclusions. It is easier to embrace others opinions. Left with much lesser time for their personal life even, we cannot blame that community wholly.

But it is high time that press should really understand its responsibility and give some meaningful output. The chance given to Natwar was unnecessary. The defamation caused to BJP in earlier occasions was unjustifiable.

Apart from this penchant writing, the undue publicity which these newspapers give is really annoying. While Clintons and Musharaffs visits and the places of their interest were discussed in detail, taking utmost care not to miss anything 'interesting', the scientist Stephen Hawkins visit was covered with lesser enthusiasm.

All said, The Hindu has to be appreciated for one thing. The wide coverage and in-depth news it offers. Still I have not found a substitute for it and that is the only reason why I am still sticking to it.

Interview

2005-10-26T01:32:00.000-10:00

“Where is my tie amma?” I asked my mother. ‘Look at right hand side of your shelf. I ironed it yesterday. Wear that plain shirt which I have ironed. That gives an official look’ told my mother.

She is right. That will be a perfect dress for today’s interview. I wonder how I am still not fed up with these interviews. Almost I have attended a dozen of them. When I get an offer, I feel like rejecting it. When I want to get an offer, they feel like rejecting me. This interview process seems to be a mutually exclusive one which does not bind with my wish.

Well, if they are not selecting me in today’s interview, definitely, this will be the thirteenth unfortunate company to have lost a valuable human resource. But today, I will try my best to make them fortunate.

I think I got ready almost. Just with few gulps of food which my mother feeds me, I think I should start.

‘Gopi, went through today’s newspaper? Know in which country Manmohan Singh is today?’ asked my father.

‘Appa, it is not IAS interview which I am going to attend that they think of testing my general knowledge. It is ordinary entry level position where in they would be testing my memory in whatever I read in my graduation. Nothing more. It is getting late. Bye bye both of you.’

I have an intuitive relationship with my vehicle. I kick started it confidently despite the fact that it was drenched completely in yesterday’s rain. My confidence paid, and just in a single kick, its engine came back to life.

Hardly did I cover few kilometers, as if to disprove my intuitive relationship, my vehicle broke down. The wet road threatened me really and I should carefully set my foot on the road. As I successfully found a dry patch of land, very cautiously I rested my feet there.

Even before getting down from my vehicle, a speeding car went past me in a jiffy, emptying the contents of a mini pool on the road in my carefully ironed plain official shirt. Had it been a cinematic situation, I would have preferred running behind the car with handful of stones, breaking its windows and showing my muscle power to that driver with my heavy punch leaving his nose swollen. But left only with half an hour to honor the appointment, I could not try these cinematic possibilities.

Cursing my fate, I searched for a mechanic shop. Luckily, I found one quickly. After a close examination, mechanic made it clear that it had to remain there atleast for half a day. I angrily kicked it once and left that place in search of an auto. Oh, how come I forgot my untidy shirt? I would go to Gopal’s place, if possible would get his bike.

Gopal did lend his shirt, but the bike was already taken by his father. Here I go in search of an auto. I was left with just fifteen minutes. What if I am late by half an hour? I had been waiting for interviewers for hours together in my earlier experiences and politely went inside with a hard done pleasant face. I would not lose my opportunity if I am late by half an hour this time.

It is difficult to get an auto on a rainy day. No one was willing to drop me as it was at quite a long distance. Irritatedly, as I walked, there I saw a street dog staring at me. Seeing eye to eye shows confident gesture. This unnecessary advice of someone came to my mind at inappropriate time and I thought I should try it with dog’s eye. As I also stared at the dog with brimming confidence, a thoroughly confused Mani (my college mate whom I hate) barked at me. Already bearing a hurt ego due to carwala’s arrogant driving, I did not want to lose my ego to this stupid street dog also. Moreover, I always had a strange feeling. To frighten the dog which tries to frighten me by it’s barking. ‘hey silly, u thought I will be terrified with your loud barking? I am unbeatable.’ I took a stone and pelted at it. A thing which I wanted to do to the carwala.

Most of the dogs succumb to my yelling and pelting. But this one was an exception. As ferocious as I was, it leaped towards me with an unimaginable speed, showing its ugly terrifying teeth. I could not afford to show my bravery and fight back. Not that I am less brave, but for the time factor, u see I am very strong willed to oppose a lion even. If at all I thought of taking my toes, it was only because of the interview which I had to attend u see.

Somehow I managed to come unhurt from that encounter. Atlast, I found an auto, and reached the premises.

The people there were considerate and did not mind me being half an hour late. I went inside politely and confidently, wished them good morning and took my seat. After the usual warming up questions, one of the interviewers asked smilingly, ‘Do you know for which country did Manmohan Singh set out yesterday? It formed major headlines today.’ ‘Oh no, even this company is not fortunate’ I thought, preparing some relevant blabbering to attack that question.

Marriage Rituals - Study by a Novice / Araivekkadu

2005-10-17T05:54:00.000-10:00

Long back, when I was reading Cho’s Enge Brahmanan, the explanations which he gave for kalyana mantrams sounded too male chauvinistic, that I wanted to peep into that section of Veda myself, to get a first hand information. But I never felt like digging deep and left it as such. Now that I will be indulging myself into one such process shortly, I dusted back that old desire and initiated learning the marriage rituals. Marriage rituals are explained in this link by Ramanan. (The source which I read was different and a very mild controversy may exist) The motive of this post is not to explain marriage ritual, but to analyze the status given to women in these rituals.

BG – Bride Groom

Mostly, BG utters all mantras through out the process and the mantras he utters can be classified broadly under these headings:

To burn/destroy unwanted and bad qualities of bride
to remove possible diseases of bride (in nugathadi ritual)
promises which he makes and making clear his expectations (sapthapathy)
Mantras uttered during Grahapravesam

The very first ritual of wedding starts with a controversy. Bride’s father washing the feet of BG. I tried a lot to find a convincing logic for it. But in all vain. Assuming BG as incarnation of Lord Vishnu, the father in law to be does this ritual. All this Vishnu stuff seemed a clear muffing up for me and the motive can be just to announce BG as the supreme guest of the function.

The next ceremony, wherein, supposedly, BG and G are to see eye to eye for the first time, BG feels the terrible fear of possible bad qualities in her which can affect his family and close relatives. He prays to God, to burn those qualities in his bride, which can kill him, his siblings and his future progenies. The next ritual which follows is nugathadi one. That is, BG placing wooden yoke in B’s head and praying God to remove all known and unknown diseases within her. (It is misinterpreted otherwise to mean that couples are wished to go ahead in their life, just as oxen tied in yoke, sharing equal responsibility with good understanding. But it represents a different story involving Aapala, where in Indra removes her off all diseases by making her go through the hole in wooden yoke of his chariot.)

The above two processes seems completely sensible because, before accepting a new person as one’s life partner, the apprehensions which one senses about the other are normal. Hence praying to God to get rid of bad qualities and diseases is nothing illogical. It would have been perfectly right and unbiased, if only Bride is also given an equal chance to pray to Almighty to remove, destroy and burn all those qualities in her bridegroom, which can kill her, to remove all those known/unknown diseases in him.

Miserably, Bride is forced to believe that the person she is going to marry is perfectly sane, well within his senses when he makes his promises. She is denied of her rights to doubt the bride groom of his bad qualities. She is denied of her rights to doubt his promises and pray Almighty to remove those qualities in him which can destroy her and her progeny.

Next comes sapthapathy ritual. Here BG offers great promises and just demands two things from his wife. He wants her to be his loyal follower who can give him healthy male progenies.

As I was losing my cool when I read this praying for male child stuff, my mother came out with a nice explanation for why gender makes a difference. Probably because, woman, as she embraces the gothram of her husband, do not carry any values of her paternal home and only a male progeny carry the values and can be a true heir of his father. That sounds logical.

But making her lose her individuality, and asking her to become a follower is an injustice, to thrust slavery in her.

Though in reality, hardly the couple understands meaning of these mantras, the fact that women are looked down hurts. Vedas, considered as uttered by Devas and sensed by great saints, should not be bound by time for its validity. Hence we cannot cover-up saying that it suited perfectly in those days when women were under privileged. If it is bound by time, it requires revision. If it requires revision, it needs human interruption. If human interruption is warranted, it loses its divinity. Is there any meaning in following something which has lost its divinity? But this questioning won’t help and it has to be undergone.

Warning I: Whatever I have concluded is with my zero knowledge in Sanskrit, just relying on translated version. Novice readers with little knowledge about these can better consult with some reliable scholar before jumping into conclusions.

Warning II: This post of mine is a genuine attempt to analyze and understand Hindu customs. A non Hindu/ non believer cannot misuse it to abuse my religion. This is a closed post meant only for Hindus.

What an Employer can offer?

2005-10-13T18:21:00.000-10:00

I always found myself too over confident to believe concretly that I am gifted with talent to do what ever I want to. In such an overconfidence, I attempted to write a column, provoked by one of the recent writing in The Hindu (issue date 12/10/05).

Destined to spend 10 to 12 hours a day at office, it is extremely important that employees feel good to be there. What really makes them happy?

‘Working under pressure’ this is the mantra most BPO’s in transaction processing line utter. These organizations are best suited for just out of college freshers who want a job desperately. I perceive strongly that this line is chosen as a career for life by those who lack great ambitions. Still, associating oneself with a big brand name will make that working under pressure a bit less painful.

Though this brand name may keep them loyal to their companies for quite some time, this cannot help in the long run. An employee who wants to explore and do more will really badly need a change.

Apart from brand name, amenities which the company offer plays an important role in creating this feel good atmosphere. Rather than the utility of the amenity offered, the pride that ‘my company offers such and such to me’ plays a vital role. An employee would love to boast of the quality of lunch provided to him free of cost/subsidized rate. It is not that he is tightfisted not to take his own lunch, but the fact that the company cares matters.

The important factor which cannot be ignored is the pride which an employee has in his work. I have heard my friend lamenting that she deserves well to do a better job than she is doing now. Though paid heftily, the ultimate pleasure is derived when we really cherish what we do.

The irritating part can be, when the organization/department is in its nascent stage, and least efforts are taken by the management to streamline the procedures properly. The demotivation which the employee suffers is great. Giving way for subjective judgment is the best way for dispiriting the employee.

On the contrary, in a department which is in nascent stage, when the management is with open ears to get good suggestion from every employee, right from organizational procedures to appraising pattern, the democratic liberty given and the feeling of being consulted can really make an employee loyal.

A nagging superior, least interested in shouldering responsibilities, with a pessimistic view about anything new, to add to all these, with a completely hollow head, can make the employee doubt the very faith about his future prospects in the organization. Though most of the private organizations have done away with such superiors and it is only quality that pays, it is sad to notice that few really count the years of experience, which sidelines the rationality and reckon less on skill set of others.

To conclude, an organization will be doing complete justice to its employees, if it offers a democratic environment, with responsible and understanding superiors and cheerful and friendly colleagues and most importantly a really challenging or feel proud work which the employee wants. If those who read it conclude that such an ideal organization do not exist, let me tell u, I am part of one.

Freedom

2005-10-05T17:52:00.000-10:00

This post actually fits in perfectly in Bharath post’s comment section. But after reading his post, I was convinced that I have enough to say to make it a post in itself.

Freedom is something which every human being craves for. It is certainly true that Indian women are deprived of their freedom to a great extent. Or to put it differently, they are not brave enough to fight back and get what they want, in spite of good education and financial independence.

Women are from different mould. They think differently, they feel differently and they get hurt differently. This is applicable universally. So, their need for freedom is also different.

Just as men do not feel the need to stray half nude in streets, women also are comfortable dressing in full. In fact, the comfort level and confidence in dressing up fully is immense. When it is universally clear that men drool on women, it is morally incorrect to induce some innocent. It is really difficult to set standards and description on moral ethics. But that is not the license to let one’s morality fly in air and enjoy ‘freedom’.

Western culture is an extreme. Islamic culture is another extreme. Indian culture does not fall under any of the extremities. The problem arises only when we try to sway this way or that way. When organizations like RSS stress on this point, it is to be maturely interpreted that they are emphasizing a right point in a wrong way. They indulge in violence, an extreme, to oppose another extreme, western culture. The tools that these organizations take in their hand are incorrect. Not their motto. (Personally, I would not mind anyone slapping an errant and saying this should not be done. But who will agree? Especially in a spoilt democracy like India.)

Also I do not intend to give clean chit to men and society. It is sad that the obnoxious incident which Bharath pointed out is not strange in our society. But men at large who indulge in these activities are invertebrates, lacking the basic courage. Not even a single man, when left alone would dare to do such a filthy thing. It is only the crowd which gives them the strength and shelter so that they can hide safely when some one stares back even. Remember women, courage is your strength, which those boneless lack.

An educated women, has a matured role to play. There is no doubt that she has a major responsibility to safeguard our culture. When restrictions are self imposed (nothing more than a natural urge to cover oneself fully) with no intention to fall in love with aberrations, atleast she will have the satisfaction of being right on her part. Just because aberrations have become part and parcel of people in some part of the world, a verbatim copy would not just suit our society as our society is still immature and confined.

Gifted with good education and financial independence, most of the women in India have the good sense to think and tackle their own problems. When she feels that she has to face extra problems due to her gender, she should be willing to fight back and win. Feminity is not synonymous to fragility. If someone finds solace in leaning and lamenting, we can sympathize at her, just as we sympathize on seeing a handicapped, a handicap, which was thrust by her own self. A female who cannot tackle her own problem can can as well get herself destroyed, as Darwin said, survival of the fittest.

A day at Home

2005-09-23T18:03:00.000-10:00

“I think I am going to have headache”, with this thought, I got up in the morning. It was already 7.00 AM. It was clear that I would be late for office today. I had long pending work at bank and felt house needs immediate cleaning, to add to all these I think I do not feel well. Better I would take leave.

