2010.

As I look back to the year gone by ,some of the following impressions,articles,entertainment, stories take a precedence over others.

I read very few books and articles,heard few songs,saw few programmes on TV and went on few tours. I have selected the following out of my limited exposure to people and events , that have touched me one way or the other.

The most auspicious event : The kumbha mela at Haridwar.The year was inaugurated with millions taking a dip in the sacred waters of the river Ganga with the immense faith nurtured over the centuries that it would cleanse one of all accumulated karma's.

The Indian of the year: Aam aadmi and Aam aurat---To name a few,the Brahmin priests of temples in remote villages of Tamilnadu,the Fauji[ soldier] and his sons in the thick forests of Uttarakand ,and the teachers of Thirunellvelli [TN] .

The pleasant looking couples: The comely deputy CM's.

The well preserved yester year icons : Dream girl and Angry young man.

The best sports persons:The women wrestlers.

The best English news reader on TV : The host of India 'confuses' [the antonym] programme.

The best tamil news reader on TV : Hostess of morning news on 'King' [translate] channel

The best actor: Ravanan.

The best blog : The one on the hardships faced by an Indian soldier.

The best funny blog: The one on Gothranome.

I found the following articles on dailies and weeklies stirring.
'
The article on the agrarian crisis and the farmers suicide in Maharashtra in daily that is 'secular' but bears a 'communal' name.

The article on the need to respect the privacy of wild animals in wild life tourism in a daily that is a' trailblazer'[ the synonym]

The article on the travails and resilience of a post woman in the jungles of WB in a weekly which is a Desi answer to wikkileaks.

The lament and the pitiful song of the Red Indians in a Tamil weekly--'Pleasant humour' [translate]

The article in defence and in praise of the much maligned public servants by a reader in a daily.
''
The articles on history's immortals dying in the prime of their youth in a' journal' commonly associated with schools.

The best media practises is that of 'Desi wikkileaks' and 'Nerum' or 'Samaai' [translate] of Bharat [translate] on the net for, publishing comments reflecting all shades of opinions liberally .

The best comments on the blogs. :From the analytical to critical ,cynical to poetical ,statistical to whimsical,communal to regional ,lyrical to satirical , philosophical to practical,classical to colloquial,and most of all highly patriotical and democratical ,it would fill a library.


The worst scam , [I can't use the word'best' here canI?] : The 'exemplary'[translate] housing scam .I can see mouth agape in astonishment and hear the exclamatory 'Aah' at this choice of mine.Isn't it 2 G? Raja aur runk [ tax payers] ji? Haan ji . But hear me out.
Whilst the former scam is cursed by the blood of martyrs the latter is by the sweat of honest labour.To me, the former is far more serious.

The TV coverage that had me in its grips was : The one on the tumultuous events leading to the marriage of a Tennis player.

The most memorable court verdict was: The one on Mandir Masjid dispute.

The most memorable event was: The common[sans 'calamity'] wealth games.

The best programme I enjoyed on DTH was AIR Ragam and Retro---old Hindi film songs broadcast and telecast by the 'moon' [antonym] net work . It was abruptly stopped few months back.

The best programme I am enjoying now on 'winning'[translate] TV is the daily 1 hour concert of currently popular carnatic musicians.

The best short story I read was 'Over coat' . Sorry not by any latest author but by a 19 century Russian writer.

The most spiritual moment of all the religious trips I undertook this year was the dip in the icy cold raging waters of Ganges in pouring rain at Rishikesh..

Stare decisis.

There is a lot of hue and cry amongst politicians and and segments of legal fraternity over the trangression of powers by Judges who are seen as usurpers of legislative powers when they lay down the law when called upon to decide Public interest petitions or simply on the cases before them.

An good example of judicial law is Vishaka case.In this case the judges enumerated what constituted molestation of women in work place and laid down the guide lines towards their decent and respectable treatment in such places.This decision an landmark one ,was circulated in all offices. The judges came to the protection of women since there was no law to do so.

There is a raging debate that those who file these PIL's may actually have an inner agenda,to deride a party or govt in power and that it is not up to mark.

The important thing to remember is that Judges deciding them have no such agenda.They are not going to stand in elections or aspire for the Bharat ratna[[has a judge ever got one?]. They are just being human.

If the state fails to act or enact laws on issues staring at its face and it is brought to the precincts of justices what is wrong if men with impeccable credentials, with no bias or favour are stirred to alleviate the miseries of people knocking on their doors?

Judicial activism is nothing but a reflection of, humane nature . To extend help when it is not forth coming from other quarters.

Is it wrong to be human?

Vennu ganam

The crackle of silk sarees , grey hair dyed jet black and the fragrance of the queen of the night,jasmine,adorning short and long tresses filled the auditorium. There was a sprinkling of youngsters and Westerners in ethnic wear.

I have heard this young flautist, several times on my tape recorder. His music , one of my antidotes.Extricating myself from the web of the barrage of heated debates between and amongst verbose and loquacious politicians and anchors on T.V, I willed myself to attend at least one concert of this famous Marghazhi music festival and therefore here I was.

This young flautist is skillful, uses his intelligence to innovate on the usual battered patterns of decades and never let the audience's attention flay.

There is something spiritual in the notes of a flute. It unlocked the happier visions of my lost one as well as the actual debate that has been submerged in my wilful distraction through TV, dailies, magazines,literature,blogging,travelling, etc.

