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REMAINS OF THE DAY I

                                  THE REMAINS OF THE DAY-1                                         Dec 2016

         As I begin my foot march to my funeral ,I am encompassed by a swirl of past events and present emotions .Anthony Hopkins so beautifully depicts the wholesome surrender of self in the service  as butler to an English Noble ,in a movie with the title of this blog .In my case, I have followed the foot steps of my Lord who has carried me in His arms at the most difficult  times, This is also a story of surrender of self, by which i had received many Gifts , undeservingly, One such is  introduction of La Sa Ramamirutham,  Sahitya Academy Award winning Tamil  writer to me .I loved reading his stories during college days; his word-craft was renowned ;the environment was familiar middle-class conservative families ,Brahminical .So, soon after I joined the army I  took  his address from his publisher and with my cousin Durai we went to his home in Mambalam, Chennai. He was not at home and hence I left my address. Next day I went to see a movie and told my mother that I will not be having dinner at home and will return by 10 P M. My mother wound up the kitchen by 8 and went to bed. In 1968, there was no TV and we did not have even a  radio .Who would expect the great man to come rushing to meet an unknown army captain the very next day. My mother will buy gold, silver jewellery for the gods in all the street temples ,but  was not game to entertain guests.”Ätityo Devo Bhava ”is alright and she used to tell this injunction to explain her observing the “karaladai”penance but was not following it in practice. I can not blame her; our means were poor. She  gave the hint to the gentleman to call it a day but he insisted on staying back till I returned and expressed his desire for some thing to eat .On being rudely told she has wound up the kitchen he said he will not mind having “Pazhedu”=the remains of the day .!We immerse the cooked rice saved in the day in water and use it for the next with curd .And that is what he had! In the home we do not give the leftover to elders as a matter of regard and certainly not to guests. This inadvertent ,trespass  weighs heavily against my chest even now.

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        He was keen to know why an army captain mostly serving in the North, is a fan of a Tamil Writer. I told him that his word-craft is unique—as unique as of the Octaves of Kumara Gandharva and the Bass of Kundan Lal Saigal both of whom the music world can never forget. Also, it was jealousy. I wrote a satirical short story in Tamil and sent it to Ananda Vikatan but got it back with regrets in a fortnight. As Vikatan was conservative  may not have liked my satirical arguments with God and vague single reference to sex, maybe it was rejected. So I sent it to Kumudam ,with the same result . Though this was over five years back then, LSR stories always  lack a reverential reference to gods and almost every story has a hidden  reference to sex .He smiled and asked for specifics and we started talking. There was not even a glass of lime water or peanuts to munch but we continued. Mostly it was me who did the talking, he keenly listening. I can yap a lot ,as Gulabo says .Afterall ,I am from a Bhagavathar family

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LaSa,was born on30 oct1916 and passed away on29 oct 2007.His stories may not appeal to the present generation which is based on fast paced competitive life where patience is at a premium and advertisement is 80% of a product.There was no Tv, not many radios, no satellites no computer no internet, no mobile phones no colour photagraphy, no shiny magazines ,no,no,,,,,,..Yet, you can write a Brothers Karamozov, a story of passion and anger of 3 1/2 days in over 800pages!Life was generally languid-- quiet but not silent, dimly lit but not dark,tired but not lethargic,dull but not without laughter,more smiles and no frowns, lot of sighs but no suicide, many defeats and denials

  but no revenge with knife or acid. There is Victorian stocism and Sai bhaba's Shradda and Saburi. LaSa's stories does not have a Nelson Mandela but many an Invictus.It is as though you are exploring the bottom and peak of a Raag like Kalyani, Lalit or Bhaiavi in a khayal for hours and  emerge defeated in your mission but unscathed in the effort and glorious for the attempt.!LaSa has stayed away from politics, social dynamics of the various” ïsms” and world leaders -be it Hitler or Castro.He had not travelled beyond the confines of Chennai and he has not shown any interest in flora and fauna beyond describing the fragrance of  jasmine and  the ever ewe seeking ram--,it's eyes yellowed with lust. (People notice my eyes also for being yellow. C'mon man, have some respect for my mom. My eyes are yellow with years of nicotine. , which has given me this heart bye-pass surgery and COPD.)