This decision gave a holiday mood. Humming my favourite song, i went to prepare coffee. Chintu had to be given malt drink. My good half an hour would be wasted cajoling him to drink it. These days he had become too adamant. If only Rakhesh did not have his tour plans this week, things would have been different. Without him, I find it difficult to manage Chintu alone.

“Ma, give me coffee. Tomorrow I will take that malt drink. O.K.?”, telling these words, Chintu woke up from his bed, tempted by fresh coffee smell. I smiled at him, with his malt drink in my hand, ready to tackle him and handle all his pranks.

I reached home leaving Chintu to his school. This road had become quite unsafe for children. Rather I would fetch him myself this evening.

I switched on the TV and thought of relaxing for some time. Suddenly I remembered my half done work at office. That Armenian contract was not so very important. I did not go through its finer details still. But what if client insists on further information today itself? Then definitely it would be handled by Ganesh. I had never seen an old fashioned guy like him. Insisting on his accepted age old ways and boasting at them. I wonder whether he belonged to this era. For sure the client would not be happy with the details he gives.

That thought made me restless for some time. Should I call and inform Gayathri to handle if at all there was a contingency? But even if I inform her, there is no guarantee that she would look into it. God, why did I decide to take leave today?

As I was thinking whether I should or should not call Gayathri, phone bell rang. Who could it be? Was it Ganesh wanting to get details about that Armenian contract? Oh no, I don’t want that to happen.

It was Rakhesh. He would be coming this evening.

High time to have lunch. I settled with sambhar rice. Not even a gallop went inside, I realized it was not prepared up to my usual standards. I could manage with it well, but Chintu would not. His lunch period would have got over by now. His taste buds had grown beyond limit and got satisfied only when the best is served. He would have thrown it somewhere and should be remaining hungry. What an irresponsible mother I am? Had I chosen to go to his school and give him his lunch, atleast I could have got him something else. Poor, boy would be feeling terribly hungry. I did not feel like eating, after I thought of it. Better I would have a nap.

I took that day’s newspaper and lied down on the bed. The second page news caught my attention. Riot in Trichy. Seven killed. What? Riot in Trichy? My God. Raakesh had to return from Trichy. He told he would be coming through bus and by this time he should be in bus. What if rioters catch hold of this bus and do some harm? The recent bus burning incident flashed in my mind and made me to loose my confidence. I felt like crying. But controlled my emotions and rang up to reach Raakesh. But he had switched off his mobile. He should be a brainless idiot. Why the hell should someone switch off his mobile? It would be better to throw it out than to switch it off. So u imagine I could sleep after this thought? I switched on the TV to confirm that no riots happened near Trichy recently. Nothing of that sort was informed for the next one hour and I felt relaxed.

This time again the phone rang. It was Gayathri. I felt greatly relieved that none disturbed that Armenian file. Still it was waiting for me to attend. Great. When I told my apprehension, she laughed and branded me with a unique nick name.

As I hung the phone, door bell rang. It was Raakesh, with Chintu. So soon, I wondered. Chintu hugged me “Ma, today some new caterer opened canteen. Our teacher sponsored lunch in that canteen as three of us scored high in story reciting competition. It tasted good. I did not eat sambhar rice”. I kissed him and felt happy.

“But why did u take leave today? U never told me the reason when I rang up?” asked Raakesh.

Only then did I realize that I neither went to bank nor cleaned the house. But what was happening to me? Some problem with my head? Or with my stomach? I was hungry. Oh no. Now I have the real headache. Headache due to tension and hunger.

Concerned Raakesh asked ‘Why did u have headache suddenly?’

I said, ‘because I took leave’.

Dare Devil

2005-09-10T13:30:00.000-10:00

The conference hall was filled with almost 100 employees. The Vice President was addressing them. He was on the verge of completing his speech and was ready to answer the questions of employees. After few opened their mouth, there was some uneasy calmness. As if to break the ice, a fresh recruit asked, “Will I be able to appraise my Team Leader and Supervisor?”

More than hundred pairs of eyes watched him. VP could not believe his ears. “What?” he asked. This time the fresh recruit’s voice was clearer. “Will I be able to appraise my Team Leader and Supervisor?”

Ofcourse, VP’s answer was not a history. Some judged this question as foolish one while some thought it as a cheap tactics to get attention. But the merit of that question was appreciated by all later. What ever may be the conclusion or inference, the questioner was a dare devil to put that question in that assembly. But the aftermath effects of that question on him are unknown.

Dare Devils are rare breeds. But leave alone bothering about something which does not affect u directly. Even protesting for something which bothers u much would be viewed with awful eyes. When I happened to travel in a relatively crowded bus, and was annoyed by co traveler’s cheap manners, I gave a commendable punch on his huge belly. I was eyed no less than a Vijay Shanthi, and a lady passenger immediately offered me her seat so that I can travel comfortably.

It is really bad that even a milder version of protest is taken sensitively and overreacted, which warrants harsher reaction from the original protestor. A young man was traveling on his bike and was waiting in the signal. A carwala came near that bike, occupying right hand side of the road. Naturally it irritated everyone, but none chose to open their mouth. But this young man could not keep quite. “Can u please use ur sense and travel on the correct side?”. Hey, a wrong way of saying right thing cannot be taken otherwise. But sadly, it happened there and an autowala had to interfere to set aside the feud between those two.

When the serviceman in the sweet meat shop made that girl waiting, least interested in making few karaa appam, and insisted on her going for someother popular sweet dish, she frowned. “I paid for kaara appam. U made me to wait for 7 minutes. I cannot go for any other shit.” At last she got the hot kara appams.

But is it really advantageous to outburst? Not really. Conscience pricks these dare devils most often. They try to be too honest, right and straight, just because they expect that from others. Containing a stormy ocean with in them, they really run a battle to keep that under control. But what ever may be the after effects, the thrill in demonstrating our courage and victimizing the opponent is wonderful and only those who felt it can acknowledge it. Hence, I salute those dare devils, wishing to become one among them.

Horrible Henry?

2005-08-31T02:22:00.000-10:00

Gwenda was ready for school and climbed proudly on her new four geared bicycle. “Gwennie, why don’t you avoid that busy main road and go through Apple Garden Street. That is safer sweety. I will be relaxed if u opt that” said Linda.

“Mom, u know that Henry with long curly, sticky and greatly tangled hair lives there. The very sight of him terrifies me. Especially when he is out, with his hair loose, that would swing hazily around his broad shoulders making a weird sound. It is safer for me if I go by that busy road. Bye Mom. Love You.”

And yes, little Gwennie was brave girl. It was only when Henry was visible, she felt like a real coward. Humming a sweet song, Gwennie was pretty slow enjoying the fresh air with greeny aroma that hit her face. She smelled someone closer to her. “Hey Gwenda, I think even a snail can overtake u. Pretty cool right?”. It was Bob. She gave a cheerful smile and pedaled fast to keep pace with him.

“I came through Apple Garden Street.”, said Bob. Gwennie stumbled for a minute and looked at him for more details.

“And, I saw that Henry. Unusually, his wild hair carried a lighter shade, making me his looks more fearful. And he carried a huge leather bag. Tommy said that the bag contained all chocolates and candies, which he uses to attract children who reciprocate to his odd smile. Once u use anything out of his leather bag, u will obey him like his pet dog and for sure he will use u for his witchcraft. But I am not the kind who will fear him. One day when I get a chance, I will peep into his house and find out who he is”

Gwennie was now terrified. She wished Bob would close his mouth for God’s sake. She wanted to change the topic. Probably she would ask him some history questions which would make him to fumble. Otherwise too bossy and shrewd Bob always lost confidence when questioned in History. Gwennie was happy to see him fumbling. That tactics worked and Gwennie congratulated herself for that wise idea.

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It was a tiresome day for little Gwennie. As usual, she had a fresh tale about that Henry. Linda was almost bored of such stories. She always refused to believe that Henry was well versed in witchcraft. She wished her daughter could be brave enough to ignore this. But not all parents shared the same thought with Linda. Tommy’s mother almost banned him to play in Apple Garden street. So funny, thought Linda.

But Nancy, her neighbour was almost sure that Henry was wicked. “He goes to Richard street daily and he meets few awkward looking men like him there. That place is so deserted and was used by outlaws to gamble and drink. No man with genuine intentions would choose that place to do whatever legally permitted work there. And u know, the restaurant owner who has his hotel in the same building where Henry meets his friends is absconding for the past one week. Henry is the prime suspect in Police’s list. He can be caught anytime,” said Nancy.

This piece of information gave Linda a little restlessness. ‘But Nancy’s words cannot be relied upon always. Still, it is better if Gwennie avoids him. Gwennie need not be taught to keep a safe distance from him. She already knew it’, thought Linda.

Now, Gwennie could hardly control her from telling that new story about Henry. “Mom, he changed his hair colour today. It was dyed black. Earlier, it was silvery white. I almost thought he would be 60, looking at his white hairs. Probably he wants none to guess his age. As he was walking past, a really old man, too skinny, and probably too hungry asked for water. Henry was carrying the water bottle. But he just ignored the old man heartlessly and headed towards his house. That is how sorcerers are. Heartless and cruel.”

Linda became thoughtful and wished Gwennie could do some other productive work. With her quota of sandwiches, Gwennie knew what she had to do next to please her mother. She went to her room upstairs, sitting before the computer to complete her homework.

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That was Monday evening and Linda was worried, looking for Gwennie. Little Gwennie did come, but was looking miserable. Linda ran to her, and comforted.

‘Tell me my dear. What happened?’

‘He.. Hen..ry’, that is all she said and lied on the couch.

Now greatly terrified, Linda sat behind her.

‘I saw him in his compound, running behind someone, with .. blood drenched knife.’

“What!” exclaimed Linda.

As a matured mother, she contained her feelings. ‘Honey, do not imagine things. Nothing is as wild as u think. Just relax. Forget it for now. Have this hot porridge girl.’

Gwennie did feel better after taking that porridge. But started feeling feverish soon. Aprehensively, Linda rang to inform Walter, her husband.

Walter was in soon.

‘What is the problem? I see that Henry is harmless. We should educate Gwennie’ said Walter.

‘But Walter, I cannot blindly rely someone. Neighbours do not have good opinion about him for some odd reasons. And our little Gwennie has a solid reason this time. He ran with blood filled knife, behind someone. Is not that dangerous? Don’t u think we should do something to make this place safe for children? Ya, henry looks terribly awkward and carries sorcerers look with his tangled hair. I cannot tolerate to see Gwennie like this.’

Walter was quite. ‘Linda, u r not right. Still, I do not find a point to blame Henry. Better do not jump into conclusions. Sure, we have to do something about it. Till we know the facts, it is good not to blame a possible innocent.’

Linda acknowledged. For Walter would not stop with his words. She relaxed, relying his husband.

That did put an end to discussion about Henry. But not to Gwennie’s ill health. She missed her classes for two days and was feeling extremely feverish.

At last, she recovered, much to the relief of Linda. She scared to hear the word Henry even, making Linda to realize that something has to be done immediately.

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Gwennie was playing with her little brother Tom, as he was fondly called. They were in the lawn. Linda was in the front door, watching their little kids play.

Just then, Henry entered the house, with his terrible looking hair.

Gwennie receded, wanting to escape and equally, wanting to safeguard her little brother. She looked at Linda for support. Linda did not react in negative.

But Tommy viewed Henry funnily. He advanced near him, trying to jump and catch his hair. Henry, kneeled down, as if to help little Tom to accomplish his wish.

‘Hey, boy, u like my hair, just have it.’ He removed the wig, exposing his bald head.

Tom was more than a happy boy now. He was happy to have that funny wig. And was happy to glance through the bald head. The first bald head he had ever seen in his two years of life.

Gwennie, though relaxed to see Henry that way, was still shivering.

‘Gwennie, he was just chasing his pet dog, as he grabbed his fresh bread pocket. And the knife had no blood, but only jam. It was ur imagination Gwennie’, it was Walter.

Now Gwennie had a mild smile on her face.

She went near Henry. Shook his hand and said, ‘U look wonderful this way.’

Henry thought, ‘My dear little girl, that wig was uglier way to hide my complex. Not meant to hurt u kids’. As a happy, man, Henry walked bald, leaving his wig as a present for little Tom to play.

Guarded pride

2005-08-15T22:30:00.001-10:00

Note: Did i say fiction is not my piece of cake? Forget it. Here comes new short and sweet(?!) effort of mine.

Where are my insurance papers? I remember keeping them on computer table. Now I find no trace of them. Kausalya is the only person rearranging things in the house in the pretext of keeping the house neat and tidy. “Kausi, did u see my insurance papers. I need them urgently.” I shouted.

It seemed that my wife was least interested to answer me. That aggravated my anger and as a hurt lion I roared this time. Though Kausi did not rush out of the kitchen like a meek deer, she did come out with inquisitive face.

“So u want ur insurance papers. I am no guard of papers u have thrown carelessly here and there. I did not touch ur papers. It will be there were u have kept. Let the hell break, I cannot help u atleast for 20 minutes. Chottu has to get ready for school”, saying this, my wife went to fetch little Chotu from the bathroom.

I was left with no choice. Had it been some other time, Kausi would have succumbed to my shouting. But not when Chottu needs her. I always get secondary treatment, a thing which I badly wanted to complain to my mother. Cursing my fate, I carefully analysed my office bag, checked for the papers in my shelf and also took the pain of scrutinizing my pant pockets. But no, nothing helped me.

It was well over 20 minutes and I did not succeed in my attempt of getting my wife’s help. But I could not give up. I need the papers badly. So, I went to my clothe shelf, pretended checking for those papers, and started throwing my shirts out of the shelf. I know Kausi could no longer bear this rogue way of finding the lost thing.