The accompaniments viz mridhangam and ghattam fell silent in a rendition and the notes from the flute flowed over me smoothly in creamy waves of sliced yellow butter. I could see the calves and cows lifting their heads and gazing with their large black eyes in wonder and the swaying grass, flowers , plants and trees stop still, to listen to the divine music breathed into the bamboo reed by the cowherd Govinda in the enchanting meadows of Brindavan.

Crow.

Hey crow, half the length of my arm,

Look at the din you make , thinking I will harm your young one,

When I am pacing the terrace up and down.

The space I claim for my own and you as your own ,

Is neither mine nor yours, oh the crowing one!

Nature.

Dear Lotus,

Do you swipe the rose of the sunset sky,
To brush it on your blushing cheeks ?

Dear Rose

Do you drink in the red setting sun ,
To darken your lips?

Is this your routine?To brighten up the life of the mundane?

Both of you are beyond easy grasp,
One in pond and other in thorn!

A message maybe,
Away thee,only this far,

Enjoy us from afar!

Money.

'O' money you are a gem ,

With you I can pander to all my whims,

I'll willingly be thy slave ,

Only, if you can buy me love ,

And the life of one in grave.

Silence of the lambs.

Yeh radiiaji ne mediaji kho bhakhra banadiya , na ji ?

City roads.

I thought that my mournful song 'City roads take me away' had stirred some soul to act.

The sickening street and 't'errible nagar became clean and neat ,like as if a magic wand was waved, overnight.

I was so overwhelmed by this burst of activity,that I touched wood several times and couldn't wait to shoot of thank you letters to the civic authorities and company.

Ironic isn't it?Clean streets and attending health and hygiene is every citizens birth right.
Do we have it?We cry ourselves hoarse in its pursuit and when it is deigned to be granted ,our gratitude knows no bounds and are besides ourselves with joy!This is what we have been reduced to.

The steady drizzle , unlike the usual cyclonic storms with its howling winds and crashing claps of thunder , was delightful.The school and college boys[tenement dwellers] on leave , played cricket happily in the picture perfect clean open space.My mood was so expansive that I viewed Cooum that is yonder as one would, the river Cauvery.I pondered whether Rishyasringa ,the pure soul, had stepped into Chennai ,since it has been raining intermittently the whole year through.It was all so enchanting that I even penned some poems!

I should have known better.Now every thing is back to square one.I should heed to Bhartrihari's advise when the legendary chataka birds that quenches its thirst only with rain drops cries ...

'O' most bountiful clouds , you are our only support,
Why do you wait for our cry ?

To which he says ...

Ah my dearest chataka, hearken attentively to my words,

There are many clouds in heaven . They are not alike .

Some pour their waters on earth, while others thunder and give forth no rain.

Do not cry and belittle yourself. [from neethi satakas].


But old habits die hard and I am back to singing the same old song.


Hold on, I just heard the whirr of the conservancy truck. Maybe, just maybe I may step on to garbage free ,clean streets.Hope bestirs in me but why should the following observation of Adi Shankaracharya taunt me, sliding through the enormous gap of years [centuries] between us..

Feeble has grown the old man's body'

Toothless his gums and bald his head.

But there he goes , upon his crutches,

clinging firmly to his hope! [ from Bhaja govindam].

The dependant.

Whilst I was residing in the suburbs my next door neighbour ,the owner of the house occupied the ground floor , leased out the first floor to a young man who lived there with his widowed mother and widowed sister.

She had been widowed in the first few months of her marriage,several years earlier, and was staying with her only support, her brother. She was fair , good looking ,frail and listless.

Her despondency vanished when she found employment in a nearby garment factory , that had sprouted everywhere in that area in mid 1990's. The servant maids from nearby cheri switched their plastic baskets to carry the leftovers to snazzy handbags and dandy hair clips on finding ready employment in these units.She was a supervisor of one such factory .

I could see the spring in her steps . She started wearing colourful polyester sari's with zari bordered jackets .

Meanwhile the neighbours wife of 20 long years died of cancer,leaving behind teenaged children .Within 4 months ,he married her younger winsome sister and lodged her proudly in his house.The entire neighbourhood looked askance at the urgency of this replacement . But all attended the marriage with sealed lips.The young widow commented wistfully,"See how this man is allowed to remarry , after such a long married life and with grown children without any murmur of protest from the society. Will I be allowed to remarry?I have to swallow my frustrations and fade away."Her heart wrenching words still ring in my ears.

Her brother soon got married to a woman drawing a very decent salary. All three left their homes to work every morning..

Then a child followed .Then only two left the home for work. The brother and his wife.I soon learnt from the sister ,who spoke in anguish and bitterness that it was decided for the general welfare of the family she should quit her job and look after her brother's child. I hardly saw her outside her house. In the rare occasions when I did, she had grown thinner ,had developed a permanent scowl and slouched around in drab saree's.

Soon another child followed . I scarcely saw this frail women there after on the street but I constantly heard her voice that was growing shriller by the day from the next house.They were however soon drowned by even more shriller voices of her wards.


P.S. Amongst my extended family and friends I have come across widowed women with children marrying men ,very few though,who are eligible bachelors and not widowers or divorcees.These women were young, well educated and holding jobs with a decent salary.