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              LaSa's settings are just families, nuclear or joint and exploring the behaviour of their personae even as you  would explore  a raaga.What else you need if you are a part of a loving ,caring family.''Payoji maine Ramratan dhan payo””Shradda aur saburi. Most problems of present day society arise out of dysfunctional families. Now that they have been made branded and sold as LGBT rights, Living Together, In Relatinship, Same -Sex marriages, there is a complete paradigm shift.In those days husband and wife  were not necessarily sleeping in a seperate bed room for themselves, Those chori si milans gave them half a dozen children,That would be putting it  very crudely, Actually it is a story of intense longings and despair,  Payal bhaje morejhajar pyari Jaag  rahi more sasan nandiya, kaise avun t ohe milnare!! in that haunting raag  Bageshri or Yaad piya ki aye   in raag  Pahadi in the booming voice of Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan which brought tears to the eyes of even. Jawahar Lal Nehru.These women ,mother-in-law and sister-in -law are going to stay awake. This thing is not going to work out.These longings and despair  temper the steel of a very close devoted relationship between the couple.The palestinian refugees inspite of the tribulations and tragedies they suffer,have less number of dysfunctional families than the cherished West. When you have determined to commit yourself to the pusuit of happyness, w/o blaming any one of betrayal and stay focussed on carrying your burden as a sweet assignment ,you have the Chris(Will Smith), the successful stock broker, You dont have to say I love you a dozen times to the spouse daily.Though the biology of a woman is such that it is a beehive of frustrations But I  have seen my mother overcoming them somehow so that we are not despondent. After all she is the only one we have to look after us. Similarly  in so many La Sa stories the wife sublimates her frustrations and loves  her huband who has been rendered useless.. As in Pyasa, Saath Chaloge, binds Gulabo for life,not ephimeral.It is ethereal and eternal.

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.           A young couple have a seven month old boy. Blind. While the couple were carried away in their conjugal enjoyment, the child was flipping about in its cradle bed in the open centre courtyard, a crow comes and plucks out an eye. The other eye also becomes blind in the process. Sense of guilt over whelms the couple and kills their love of themselves even-forget for each other, Just as Mahatma Gandhi describes his guilt that he was massaging his father's feet for quite some time in the afternoon but then in the evening he took a break to go to his wife. It is in those moments, his father breathed his last, w/o Gandhi being at his side .La Sa touchingly  .remember the paras ,But then when the man notes the sensuous bend of her neck and remembers A. C Grayling’.s “”Do I love you for your coral lips, and the kisses I plant there, though  those kisses may melt, mightiest tyrants and waken death to life,he lets go his hesitation. Now, La Sa  comes with his camouflaged language so that

 his books are not turned away from the drawing rooms of conservative people. Whereas I was thrown out by a Whats app group for inadvertently dragging two advt entries below the matter in to my  post ,one of them for condoms..,.......””when ,the fish of life jumps and jumps in jerks and fall in the body plate, the bodies pulsate and the ground gives away”” is nothing but the recital of intense coitus and orgasm with Hemingway's earth shaker to boot.! La Sa pleaded guilty when I gave this  example........ A young woman recently widowed. is sick with morning sickness ,in the backyard of her house near the well. When the neighbour lady inquires “who is the bastard, who has exploited your condition?, the woman continuing to vomit , holds the Mangal sutra of the lady to her face!

            I used to recite these and other sensual and moral stories to my North Indian friends over a, 100 bachelor officers. It is not denied that we were constantly looking for stimulants. Why depend only on those English paper backs or lousy crap of Mastram  in  Hindi, We should lift the veil and enjoy  the eroticism in literature as well, Some of my friends used to wonder why La Sa has not been banned like Lady Chatterley's Lover. Once, as an example of erotic poetry I recited the lines of John Keats: Pillowed upon my fair love's ripening ,breasts ,to feel for ever its soft fall and rise and thus to sleep awake in sweet unrest, Lo and behold , Capt Mohinder Sethi sitting in front of me on the dining -table pulled out a neatly folded chit from his wallet on which these lines were beautifully copied. Thus ended my hubris that Madrasis are better in English than Sardarjis and also my ignorant belief that NDA does not teach humanities well. Any way, such literary pursuits were also a means to defray our driblets of daily desire. My friends also asked, wheher it is possible for a crow to pick the eyes. I do not know about eyes but the crows are always around in our houses as we  offer them food every day as a ritual ,as we consider them to be our Pithrus=forefathers and