“U r such an impatient fellow. U want me to arrange ur shelf the whole day because u threw ur papers carelessly? Just get out of my sight. I will get u those papers.”

Having given the responsibility to a responsible person, I was damn sure that she will get them for me. I just went near her to see the progress in the work she had been doing. She was now out of that shelf and was researching the old cup board which serves as dumping ground for all unwanted stuffs. But I resisted. ‘Kausi, there is no use looking there.’ But she gave an I know look and ignored me.

As she was investigating, I found four of my books bundled together and kept safely in that cup board. Those were the books I was half way through and badly needed those two months back. I thoroughly scanned the house and concluded that they were lost. I was happy that atleast now I got them. Also became extremely angry unable to bear with Kausi’s habit of hiding things that were unused for sometime.

Opened one of those books and started reading from the bookmarked page. I was so lost that I forgot that I had to get ready for office. I almost completed 10 pages when I heard that thud.

Kausi was standing beside me. ‘I scanned the full house. No such papers are there. I think u have kept it in ur office itself. Why don’t u check them there?’

Now, I could not control my anger. ‘u call urself educated. But keep on rearranging things from one place to another. See these four books. Do u remember, I asked for them two months back and u swore that u knew nothing about them. I found them in that cup board. Who else could have kept them there apart from you? The same thing has happened to those papers also. U wanted to keep the whole house look good, that u shifted those papers probably to dustbin. I will check the dustbin before it is emptied’.

Having invoked a guilty feeling in her, I found her searching talents at their best, which covered every inch of the house. But I could not keep my mouth shut. ‘better I will keep all my belongings in office itself. Because, anything which comes inside the house apart from my own body is found missing. I cannot think that an educated wife can be so careless about important papers kept.’

Though she badly wanted to open her mouth and answer me back, she was unclear whether she had shifted those papers. That doubt in her mind made that moment a little peaceful and gave me courage to enrage her again. After all, there are hardly few moments when she does something wrong and I get a chance to shout at her. I did not want to loose that opportunity.

‘Let me leave now. Today is the last day for filing returns. What if have to pay few thousands extra to the government? That atleast relieves u of searching for those papers’, I said those words, wearing my shirts, though I did not even have the slight intention of leaving the house without getting those papers.

Tensed Kausi gave me a pacifying look and begged me to wait for few more minutes. I accepted showing my grimaced face to her.

When I turned my head something caught my attention. What was that paper laying in my office bag? I went near my bag, after checking for Kausi’s presence. Finding her busy in some other room, I analyzed my bag. Those insurance papers were in my bag, safely filed in the outer folder.

Thank God I got those papers. But what if she knows that it was my entire fault? Nothing of that sort would happen.

I made a brave face, arranging my bag and looked at Kausi. ‘Do not pain urself searching for those papers. I remember having kept a copy of them in office. I will check for them and will call u. if necessary, resume ur search then. It is already late. I will call u. Bye’. Without giving a pause, with great caution not to invoke her doubt, I was almost rushing to get out of house.

Kausi gave a suspicious look, thoroughly taken back by my magnanimity. She almost wanted to ask a dozen questions, but I would not be there to answer her. I nearly flied to reach my Maruti, leaving for office after waving at her affectionately. After all, we men know how to guard our pride, atleast in very few occasions like this.

My vague thoughts

2005-08-12T03:17:00.000-10:00

A human being has his religious duties too. But complications in an ordinary Hindu’s religious life are many. Firstly, we have plenty of religious books to choose. Secondly, they are in Sanskrit in which most of us are not conversant with. Thirdly, philosophical concepts are too complicated that one has to take special efforts to understand them.

Thus, I always had the guilt of an ignorant Hindu, knowing nothing more than a grandma version of Ramayana and Mahabharata. But when I started Ashok Banker’s version of Ramayana, I understood how greatly the epic can be narrated. When retelling can be so enchanting, which did not have the divinity and had more of commercial motive, surely, original version of Valmiki should be beguiling.

Thus, this Ashok Banker’s version of Ramayana could not help me in getting away from my guilt feeling. I have to learn more. With this thirst as I was seeing around, I came across few who knew more about our religion, who took some genuine efforts to learn what our holy books say.

Strangely, all those few were Vaishnavaites. Definitely, that is no coincidence.

Talking about iyers and iyengars, one can say that iyers are liberal or we can say iyers have liberalized their rules to a great extent so that they can co exist with iyengars. While u may find n number of Ramanathan and Narayanan in iyers, not even one Sivakumar or Ganesh will be there in Iyengar. There are staunch iyengars who choose to shut their ears, even when their hands are extremely busy feeding their own mouths or their grandson’s mouth, whenever they hear the word “Shiva”.

The motive of this post is not to blame any vaishnavaite. With this, please continue reading.

They believe in just one form that is Vishnu. Though I am not sure, I think they are not keen in worshipping navagraha also. I always curiously observe any iyengar classmate or colleague of mine to know how attached they are to Vishnu and Vaishnavism. Astonishingly, everyone I met was staunch believer and followed the religious routines vehemently.

As a routine they sing Thiuppavai and Thiruvamppavai. Thus, the religious thirst is inculcated in them when they are very young, and that makes them to know more about our religion. Their thirst grows beyond Vaishnavism, forces them to know about Hinduism.

Whereas, we iyers, who chose to be liberal, who chose to accept every form of God, (assuming someone is a pure saivaite and chooses to worship only Shiva family, then he has to worship a minimum of four gods), cannot boast of having many youngsters who still believe in chanting Thevaaram or performing Suryanamaskaram.

The values which we carried are slowly diminishing and I won’t wonder if they become extinct in near future. Because, we chose to be liberal with Gods initially, then we chose to be liberal with our religious duties, then we chose to be liberal with our religion itself. Now we iyers are completely modernized, that even an atheist is seen forgivingly by an elder.

They are so rationalized that they are fully into the practical world, forgetting completely about our religious world, formulating their own convenient ways of worshipping Almighty, that I fear our future generation would find it difficult to figure out whether Krishna comes in Ramayana or Mahabharata.

Our practical world has become so demanding that we really have to work hard to survive. But religious duties cannot be ignored for that reason. To refrain we humans from being slack on our religious duties, the rules should be made harsher.

I understand the ferociousness with which we should follow our customs. Blind faith will help us more. Atleast when it comes to religion. Our scattered belief in all hindu Gods made us to loose our custom and culture and now we find that we know very little about our religion. With mutual respect to each other, we should go back to our age old custom. This will be of some good to every Hindu. Instead of having a scattered faith, knowing in detail about nothing, it is always better to have concentrated faith, with indepth knowledge about something. Our initial confined faiths, will help us to set a solid foot in our religion, which will ultimately grow beyond the divides of Saivism or Vaishnavism and will embrace Hinduism.

Letter to God

2005-08-04T01:34:00.000-10:00

Note: I intented to continue with the story self made or ready made. But i thought that i am going so far away from what i intended to say and was concentrating more on characters. I thought of restraining myself from personal posts and generalizing my ideas. but that hardly suits my nature. Being straight and hitting the nail is the easiest thing one can do. (hey, see how well u can make up your weakness by telling it differently. to be frank, fiction is not my piece of cake i believe.)

Still i cannot leave a story half finished. When i was browsing a website,it spoke about a contest in which one had to write a letter to God. Ultimately, i was about to tell my own feelings about God through rohith in Selfmade or ready made. so i thought i should be direct. here is a letter which Rohith writes to God. In a confused state, whether to know that his life is like a ready made dress in which he could not do anything, or is like a dress material which he is free to stitch it to his wish, only his physique being the constraint, Rohith writes this letter to God.

Dear God,

Though I address U, hardly I believe in your existence. I was brought up as a pious boy, habited to say my daily prayers, with frequent visit to your temple. Till a few years back, if somebody was questioning Your existence, I mocked at them and ignored them. But now, I feel that they may be right.

When I was 20 years old, I read a book about a great sadhu, who personally believed that idol worship was not necessary. I have noticed every other sadhu, said that idol worship was primitive stage of bhakthi. Having read all those stuff, I started disbelieving in religious routines and concentrated my bhakthi on one single form. That was you, Lord Shiva. For a few years, I found that I was right in my form of bhakthi. Instead of giving offerings to You, I found it right to give up a bad habit of mine. Instead of showering You with milk and honey, I found it right to feed a hungry stomach.

I developed a sense of pride in my own form of Bhakthi, that I imagined you to be closer to me. So closer, that even the pettiest of my issues were consulted with You. Or probably I mistook my intuition as Your guidance. Whatever it may be, it worked well for few years. But now, I feel that the link is broken.

When I read books on mind power, I felt that there is no concept as God, as everything is so naturally explained and it is all the power of mind that drove me till then. Still, my orthodox brain did not want to accept all those stuff and continued to believe in You.

When the good old advice of our famous astrologers were thrust on me which meant a daily visit to God of my non interest or lighting akal vilakku in different swami sannidhis, I ignored them completely, thinking that only the form which I loved can help me. Till now, I do not feel the guilt.

But slowly, I found that the bond between You and me was loosening. My intuition failed many a times. I felt that I was guided wrongly. I blamed You. Then I found an equal chance to blame me. When I can blame me for a wrong decision, that means I have a greater control over my life. Instead of believing in You, instead of referring to You for all my problems, I found it right to consult myself and decide. And to a great extent, till now, it has been working well.

But still, this question haunts me. When others can find solace in going to temples and chanting the mantras, why I do not get peace?

To read all those philosophical books which are in a completely alien language and to get clarity is not a thing within my reach.

Is there not a simple answer for this question? Who are You? What do You do in my life? Can I ignore You? I tried to do that also. But as a weak human, when I found that things were out of my control, and badly needed someone’s help, I fell on Your feet. While falling so, I blamed myself for being selfish. I shied from opening my mouth to ask for favours. Rather, I had no faith that my prayers would be answered. Hence I feel no relief when I fall on Your feet.

Leave alone granting favours to me. I want to establish that old bondage which I had with You. I try my best to believe that You exist. But my Lord, something prevents me from that. Say a small disappointment which I face. The moment I feel that I should be a faithful devotee, I start expecting something from You. I try to blame You for all my miseries, though all happiness are accepted cheerfully with a small thanks giving prayer to You.

Now that I got a chance to visit your temple, I am dropping this letter in Your Hundi, hoping that these queries of mine will reach You. You may prefer to remain silent thinking that I am not a good devotee of Yours. But remember, I have always been a good citizen, a good employee, a good boss, a good son, a good husband and a good father. After all, that is what You expect from Your devotee. Hence I have every right to demand an answer. Before my heart shatters, my Lord, please answer me.

With Love,

Rohith.

Readymade or Selfmade? - II

2005-07-24T13:24:00.000-10:00

Thumping sound of bike was a welcome distraction to Radha. Having bookmarked the page, she carefully placed the book which was in her hand where it belonged, and waited in sofa for Rohith to come.

Dressed in blue t shirt and black jeans, a bad combination in general parlance, Rohith looked reasonably good, while Radha observed him having a pensive mood. He sat beside his mother, calmly drinking the cool lemonade. As though the lemonade had done a great magic of pacifying his inner fighting, he looked relaxed.

‘My visit to refugees’ camp was a real eye opener. I fuss a lot about many a things, say over a not so good plate of food. What this poor helpless refugee can do? In an alien environment, with hopeful eyes to go back to their country, fearing harsh treatment by their surrogate shelter, with every morsel of food they eat, they feel insecurity. Though I personally disagree with their permanent settlement in our country, I feel sad for their pathetic state. How lucky we are amma’.

‘Yes Rohith. It is by looking at those who are less fortunate than us, God makes us know how fortunate we are.’ Radha gave a long pause. ‘ now dear, put all ur thoughts in writings and let me know how your day was. I bet that your magazine is surely getting one of the best articles this week from you.’

He went inside his room, closing the door. That means a strong indication that he is not to be disturbed. Of course though there was no warning as “Do not disturb. Journalist at work”, it was all implied.

The output was wonderful. So nice, that a worse critic like Radha found nothing to point out. That is how a writer writes when he decants what he feels.

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‘Leela, check out whether moon shines outside’, commented Deepthi, in a remarkably sunny afternoon.

Leela was confused. ‘Mr. Moon is not going to honor us by his presence as he fears the company of Mr. Sun, dear’, she giggled, thinking as if she uttered something terribly jovial.

‘ That is very much possible today. I see rohith devoid of all his cheerfulness. He is so lost and agitated that he comes out from Editor room for the fourth time and every time he comes out, I see him aggressive. God knows what the problem is.’ said Deepthi.

As she was saying this, Deepthi noticed Rohith all ready to leave for the day, while it was hardly 12.00 P.M. ‘What happened yaar? I do not see the usual vibrant Rohith. What makes u so agitated?’

He tried to pose a happy look. ‘Nothing Deepthi. Nothing to worry. I think I need a break and I do not feel well. We will meet tomorrow.’ Giving a warm smile, he left.

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Radha had to pacify him. He poured out. ‘my whole day’s visit to refugee camp and a satisfying write up that followed is not slotted to be published this week. You know what that idiot is planning to publish in that space? A terrible junk. George managed to get an interview from that half nude actress, and this pleased my invertebrate editor so much, that he decided to give a first preference to that cheap writing. And he says that is what people want. Who the hell he is to decide what people want? For all the 6 months I have been here, I saw him and he is such a fool who knows nothing apart from spell checking the journalist’s write up. He is devoid of ideas and lives solely by selling his pride and self-respect to our boss. He is a yes man. He says that my article will be published a week after. ’

‘Why I am placed in an alien environment in which I cannot cope up? I see my colleagues who are adaptive. I see my friends placed in a more friendly and democratic magazines. Even ours is a revered magazine. But the bureaucracy is so irritating that only a Government office can beat it in its laziness. I cannot succumb, when I know that I am right. But u know, most of the times I am forced to. And the mental agony I undergo when I succumb is terrible.’