Widowers raise eyebrows only if they marry in haste ie within a couple of months of their wife's demise ,without waiting for a cooling period of 2 or 3 years .How ever a widows remarriage ,after lapse of several years of spouses death ,continues to be a juicy topic for gossip and tongues wag to eternity.

Have things changed?

Sam and jerry.

The U.S and Wikileaks.......Fix tricks! Fix tricks!

Tax.

My eyes were always riveted on the ethereal snow white facade of Ripon building ,whenever I happened to pass it by.

Today I was actually entering this building to sort out some discrepancies in actual payment of tax and what the computer was demanding . It dates back to early 1990's!

The building , the seat of municipal corporation ,at close quarters was quite different. At several places the plaster was peeling off, the heads of pillars were crumbling down,the walls were dented here and there and plants were sprouting in many a crevice.

A major part of the high ceilinged inner office was occupied by files and documents resting on rows upon rows of metal and wooden shelves, apparently undisturbed for ages. There was an inch thick ,brown dust ,coating all the tattered covers and frayed pages of the documents..

I was struck by the historicity of the dust . I t could be as old as British rule in India!

As the ancient computer sputtered out , the officer disappeared in the labyrinth, muttering that it would take an hour to fix it.We the petitioners a fistfull,did what all do here when compelled to wait ,fell into a fitful doze,in our chairs and stools, in the cool interiors ,to the comforting lullaby, of the cranking of a monstrous ceiling fan.

When the computer spurted back to life ,the glitch was ironed out ,in matter of minutes ! Since
all my old bills and orders have been well preserved.Had it been otherwise I would have had to cough up the sum, since 'Computerji' presumably is unaware of the statute of limitations.

Aam aurat.

I read a blog of a leading media network denouncing Social media --viz blog, twitters etc ,in India as purely reactive unlike the proactive main stream media.

I am in this 'Social media' due to a twist of fate.Whilst women of my age in my circle are knitting sweaters for their grandchildren or queuing up outside the American consulate to wrest a tourist visa I am tapping the keys of this computer.The coinage 'Social media' is perplexing . Isn't blogging akin to diary writing. A platform to let off ?

Flamboyant anchoresses and authoresses lament loudly ,at the drop of a hat ,about sexist remarks that come their way.Even a simple Jane like me ,with the tag --senior citizen looming just around the corner ,is often at the receiving end of porn insinuations.

More over I am not a professional journalist drawing a fabulous salary , clinking glasses with the high and mighty or perpetually soar in lofty heights in the company of elitist intellectuals. Nor do I have the backing of any organisation or the attention of millions of viewers[ mine, only a handful] .Neither do I belong to any of these camps...Jolla wallahs or Khakhi's; or Ghandhi topees or their opponents;or the veshti's or money bags.I am a lonerangeress, singing , solitary songs.

Or in other words I am only an 'Aam aurat' ,proud of her 'Bhukha Nanga' Bharat's rich heritage and observant of matters around me,just like any other Indian.

Yet I detect the reverberations to my musings and birds eye view on matters around me, in the 'proactive mainstream media'.My cache' of ideas is repeatedly raided.My every single expression on the doings and misdoings of Westerners is greeted with caustic reaction in print. Some are vicious and their target is obvious.

The tables are clearly turned upside down.

I am concluding with these lines ...I pity the notion that mocks and puts fetters on the freedom of expression of an Aam aurat.

Plague.

What is plaguing those in the helm of affairs?Are they waiting for a plague to professionalise garbage collection , clearance and removal?

Eye catching fountains are commissioned. Parks after parks are being renovated. Fine . Very scintillating and commendable.

But why are residential areas turning to be such a garbage dump?The only similarity between the current sanitary conservation company and its predecessor is that both bear the names of colourful metals. The similarity ends there .The current company is lax , slipshod and indifferent.

Those poor men and women , opposite my line of houses ,have consistently voted for the govt in power. And look what they get in return.

If there is a dirtiest place on earth , this is it , this is it.


Now why should this song keep strumming in my mind?


I have been walking these streets so long ,

Singing the same old song,

City roads take me away from this home ,

Where I don't belong

Away from central Chennai's

Garbage mountain highs!

Granite.

On our return journey to Madurai,the ageing driver of the tourist taxi corrected me that the ugly looking craters on the road side were not hills blasted off for jelly stones but were granite quarries.He pointed at the huge slabs of rose tinted stones,placed one over the other on the road side and smaller stones spattered around and said that those were granite stones ,waiting for shipment abroad and continued in a very matter of fact tone that a local journalist who had written about this large scale quarrying of this precious stone , by a business set which was enriching themselves in 100's of crores ,was promptly beaten .

Auto and cab drivers are a mine of information .Politics---inter national, national and local; finances, and socio-religious matters are all on their finger tips!You name it and they have it.

During the rule of Pandya's,several centuries earlier it is fabled that in their kingdom with the capital at Madurai, lustrous pearls were heaped on the road sides to be sold!Those pearls have vanished in the vacuum of time.Now the void has been filled and have been replaced by an equally precious gem , granite!

Thirukottiur.