I have seen them stealing Life Buoy soap mistaking it's red colour to be from meat,

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           Guru chetra is a story of a pickpocket who takes sanyas, when he finds that the gentleman whose pocket he picked, of the entire monthly salary of  Rs 300 has promptly committed suicide fearing what answer he can give to the creditors like the milkman .With the money he picked, the previous evening ,he had a few drinks, ate a full chicken curry, had a  shot of drug and then paid a woman. The next morning, when he comes to the village tank to have a shave and haircut from the barber, he notices his victim's body lying belly-down wearing the same white kurta which he had  picked. People were commenting “” poor Babuji had lost all his salary to a pick-pocket last evening. He feared for his HONOUR and took his life, but see even in death he is lying  with both his hands doing obeisance towards the main gopuram of the temple.””

         What thing  this Honour is, that he lost with the loss of mere Rs 300/-; he wonders. Asks the barber for a full Mundan, gives all the money he had to him, gets in the tank for a Snan and comes out with only a loin cloth .The search for  the answer to his  doubt has begun .Whether he got the answer and what is it is not told. But, decades later, the ascetic tells his disciple shortly before he ascends to heaven the following:-

       ** Do not worship me, but worship the Guru/Disciple tradition/discipline/system.

        **If any person who loves you or otherwise has a legitimate expectation from you, fulfill it

         **Pride is the worst among the seven deadly sins.It encourages , Wrath and Envy and on criticism does not listen. It is so addictive. It also leads to the so called honour killings.

         **Practise the antidote to pride  viz. HUMILITY.

          ** Honour is nothing but mutual trust viz ,I can trust you that you will meet your obligations to me, honestly.

          After seeing the Film “”Singer Not the Song”” ,1961 film based on 1953 book, I was so taken  by John Mill”s portrayal of Father Michael against the atheist’ bandit ,that I fully subscribe to the ibid belief. What is better is this Guru's teaching to worship the Bhavna. The Sikhs' system of worshipping the teachings of the Gurus, in the form of Gurbhani conforms to this formula and least likely to lead to wasteful practices as in Hindu temples or to fanaticism byJehad as in Islam.

          Dr M Scott Peck, author of The Road Less Travelled, in his most significant work People Of The Lie, observes  in listing the Five Ingredients characterising a Person of the Lie that first is abrogation of responsibility, which is also common factor in all personality disorders. The third ingredient pertains to Pride, is in his own words: pronounced concern with public image and self image of  respectability ,contributing  to a stability of life style but also to pretentiousness and denial of hateful feelings or vengeful motives,””

Honourable citizens elect  Honourable members of legislature and the latter are NOT supposed to betray the  Citizens' Trust in them, Seeing the way the Parliament  is log jammed and ministers doing scams to make money , they are not Hon’ ble  at all. It takes two to tango. Honour is to gain and maintain mutual trust.

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            La Sa 's stories accord great respect for the bond of marriage .There are couples who have celebrated Golden jubilee of their marriage, widowers who have been widowers for over forty years but still remember their wives very  fondly, have lamp  lit by their photos and look for resemblance in their great grand daughters and widows who ,have been widows for over sixty years still furiously fight if anyone speaks ill of their late husband. .Great respect and love are given to mothers, Recall that while emphasising the importance of schooling, Rudyard Kipling says:-There is nothing in this world ALWAYS excepting a good MOTHER, so Worthy of Honour as a Good School .Compare this to these days when a mother is beaten and thrown out  by the son(lawyer).Another is sent to old age home by the son (Doctor) against her wishes. Also when a mother of a two year old  son and expecting a baby kills the son and commits suicide unable to bear torture for dowry at the hands of her husband(Businessman) and his family. After receiving as dowry, 101 Gold coins, two Skoda cars, an apartment in a  high end  society the husband( a judge) shoots the wife dead with his pistol demanding one more apartment for his brother ,Hey Ram!