Radha watched him calmly. It was usual for her ever since he got the job. ‘My son, u have to learn a lot. All agonies u undergo is to make u mature. Observe my son. Do not react. U cannot change the world. Change yourself.’

Agitated Rohith locked himself in the room, questioning the happenings around him. He started questioning about everything, and atlast questioned the God and as usual got no answer. He fell flat on the bed, as if only sleep can give the peace he needed.

Readymade or Selfmade? - I

2005-07-15T02:47:00.000-10:00

Weird noise came from little Rohith’s room. Trepidation caught Arundhathi and she was ready to trouble herself to see what her little grandson was doing. As she was about to dislocate herself from the arm chair, Radha came near and pacified her mother in law.

“Amma, ur grandson is playing with his strange toys. Machine guns, toy robots and all nasty sound creating electronic stuffs are his favourite playmates and his father is not hearing a word of mine.”, complained Radha.

Rohith, just five years old, was now out of his room, dragging the toy robot by its hand and placed it before his grandmother. She embraced him tightly, showing all her affection. Though he badly wanted to free himself, he would not. All he wanted was a new toy machine gun which was a far superior model than what he currently owns. Knowing that his pranks would yield no result with Radha, he expected Arundhadhi’s support.

But Radha was stubborn. She could not see her child loving those odd objects for she feared those would distract her child and make him ruthless. Had it been someother time, Rohith would have get things done through his father. But now that his dad was out of station and was expected only a week after, he was left with no other go.

Radha always proved to be a challenge for Rohith, as unlike other moms, she would not melt soon and stick to her principles, which were forcibly thrust on him too.

Rohith almost gave up and was looking for some interesting distraction. Just then, Arundhathi went to pooja room and was busy praying before the Almighty. “Why do u pray patti?” asked Rohith.

“To please the Lord my dear”, said patti, as she could not find any other simple explanation. “What will He do if we please Him?” asked Rohith. Thinking it a good chance to instill some noble thoughts into that young brain, Arundhadhi told that God would grant whatever we wish for, if we prayed to Him.

“I see”, said Rohith. Saying this, he went and kneeled down before Lord Shiva’s portrait. “Oh God, make my mom to say yes when I ask for that Bingo Bingo gun. We plan to shop today and I need to show that gun to Munna today evening. Grant this for me please and I promise to share the sweets I get today”. He stressed “today” too much so that Shiva could hear it properly and do the needful. He was now satisfied. Having made whatever he could to get the toy that day itself, he comforted himself in sofa.

But the after hours of shopping did not leave Rohith a happy kid. Stubborn Radha did not budge as expected and was trying to console him.

He was lying on his bed, hugging his grandma. “Patti, why God did not grant my wish? Did not I please Him sufficiently? Was He not ok with my deal of sharing sweets? Were u not correct in telling me that I would be granted whatever I like? Or was it wrong to ask for the toy?”

Arundhathi tried consoling him, giving some hazy explanation which hardly impressed Rohith. He slept thinking about his unaccepted prayers, hardly realizing that this question will haunt him for his life.

Hell found me

2005-07-05T10:30:00.000-10:00

Note: The challenge was, writing a story starting with hell found me. I tried my best.

Hell found me when I thrust that 10 rupees note in to that old beggar’s feeble hands. Thoroughly astonished, he viewed me with suspicion, checking the note. When he really gained confidence and thought of giving that thankful look, I was already away from him by few feet, in a hurry to catch the bus to Kottaiputtur.

Yearning for shade, I settled down at the bus stand, checking my belongings. Though the day was not too sunny, the long walk made me tired. Unaware of the remorseful moments I am going to undergo, I thanked the Almighty, when the bus came unexpectedly earlier and halted with a jerk usual to any state transport vehicle.

Like any other individual, immediately after entering the bus, my eyes searched for a comfortable place to seat myself. Alas, I had no choice. Except for a two seater in which a fat lady was sitting, the rest of the bus was already occupied. I got perplexed. Will that lady mind me sharing that two seater? I just cursed myself for being a man now. But I was in no state to think of all that stuff and continue standing carrying my heavy luggage. Also the lady looked older than me and won’t mind if I sit, I thought.

I went near her and parked my luggage and sat on the seat. The lady did not like my presence. Her gesture showed it clearly. But I pretended as if I noticed nothing. Only after sitting did I realize that I did not fit properly in the seat, as most of it was occupied by the lady herself. But this position was comfortable than standing. So I adamantly stuck to my decision.

My grandma always tells me not to sleep while traveling. But u see, it is really difficult to control your eyes, especially after a heavy breakfast of a typical Tamilian. I succumbed and never knew how long I slept.

I was romancing with Aishwarya Rai, when I heard a wild scream. Shaken, I woke up and witnessed the lady screaming frantically and to my misfortune, she was pointing at me and grumping to the conductor. Just then I noticed that, I was leaning on that lady’s shoulders. Struck by natural embarrassment, I distanced myself and made a pathetic face and looked at the conductor, solely craving for his support.

But my trouble chases me all along and the conductor was terribly irritated. He saw me as though seeing a womanizer, and yelled at me to vacate the seat. As a meek creature, I collected my baggage, and went to other side of the bus.

Still, the lady did not seem to shut her mouth. She shouted to stop the bus and hand me over in the nearest police station as she wanted to complain against me for eve teasing. Even in that dismal condition, I thought of laughing. She imagined herself too young to be eve teased, while I knew that even if her daughter were in her place, I would not have done that, for she would not be worth of that much energy, assuming she resembles her mother.

But gender gives all advantage. The grudging conductor came near me, demanding for the ticket. To add fuel to the fire, I realized that I did not bother to take the ticket till then. I told that, making all possible attempts to win his confidence. The conductor grew too suspicious, adding to my agony. Now he asked for my destination and gave me the ticket. I searched my pockets and was greatly relieved to find that 50 rupees note. As everything went against me, I doubted that it would be difficult to find that only currency note placed in my pocket. But I was fortunate enough to get it soon.

The sight of 50 rupee note enraged him once again and he demanded a 10 rupee note which was all the ticket was worth. Once again, I cried that I had no other money but for this silly currency. Grudgingly he took that note and the greatest disaster happened then. He noticed a hole, large enough for my little finger to sneak in and I immediately found that note thrashed on my face.

Now the conductor was all convinced that he should go by the fat lady’s words. He stopped the bus, and I found myself in police custody. The bus took off leaving me to my fate.

Tremblingly, I stood in a corner, thinking of spending next few months (or years?) here. A seemingly kind hearted policeman came near me and said, "Young man, u seem to be a decent guy. How can u resort to this sort of issues? And that too misbehaving with a lady of ur mother’s age? Too bad.". After a long time, I found someone talking to me giving me atleast the least respect a human being deserves.

I never knew that I could cry. I broke down, telling how fair and innocent I was, and begged him to release me.
Atlast my efforts bore fruit and he allowed me to make a call. Now I remembered my friend Anand who works as SI in a nearby station and rang up.

True to the proverb, a friend in need is a friend in deed, he made the best efforts for my release and finally we came out of the station.

I cancelled my trip, and just wanted to go home. He dropped me in the bus stand where I started my journey and bid farewell.

As I walked home thinking about the dreadful experience, I thought of that beggar. He was the scoundrel. If only I had that ten rupees note, I would not have lost my dignity.

As I went past, I saw him sitting in the same old place, eagerly opening the briyani parcel, and gulping it so greedily, that I immediately repented for what I thought. My heart filled with satisfaction, and now as usual with full energy, I went towards my place, to tell a twisted version of this story to my wife.

I am not to be blamed

2005-07-02T04:52:00.000-10:00

Ramya is to be blamed. The devilish idea of writing a story came to me after reading her blogs. Bharath added fuel to that, and he is planning to write a sequel. The long planned unimplemented wish is now fulfilled. This is just a caution and the risk averse can safely go to other pages.

Am I free?

Morning dews were still on the flowers. At the stroke of 6, Anupama got up. Let me make the day special, she decided. After all, today is the day to celebrate. Her birthday.

Sekar was still lying in bed, expecting his morning coffee. He did not greet Anupama. Because, he was absorbed totally in daily chorus, that he forgot his better half’s birthday.

Anu was used to it. Her five years of association with him had taught her well not to expect. But friends are the real relievers. Her mobile was almost crying for rest that very morning, making her feel special.

"Oh, so today is your birthday? I totally forgot. Anyways, many more happy returns of the day." , uttering these words, Sekar returned back to newspaper. She endured.

She should focus. That alone could bring her out from this vacuum. Vacuum due to lack of love and care.

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That was a long wait. Almost for an hour. While her boss was deeply discussing Anu’s promotion prospects with another superior. She skipped the morning coffee, aimlessly gazing at the computer, having no idea to work.

She never thought half a decade of association with a dry person could change her personality so much. She was never a person expecting results. Vibrant Anu demanded results for she always performed. When the results were otherwise sometimes, least she bothered, for she knew how to isolate herself. But now, she begs for success. To forget the vacuum in love life, she needs success. She feared she will break if she does not get it.
Fate is not always harsh with humans and sometime or other one has to feel happy for existing on earth. Also, Anu deserved and returned home with good news.

Excited Anu, came home to announce her career advancement.

"Well, I hope they will provide u with a car. And remember we have bought only one parking space in which my Santro is parked already. And those extra few thousands with ur promotion will fetch us nothing big though. My congrads" said Sekar. She endured.

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"Marriages are made in heaven", she laughed heartily on hearing this proverb. "I think God missed my marriage. "

Her marriage has taught her to be patient. But she wondered why she should be. "What I gain in this association? I kept on enduring for past 5 years, to see no change in Sekar. My life had been routine all these years, and my matrimony did not even give me a good friend, leave alone a good husband. I care about the society, which least bother about me. I care about the neighbours with whom I hardly interact. Earlier, I was bold enough to speak my mind caring very little about the world. I was accountable only to my conscience and to no one else for my actions. I was proud of being myself and felt that I have a liberated and free soul. I felt pity for those who feared their parents, colleagues, superiors, friends, neighbours, or what ever little creature on earth. Never had I thought, I will be one among them."

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Having an American boss gives a unique experience. That too when she happens to be a female, curious to know about Indian customs, nothing more can delightful than to spend a few hours with her. Anu was accompanying her boss and after all those official talk was over, Susane was in a mood to switch the topic to something unofficial.

She spoke about her husband. Present and former ones. She said how considerate and supportive he had been. Contrasted him from her earlier husbands who were selfish and narrow. She spoke about her first husband who forced her to learn everything in which he had interest caring least about her literary talents. And about the second one who was inconsiderate to all her feelings. She was positive about Joshua, and was willing to settle down for her life with him.

For the first time, Anu thought about the righteousness of a westerner in changing partners frequently. It is a search. A wrong decision do not make them handicapped for their life. Marriages are made in heaven, only if we humans liberate our self from rectifying our old mistakes. We have an incorrect interpretation in India, she thought.

"But do I have the courage to get rid of Sekar? Can I manage my little kid Asha without him? Or can I seek a new partner? No, No and No. The answer seems obvious. Realty is always different from my dreams. After all I am not the only one with unfulfilled dreams. I am surrounded by thousands of others who sacrificed their dreams and still smiling at the world. After all, an indifferent husband does not make world that much a worst place. I have endured for him for these many years and continue to do so for the rest of my life. Yes, I lack courage. I am not free. Neither I wish to. For the sake of my daughter, for the sake of the society and for the sake of my parents."

The Devil and Miss Prym - Review(?)

2005-06-22T05:31:00.000-10:00

Someone is too good, because he is deprived of the opportunity to become bad. This is the single thread driving the whole story and Paulo Coelho has dealt with convoluted human feeling in a commendable way.

Viscos, is a small remote village, filled with innocent and hardworking people, secluded from modernity of the rest of the world. A stranger arrives, with the sole motive of persuading the villagers to commit a murder. The motive may sound peculiar and complex, but Paulo Coelho’s novels deals with human aberrations and do not care much to mingle with real world.

The stranger selects Prym Chantal, to spread the news among the villagers. Chantal, a smart young girl, who knows that she deserves more than working in bar cum lodge as clerk and attendant, is dispossessed of the greeneries of life. The deal looks lucrative. 11 bars of gold for the one who commits a murder within a week. Chantal has two options, either she can commit the murder herself or, she can convey it to the villagers.

The confusions of Chantal, and her inability to steal the gold and runaway, which she brands as her cowardice, are depicted excellently.

Another interesting character is Betra, the oldest of Viscos citizens. Had it been someother novel, her habit of getting clues from nature and talking telepathically with her husband who expired 15 years back may sound strange and would make us wonder whether it is some novel dealing with ghosts and supernatural powers. But not when the author is Paulo Coelho. He stresses on colossal power of mind and almost makes us believe what he says. In fact, Betra becomes the first to know that devil (the stranger) has come to village.

In straight contrast to Alchemist, where much was left to the reader to decide and understand, here the author comes out with his own views and arguments, which makes things interesting somewhere and arguable at some points.

The whole novel stresses on one point. Be it be the stranger who wants to turn the village into a murderous gang, or the Head Priest who convinces himself in persuading the villagers to commit the murder only because, he believes that the guilt feeling would make them turn towards God, or Miss Chantal herself, who chooses to steal the gold and run away when the whole village blames her for spreading the word of stranger among them, one thing is made clear. Man passes on his failures and wants to turn the world devilish just as revenge towards the cruelty of fate towards him.