When we reached the temple we had to climb steep stairs crouching under huge slabs of stone and crawl few paces in a tunnel to reach the highest spot on the' Vimanam' ,where Sri Ramanuja had stood 1000 years earlier to broadcast to anyone wanting to attain Moksha the' Ashtakshara mantra', he had learnt from a scholar of this village , who imparted the sacred mantra only after the 17 th attempt by Ramanuja to seek it ,from him

I could imagine Sri Ramanuja ,tall and bright,sprinting up these narrow stairs taking 4 steps at a time , his mind in a whirl with the eagerness of imparting the mantra , he had just learnt to reveal the sacred mantra to all irrespective of caste, unmindful of the pain of ex communication by his own caste , lending speed to his limbs and his final burst to the top . Then gathering his breath and shouting as loudly as possible , to the surprise of priests and villagers ,down below the secret to salvation , a closely guarded secret for centuries , a simple mantra , the chanting of which would guarantee a seat in Vaikuntam ......'Om Namo Narayana!

Sambha.

After darshan of Andal and Ranganathar and visiting the garden near the temple that is as idyllic and peaceful as it must have been when Peria aazhwar found Andal in a cradle of flowers and touching that very spot which is maintained reverentially, by the priests ,left on wards to Madurai.The base ,to visit few more temples.

Madurai is a congested city. Its narrow roads are choked with vehicles.It is a lively city . But dirty.The sanitary workers seem to gone on leave enmasse.

River Vaigai , which dribbled like a thin line drawn by a pencil from past memory was gurgling gaily. Its gentle waves were lapping up both sides of the banks.

Our destination early next morning was Thirukottiur. It is 50 kms away from the city. We finally reached the outskirts after our cabby meandered wearily through the thick city traffic ,bouncing over potholes and spraying stagnant water over unwary passersby.The only vegetation for miles on end were dense thorn bushes and scrubs. They bordered the roads as well as those sprinkling of paddy fields ,where transplanting of Sambha rice crop that would be harvested in time for Pongal festival ,was going on full swing,by a line of women bent double over the fields.

A bus load of middle aged foreigners had a good 'Dekho' [look] and with a sumptuous photo shoot they looked highly satisfied at this once in a life time opportunity.To me it is a familiar sight , having witnessed it since childhood.

A petulant dog refused to dislodge from its sleeping berth , right in the middle of the road , in one of the detours , into an inner street ignoring the persistent honking by the driver! It merely lifted its head,so slightly to give the car a contemptuous look and promptly dropped off to sleep! He had to go around it.

Two wheelers rule the roost . Whilst women breeze by in mopeds and scooties, men thunder by sans helmet in macho motor bikes.Old men , agricultural labourers and small vendors speed by in mopeds or pedal away in bicycles.There were several spitting images of our half clad father of nation ,straggling on the road sides .

The travel on the highways was smooth and swift. A treat was in store for me. A peacock glided gracefully across the road to join its family pecking in the nearby fields!

Srivalliputhur.

As I entered the tiny town of Srivalliputhur ,dominated by a intricately carved tall Gopuram [tower] , the emblem of Tamilnadu govt, the songs of parrots flying overhead greeted me .

How apt for the birthplace of Andal,8 th cent AD poetess and ardent devotee of Kesava, the only woman Aazhwaar,whose 'Thiruppavai' still mesmerises the connoisseurs as well as devotees with its beautiful language and faith!
கீசுகீ சென்றெங்கும் ஆனைச்சாத்தன் கலந்த
Keech keech endrengum annaichathatham kalandhu
பேசின பேச்சரவம் கேட்டிலையோ  பேய்ப்பெண்ணே ,
pessina pecharavam kettilaiyo?Peipenne
காசும் பிறப்பும் கலகலப்பக் கைப்பேர்து வாச நறுங்குழ லாய்ச்சியர்  மத்தினால்
Kasum piraippum kala kalappa kaiperthuzhaivasa
narungkuzhal aaichiar maththinal
ஓசை படுத்த தயிரரவம் கேட்டிலையோ ?நாயகப் பெண்பிள்ளாய் நாராயணமூர்த்தி
Osai padutha thayir aravam ketilyo ?
nayaga penpillai? Narayanamoorthy
கேசவனை பாடவும்நீ கேட்டே கிடத்தியோ ?தேச முடையாய்  திறவே லோரெம்பாவாய் .
Kesavanai padavum nee keitte kidaithiyo?
dhesa modaiyai!Thirave lorembavai.

was the verse that came to my mind immediately.

It means....

The musical notes of birds is resounding everywhere !Can't you hear the sound of these pleasant conversations ? Impish girl!

Necklaces of coins, bangles and anklets are tinkling and jangling as the milk maids with fragrant tresses churn curds for butter.Can't you hear the sounds of churning?Leader of women!

As we sing the praises early in the morning, of Kesava [Govinda] the avatar of Narayana [vishnu]

why are you still in slumber?Bright girl ,awake and join us in our worship!


And her foster father Peria aazhwar's timeless verse to ward of all evil eyes that may be cast on the majestic form of Narayana also came to my mind .

பல்லாண்டு பல்லாண்டு பல்லாயிரத்து ஆண்டு பலகோடி நூறாயிரம் .
Pallandu pallandu pallaiyirathu aandu
palakodi nooraayiram.
மல்லாண்ட திண்தோள் மணிவண்ணா உன் சேவடி செவ்விய திரு காப்பே !
Mallandu thinthol manivana! un
sevadi sevhithiru kappu!


