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.Ӏtityo
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 4th
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