May be that is true. Failures and misfortunes turn us against God. When things do not happen the way it ought to, that too worsening the situations, men do rethink about his faith in Almighty. Why the hell should someone dare to shun God when all on earth goes well with him? Rather, one would not take the risk of shunning Him for he has the genuine fear of losing something if he earns the wrath of Him. But for someone who is in deep loss (the stranger), who has never tasted success (like Chantal for example), God means nothing at all.

The small short stories, which were inserted professionally, without making us feel odd, does the intended work correctly. I was browsing thorough The Monk who sold his Ferrari earlier, and found that Robin Sharma was bold enough to lift and use some of these in his book.

When we choose to do what the crowd does, least we bother about ethics and genuineness. Head Priest and few others convince easily the whole village to kill Betra and to earn the reward.

How the brave Chantal sets to stop this forms the rest of the story. Chantal gets assurance from the stranger that she would be rewarded even if the murder does not happen. The lecture she gives to the villagers when they are all ready to shoot at the unconscious Betra could have been a bit more convincing. Had it been a movie or drama, a spectator would have come out with a contemptuous comment at this place. But this being a novel, that lacuna does not seem obvious.

As far as I could infer, author tries to prove that by preventing Betra’s murder, devil is outsmarted. Chantal, who does this job of saving the human values, was assured already of the reward. Thus, some selfish motives can be assumed to have driven Chantal, though ultimately good prevails. This defeats the whole motive of novel and lands us back to square one. We can conclude it this way. Human values can be saved from devils of frustration and vengeance, if a sum of huge money is given to someone to safeguard the community from losing its purity. That sounds funny.

Yet, novel throws up a different form of thought, and Paulo, for most of the times, comes out with convincing answers. For sure a thought provoking number from the author of Alchemist.

Book Tagging

2005-06-12T22:00:00.000-10:00

Happened to read an article in Sunday magazine of The Hindu. It was about blog world and famous bloggers. Not sure whether the author herself( Ramya Kannan) is a blogger or a regular columnist in Hindu. Anyways, was happy that blogging activity is getting the necessary underscore.

As I was thinking about it and was browsing Bharat’s blog, came to know abt this book tagging game. The game goes like this. U have to tag 5 books u read and 5 bloggers u admire. (atleast I construed it that way). Actually, I admire Bharat’s immense writing skills, and he was my inspiration to enter into the blog world. But again, the rule is that, u r not supposed to tag the one who tagged u.

I am convinced that I should become a part of this game and be an honest player too. The easier part first ie about the books.

I don’t want to classify myself as a voracious reader, though I want to be one. I am a late starter as far as reading habit is concerned and my bookshelf houses just more than a dozen numbers. Still, let me quote the books I liked.

Alchemist:

This was the book, which terribly inspired me. Having ventured Higginbothoms n number of times, not even once I bothered to investigate into its novel section, for I was under thorough misconception that thrillers and fictions couldn’t feed one’s mind. But this time I forced myself, since we thought of presenting a book for our friend. I did not hear anything about Paulo Ceolho when I was browsing this book; just by flipping few pages I was convinced that it is something worth presenting.

So, having taken the great responsibility of selecting a good book, I ought to check whether my choice was right. Thus I became the first user of that intended gift. Was moved so much that I started collecting books and more books and have some dozen books in a span of 9 months. Read it to experience it.

Jonathan Livingston Seagull:

This is in line with alchemist. Well-written short story(?) by Richard Bach. Just runs to 15 pages and really worth reading. It is available online for free.

Full Moon:

Fiction by PGW. Also my first book by PGW. Realized the magic words can create. Knew how differently common things can be put forth before us. Real good one.

Not a Penny More Not a Penny Less:

Again my first one by Jeffrey Archer. I cannot rate this as very interesting. Definitely worth reading.

Ponniyin Selvan:

In the list of good books, one cannot afford to ignore great Kalki’s Ponniyin Selvan. I never thought a historical novel could be made so interesting. I almost became mad about this book and read it in just 5 days. If u know tamil well and love reading, this book will be irresistible.

Vandaargal Vendraargal:

I am averse to tamil magazines like kumudam and ananda vigadan, for I believe that they make a living feeding cheap taste of public. But fortunately, I got this Vandaargal Vendraargal by Vikatan Publications, since I had the patience to peep into its contents. Madhan has done an excellent job of innovative narration of historical events in an interesting fashion, that u cannot not keep this book away till u get to complete it. I went through it twice and still feel like reading it again.

Now ended up quoting more than my quota of 5 books. But I don’t think I will be able to do the same thing for blogs.

Here my choice goes:

Pavithra:

Blogger with a difference. She maintains more than 3 blog sites, though I won’t say she equally contributes to all the three as each one serves a different purpose. Her excellent command over English and Tamil makes the visit to her site a memorable experience.

Ramya:

I was introduced to English short stories in her site. The grip over the language and the real emotional stories demands a revisit.

Desikann:

This blogger needs no introduction. He blogs in Tamil and a real good writer.

Ashok Gurumurthy:

A young fierce blogger who always wants to fight with the readers of his blog. More than his blogs, the comments section makes an interesting reading. An honest and fierce blogger.

Some of these bloggers r so popular that already someone would have book tagged. But my choice remains the same irrespective of that fact.

This leaves me one short of blogger I admire. Shows that I have to spend more time on blogspot. Know well that the blog world accommodates n number of great writers. But I follow only very few links.

With the satisfaction that I have made a genuine effort, I now wind up.

Daily Ordeal

2005-06-01T02:20:00.000-10:00

Started towards office. There were 4 options before me. Going in my neighbor’s car, seeking my father’s help, to curse the public transport and use it too or to use a private auto.

The first option got exhausted when my ego did not allow me to cling to my neighbor’s car, despite the fact that he volunteered dropping me. My father was already shouting that he was behind schedule, and I was pretty sure that any request from my side would be rejected out rightly. The last option was almost closed since I have taken a resolution not to go by auto. I made it a practice to go by autorickshaw daily, that my conscience started questioning me about my laziness and the price I pay for it. That was a bit heavy. Rs. 60 per day. Amounts to Rs1500 per month. Already a good part of my wealth was shared with autowalas last month and I did not want to become cleaned out by doing the same mistake.

That gave me no option, but to go by the same old state transport. When I went to bus stand, there again I had three options. There were 3 buses going to my destination, and I stood confused, which one to choose. After carefully analyzing all the three, I went inside the one, which was populous, hoping that some preliminary investigation about the departure time would have already done by the people inside.

I made myself comfortable, managing to find a place to sit. Soon the passengers became restless and I found some leaving the bus to catch another. The other bus, which was less crowded, took off now. I chose to remain loyal to my first selection and did not make a slightest effort to shunt. Had I chosen to go by that other bus and took my toes, the success rate would have been 50%, and that another 50% possibility of failure forced me to remain loyal. A fierceful run from our current state to catch a moving bus definitely demands 100% success, as I did not want to cut a sorry face and enter to my same old position.

Soon after, conductor entered the bus and I was happy that my loyalty was rewarded. But I was wrong again. As conductor entered our bus, the third bus, which was even less crowded, took off now, leaving this bus to be a late starter. I cursed myself for not making use of enquiry counter to know in advance the departure timings.

Thus, in the very morning, our state transport buses threw a great challenge before me, in which I miserably failed. That did not put my mood off although.

The challenges in evening hours are bit different. You could label yourself, son of lady luck, if u happen to locate a vacant seat. At times if one is lucky enough to catch a less crowded bus, we always find that sex ratio is highly imbalanced, with higher male population. That gives them a liberty to occupy ladies seat. A courteous female passenger would find it difficult to be harsh with her co traveler. If the other party smells that the female passenger is courteous, he would utilize that fully, least bothering about his unauthorized occupancy.

One could not offer to miss a bus just because it is crowded unless he or she has the patience to wait endlessly. Chosen to travel in a bus, which is populous, one is supposed to help the conductor in his duty of distributing tickets. Having shared their work, I am just planning to sue these guys for depriving me of my commission.

Imagine a badly smelling lady, with least courtesy and decency, shares the space with you in a crowded bus. That could be your most ill fated day. A slight murmur would be taken too offensive and would end up in a fierce fight in which we are sure to lose. The very moment one chooses to travel in a crowded bus, would make him, long for the moment at which he could set his foot on the land, liberating himself from the stingy atmosphere, unique to the bus.

Having tolerated this ordeal for more than one and half years by now, I am now planning for a great project to untie myself from this. And the name of the project is, Project Honda Activa. This is so unique and liberating that one could transport him so easily, without bothering to locate the bus which would start early, without the need to rush so as to sit comfortably and without sharing the work of someone. I know u could not stop wondering about this great project and could hardly resist from donating liberally towards it. Any such intention of yours is highly appreciated, and would be rewarded with a Thank You note, upon realization of the cheque given. I am afraid that none of your donations are eligible for deduction u/s 80G, though I am confident of convincing our finance minister about this, in my scheduled meeting tomorrow.

Fire Fire Run Away!

2005-05-25T21:15:00.000-10:00

Our team settled down to work after the award ceremony was over. The Project Team of the month award reacted as a tonic and we passionately started working to meet the tight deadline.

Hardly few minutes passed peacefully, that we heard a fire alarm. I was extremely lethargic and did not want to budge from my place since I sensed nothing serious. Evacuation drills are common and happens frequently, and my previous experiences had taught me well how to react.

But no, I cannot have the luxury of sitting and working when the whole floor is making an effort to abide by the our Admin Officer’s words, who was making a conscious effort to make us believe whatever he said. Our emergency exit door was opened, solving the mystery where it leads.

The drill was for the entire office lobby, and we were happy to find that the employees of another organization were already on their way down, walking nonchalantly, and some were very keen to peep into the interiors of our office as this is the only chance they would get to see it. Seeing new crowd made us happy and I was searching for some known faces in the new crowd, only in vain.

Someone was taking photographs and I just wanted to know about the roots of that person, for which I hardly had time. When we came to Parking lot, we saw few firemen vigorously using the huge water pipes to pacify the invisible fire. One employee was too curious to find the fire, that he could not control himself and ran behind the firemen who were trying their best to make the water reach a window, which was just a jump ahead for a tall man.

We enjoyed the scene thoroughly and even thought of mocking the whole process and to resume work. But to our misfortune, my Asst. Manager was closely following us and would not leave us to revert.

By this time, it was pretty clear to the office mates that it was nothing more than a mock drill. For the first time we used the stairs for getting down and came to know how pathetically it was maintained. I could hardly control myself from comparing Raheja and Spencers. Rahaja is the good old place where we used to have our office. It is the best place for office use with least diversions, surrounded only by the official crowd. I hate spencers for more than one reason. One for its non formal looks, and other, for tempting me so often, that I end up paying half of my salary to Food court shops and Landmark and Music world owners.

Talking all these we finally reached the ground floor and witnessed a huge crane moving unwearyingly. Again we saw few firemen running too seriously, shouting at the crowd to give way, carrying the huge water tubes. I could not stop wondering their immense acting skills and admired their confidence, which made them to underestimate the commonsense of the crowd gathered.

We were standing at a safer distance from the crane and were eagerly watching the happenings. I noticed few young girls with scribbling pads, carrying just out of college looks, seriously taking note of the happenings. They introduced themselves as Hindu reporters and started asking us questions and our Asst Manager was dutiful enough to entertain them. Everything went on fine till that uncouth looking lean girl, thought of opening her mouth. Imagining herself covering a hottest incident, and assuming herself to be a prudent journalist, she asked “You work for a Call Center Right?”. That interruption was unpleasant, as she plunged in the middle of the conversation with an unrelated question.

We found it least important to correct her and to boast about the superiority of the analysis we perform and tones of data we use to arrive at a conclusion. It is an irritating fact that any person working for a BPO is seen as someone working as a voice transcriptor or as a data entry operator. There is an immediate need to educate public about it.

Turning my attention towards the crane, I watched it moving slowly, so slowly, that I wondered what would happen in case of a real calamity. The time it took to reach the top floor was sufficiently more than 5minutes, by which time; the survivors would have already become extinct.

Someone was already waiting in the top floor, and bravely dislodged himself from the building to the crane, and landed on the earth after a good 3 minutes. That was an enjoyable different scenario and we all remained as eagerly watching bystanders.

The rest of the happenings were usual. Someone came to give us a big lecture, which hardly reached our ears. We just spent a few minutes there, and were waiting for the crowd to disperse. The fire extinguisher wasted well over few gallons of water, making a vain attempt to drench most of the crowd, making a ceremonial end to the whole occasion.

Having shared a wonderful experience, we refreshingly climbed the stairs, to attend to our work.

Terrible Night

2005-05-15T18:50:00.000-10:00

After a tiresome day, I wanted to relax and was flipping the pages of PGW. Already it was 12.45 A.M, and thought it would be appropriate to honor night. As an authentic way for good night sleep, I wanted to pay final visit to lavatory.

I took the great pain of lifting myself from the bed and successfully switched on the lavatory light. Feeling half sleepy, I tried opening the door. But then, it did not open. I double-checked whether it was locked outside. No it was not. I doubted my father would be inside, but he was already sleeping.

Checked once again whether the door was closed from outside. After confirming that I was not wrong, found it right to inform my mother. Already in deep sleep, she was annoyed by my interruption and gave the good advice to check whether it was locked from outside. I patiently explained her and she got up to confirm.

“Yes, it is locked. But how come? Just an hour back I closed the door and slept. Who can be inside?”, asked my mother frantically. The lavatory had a godrej handle and a manual lock. The godrej handle was perfectly all right as we checked from outside and felt the movement to be flawless. But who could have used the manual lock when every inmate is outside? There is very less chance that the manual lock would have gone wrong. Even if it had, it cannot be blamed for the current state of the door, for at the maximum loose screws would make it to fall down and it did not have the capacity to curtail the movement of the door.

