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)

CORRIANDER II--JAYALOGAM

Before proceeding any further let me confess, that this is the Sixth time now, that I try to post this. It is the parable of king Richard and the spider which keeps me going.

 While in Hyderabad, both Raj and myself were each taught  a light classical song by our sister- in- law. and a smart convent going girl elder to me used to come to our brother's house. It is her name, that I gave to Bhavani..On return Raj, proceeded to Delhi as  he had been selected for Central Secretariat Service. Resource wise, it was pathetic at home. All we had was Rs65/= p.m. pension of my father. Poor soul he used to take only  one Rupee from his pension for himself. Mother would not reduce the money spent on propitiating Gods at home and in temples .Anyway, she declared that Jaya and me will NOT be  able to resume our school studies and hoped and prayed that some miracle happens giving us some money .Easy going as I am always, I just shrugged and started going to a nearby cycle shop to apprentice. But Jaya was devastated and slumped in a corner w/o food or sleep for three days, all the time weeping or crying.

On the fourth day,  at about 8 PM, the postman called my mother's name and announced "THANTHI". At once all the females, less Jaya, shouted in one voice that it must be from JAYALOGAM where upon I foul mouthed as I always am suggested that it may be from Yamalogam. on which I was given an earful of abuses, this time , the gents also joining. It was indeed from "Jajayalogam" a quiz- lottery in which our mother used to participate. Among my mother's many talents, was her Faith in God's mercy and the belief that miracles can happen if He so ordains

"COGRATULATIONS. YOU WON FIRST PRIZE,BEING SENT BY M.O."---was the message in the wire. As the 1st prize was Rs 1000/=,we spent the night, debating how much "Bakshish" should be given to the postman. .Jaya stirred ,took bath and ate some "pazhedu".Next morning, the M.O was delivered-Rs26/= being my mother's share of the prize minus M.O. charges,as over 30 people had answered the quiz correctly. We gave one rupee to the postman as "inam". The balance was enough to see Jaya and me through to our new classes. A month or so later, Raj stared sending money to us- crisp, new currency notes inside Regd-Insured envelopes Rs 110 or so p.m. Jaya went on to complete her schooling and stood FIRST in the school in her Matric. She immediately got a govt job also and was very helpful in my pursuing Engineering stream in school.Rest is history. 

 

                                           CORRIANDER
                                                   OR  
                               HOUND OF HEAVEN PtI
 ,This was due to be written since long,the subject corroding my heart all the time. Then, when Jamo brought back  my PUC poetry book, the Hound, glaring at me censuring for my lapses, it was time. But  the inter-net was truant.It took a visit from a longtime "friend", who boasts, "he does not believe  in God " for  my memories to gush out;-
    "...I fled  Him down the labyrinthine ways of my own mind......
        Adown titanic glooms of chasme d hears,
        From those strong feet that followed, followed after
        But with unhurrying chase and unperturbe d pace,
        Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
        They beat, and a Voice beat,
        More instant than the feet :
        All things betray thee who betrayest me.   "
As a student, I used to cry if I got less than expected marks in some test for  having betrayed Him by not sticking to my vow of avoiding my wayward ways- recalling this" Voice" of Francis Thompson--it is a different matter that all his beautiful poetry was under the influence of opium!
   The friend who came yesterday is a widower , has seen a 1000 moon.We worked together in Kashmir House in the early Eighties.His eldest child- a daughter- is an epileptic and schizophrenic. A clue to his anti -God vows! Result; He came in such dishevelment, allegedly seeking some succour away from the middle son with whom he is staying, along with his daughter. Youngest son is allegedly earning crores in the U. S. Eldest, an ex Army Maj is staying opp to us in AWHO, but my friend will have nothing to do with him;  the son had allegedly dispossessed him of another property by fraudulent means. They are not even in talking terms( my sons are also not in"talking terms" with me; but, that is at a different level- we talk when absolutely necessary on either grossly mundane OR highly cosmic matters). Despite pleas from Brin and me, he wanted to return home, inspite of the late hour and I had to do the 70 km to& fro trip to put him in a Metro to Delhi.Neither his bitterness about God and Life nor my abiding Faith in His Mercy  and the belief in the Glory of Life  have been affected after the meeting
   In 1950, when Raj had to. join College there were no ready resources and he could join and graduate only with the help of some benefactor and some from our paternal uncle.(Even as i am returning that" Karma" to Chinnu now- not for studies but for living in wilderness).In 1954 after graduation, Raj equipped himself with "kabaddi" of all his books and notes("kabaddi" has been both the family heirloom and sustenance) and took me to our newly married  elder Bro's home in Hyderabad for the holidays(my first&last)(Andhra Pradesh having been recently formed, I , in my ignorance expected the train to be stopped and checked by gun trotting troops a-la, II  WW scenes across Hitler's Europe and was disappointed when it was NOT, even when the passengers were excitedly shouting"this is the border")

SANDEEP

SANDEEP is a software engineer with TCS ,Mumbai.  Is the son of Mondal, our neighbour and long-time friend. Sandeep has been blessed with a son on 27 Aug. Sandeep is much younger to Bhagi or Hari and we are happy he is settling down; has bought a  1-BHK, with housing loan etc.,who Mondal is happy. Why not?
   That reminds me of Dr. Sndeep Jauhar in the U S who has authored a very readable"The Disillusionment of  an American Physician". I hope our own  Boy who is doctoring there has read it. And, if the sit is so rotten there he may as well move to Africa and do some service to the needy instead of being of service to the greedy. Further, USA now  is so much a depressed State, their President himself so much shaken and un-inspiring( Winston is long back dead), with the brutal serial beheadings by ISIS. And a son who is settled has to  do somethings to the parents also. It is alright, one comes and breaks the pot from his head and not turning to look back...... Before that , there are many basics to brave, spades to call, demons to dig out, empathy to emphasize........I am not further proceeding to 'F', lest he may say " f*** you Charlie. Who are you to advise   .......Bye.

TAKING INDIA TO NEW HEIGHTS-

     Poetry is defined as "willing suspension of disbelief ". Watching the Oath taking ceremony of  India,s new Prime Minister, Modi, attended by  SAARC leaders- a ceremony of prolonged and repetitive boredom, i am taking liberties and defining Grandeur as" willing suspension of  boredom". It is as though an incense stick of Hope had been lit and the air of optimism spread by it has'ethered' their own cares, concerns and cabals of the Statesmen, their spouses and aides in a sweet aroma and made them sit through the ceremony for over an hour.Modi has raised hopes for Peace, Stabilty, Co-operation and Development for the region and all leaders of the region have submitted themselves to this new stake. This is a great  opportunity for all Indians to rise above petty, private, political divisions and support the endeavour to reach new heights.

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A war on witches - 101 East - Al Jazeera English

A war on witches - 101 East - Al Jazeera English