         Putra is a story in 4^th person viz. By a curse:- “” I am a whiff of wind coming out of the mouth, crossing  broken teeth  and carrying a stench of the mouth of an old lady. My form is: You will not have a son, Even if one is born, he will not last..””..........You can imagine how tortured an old widow would have felt to feel like cursing her own son as above. The provocation is the constant berating of his father who is no more but was a god fearing good man.

           I can not bear to see a child cry, even in a story or watching a movie ,While watching “:”Finding Neverland”” Peter, has  tears welled up in his eyes but does not cry. His puckered lips suppress three different  emotions on three different occasions. Once when he wants to  express fierce independence and his attachment to his late Dad. Next, when he realises the seriousness of his mother's illness .  And  third ,when J Depp has to go away. These  three images are permanently etched in my heart. Similarly, the story of Bhriga , a small 3 year old girl who runs away from home when her dear father teases her that she  is actually an unwanted child somebody had thrown away and the maid  brought her and the parents  decided to keep her. A great tragedy is avoided by the accidental intervention of  her grandmother. The story of Bhriga is unforgettable for me. It may be recalled the Spitz I had before Snowy was named Bhriga.

        The story of Pachchaikkanavu I am reciting in first person.:-I was married when I was  six years old  to a little girl. Shortly afterwards my father told me that we have been cheated  , the little girl was dumb&deaf and we shall have nothing more to do with it .Years passed, and by looking at the sun  too much while I was lying in the fields, my eye sight was affected and I became blind.. All I could see was a vast green field . Green colour  , that is all .Then  mostly I used to  lie next to the canal embankment and keep throwing small pebbles in the water and enjoy the noise created. One day I  noticed that some body else also was throwing  in the same manner. I  asked “” Who is it?  But got no answer This continued for few more days. Then one day  someone softly touched me on the lips and did a cross sign on my cheek and I patted her head to indicate I understood. Another day, she came and lay next to me. There was the scent of a woman .Then she stopped coming, One morning my father comes and says ” It appears that we are still afflicted with karma. We have to go the funeral of  your wife. She has committed suicide by jumping in the well last night. I hear rumours in the funeral that she was 3 months pregnant, My mind goes into a swirl and which ever way look into it, she has done a sacrifice because of me. I do not have the guts to shut the mouths of people who cast aspersions on her by telling the truth.

         In due course my father gets me married to Apitha, who is full of giggles and asks me why  I am sad always. She says that in spite of my blindness I am handsome like MKT. To drown my sadness that was a good hint .I started humming MKT songs. Surdas's  Gnanakkan was my favourite.Some months later ,she snuggles to me and I move my hand  over her belly grown so big. We are expecting, She asks what should we name  her//him? I tell her: you know it as Pachchai, the name by which I used to call that little girl .I continue rubbing my hand slowly over the belly. There is immense pleasure to both the parties, sometimes feeling the movements of the baby inside.

                The act of conception is a great mile-stone for a woman. La Sa , uses the words:””  Amma ,nan undayi irukken= Mother, I have evolved, to announce conception. I only wonder whether the husbands of the tribals who beg at street intersections, who want to beef up bench strength and husbands of Islamic faith who want to erase the minority status and thus subject their women to repeated conceptions, at least  enjoy the mutual pleasure of softly rubbing over the bellies of their spouses.

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              This story raises many social, moral, ethical, legal questions.I am reminded of a situation  depicted for our study of  Sources of Law and Morality of Law. Some scientists are doing research work in a mine shaft, The shaft collapses. Many die, Rescue operations commence on a war footing. Three  scientists are miraculously saved  in an air pocket in the distant end of the mine and by a miracle they are able to communicate with the out side world by phone and they have a hand operated dynamo for power to the phone and torch. They consult outside authorities on all questionsabout their rescue and the following facts emerge.