I firmly concluded someone’s presence inside and opened the main door of the house. Brought these things to my father’s notice and bravely ventured to terrace to check whether the bathroom window could give us some clue. But it was locked. My father, after trying his hand on the door, came out to call the security for help. I too joined him.

My mother alone was inside now, and to add to our apprehension, our whole apartment plunged to darkness all of a sudden. I shouted, asking her to come out and with equal force, she quickly rushed out. I was content that all of us were safely placed, and concluded that whoever was hiding himself lacked confidence and courage for, he would not have chosen to remain in that place even after knowing that we became cautious. Some blurred thought told me that this power cut might be the act of that nasty gangster’s group, and even thought of alarming the police. But what if it was a simple lock problem? I never thought a Policeman could be as efficient as a carpenter in mending the door.

After a wait of ten more minutes, the old security managed to climb the whole three stairs and came to our place. Good, that he got a torch with him. I went inside, cautiously picking the chord less phone and cell phone, directed my mother to search for the lock. After firmly locking the main door, all of us went once again to check the terrace. It gave no new clue.

To our relief, we noticed that the power was restored. With regained confidence, we four set to detect more about the lock mystery. The security too tried his hand and gave an astounding look. “It seems it is locked form inside.” That was his great finding after 10 minutes check. “I don’t think something grave would have happened. Do not worry. We will ask the carpenter to do the needful tomorrow. Just a mild voice, I will be there at your service.” he said. Poor man, a climb to our place took him more than 10 minutes. It was our fault to expect something solid from his part.

Again left alone, we were confused. My mother safely parked the valuables in the bureau, and was wondering what to do. I could not help thinking about our Tamil heroes, whose ferocious single kick would make even the greatest of great doors to succumb.

After few minutes of complete silence, we concluded that it was nothing more than a lock disorder, settled to sleep.

Next morning we could not bring the carpenter and thankfully, the other restroom was in perfect condition, allowing everyone to empty his or her respective bowels.

My friend, who came to meet me, noticed the door and I pathetically narrated the whole happenings. She burst out into laughter and demanded a screwdriver. I faithfully gave it, and eagerly watched her at work. Just a few minutes, godrej handle was dismantled completely and the door was opened. The handle which was unsusceptible few hours back, turned out to be the real culprit.

“You do not need a Tamil hero. Just some common sense and a screwdriver to open the adamant door.”, she told sarcastically. I gave a hangdog look and my mother was in all praise for her. Long live my friend, for you have taught me the use of a screwdriver.

New Search - III (concluded)

2005-05-01T11:13:00.000-10:00

I was done with my meal and was going through the pages of one the books my friend presented. The contents discussed about the thing, which was of little interest to me. It was about mind power. Not that I do not believe in mind power. I am averse to someone lecturing and directing me to do this and that to improve myself. For I never thought that someone’s lecture will make me realize myself.

But this book made me to think. Instead of knowing it from someone, won’t I be getting first hand information, if I consult with my own conscience? Looked at Anamica interestingly now. She was ready with high spirits to discuss the topic with me. “So, want to discuss about this topic now?”. I was surprised that she read my mind, but she is my mind. I should not have been surprised.

“Yes. Anamica. Life has thaught me that a little change in my attitude can make me feel better. But never understood my control over my own self. That always remained a difficult task. “

“Let me continue, from where I left earlier, because, I want you to listen what I thought will help you” said Anamica. She was going to start from “What you sow, so you reap”. “I found yourself so happy, in the morning, ready to go around the city with your friend. My intrusion irritated you. When u lost all your glee after a call from your friend, you wanted someone by your side to amuse you. And when the topic turned against you, you found it easier to slip and relax. Don’t you think you are self-centric? I don’t say that it is a peculiar character to you alone. “

She had a point. I take people who are close to me for granted. Once decided, I find it difficult to reconsider. My stubbornness irritates my friends and parents. Invariably, I am dependent on them psychologically. I cannot detach myself since I derive my happiness also from them. Even if something is of no interest to me, I can force myself to make them happy.

Now that the point reached me correctly, she decided to move on to next one. “When you extensively use your logic, it will drive you to a single solution. You explore your mind power, when you know how to use your logical skills.”

I said, “So you say logic is the base for my internal quest. But I encounter a problem here. When I rely too much on logic, I become overconfident. Like a matured adult, I take full control of my life, disbelieving in divine interruptions. Am I right in relying fully on my mind power, ignoring the God power?”

“Do not always seek an answer”, she replied. “God and mind power are two pillars which support you. When you are over confident, mind power will do. But remember, not always you had high spirits. There were days, when you felt extremely down and expected someone to soothe you. I know you believed in God power on those days. Belief is the basic thing, which keeps our life running. When it comes to belief, logic has no role to play. God and mind power are two mutually exclusive concepts, and it is up to us, to choose the one which suits our purpose, according to the need of the hour.”

I felt relieved. Not that I understood her completely. But thought that discussion would be an eye opener. With this, she said good-bye to me. I interrupted and said, “You told me that you would make me mature. Do you think this would suffice?”

She turned back and said, "As I said, spoon-feeding will be of no use. You hate a book because someone instructs you. In the same way, you will hate me if I instruct and direct you constantly. I have kindled something in you. It is upto you to develop it. Do call me when you need my help. For I am there to guide you.”

She left where she had been, bidding me farewell. But now I am left confused with what had happened to me. Please help if someone could.

New Search - II

2005-04-29T21:20:00.000-10:00

Unusually, I woke up early that morning, just to create a feel good atmosphere. Greeted Anamica and went to collect the newspaper. My mother gave an astounding look, trying to pinch herself. My good morning starts at 11.AM on Sundays. Anamica was not less aware of that fact. Thought of settling down with newspaper, sipping the hot coffee. I was courteous enough to offer a cup to Anamica, which she politely refused. Think Conscience do not have the habit of eating and drinking. I was in no mood to offer for the second time and just continued my work.

I spent almost an hour with paper and felt guilty for leaving her alone. But she did not seem to mind it and made it clear to me that I was under no obligation to entertain her and she just wanted to accompany me the whole day and intrude only when she felt as necessary. That made me feel lighter. I was expecting a call from my friend. We waste no Sundays and have taken an oath to share our wealth with fellow citizens, who happen to be shop owners. Ours is a great combination, and hunting book, music and cloth shops is our favorite pastime.

I was feeling great that time. I need no reason to feel happy. If I am happy, I am uncontrollable. (Not that otherwise I am controllable!). Was singing a song closer to me as loudly as possible. Anamica was not happy to watch me like that. Came closer and hissed. “Why cannot you control your emotions? To my knowledge, nothing great happened here for you to be happy.” She did not even shut her mouth and I was ready to open mine. “See my dear. I am no saint. Neither I want u to make me one. I warn you, never ever interrupt me when I sing. For that is the worst thing I hate.” I knew I was curt. But that undue interruption did affect my privacy.

My friend rang up and told that she could not accompany me, as she was preoccupied with too many things. I was disappointed greatly and started wondering what I would do for the rest of the day. I was lying on bed idly, gazing the fan. Anamica came near me, and sat beside. I got up and smiled at her. “What happened to your exuberance? Why r u silent now?” . I looked at her vaguely, and said, “This happens with me many a times. My emotions keep on changing, and the persons moving with me find it diffcult to adjust their wavelength according to my mood. Not that now I am sad because my friend did not turn up. But some ambiguity catches me, making me dull and meek.”

Now Anamica sat comfortably, as if ready to give me a lecture. But lectures always irritated me. I find myself too wise to listen someone advising me! But again I was wrong. She just wanted me to speak and asked what makes me sad or let down, most of the times. I now came out with my list. “When I find that my friends no longer need me the way they needed earlier. When I find I am not up to the mark. When I find I am idle. When I find someone is not straight enough to quarrel with me and not good enough to befriend me. When I find that people around me are mean. When I find that I cannot reciprocate to their meanness. When I realize that it is me alone who can solve the problem and no soul on earth can help me. When I find…”.

It is all enough, said Anamica. “Now tell me what makes you happy?”. And again the list went on. “I am happy when I am appreciated. I am happy when I see my gang. I am happy when my mother pats me. I am happy when I read a good book. I am happy when I write. I am happy when I hear songs. I am happy when I spend. I am happy when I have company of good friend, I am happy when something makes me feel great. And I know u surely won’t be happy, if I keep on lengthening this list.”

She just smiled and this time she was really coming out with a lecture. Though I was in a mood to lend my ears now. “So, to a great extent, people around you influence your mood. Right?” I nodded humbly. “That shows you are dependent on others for being happy. Right?” This irritated me slightly. “You mean to say, an ordinary person like me can achieve that sort of independence so as to isolate her from the rest of the universe and feel blissful all the time? That is closer to impossible. Tell me something which is achievable.”

She patiently continued. “No. Again you got me wrong. I never said that you should isolate yourself from these things. Neither you are that much mature to do that, nor that it is expected from you. What I say is, give others what you want to get. That is simple logic. No great maturity is needed to appreciate this. What you sow, so you reap.”

“Oh, what a great lesson for the day. I learnt it when I was in class first.” I started laughing for my own joke. She was in no mood to enjoy. “That is what I say. You did not grasp what you teacher told that day. I am just trying to remind u that again. Not that the thing, which you read earlier, holds good only in book.”

That was too boring for me. I came close to yawning and was worrying that could hurt her. Thankfully, my mother came to my rescue, offering me some food to eat. I just escaped in that small gap, and sat before TV, enjoying the food.

New Search - I

2005-04-28T04:30:00.000-10:00

That was a usual night stroll in my terrace. I was walking blissfully, enjoying the wonderful moon and clear sky. Terrace as such was carrying a darker shade, as the lights needed a revamp. I just took a long stretch and reached one darker corner. Suddenly felt someone was following me. I gave a panicked turn only to find emptiness around. I felt terribly humiliated and felt sheepish for being coward.

My first stretch to dark corner was unintentional. But this time I decided to go there wontedly so to do away with my silly thoughts. Exactly when I reached that dark corner, I strongly felt someone behind me, and bringing all courage, I turned back. No, I saw nothing. This time, I was trembling. But, ya, I was hearing something. Just cornered the fear for a while and was trying to concentrate. I could now see one woman standing near me. Before I could gather guts to open my mouth, she started speaking.

“Wondering who I am? Got bored living with you for such long years. Still confused? Have not you seen tamil movies? I am your conscience. For you to recognize me I have come in white and white kurta and still you are giving a wild look. Never thought you can be so dumb.”

That piece of info was enough for me to recover. Gave a relieved sign and made sure that she did not notice that I was terribly frightened. I could not tolerate someone yelling at me. Wanted to put her down and said, “Calling me a dumb? In my whole history, not even once I felt your need. Wonder what you have been doing the whole years. Now that you have come out, want me to feed you daily?” For sure I expected her to give a bash, for I could not think her to be much different from me. After all, she is my inner self.

But I was wrong. She was extremely matured and charming. She saw me apologetically, as if feeling guilty for her harsh way of starting a conversation. That look soothed me and I just cooled down. I positioned myself comfortably and was looking at her, trying to read her intentions. A brilliant she, hmm, can I call her Anamica? Ya, a brilliant Anamica, read my mind and said, “See my girl, every individual should look back her life and refine her at some point. It has been a high time now, since you have lived a bit more than quarter century and I don’t see you getting matured. Thought I will stay with you for sometime and mend you. How about this idea of mine?”

I was yearning for a mentor since a long time, and was determined to utilize this opportunity. Before giving a nod, I was worrying about my privacy. She mocked at me and said, “You silly girl, I have been with you all these years in every single moment of your life and you are worrying about your privacy? Forget it. You will be comfortable.”

My first opinion about her was already the best and I came close to give a sure yes. She convinced me and the deal was a day with me. A day is not an unbearable time to spend with a stranger even, and she being my conscience, will not make the day worse, I thought.

By this time, my mother called me down. I just said goodnight to her, promising to entertain her the next day and went inside excitedly.

Forgotton Feeling

2005-04-24T09:00:00.000-10:00

There was more than one way to show our affinity towards motherland in olden days. You can choose to be a warrior, or a faithful messenger, and options were running to pages. During british rule, the wonderful way was to revolt against them. Oh, came freedom and we people started exploring all possible ways to show our patriotism.

Ever thought a set of 11 men can invoke the intricate feeling of patriotism, irrespective of their level of loyalty towards the Nation or the game itself? Who cares whether Manmohan manages to retain Kashmir from bull eyed musharaff? All we need is a turbulent victory in ODI. We forgive them when they are defeated by Srilanka, or even by the coyly Kenya, but not when bowled out by pak. Poor players become vulnerable target of the patriotic souls in India.

Regarding hospitality, we are unbeatable. Should not we be happy enough to greet great general musharaff who conspired Kargil, and who happily eggs on terrorism in Kashmir? A great Indian weaver from Hyderabad presented him a hyderabadi shwerwani, which costed him in lakhs, vehemently disapproving to take any money from Indian Government. Ya, we are uniquely patriotic.

And yes, the portrayal by media should not be ignored here. The top cover story was the places of interest of musharaff and his begum. Trivial things enthuse media, diluting the pertinence of the issue under question. I wonder he is the first diplomat given such a big coverage after Clinton and his family.

Come some calamity, every Indian will long for his turn to serve the deprived. We care little for our old parents; think very little about our fellow neighbor, even less about the deprived children doing petty jobs. But the patriotism phobia drives one mad during the calamity period. Funds from all over India converge to a single point, media will be busy covering the sufferings of people and ineptness of the local government, politicians will be busy blaming each other and we public will be busy sending whatever we can.

The recent occasion to show our patriotism was when TN got tsunamied. The affected got more than what they needed. They were no longer in a mood to accept your old cloth. They demanded from public, found it easy to lie down and eat, blamed the whole India for their state. And if you are someone who decline to contribute to them, beware you will be branded as an agmark anti Indian.