Several years ,several years, several thousand years

Several hundred thousand ,crores of years ,

Vanquisher of evil ,strong shouldered, turquoise coloured one,

May the beauty of your red feet be forever protected!

Nellai to Srivalliputhur.

Left Nellai early in the morning by public transport...bus, gliding over the flyover ,on to the highways,towards Srivalliputhur ,100 kms away.

The bus was boarded at several stops by women in their 30's and 40's wearing colourful polyester Saree's decorated by shining zari embroidery , in tune with the current fad,neatly pinned at the shoulders ,carrying handbags,gathering their hair in coloured bands with a fancy clip or two.A gleaming gold chain ,a wrist watch and a single gold bangle were the only ornaments.Gold acquires a special sheen whilst adorning dusky complexions.

Some school [govt] girls in blue churidhar's and white kurta and duppata ...I didnt see a single half sari, boys in freshly laundered white shirts and young men in pink shirts---uniform of ITI's also boarded the bus.

15 kms on, huge Tamarind trees started bordering the road side and bushes of yellow flowers ,scattered riotously ,laughed daintily .Beyond them a km or 2 in the country side I saw huge wind turbines ,aligned in a semicircle. They dotted the landscape for several kms. Not , one of the blades rotated ,though! All were stationery.

The neatly clad women got off in pairs at various points,very near Govt schools. So I had guessed right. The bus was full of govt teachers on their way to schools to teach.

The boys, girls and youngsters alighted soon.The bus ride became boring without their constant chafing and laughter. Whilst the adolescent girls were prim and proper ,subdued and talking quietly amongst themselves,all the boys were in high spirits, full of energy cavorting around in the sheer joy of living. They seemed to be in a mad hurry to unlock the secrets of life and couldn't wait appropriately enough, to scale peaks!

A lot of seats went abegging within.Yet most of those boys were crowding on the foot board. They were enjoying the wind,and the thrill of the risky travel. All the while making wise cracks and
guffawing ,calling each other' machchi' [b.in law]' mappilai' [son in law] and so on. To them every thing and every minute of life is an adventure.Even the mundane travel in a bus to their schools and colleges was converted into a adventurous sport.

The bus soon filled up with others. Barring few old women, all women rural included, drape their polyester Saree's in several pleats and securing them with safety pins. A good market exists for these pins!

Private teacher training institutes and Engineering colleges at an interval of 10 kms is the norm. They line the roads along with the sentinels---tamarind trees with their quavering, brown ripe friuts.

Alwarthirunagari.

Sri Aadhinathavalli Thayaar and Sri Aadinatha Perumaal at Alwar Thirunagari temple

In one of our stops ,Alwarthirunagari ,a part of navathirupathi temples , the tamarind tree under which Nam aazhvar the foremost amongst the 12 vaishnavaite poet saints [2nd to 9th cent AD] was inspired to pour 1300 hymns in praise of Vishnu as well as condensing the essence of Vedas in a concise form ,is still intact!

There are three trees with gnarled trunks.But the canopy is, fresh green The tree with the deepest hollow is the original tree ,from which other trees have been regenerated . The leaves never close when night falls! And there is no emission of carbon di oxide at night .And the fruit never ripens! A botanical wonder.

People from all over the world , more so from the US pay a visit to this temple every year with the sole purpose of sitting and meditating under this inspirational tamarind tree ,for hours together,to experience cosmic vibrations!


The priest of the temple pointed to us the figures of a succession of Pandya rulers of days gone by , who have contributed liberally to the temples upkeep down the ages.They have carved their images along with their families on the steps leading to the main deity!The reason, those mighty rulers really felt that they would be sanctified by the foot of the devotees of the deity ,trodding over them for eternity!

On hearing this, I skirted the prostrate figures , with their arms outstretched in total supplication, on the rock hewn floor on my way out. I simply didn't have the heart to trample underfoot those golden hearted rulers with their matchless humility and touching,deep faith.

It shames me to think that I live in an era where donations and services the size of a pin head are publisiced with great fanfare and pompously commemorated on marbles and granite.And men and women ,who donot posses even a fraction of the power ,wealth and valour of those lion hearted rulers,strut around like demigods ,fawned upon by sidekicks, also pint sized ,squashing every one and every thing underfoot.

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Countryside.

As we sped on the inner roads that are also in good shape with negligible pot holes,the tourist car driver lamented that whilst North India had witnessed unprecedented,heavy rainfalls, not a drop fell on this place, the whole year around.
Yet I saw groves upon groves of Tamarind, Neem ,and teak trees. As well as plantain trees in large clumps waving their green leaves. They are watered by a network of canals of river Tamaraparani and pump sets.The lush paddy fields and sugar cane boughs of Kumbakonam are missing here.

We covered the temples of Nava tirupathi[ 9 vishnu temples]each in a village of within 25 kms radius of each other, dedicated to Vishnu as well as to a corresponding deity of Navagrahas.In this journey I saw old women in villages walk around leaning on sticks twice their height,.Children trip and dance over streets that are totally empty , bereft of vehicular traffic of any kind,on their way back from school.Nearly all houses are pucca with mangalore tiles for roofing. Mud houses with thatched roofs are very few and far between .

Where have all the bullock carts gone?Once ribbed as -speed breakers.I didn't see a single one. The bounty of the land --bananas , were stacked into lorries , mini vans and onto the noisy three wheelers.

