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

I SALUTE WOMEN-II

                                                                                                                 I was in9 th class, i think i.e 1956 or I was in college i.e 1960. Whatever. I was bringing about 20 kg of rice hung in 2 bags on either side of my bi-cycle handle bar and was coming thro' the   Agraharam, about 500 mtrs from the home. All of a sudden, one bag's handle gave way and it fell down and due to the imbalance, the other followed suit. All rice on the road !. I hurried home to info mother and ask her to come with, new bags, "muram" and broom. She, kamala and jaya all refused  as it will be embarrassing for them to sweep on the road in front of other's houses! It was Latchi, then who gathered the tools and set out saying, that that there is no indignity in claiming our own rice. Mother followed and we three completed the task.This was a lesson i learnt from Latchi, which i never forgot to follow. Later, A statue was put up in the Marina beach on the Dignity of Labour, which also removed all notions of indignity in my thought process on legitimate jobs in hand. .

     On the last day of my duty in CME, Pune, as Col Adm, I along with Gen Dubey, the Comdt, was watching the trial of a sewage pump the MES put to demonstration  in the OR family Qtrs area, "Pandit" as the Gen  is affectionately known, is also a "on hands" man. Later on many occasions when Bhagi ,Hari were running away i had to clean the "stuck" WC, with bare hands and also cleaned the dirty OHT once by completely dismantling it!On another occasion, while cleaning the gutter in the bathroom with hands, i retrieved my Topaz ring which was lost over two years back, then! This also helped in my sponging my mother  when she was in coma before her death and very recently, to clean up all the mess when Viji returned from the hosp in very weak condition. I also "cosmetised", scrubbed and gave a bath to her . That was our Diwali, this year!(Mrs Margaret Alva, then M P, now, Governor, was witnessing my service to my mother, as she had brought her mother also to the Nursing Home in RML. She , was truly touched.)

 When i was a much smaller boy,Latchi's problem of throwing up all regular meals( due to black magic on her, by her m i l , it was alleged. Refer to my FB post I S W- I ), was the source of my joy.  She was dependent on " Norukku Theeni". She used to give me four annas (25 paise), and ask for some eatables from the shops and allow me to keep the balance change of a few paise. i used that to build up my fund for  buying tools for my "kurangu velai" from Moor Market(.In 1956, i remember one egg cost 10 paise; now it is Rs5.. In 1950-54, when she was there, thing were even more cheaper) I had already said that it was she who helped me to join the Army. I can say here, that  she along with my mother(who was expert in improvising and doing repairs at home), was instrumental  to my engineering inclination.

 She is very good with the sewing machine and has done so much work  in that sphere for whole family and for many friends and some times to the servants as well. Even now i await her coming and keep work for her.As to cooking,while she is expert in cooking fast, good in taste, she is not the one for dressings and embellishments, as in the past there was no money to spend on them. She is still the supplier for all kinds of  Powders and" Pulikachhal "etc to be eaten with rice, and "karuvadams", to all her children and grand children. Though she came in the early fifties to Delhi, she could not  have a" Rajai" till i spared mine when i left Delhi in  1985 !, Till then , it was for others first and then renewals for them; like that it went..

       

      Like our mother had  some extra attachment to Kamala, she has with Bhavani; but she claims that while she has been equitable to all her four children ,(by pointing out that she gave equal shares after selling the house) our mother  was not. While i can attest to the fact that our mother did not like Latchi for various reasons of her's, i  am deeply perturbed by her wholesome hatred towards her mother; what is more with the passage of time it is increasing!. In 2012 to say that mother did not allow her to study further in the 1940s and that is why as a curse, Vijaya could not study well. In 2013, to say  that conception and birth of Viji spoiled all her plans and is the cause for her present (imagined) grievances. It is nearly 17 years since our mother died..

 Another, unending "deprivation" is 4 daughters and no son. Example of a "Son " like Nana or E Bro does not help. Brin,the  eldest has left nothing  not done as what a son would have done. Others are equally caring. Yes, She is NOT the boss;  the supreme boss,.is the problem .Who is? She was, but no one after her can claim to be the supreme boss!. Though, i am not on character building for elders, i am affected by assertions that  she has done no errors(except that she sold the property) in seven decades that i know her Or more importantly her not' acknowledging the corn' Some how ihave a short fuse on that.They are always and already forgiven, as i as a sinner do not  have a right to'try and punish' others for their sins. But it is difficult to forget, because such things happen every day, when somebody is not capable of making only coloured statements.and is always talking of what she did not get, while others got in the past ;. there appears to be no sense of having received more than what we deserved- as most of us admit. Some, contentment ever?