1.                They have food only for about seven days even after rationing. Rescue may take upto 60 days. Survival without rations may be possible only  up to 20 days. I f anyone dies in the in between  it is alright if his cadaver is consumed.

2.                 If afterwards any one volunteers he may be helped  to commit suicide , Or he may be killed.

3.                If no one volunteers, it may be decided by draw of  lots..

                The draw is held by common consent but the chosen victim backs out. Kill him says the outside experts, But he says, the terms of reference have changed , If it is sheer killing  I am one option  for backing out of an agreement but what about killing the person who is least useful, or the weakest in health or who requires max rations or..........

4.                You are out of our territorial juristiction. You are out of our Govt's jurisdiction. Our morals do not govern you .Do what ever you like. Get lost.

       A gentleman who is an office assistant falls sick with fever it does not get over soon ,It is diagnosed as tuberculosis,. Initially , many people visit their ailing colleague on various days and help out the wife as well. When prolonged over six months, there is only one friend who lives in the next street with his wife and children who comes on a few days on his way to office to take a list of her needs---medicines ,tonics, grocery etc .On  such visits, some times his friend is better and the y discuss various things including news about other colleagues and at some other times his friend is asleep after a bout of coughing or some times into a bout, with his wife holding his head.

       On this particular day, a situation of severe bout exists and the lady requests the gentleman if he can take care of the husband for a short time so that she can just take a quick bath and rush back within 10 minutes .In this short time the patient settles down for a peaceful interval, talks to his friend an suddenly launches himself into another  severe bout which at its ebb, takes his life away.(READERS must thank the researchers in medical science for discovering very effective medicines for complete treatment of TB. It is no more called consumption.)The loyal friend shrieks when the head goes limp. Wife comes running in her wet half bathing dress, looks at her husband's face fondly caresses it, lightly embraces and silently cries .Their constant friend for all these months tries to comfort her by lifting her head and she reluctantly pulls herself away from her husband and goes into a tight embrace which leads to a union of bodies,-coitus, Even before the dead body becomes cold as the antagonists will say, La Sa goes into a long and strong theory:-””Certain things happen. Those things had to happen. That they had to happen and happened gives them a right to happen, No further Right or Righteousness is required. In my opinion there is no need to justify like the discovery of Higgs-Boson .The personae were mutually ambushed into the act which is like chemical reaction when valencies  matched, They were not involved  sentimentally or sensually or even socially before .Nor afterwards .There was not even an inadvertent trespass .About their Honesty there is no question .  About Integrity the Dramatis-Personae get full marks but not the Drama. I disagreed with La Sa and explained to him  how we assess officers both on Honesty  and Integriy, I illustrated with example of Major InderSingh who joined the Indian Army along with his State Forces  Field company.  And was deployed in the  war front in J & K in 1948. While his jawans'' salaries could be paid by acquaintance rolls by the regional CDA, officers 'salary could not materialise  in spite of correspondence by letters and signals.to CDA(O)  for many months .Perforce he paid the officers including himself on the AQ roll and sent a copy to CDA(O) All hell broke loose and the accounts authorities were baying for Maj Inder's blood. He was marched up to the Army Commander Lt Gen(Tiger) Kulwant Singh-- the sobriquet Tiger indicating that he could eat”” you alive! Maj Inder. stuttered Sir Sir I have sent so many signals Sir---was trying to put the files in front of the General, who with one sweep pushed them to the ground, “”You did the  correct thing; Col Kaul, you pick up the files now. You should have supported your officers, You lack Integrity.

          Another instance was from the last regt I served in .By rotation our regt was to provide a platoon for administrative duties. to Corps Hq ,The jonga of the platoon was excessively used by the C O S and the pl. Commander a young  Lt approached the General with the problem who got annoyed and demanded that the officer be sent  back and AFMSF10 be initiated against him .Our CO in Honesty was 9 raised to the power of 9 but he just could not command,  He was always ready to run 10 miles and was of the opinion that it should be at least for 15 days in a month—C'mon for a test to be passed once a year! .He  caved in and filled the dreaded Form , referring him to a psychiatrist  A young officer's training and career are buried for ever My CO lacked Integrity The Gen in this sordid drama is no other than Gen Shabeg Singh who joined Sant Bindrawale. Who says India has not got Dirty bombs--- we have but to be. used against own officers and men, in the form of AFMSF10.,