Villagers ,men,women and children bathe in canals working up a rich lather of soap like the lifebuoy soap commercials and also wash their clothes.Whilst women walk down ,men alight from their mopeds ,parking them on the road side and enter the water to enjoy a bath in the gently flowing streams. These are flanked by huge banyan trees , with parrots swinging and squeaking on their aerial roots.

Green parrots with red beaks seem to be also fond of temple towers and the gardens of Jasmine, tulasi and Madulai[anar] plants bordering them .The silence of these remote temples with their sparse attendance ,is shattered by their delicious calls and the rustling sound of wind whispering through palm fronds.

Thirunelvelli.

The first thing that comes to the mind at the mention of the name of the deep south city 'Thirunelvelli' is the delicacy it is famous for---Halwa.

No , I wasn't confined in the cramped spaces for 12 hours in a night train in quest of that ,mouth watering halwa, but to visit Nava Thirupathi's and other Divya desams , i.e Vishnu temples that have been sanctified by the presence of Aazhwars , the mystic poets of yore.

Has 'Jal' ,the watered down cyclone from its super cyclone status to an ordinary one threatening TN for the past fewdays, deposited some of its 'Jal' in these inner regions of Tamilnadu as well ?I saw tanks overflowing with water and huge puddles every where. At dawn as we hurtled towards Thirunelvelli , 4 hours away I saw a lone bird bobbing and ducking into a pond sending out ripples of water in ever increasing circles.A very soothing sight ,that eased my claustrophobia.

The station was pleasantly neat and tidy,unlike the one at Egmore where I had boarded the train .In fact all the railway stations in smaller towns in TN are clean with spanking new stainless steel chairs and highly polished granite benches. The one's at Chennai are over crowded and smelly and look decrepit and run down .

I was under the impression that Thirunelvelli would be a small town . I was wrong.It is a sprawling urban area . There are houses and houses every where.Up to 15 kms away from the city , there are innumerable pockets of middle class neighbourhoods.

We tore down the Vajpayee's golden quadrilateral roads on the Kashmir to Kanyakumari high ways smoothly and swiftly for several kilometres and cut in, to reach a neat village , the ancestral home of a leading corporate house of Tn. They have taken great pains to beautify, develop these areas and maintain all the temples , their staff and priests in and around very well.

That village was witness to ,2 historic events. The tossing of Ramanuja who is also known as Emberumanar,a Vedic scholar seeped with bhakthi [ devotion] towards Sriman Narayana [Vishnu],was the proponent of Visishtadwaita philosophy,who strove life long to bring back people who had deserted Hinduism in favour of non vedic religions to Hindu fold; in a stream , by the Brahmin' priests of neighbouring Kerala,that is just a few kms away, where he had gone to preach, after beating him soundly for daring to break strict caste rules as was prevalent 1000 years ago.They couldn't stomach Sri Ramnujars egalitarianism of welcoming all ,irrespective of caste and creed to the fold of Sri Vaishnavism.

A flight of steps downwards,near the stream leads us to the rock where he was dumped. He
slowly recovered and recuperated in these sylvan surroundings, in the shadows of Mahendra giri hills,amidst clumps of banana and coconut trees and paddy fields.

A km away is the place where Thirumangai Aazhwar , the chieftain, Vaishnavite saint poet of 9 th cent AD from Chozhanadu , shed his mortal remains.

It is another place where nature has coloured the canvas in rich colours.

Time

The Aazhwars, the Tamil saint poets who lived between 2 nd and 9 th century AD espoused emotional devotion --Bhakthi ,to Vishnu .Their hymns 4000 in number have been consolidated as Nalayara DivyaPrabhandm. These devotional cum philosophical verses are accorded deep respect at par, along ,with the vedas, by those professing SriVaishavism --a sect of Hindu's who worship Narayana or Vishnu along with his consort Sri or Lakshmi, as the only Supreme being.

There were 12 Aazhwars . They belonged to all castes.

Nammazhwar, a vellalar [ agriculturist] by birth , is held with the highest esteem amongst the aazhwars . He has written more than a 1300hymns. They contain the essence of Veda's and epics. He has made the following observation regarding Time .

ooimin thirai konnarandhu

yendru ullagu aandawar immaiye

tham insuvai madavarai

pirar kolla thamvittu

vemmin olli veiyyil

kanagam poi kumai thinpargal

chemeen choodarmudi

tirumalai veeraindhu adisermin!


Those great emperors,

Who have extracted tributes from others,

In their own life time , have fled in blazing sun,

To forests ,surrendering their wealth and women,

And under went various hardships,

There fore make haste to surrender to the feet of my lord,

The one adorned with a dazzling crown!



Adhi Shankaracharya of 8 th century AD ,who was the embodiment of knowledge and intellect had in his later years realised the efficacy of faith or Bhakthi and has the following observation to make regarding Time

Ma kuru dhana jana yauvana garvam,

Harati nimesat 'kalah' sarvam ,

Maya mayamidam akhilam hitva,

Bramha padam tvam pravisa viditva !


Do not boast of wealth ,friends [power] and youth,

These can be taken away in a flash of Time,

Knowing this world to be under illusion ,

Try to seek the feet of Brahman, the absolute!


Bhaja govindam, baja govindam,

Govindam ,bhaja moodamate!