To add to this, we feel inferior and insecure about our roots. “Oh, what a poor Nation India is. What sort of mass She has? Think the citizens will improvise the motherland? No way.” Educated masterminds in our country, who diligently perform their duty of degrading our own Nation, commonly utter these lines. Signing heavily hearing about other nations, undermining our own capacity, feeling low about our self are the dangerous turns that patriotism has taken.

Won’t we realize our capacities? Can’t we measure our achievements? Can’t we bring peace in the house of a needy? Can’t we do away with the mocking foreign institutions money? Can’t our mind be broad enough to think about the deprived few around us? Won’t our Nation prosper if we are determined? And at last, will the citizens hear the cry of this patriotic Indian?

Who is He?

2005-04-16T09:45:00.000-10:00

The day was demanding and I was utterly tired. I retired to sofa, munching chips to pacify my crying stomach, but it claimed more. So, happily ate whatever was served on my plate and was wondering how could I while away my time.

My mother, who was silent till then, opened her mouth once I was done with my plate. Told me that my cousin brother died in an accident. That was a terrible shock to me. He was just 28-year-old chap, married just a year ago. Though we were not closely knit with that family, I always liked him a lot for he was straightforward and genuine. He earned in lakhs, all because of his own will and efforts, and gave solace to his widow mother. I felt bad for his young wife.

Only the terrible moments like this make us to think about God. Usual dialogue is, “No one knows what will happen tomorrow. It is He who disposes.” I wondered if at all He is there? What role He plays in my life?

When I analyse my 26 years on earth, I realize that nothing was out of my hands. I am blessed with good parents. Was showered with opportunities and I chose the one I liked. Did my best. For me, the rewards were proportional to my work and if at all I am thankful that is only to my parents.

When something went wrong, every time I had a chance to blame myself than any one else. Equally, when something goes right, I don’t hesitate to take the credit, for I am very much a part of it. So, my life goes by logic. Hence I don’t believe that God will make magic. Hey, sounds rhyming. Seems that I have become a poet. Forget it and now back to subject.

One thing, which I have noticed, is that success comes more easily to some than lot others. Probably, that they term it as luck. For some, life is always a cakewalk, while for others, it is a difficult climb. Does this mean that God has a say in these persons life? Then, why does not He uses his logic and goes by something which we do not understand? If His world goes by logic, why I am not able to catch that logic?

At this point, let me accept one thing. I have felt His presence. But still confused. Is the one which is driving me is my mind power or God power? When I am given a terrible hit, I won’t allow it to let me lay on my bed for days together. I am quick to bounce back to life, with all mental energy. Who gives me this strength? Am I blessed with this to make up for the ones I am deprived off? Does this mean that every ones life is as balanced as that of mine?

No, I cannot come up with an answer. That will be too much from me. He has different meaning and different form in everyone’s life and I am incapable of defining Him. Everyone perceives Him in his own way and loves Him uniquely. My conscience is my God. Or God is my conscience? Don’t know. But He is the one who always came to my rescue when I felt terribly bad. He is the one who gave me confidence to face the world. Hence my Lord, I fall on Your feet for making me stronger. I fall on Your feet for making me blessed. I fall on Your feet for making me what I am today.

Thrilling Threes

2005-04-11T20:43:00.002-10:00

Three things play important role in my life. Coffee, Rasam and Music. Even a slight change in quality of any of these will displease my taste and ear buds equally, and I will ultimately conclude that they are worth to fill the dustbin.

Imagine drinking badly prepared coffee allied with chicory at the very start of the day! Oh, that is enough to destroy my day. Coffee is at its best, when it comes right to your bed, piping hot, and most importantly, served by someone who doesn’t mind you drinking it with foul mouth. Another occasion which demands coffee is immediately after taking any tiffen. Even a small gap passes like a yugam and the phase ends happily only when hot coffee is served.

Rasam, what can I say about it? The most divine food mankind has ever invented. So soothing and interesting that it brings an unexplainable harmony in your stomach. Hay, stop! Don’t conclude that all rasams bring harmony. The one which is non spicy, which has lot of tomato and which is hot, accompanied by brinjal kari and ulundu appalam only qualify for that.

And lastly music. Lot more to write about this. Nothing irritates me than a bad music. While a bad coffee or rasam spoils your mouth, a bad music spoils your mood. Music is loved for its quality. I strongly believe that it is not made to make you dance, but made to make you feel.

Want to feel energetic at the start of the day? I will suggest roaring Nithyashree’s cassettes as a good starter. Melody lovers can choose Unni Krishnan if at all they have the patience to bear with his occasional sticky and slow moving songs fit to be played on a national mourning day. But Vijay Siva is unparalleled, undissappointing singer gifted with majestic voice that his song would pep up even the most unlively guy on the earth. But I know very little about the old generation singers though.

And about the pollution in music, yes it is polluted when it comes out from a very bad throat or from someone who least bothers about music. For that reason, I hate playing Antakshari. Though the players have different motive than singing a good song, that never enthused me to do a chorus. Antakshari is like drinking coffee mixed with rasam while hearing Unni’s above-mentioned mourning songs. But views differ and I am sure that many of my friends will discard this straight away considering it as a statement by a clueless blabberer. Don’t be surprised if any one of them writes a lengthy blog to counter this.

Hay you, where r u running? Going to get some cds of Vijay siva? Don’t take my words for granted. This place is to pour my views. I don’t expect my mailbox to be full with complaints, for I issue no guarantee.

God I am blessed!

2005-04-08T21:13:00.000-10:00

A small neglect, a small defeat, a small fight is all enough to put my mood off for a day. I curse the Lord for making me feeble, less blessed and at times prone to others’ attitude and activities. Depression is a common experience to many adults and I fall prey to it most often. It demands no solid reasons and blocks my mind as an unsolicited guest.

This week I was in one of those weaker moments, cursing God and myself for making me unfortunate. But then, how do I classify myself as unfortunate? Gave a deep thought about this issue.

That person is unfortunate who has narrow and mean mind. When I see self-centered people, giving a contracted definition for every aspect of life, judging people with their own biased lens, praying to God for their own well being, opening their mouth only to speak about the concerns of their life, shunning other person ruthlessly at the hour of need, I deeply mourn for them. They play an endless game of catching happiness, in which they find themselves always in race, never winning the trophy.

That person is really unfortunate who has the incapacity to think. Dimness with added arrogance is the height of ill fate. Inability to mend one’s own life, being in dark about the bends, which are to be straightened and being content with the timid goals demanding no great efforts, corners one to the verge of life.

That person is unfortunate who runs behind money. Life is a beautiful garden with rich trees and sweet flowers. Beware, water is needed only to nourish the garden, and a flood will definitely ruin it. Finer aspects of life are almost forgotten, and fake things delight them more. A simple food, which is hand eaten, skillfully served on green leaves kept on the floor, delights me more than the one consumed at expensive dining tables with silver spoon. The thing, which separates us from our tradition, which makes us to easily ignore and underrate others, makes one live in illusion for the whole life.

That person is unfortunate who is timid. Courage is a wonderful aspect in human life, which prepares one to venture into unexplored and uncovered path. A worst thing, which can happen to one, is to submit oneself to other’s dominance. A fierce fight, at the needy hour to get back the lost glory is a best feed for one’s self respect.

But I know, I have none of these traits. I have trained or rather forced my mind to go through a wider circle. (Ya, still it is a circle). I have trained my mouth not to talk filthy issues. My hands are wider enough to reach atleast few needy. I am capable enough to analyze my weakness and skilful enough to rectify them. Money never thrilled me, as I take pleasure in doing what my heart dreams. I work for my dreams to come true. And when I have to bark, I make sure I do, feeding my self-respect.

Then why the hell I feel depressed? What made me feel bad about myself? Don’t I have the superior and blessed soul than lot others? Am I not the most fortunate creature gifted with the crucial talents? Should I not thank God for making me blessed? “Oh come on lady. You can do wonders.” Told these words to myself, walked cheerfully to lay one more brick for my glowing future.

Me at Coorg - Part II

2005-03-23T15:22:00.000-10:00

We reached Abby falls when it was 3.00 PM. I started walking enthusiastically, ahead of the group, to get foretaste of the waterfall. Though the waterfall was not affluent, there was enough fluid to amuse us. Brave Heart is a great swimmer and it was time to prove his swimming talents. Soon Confident Blabberer and Quite Killer dived in which motivated lot other young men to submerge.

We ladies preferred watching nature silently. After an hour of silent rejoices, we decided to make a move. Location Planner, who was till then mutely shooting heroic gestures of our colleagues in water, wanted to prove his skills on land. He tried jumping from a relatively higher mount. Policeman nearby was already annoyed as he mistook one of Laughing Thunder’s comments. His act aggravated the policeman and Location Planner let his tongue loose. That was enough to create a storm and situation was out of control. Though we were at no fault, it was not time to fight for justice. I usually tend to loose control and will not miss a chance to exchange blows. I uttered some words which might have worsened the situation, but Laughing Thunder was cautious enough to control me and I was lucky enough as the policeman did not listen me.

Man of the day was Wise Captain. He handled the situation efficiently, trying to soothe the policeman. But for his effective execution of managerial tactics, our day would have been ruined. There was one more incident which demanded Wise Captain’s skill, though I am slotting it for some other occasion.

Nevertheless this reserved our interest to some extent; But we caught our moods back after a small gap. When it was 5.00 P.M. we landed in Raja’s Seat. After a quick stroll at garden, we preferred walking in a bumpy path, rather a difficult terrain to get a better view of the valley. But for Bubbly Beauty’s initial hesitation, everyone thoroughly enjoyed the walk. After that walk, I still found myself left with lot of energy, but it was already late and after a decent dinner, we went back to our rooms.

The tedious day had its impact on Constant Moaner, and she was almost crying due to aching body. We were nearly lifting her to the room and made her comfortable. Wrapping herself tightly with three blankets, she went to sleep. That night went peacefully, with no new tensions about her health.

It was Sunday, and we started earlier that morning, ready to travel towards Mysore. Our plan was to visit Srirangapattnam Temple and Mysore Palace and catch the train. When we were half way through, our driver informed about Dubari forest and lured us saying about elephant ride and boating. Boating never enchanted me. I disapproved the location, but my protest was subdued by majority will.

I prepared myself for that unscheduled visit. The water level was shallow that one could jog in the river and still can reach faster than the boat. But a starving river gives more thrill than a flooding one as the former allows us to have a closer look at her. I enjoyed the ride that way.

We crossed the river, and were eagerly awaiting elephant safari. Seven of us, including the Mahut were on elephant at a time. The journey would have been much interesting had the place been surrounded by green trees. But we could see only dry bamboos, and still that different experience was enough to make me glad.

Our next scheduled visit was to Mysore Palace. But it was too late as we reached that place only by 7.00 PM while we had our train at 8.00 PM. By the time we reached the palace, lights were switched on, the Palace carried a brilliant look. Wise Captain was too busy catching the exteriors, while I was anxious to peep into its interiors for a short while. But we never went inside as it was too late for our train.

When it was 10.30 PM, my mother rang up and asked what she had to cook the next day. Her call made me closer to my place. The next day, I was narrating the whole story to my mother, enjoying her skillfully prepared rasam accompanied by hot appalams.

Me at Coorg – Part I

2005-03-21T20:30:00.000-10:00

All work and no play make Jack a dull boy. Applicable equally for our team also. Team outing remained a long cherished wish and at last we made it. Yes, we set out for Coorg this Thursday and I am all set to share my experience with you.

I managed to reach there well before time and the cauvery express started at 9.30 P.M exactly. I saw all enthusiastic faces, looking for a delightful journey. The journey had a romantic start. Our newly wed, fund manager of the trip became excited as his wife would be waiting for the train at Ambattur station to get a glimpse of him and he was curious not to miss her. Time could not deter love. It was 10.00 P.M. already and his unmindful wife waved devotedly, and our fund manager, was no less devoted and shouted “Anjaliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”. After this quixotic farewell, he happily occupied the seat, ready to take part in group fun.

Each one showed his own singing talents and started playing Antakshari. Our enthusiasm knew no bounds and we unnoticed that the co traveler’s tolerance exceeded its boundary. When we were knocked on our head, decided to keep quite and indulge our self in playing cards. That was too much for me to stretch for long hours, as I was feeling sleepy and retired to my berth.
It was 8.30 A.M when we reached Mysore. Had some food there, the sole purpose being to contain hunger. Hence did not mind much about quality and service and we took a safer bet of eating idlies. Then we started towards Coorg.

We were in Bylakuppe to visit Tibetian settlement and Golden Temple. Every one of us were curious to know much about Tibetians there and their lifestyle, but unfortunately, none was there to answer us. Our Confident Blabberer explained that all living there are monks and even distinguished their status depending upon the colour of dress they wore. I knew about him and was not ready to buy his statements. But when I checked in net, I found him right. Think I will withdraw the name I have given? Nay.

Golden temple there was really wonderful with very good art works, though I lack patience to go through its dexterity. It was a nice trip to Bylakuppe and we decided to go to Nagerhole. Our Location Planner suggested this and we faithfully believed his words, only to find dry woods. After spending almost an hour of traveling, we found that place worthless and decided to move towards Coorg.

I am very much prone to sneezing and occasionally wheezing too, that I was worrying should I carry my sweater so that my journey towards Coorg would be peaceful. But all our stuffs were already lodged safely at the backside of the bus that we could not think of disturbing them. Hence decided to face the cold when it comes. We were reaching Coorg but there was no sign of cold breeze even. When I asked Laughing Thunder, she smiled and said, “Hai, 30 KM from now, see how u will be frozen.” I believed her timidly as she had been to this place earlier.