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 It is past midnight when I walk with  La Sa to Egmore very near to our home to put him in suburban train,  He thanks me for the wonderful meet and I ask for forgiveness for my making him wait. Few months later I receive a letter  in his beautiful handwriting, He is to go to Delhi for Branch managers training in Punjab National Bank Hq. Since this is the first time, he is travelling North he was excited and was also worried ,because of not knowing Hindi. I arrange for him being received at the railway station by my brother-in-law . He stayed in  my sister''s house for about 9 days and then went to stay with some other fan. We are not that great in status or erudition . Still  the Lord gave me his company, I becoming  his Higgs -Boson. Ilaya Raja dedicated his first screen assignment to the great Shivaji Ganesan as  Mudal Mariadai, Similarly, I dedicate my humble effort of a full blog to La Sa Ra in his  Birth Centenary Year. All this effort is also in memory of my most kind sister Jaya who has presented maximum La Sa books to me. In the end, Sumiran kar le manua, Hari ke nam! During my last meeting with my eldest brother in Oct 2009, he taught me and then both of us were singing a  song, invoking Lord Shiva, enquiring from Him, if only He also had a Father and Mother the insults and injuries He had to suffer, could they have happened?(Unakku enru oru thanthai, thai...) I said I sing better and  my brother said No I sing better.La Sa would have certainly liked such ethereal moments, knowing the importance he attaches to the relation of parents. I am attaching 3 photos ,one of La Sa, one of a Haryanvi folk dancer whose beauty La Sa is capable of describing in two words or two dozen words and the third , present day couple  preparing for , unlike the chorisi milan in  La Sa 's stories.

                        WISH YOU A HAPPY 2017

THE HOLOCAUST OF THE ARYANS

THE HOLOCAUST OF THE ARYANS

In the early 1950s the Dravida movement intensified. The DK and  DMK cadre indulged in harassing the Brahmins in innumerable ways. OK, they blacked out “Brahmin’s” from the shop boards of  hotels. But they also used to chop  away  the brahminical style of hair tufts behind the heads of  their menfolk but also pass lewd comments on the women folk. In the name of rationalism, the Gods were mocked  at . On the whole, it was a great stress to be a Brahmin and continue to live in the state of Madras. Tamil is a beautiful and powerful language and  can be fiery with its alliterations and rhymes. “Ariyalur Azhakesare Neengal Andadhu poradha. Makkal Manadhu Poradha?” used to be painted on the black roads with white paint in a huge way- each alphabet about three feet size and effectively ensured the defeat of the Congress for the sin of Ariyalur Rail accident. The Deepawali Special issue of the magazines is a unique feature of Tamilnadu. Kaunanidhi(Kalaignar Dr) started his public life as a script writer and naturally salacious matters attract his followers and if it was offensive to the Brahmins , so much the better.. The” Murasoli”  the mouth piece of  DMK , when he was its editor had in its Deepawali  issue mocked at the mythological excesses of the Hindu Gods in almost the manner of   ToonPorn. A few pages of a latter time i.e 1957  I am attaching with this blog. There was no reaction violent or other-wise to such trespasses against them  from the Brahmin community who are powerless and docile in nature.