Worship Govinda, worship Govinda,

Worship Govinda, foolish one!

Filligree of fire.

Was I witnessing a meteoric shower or the Northern lights? Have I reached Indra loka?No , I am on my terrace and the night sky with flossy clouds looks like a huge canvas wherein gossamer golden flowers appear magically ,showering gleaming red, blue and green gems,only to disappear and appear in another corner!

Much water has passed under the bridge yet the thrill and the feeling of oneness with the obvious enjoyment of the people ,all over this country ,from the lowliest to the mightiest, poorest to the richest, clad in their newest or their best ,lingers on .Their enthusiasm to chase away the gloom and darkness by lighting up their houses and sky , is palpable and refreshing.

The hypnotic hold of this festival ,Deepavali,the zenith of all festivals refuses to let go of me ,from its golden grip.

Snake charmers.

Yesterday on Animal planet I saw one person going by the name Austin ....something,a herpetologist, let loose in the forests of Western ghats, pulling cobras resting under rocks by their tails and then teasing them to dance . Prancing over slippery rocks,he snatched a viper lounging under over hanging roots and dangled it by its tail and went into raptures over its pale blue eyes. Then he chanced upon a huge python dozing in the sun and literally got into a frenzy, hugging its voluminous body tightly, all the while panting in ecstasy!

Finally he nets the one he is after , a 14 foot King cobra. He has stayed in the forests of Waynad [Kerala] for weeks together ,to catch a glimpse of this mighty snake ,to take photo's and to touch its hood!

After circling and imprisoning this reclusive noble creature of the forests for a long time with his constant heckling ,he emitted a nerve shattering battle cry of victory after touching its hood. Then he packed his bag and baggages and headed back home[eitherUS orUK],bursting with pride at his own guts and couldn't contain his obvious glee at achieving his life long ambition of touching a King cobra's hood in the wild!

Who allowed this namoona without proper monitoring to enter our virgin forests to satisfy his strange lust?

I find notice boards ,even in our zoo's saying 'Don't tease animals'. But this man was precisely doing just that, in the wild, enjoying it immensely and absolutely thrilled to bits!I find it highly sacrilegious that any one should be allowed to touch animals in the wild.Won't they be robbed of their pristine innocence and be defiled by sleazy human touch?

The hunting of animals may have been banned . It is how ever supplanted by teasing , fondling and prodding of wild animals such as these shows on TV goes to prove.And why pray should we the viewers look at the dentures of lions[African] or tigers after it is tranquilised for some meaningless research like---why, is that particular lion's mane not shaggy enough!After forcing the felines mouth open ,these researchers make a minute examination of all parts of the defenceless, sleeping animal in full view of the camera.Some animal shows are replete with visuals of divers patting patronisingly the flanks of the gentle giants and monarchs of the deep oceans,the whales and dolphins as well as poking and stroking sharks ,that are paddling by minding their own business, disturbing and agitating them !

Aren't these animals ,also, an integral piece of the mosaic of creation , entitled to dignity and privacy?

In my travels up and down this vast country of ours ,in the past several decades, I am yet to come across the proverbial 'Indian snake charmer'.From my arm chair however I get to see these rich peddlers of wild, harassing animals in their natural habitat, in exotic locales of the world.

A peep into the past ......Ajantha and Ellora.

27th september 1971 Monday.

My holidays have begun.Whilst having lunch mother announced that we are all leaving for Ajantha and Ellora on the 29 th and will return on 2 nd October,by car.On hearing this my second brother said that he will not come because he has to study for his exams,that are several months away!Only when we plan to go on long trips he'll get such bright ideas.My mother would not hear of it.

29th September 1971 Wednesday,


Started from the house at 7 AM and were in the outskirts of the city [Hyderabad] a full one hour later due to some delay.

We went via Begumpet .The landscape was entirely different from our usual trips viz from Hyderabad to Tirupathi.After some time corn crops made their appearance and I thought about all those numerous kings and queens who would have passed through these places before my time.We were on the road to Poona. At a spot 250 miles away we have to cut somewhere to go to Aurangabad, the city that is near the caves.

My eldest brother drove the car at 80 kmsph .After 100 miles or so we passed into Mysore state ,cutting through Gulbarga district.It was very cool and pleasant.Then we passed into Maharashtra state . All the villagers were wearing a white cap like the congress 'kulla' . It was funny to pass into 3 different states and to see 3 different traditional costumes.

The place we were travelling through has gentle slopes covered with velvety grass.It looked like Ooty! It was very pleasant to see the grassy slopes and the cattle grazing ,a view which I have never enjoyed in other trips.

We had our lunch at a rest house about 1.30 at some place where there is a old , but a big stone fort with a dried up moat . I wanted to go to that fort but every one objected, as it was too far.Thence forward the scenery became even more beautiful as we travelled on .We had our tea in the car itself in a village . There were tall village women with beautiful faces walking about balancing water pots or bundles of hay or twigs on their heads . I told mother that, if these women entered beauty contests in the cities they would surely be crowned as beauty queens.Mom agreed and said ,since villagers are one with nature, without any artifice they are naturaly beautiful.

My elder two, brothers took turns in driving the car up to Aurangabad which is 350 miles away from Hyderabad. We reached it at 8 PM. It started to drizzle and it was too tough to drive due to heavy traffic on the roads. We went around the town several times seeking accommodation and finally landed in Subadhari lodge.