By that time we realized that it was off-season and Coorg climate is no better than Chennai’s. Our Laughing Thunder and Lovely Leader smiled sheepishly at each other. (They suggested the place). But that could not put off our mood. We enthusiastically walked towards the room planning for a wonderful evening. By that time the main organizers in the other room (the male members of our team) invited us to join them and we had a nice time relishing the photos taken in the morning. What else can be more joyful than enjoying our own images in different variety?

We had a very tight plan for the next day and were set to cover as many places as possible. Again we went to a pathetic hotel, (had no choice), but enjoyed the food (rather the company we had?). Our first visit was to Thalacauvery that day. I could not enjoy that place much since I found nothing interesting. Rather I was not motivated by Goddess Cauvery to the necessary extent as she had been to Tamil Nadu a long time back and we were eagerly awaiting her arrival in vain for years together.

But a climb from that place to a rather hilly structure to get full view of the valley was really very good experience. We were almost 1500 M above ground level and our Mr. Brave heart’s enthusiasm knew no bounds that he initiated climbing on a very high pole that was planted in the center. We were very much panicked, but that did not stop him. As one monkey went ahead, I expected other monkeys also to follow suit. That happened with Confident bluffer and Location Planner following him and it gave us wonderful snaps, a memory which we can cherish.

As a tired team, we assembled back to the bus, still with bagful of enthusiasm, ready to travel towards Abbey falls.

The Top Floor Advantage

2005-03-13T17:12:00.000-10:00

I was used to independent house earlier in my native place, where I was free to go to upstairs, be myself and enjoy nature in that open terrace. After coming to Chennai where land is dearer, we were forced to take up an apartment where in my movements were limited to ground floor, depriving me of the benefits of open terrace.

Fortunately, I now moved in to another apartment housing almost hundred families, gifted with a very big open terrace. I am an ardent believer in physical exercises and see to that I work out at least for half an hour a day. I could practice it with much ease here, having walk for long hours while enjoying cool breeze and chatting with my little neighbor who narrates me about her friends and teachers, reminding me of my school days. But for this place, we would have never talked, and I would have missed enjoying the innocence of that little girl.

Morning walk here is a real bliss, though I seldom do it. Most of the morning hours are spent by me sleeping lazily, a practice, which I hate when others do and yet enjoy doing it myself. Crowded by fearless crows, lovely pigeons and active squirrels, the place remains a very good starter for the day. Also, a clear view of Lord Shiva’s temple situated a kilometer away from my place, gives a great pleasure and peace.

When it is summer, it is vadaam (fryum like stuff, made in-house, used as side dish) time. We could see the whole terrace covered by polythene sheets, with housewives busily engaged in making vadaams. The dough for making this wonderful eatable itself is so tasty, that small children hunt for mamis pleading for a handful of this stuff. Housewives will spend most part of the day here, guarding their hard done vadaams from mischievous children and birds.

My neighbour’s sweet little two-year-old daughter can spend hours together here, as this place gives her enough freedom to play and also she loves watching young children playing and laughing.

This is widely used as a open conference room, with housewives gathering together, by around 8.00 P.M.everyday, busily engaged in secret gossips, (though ultimately reaches the whole apartment depending upon the receptiveness of the lady of the house.), and in-depth analysis of various topics, ranging from their neighbor’s newly bought microwave oven to Trisha’s new hair style.

Not to miss the regular Association meeting conducted here. President of our Association, feeling as if he is President of our nation, will proudly occupy the dais (a table covered with cloth) speaking as loudly as he could, just to make up the absence of mike and will make we residents grumble and murmur because of his long boring advice which he routinely repeats every time. Cool drinks are rarely served and in case they are served, that occasion is marked by a huge crowd of children, enthusiastically taking part in the meeting. After all they are also residents of our flats, having every right to attend the meeting.

That night I was strolling with my cousin and she was talking about an expensive and posh flat that she was planning to buy. Asked her whether the flat has this much open space. When she replied in negative I said, “What a flat yaar? Want to lock yourself between four walls? I won’t leave my place even if I am offered a cozy flat with all amenities”, knowing clearly, that I won’t be offered one.

Shivrathri Experience

2005-03-09T00:00:00.000-10:00

Shiva Temple near our place was very busy, today being Sivarathiri. Though could not spend the whole night at temple, I decided to attend atleast the night service. This time I took a vow to fast, something very rare for which I convince myself to do. After, reaching home at 9.00 PM, started immediately to temple cleansing myself properly. By that time, the first set of pooja was over and Lord Shiva stood majestically, looking gorgeous with the simple flowers that decorated Him.

I was informed that service will start by 11.00 P.M. I decided to wait, as it was already 10.00 PM by then, and leaving at that time would be unwise, as I expected more crowd. To pass an hour, Brahmans chanting ruthram earlier, started singing. They sing to control sleep and keep themselves occupied. Hence expecting to hear Yesudas or Nithyashree will be too much. Everyone tried his voice and I really enjoyed. But a young girl sang excellently well, a real treat to Lord Shiva. That momentary performance came to an end soon and our fervent old men continued.

It was just 10.30 PM and to my astonishment, priest pulled the screen down and went inside. That means, he is preparing for pooja, removing all decorations and making Him ready for next abishekam. So we were happy as the service was going to start half an hour earlier. Head priest came out, removed the screen and we saw Shiva standing royally with His decorations removed, ready for abishekam.

By that time I noticed a lady, clothed very well, to be exact in a manner that did not suit the occasion. Priest, who was ready to perform abishekam, dressed up Lord Shiva once again and I got confused. There stood a small screen star with that lady and God was forced to dress up well just to please these fake stars. Once again karpoora aarathi was taken. I could only laugh when that lady prayed seriously.

As this went on for half an hour, our devotees got distracted and started talking about worldly things. One was worried about her little daughter’s breakfast menu for the next day while the other was admiring the sari of another.

Atlast everything settled down and my Lord became ready once again. It started with Pal abishekam (milk bath) and we all had a hearty look at our Lord who was relishing His regained glory. But for the above mentioned incidents, the other things went on well and brahmanas did a perfect job, with Head Priest involving himself too much, eventually, giving us the satisfaction.

Abishekam was over and again the curtains were pulled down. This time it is to decorate the Lord. The gap was filled in the old way by chanting slokas and singing songs. When the curtain rose, it was really a divine experience and He was really magnificent. Equally skillfully adorned was Goddess Parvathi, looking splendid. It was worth waiting there for three hours.

Everything went on well till the main villain of today’s episode, a young Brahmin announced about distribution of Prasadam. I usually do not take the pain of going in queue to collect the Prasadam and will be content with sacred ash given. Today my mother accompanied me and she was dutiful enough to get some prasadam. When I came out of temple saying goodnight to God, my mother standing outside offered me His Prasadam and I gleefully gulped few mouthfuls. Alas, only afterwards I remembered my vow and became terribly guilty. Cursed the villain once again and started walking slowly, determined to continue with my decision despite of that tempting puliyodarai‘s successful attempt to dissuade me. Ah, I am my own master and I make and break rules. God doesn’t care about these rule breakings. When he accepted the breach by Priest, will not he bear with me for my temptation? Consoling myself, I went to bed thinking about His enchanting looks once again.

Thoughts of Gurumurthy

2005-03-05T19:55:00.000-10:00

This high flung auditor from Chennai, has controversial thoughts on any given issue for that matter. Being a regular reader of Thuglak, I was introduced to his writings few years back. One of his recent articles in Thuglak impressed me a lot and here I am to share his thoughts.

Whole India is crying about foreign direct investments and feeling happy about growing forex reserves. Mr. Guru truly differs stating that India need not feel inferior for not attracting FDI as china or any other country for that matter does. China, being a communist country, never encouraged its citizen to be entrepreneurs. Or probably that was a new concept for China and Chinese are lagging in entrepreneurial skills. But that is not the case in India. Our entrepreneurial skills start from the street hawker who sells vegetables. Every Indian right from lower income group knows the concept of being independent.

It is only the semi educated youth, who depends on government and other industrialists for a decent living is becoming a burden and not the self-confident street hawker who himself is a capitalist. Thus we can conclude that more than half of the Indians are blessed with entrepreneurial skills while the need for capital in china is internally created and that makes china a better place to invest for foreign companies rather than India. To put it clearly, the flow is towards the direction where the need is. They can flourish well in Chinese environment rather than in ours. Neither we need them.

There can only be two reasons for worrying about FDI. One is the need for foreign exchange and the other inability of Indian government to bring in more capital. We no longer worry about forex reserves as our ministers are wondering as how to make use of the huge forex reserves India has. They are thinking about the option of investing in infrastructure projects. The matter of concern can only be the second one.

Economists strongly felt that savings rate is not enough to infuse more capital. Though India is one of the country whose savings rate is higher, economists were of the view that savings rate has to reach 32% of GDP so that India can reach 8% growth rate. Also they strongly believed that fresh FDI capital of 10 billion per year is needed for speeding up the growth rate to 8%.

But to every one’s astonishment, our savings rate was 28% of GDP during 2003-2004 and during the same period, the growth rate was 8.8%. Please note that our FDI inflow during this period was only 4 billion. Economy is not bound by economist’s word.

Our economy works because we save. American economy works the other way. The more the people earn, the more they spend. The reverse is the case here. More the people earn, they tend to save more. Gurumurthy rightly describes our economy as having feminine features, while western economy has masculine features.

Hence a strong message is that we need not give lucrative offers to attract FDI. Our growth is not limited due to non-availability of capital. Left to itself, our sectors will grow well.

I think this view, really needs a deep thought. Any opinion of yours is welcome.

Secularism in India - a Thought

2005-02-27T16:30:00.000-10:00

Secularism has become so a word common in Indian politics that non-secular almost comes synonymous to BJP. Don’t be scared, this is not a political writing.

This word has been corrupted to the core by politicians, that common man confounds and refers to dictionary for the correct meaning. In short, abusing Hindus, taking part in Itfar celebrations, greeting Christians has been construed as it’s meaning by Indian politicians at least. Sadly, even the press has become a part of it and even sad is that they play a mojor role in giving an idea to the common public in India.

Situation in India is so unique. No other country in the world has publicly declared itself as secular. No other country in the world has this much mix of people belonging to various communities. No other country in the world gives special extras for being a part of minority community. As far as the first two are concerned, no Indian citizen regrets. We are broad enough to accept Christians and Muslims as our equals. We are broad enough to accept their different pattern of life. This may sound harsh to most but it is true that it requires some tolerance to accept people from different community as one among us. We did it. But politicians differentiate among equals. There comes the divide.

I am secular. Does it mean that I have to go to mosque or be happy when my poor Hindu brothers are converted to Christians? Secularism means allowing others to practice and preach their own religion within limits. Unfortunately, the whole definition is almost forgotten in India.

The fear is so much among Indian politicians that in Godhra issue where a bogey containing Hindu travelers was burnt, no political party, except BJP and AIADMK condemned it. They feared that their secular image would get spoiled if they condemn this act.

As a Hindu I am concerned about two issues. First is growing cowardice of Indian politicians and second is the rate at which the deprived Hindus are converted into Christians. It is not because of politicians, but because of industrialists and self driven educated youths India has grown to this extent. Politician’s cowardice will create no new damage to our country. Second one is really a major problem. It is sad fact that few Christian missionaries have taken it their major duty to convert Hindus and this act is not condemned to the required extent. When few like Jayalalitha pass anti conversion law, again these bone less politicians shout just to show that they are secular. It is miserable that she was not brave enough to ignore this barking. She repealed the law fearing that this could bring her political crush.

In short an anti Hindu is secular in India. Press emphasizes the same fact. More than half the Hindus believe this campaign. The more educated and more sophisticated they are, less religious they become. They think twice before wearing a religious mark. Not that their belief is vanished. But they have started thinking that being religious is not fashionable. They have started doing religious duties discreetly.

I am one among few Indian citizens who hope that things will change shortly and Hindus will be happy for being one. I still honestly believe that politicians will change and will make India truly a secular country. I still believe that being Hindu will not be seen as blight. May be this blog is a slight exaggeration, but not untrue.

Life in Chennai

2005-02-24T08:06:00.000-10:00

24.02.2005
West Mambalam.
Chennai

I was a bit late for the office as I started only by 9 AM today. Knew pretty clear that state transport will not be fast enough to suit my urgency. Hence took a private auto so as to avoid being labeled late.

When auto man agreed for 50 bucks without arguments, thought it was by luckiest day, and got in thanking God. But alas, I never knew God had different plan. Auto just took a left from my house to reach the main road, and I was amazed to see lines of vehicles, locked to their places.

There stood a gigantic metro water lorry, dutifully filling the water tank, and the driver seemed to notice none of the happenings. He was busy cleaning his ear, watching the tank filling. An impatient young man by the side of my auto was under thorough misconception that the lorrywala will budge for a heavy horn. But poor guy was chided by fellow travelers and ultimately stopped the horn.

Even the little gap available was blocked by a car. The autowala was responsible enough and got down to clear the traffic. The two wheelers started moving, slowly though, but I was stranded, waiting behind the lorry.

It was already 9.15AM and I was worried. To our relief, the lorry moved and the vehicles followed it faithfully and my joy knew no bounds. But it was short-lived. The movement was only to fill another tanker just a few feet away.

After patient waiting of 10 more minutes, our corporation staff looked back to get a clear view of waiting vehicles, giggled gleefully, and took the vehicle.

The usual traffic and difficulty with signals in Anna Salai need not be explained to Chennaities . Passing all these hurdles I successfully landed near Raheja Towers, only to find my auto driver in a bolshie mood to ask more. I ended up paying ten bucks more and managed to reach office at exactly 9.55 AM. Labelled as late once again. (Ah! Who cares)