There was a time when almost every ministry in the centre and in many states the top civil servant was an Ayyar or Ayyangar. As a result of the onslaught on them, the Brahmins, diversified and have not perished as it happens in most societies. Of course the brilliance of the yonder generation has dimmed, when their beliefs and culture have been attacked but this is part of the great churning process  in every society for one reason or the other. You do not find the children from the Tamils topping  All India results anymore—it is a Gupta or Agarwal these days But Pichai of Google and many other people are examples of the Brahmin parents diversifying to sectors other than Civil Services.Since i967, one or the other of the Dravidian parties is in power in the State after the very violent anti Hindi agitation of 1965- an agitation supposedly to save Mother Tamil, carried out by mostly illiterate urchins.  Language was only an excuse, Political power and the wealth one may acquire if one is not averse to  looting public money or amassing bribe money or accumulating  it by crooked ventures was the real  goal. Gone are the days of Kamaraj and his team. His home minister became a street dweller once the ministry resigned and  Kamaraj had to give a room for his living in  a congress office(BJP also had a president who lived in the office till he breathed his last. ).The contra distinction of honesty of those days can be seen in the capital between the dilapidated state of Satyamurthy Bhawan on  Mandir Marg and  Admiral Nanda’s opulent  home on Lodi Road. Gen Krishna  Rao used to say that he has seen an honest politician in only one—Manik Sarcar. The usual belief in Tamil honesty is a myth nowadays given the stories of a “king” or of  “another and his son” or of others and their tv channels. Nalli’s and G R Thangamaligais are the time pass haunts of the  non- Brahmins now

In the matter of faiths when coercive measures are adopted the results in the long run are always the opposite For evangelical ends, Spanish Inquisition was adopted by the early settlers from Europe in Latin America. The result- maximum concentration of Marxist beliefs in many countries of that continent .Similarly, the war against religion and superstition launched by the so-called social reformer Periyar  should have perished when he married some one young enough be his grand- daughter .However, this was prolonged for some more time by script writers in  Murosoli for their own salacious ends in order not to admit their own lust. Hence  the illustrations for some alleged deviant conducts of the deities so as to berate the Aryans. But, after five decades of being in power. It is the non- Brahmins who adorn tilak etc prominently on their foreheads and perform one pooja after the other. AVIN milk packets are regularly bought and offered to give bath to stone or brass idols of deities, when so many of the children are under nourished,. In-fact,  hutment dwellers who are stingy in buying milk for their children, make a bee-line to the temples to offer pooja.

TRIAL

I want to learn and practise typing in Word and transferring it to Blogspot.

CORIANDER V : LET:THE SIBLING BE

 All my nephews and non-nephews are below par,except one-Sajal. All my  non- nieces are achievers-the one in Singapore being  greatly so and one in Manas triumphantly so. One niece whom i respectfully admire is the one who has taken her adult life in her own hands  struggled a;lot, works a lot beyond fatigue and who has almost single handed stabilised the family to where it is now. It was on 06 Oct 2013- exactly an year ago , she rang up and suo- moto assured me that she is conscientious and will meet her obligations  to her sibling, shortly. Given her sincerity, I also prayed for her, even for a  Miracle., to help her out..

 When, one mentions Conscience, there is an implosion, and the Hound of Heaven peeps in for audit. Do not disappoint him, with your accounts. That is why i began this Serial with the Francis Thompson poem. If she had at the least included the sibling in her Prayers, then a Jayalogam might have answered. . If we mundanely continue  to cook  dinner for default diners or only concerned with an uncertain investment in a child's edn well, how do we answer the Hound.?

Sibling loyalty is not easy. Sibling jealousy is in fact the in- thing.  I  enjoy doing so much for my dog but do resent the work I  have to do for Viji(NOT to confuse with expenses. In fact, the underlying purpose of my keeping a dog is  to be able to spend for others w/o counting money) Particularly, when I have to give  her a glass of milk in the night, I am already sleepy or engrossed in watching  interesting debates on TV or in computer work or dog-tired with a thousand aches from a dozen odd diseases I suffer from. But, I draw strength from the fact that I never tire from garnishing when I cook even though that may be the last thing to do and mostly not even essential . I do not forget to buy coriander  even when it is Rs 20/.'= for 50gms.

I also draw strength from the TRUTH that my cousin Jaya is looking after her elder sister Prema -who is hip-broken and confined to a cot for so many years now, when  nobody can compel her. To jaya herself God has been so unkind  that even "Zindagi rog banegi, hume malum na tha"in the very sad voice of  K L Saigal is  meiosis. And, who will look after  Jaya?Nobody. What-ever we have done for Viji, is sour nothing, when compared to what Jaya is doing. There is a lady who due to her  spirituality, impeccable purity ,god-gifted intelligence and philanthropic  activities is held in high esteem , has many followers and some for the sooth- sayings, even worship her as God. But to me, just as some  OZ player said " I have seen God; he plays at no 4 for India in Tests" I would  say I have seen God; her  Mob No is 9566125497 which she normally she keeps switched off  and then we have to  speak to  Prabhu@9884722166.