Well, her feeling towards Bhavani is  that of Meera towards Gopala and her hope is to merge with her for eternity. She has worked a lot for all of us and i hope she has and creates more peace in the future..

GRATITUDE

It was late 1958.I was in A M Jain College.Swami Chinmayananda addressed us, the eager students on Indian Culture.What is Indian Culture? he asked us. There was a variety of answers to include dances like Bharata Natyam, Kuchchipudi, Kathak, Kathakali, Mohini Attam, Naga Dance, Bamboo Dance, Manipuri, Bhangra: Music- Karnatik, Hindustani, Heer,Villuppattu, Quwali; Art like Tanjore, Mainpuri,Rajasthani, Ravi Verma's; Musical Instruments of  myriad types; Festivals like Dusserah, deepawali, Pongal, New- Year festivals of different regions, religions, He cancelled all of them and also said that Indian Culture is NOT what is depicted  in the Republic Day Tableau but is SATYA, AHIMSA and BRAHMACHARYA.

          Brahmacharya, according to him is not celibacy but consists of two parts:1. NOT being covetous and 2. NOT seeking gratitude. I am a practicing Brahmachari ever since that lecture(except for pens!). While i myself am never ungrateful but do not accept gratitude in any form(often it takes the form of quid-pro- quo in the so many scams we hear/read about and is a sister of the" oldest profession".) This was fortified further by my reading of Thomas Hardy"s "Under The Greenwood Tree" . In that story, the village belle falls for the flamboyant younger brother, a sailor and when  it appears that he has ditched her and picked up other girls at every port of call,his father pressurizes the elder brother, a Drummer in the Royal Fusiliers to court the girl. In due course, after so many presents etc., when the simple soldier is about to give her the betrothal ring, the sailor returns and the girl promptly crosses over to him saying to the soldier " Sorry Tom, I mistook gratitude for Love".

    

        The soldier returns to the unit , goes to the Spanish War and a canon shot blasts his chest, he lying open-eyed, recalls"Sorry Tom....."I was in NCC those days and many a nights i used to be  that Tom and have cried on my cheated state and death, in my dreams. Those dreams ensured not wasting my money on any belles!(that book of Hardy was Raj's Non- Detail in BSc and perhaps has an ability to induce dreams; he and his family "believe" i am envious/jealous of him/them.)

        Now in 2013, on Aug31, at short notice, i was forced to take in the old people in E34 and had to turn the set-up 270* apart. I bought for the old man, a commode-mobile, ultra- modern,super-deluxe, revolving luxury model aptly brand- named  KARMA to enable, energize and enrich his delicious defecation experience. I needed no gratitude for the sh**.  However, his boss for six decades asked him to sign a cheque for Rs 4000 in brindha's name. And lo and behold Banja landed up with intriguing fever next-day and the very next day Chinnu, our stray, got bitten by a few dogs and had to be given 28 stitches! He is no push-over and  though neutered like me, has nerve and verve and balls and for a single, simple insulting remark  viz. being tagged as Snowy's Chamcha, he had earlier killed Bhure, the white dog in a single bite!. Sonu is a witness to this execution.(His point was that unlike these Netas, Snowy did not have any chamchas but only Companions, like King Arthur) But now he had to suffer, i had to take him for treatment for nine days and spend over Rs6000. There after w/o any visible mark or blood  Banja Sahib felt he has been bitten by Chinnu  and proceeded to take treatment at Appolo Hosp, to which he is addicted. And further this lurking fear of  dormant virus, has given him  giddiness etc which has been give a name Cervical Spondylitis(who does not have it after 40 yrs of age radiologicaly). He is thoroughly depressed and goes in taxis instead of  autos, fearing he may swoon down. He also avoids our home like a plague(after verifying plague in Wikipedia). Can't a rabid dog take a fancy to him while waiting for a taxi? And even after my telling him that mine was a case of being found unconscious on the chair in the office, my men evacuating me to hosp which diagnosed C.S. After that i cycled from Jabalpur to Delhi and driven over 2 lakh kilometers on scooter, he is not encouraged, "Jaggiradhai" being the hooter he had listened to all his life.He has since spent over quarter of a lakh. 

            The problem is the old man in his nineties is saving his ever increasing pension for his last days- for dhaan-dharm and not for any unwilling gratitude. And, it is elementary, my dear Watson , that  I , like Tom, am allergic to gratitude- the word itself.. I have not dealt with the further problem of Viji's first ever hospitalization, which  is not yet over.  This, blog may contain some contradictions, many satires, ironies, false- notions but the MORAL of the story is - as Sonu says ,always-TRUE.

Moral is never ever solicit gratitude; never accept gratitude; never, never  allow hesitant/half-hearted gratitude to touch you.