About those whose misfortune we know about, let us without fail include them atleast in our prayers , just as we may remember to add Coriander as garnish.

CORRIANDER IV---WHAT IF ? (contd)

Had to conitnue as a seperate post, because of some wrong fingering on the key board by my raw hand.Well, there might be some changes in MSS's fortunes also. Sriram might not have gone to Bombay and so soon to heaven, in which case MSS family might have had more affluence and might help Latchi off and on . As to, Latchi's :- Brin would have married a doctor colleague and emigrated to the States. She might or might not have  named her son Bala.And , Maya, not condemned to be my back-pocket, might also have become a doctor, specialising either in paediatrics or geriatrics.(This reminds me of an exercise done under the supervision of Kaji/Mulla by "seettu kulukkal" wherein we determined what we were in our previous birth; the only slot of human went to my mother and rest was all birds, animals, reptiles and one elf-- which position was Bhavani's. I was a rat; Maya a pig, by which suffix she was addressed for a long time thereafter.Now we have a past life regressionist - as she calls  herself- Priya. She addresses people often in India Habitat Centre and other auditoriums. But has not obliged my request to call me. I am even prepared to climb the stage and admit about my previous birth- whatever she says.)

As to myself, Iwould have graduated from cycle mechanic to motor mechanic by 1960 and make a try whether Subbu  Athhan would adopt me and give me his Norton motor cycle or one of his trucks. He would not. Therefore, with this sorrow eating my soul , I would have moved on to be an helper first and then a truck driver. I would travel to all corners of the country-side, learn many languages. With a  beedi  behind my  ear I would sing loudly and mellifluously to my dog seated in the co-dvr seat. And from far and near  i would bring things big and small to mother at Raj's place, to other sisters and MSS and  his flock. But , monetarily I would be always a Zero, not having learnt either to keep or save. Inspite of being a truck driver i would not have contacted AIDS, because my strong sense of sibling loyalty would keep me a virgin, as  other three are. Not only this; I would be learned, for a truck driver-- knowing Gitanjali by heart and many passges of Khalil Gibran, The Holy Bible and Gurbani.

And in my last days ,when I want to lay my tired bones to rest, I may approach the only crorepathi in the family(Praise be to the Metro) and request him to accommodate me in D272 in the verandah(even as Madhuram Patti was in the pumphouse) as a  chowkidar.. Well, he has to think. He has to ask Kritika.. She hasto speak to Sekar Why can't one be sent from Chennai/. He can NOT decide. Forget it. I may as well lie down on the pavement next to Nigambodh Ghat, along with so many others. And, get run over by a SUV driven by a drunken money-bag.RAM nam sat hai.

 

"WHEN I think of this end of my moments, the barrier of the moments breaks and I see by the light of death thy world with its careless treasures, Rare is its lowliest seat, rare is its meanest of.  lives......Things that I longed for in vain and things that I got --let them pass. Let me but truly possess the things that I ever spurned and overlooked."........GITANJALI  92.

CORRIANDER III---WHAT IF?

WHAT IF our mother's prayer had not fructified in the form of Jayalogam lottery prize? Well, Jaya also would have been a burden on  Raj. By 1960 or so, the Madras branch of the family would have been wound up and  moved to be tenant of some pahadi in Netaji Nagar. He would have got Kamala married(to the same his name- sake and my D O B +10yrs). He himself would be a  bachelor for life.,No match will materialize for this  vadama boy with such long appendages  with an uncaring elder brother and a wayward younger brother ,to boot. Mother will soothsay." Vichha veettu Mani is also a bachelor and is a great man of Thomas-Cook". Raj, as it happens in such circumstances, would have fallen back on religion and instead of singing paeans to GOI, he would  be singing Thyagaraja Kritis.  He might have abominable abdominal problems, with three or four women cooking for him with lot of love and tender care.(as I did have in Green Park, with so many were in the same enterprise minus the additives)