The 2 rooms are lovely and comfortable ,the only snag was that dinner was not served . So we ate the remains of the lunch, cooked and packed by my mother and went off to sleep . Tom morrow we are going to Ajantha caves.


30 th September,1971, Thursday.

We had our breakfast at a hotel called Kamakshi a small hotel at the heart of the city.At last about 8.30 we pushed off to Ajantha.

It started to rain very heavily . The entire place was covered with water, streams and water falls.I felt weird when we passed through road about 4 feet above the rising and swirling rapid river --Purnam .The rain isn't a passing cloud but Monsoon. At last we reached Ajantha .The 30 caves are in a straight line.

A whole batch of girl students ,I think from Bombay had come.Many of them were pretty and fashionably dressed and my brothers went real crazy!I felt dowdy in my pleat less skirt . I wish I had worn something more stylish.

Took several snaps. There are many paintings out of which 90 % is faded . Every where Buddha , Buddha and ladies with numerous hair styles.All the females in the paintings are wearing belts,socks and are carrying handbags! Really it is a wonder how the people who lived 1000 year s back were so advanced!

We had the lunch of puri and potato that were packed in Aurangabad and started the return journey to that city.Again it started to rain heavily I saw 100 's of water falls in the Ghats ,caused by the rain.At one spot it rained so heavily that nothing ahead in the road, could be seen.Parents asked my eldest brother to stop as they feared that if we proceeded in the pouring rain we may meet with an accident , .My brother didn't stop but drove on and on , without any accident
and successfully passed through the blanketing sheet of rain and reached river Purnam. The road, thankfully was not submerged,The water had,how ever risen further .It was a feet below the culvert .

When the rain thinned down ,we stopped the car and got out to stretch out legs.I saw a sloth bear . That animal ,poor thing was tied from its mouth and nose by a rope and was held tightly by a very short man. He made the sloth to show tricks. I felt very sorry for that animal.

We had dinner at the rest house ,in the dining hall. Gosh ! the laying of the table was as posh ,and dinner as good as it was a in Ranchi Rajbhawan, when my grandfather was the Governor of Bihar!After the gorgeous dinner we all played blind's man buff as it was raining heavily outside . My younger brother wanted to see Hulchul a Hindi film but we didn't . Tomorrow we are visiting Ellora caves.

1 st 0ctober Friday.

Started from the rest house at 8 AM . I was very angry because we did not breakfast at that wonderful lodge but in some stupid hotel.Mother purchased and packed some puri's near that hotel for lunch.Then visited the imitation Taj Mahal known as Bibi Ki makbara. Mother said that it is not as beautiful as the original Tajmahal.After many delays we were on the road to Ellora which is only 18 miles from Aurangabad. As we passed Daulatabad fort, saw the Germans who are also lodged at our rest house.

At last we reached Ellora . There were whole lot of sardarji's who had come to visit a gurudwara ,nearby.Phew! the caves are wonderful, superb, magnificent etc. It was a sunny day and we were in high spirits.My 3 rd brother who is immediately elder to me and my younger brother and I explored many tunnels and caves . Just imagine 1000's of years ago there would have been sculptors carving images of Vishnu, Siva,Buddha,Mahavira and several other Hindu gods. I felt very happy just imagining and dreaming about the past.

We climbed a steep hill in trail of a waterfalls but the stream passed through a fence,so we had to stop.How I wish ,brothers had not wasted the snaps at Ajantha. There are so many scenic spots here . Silly brothers, showing off at front of those girl students.

A batch of English people calling themselves 'Art treasurers 'had come . All old . They were all so horribly pink. I donot like their colour which they are so proud of. Our colour is best.

We reached Daulatabad at 6Pm.and climbed the steep fort of 2 miles , puffing and panting. When I reached the top in saw several peacocks and monkey's. I am utterly tired.

2 nd october

Started the journey back home in the morning. Ate the packed lunch on green, grassy land and had tea at Naldurg.It is a lovely spot. It will be tourists paradise if the govt develops it . The Maharashtra govt is very able. There are comfortable rest houses everywhere in Maharashtra but couldn't find a single one in Mysore or A.P .

Reached Hyderabad at 9 PM .Had our dinner at Tajmahal hotel and came home totally exhausted.

Co ed's

Sometime back my conversation with my niece drifted towards a discussion regarding, co eds versus same gender educational institutions.

She insisted that co ed's were much better.Less noisier .When she attended an all women institution for higher studies ,she was aghast by the full throated screeches, chuckles , yapping and all round gossipping. All at a high decibel!

Noisy ? I never saw it that way.I told her that I was very comfortable in the all girls school and college I had attended in my teens. [ once upon a time, long, long ago,I think I was a teenager too]. Naturally , since conversations in my childhood at home was dominated and steered by the gruff voices of my 4 brothers [ her father included] that centred chiefly and always around cricket,judo , karate,muscles , gym, boxing,Sivaji, MGR ,Devanand , Bharat- Manoj kumar,James bond and Dracula films.Tamizhvanan's Shankarlal, Kalki's Vandhiyathevan, Jim Corbett and Chase stories.Their own he- man exploits and girls!This was replicated with current supplants, -Gavaskar by Sachin, Amirthraj brothers and Bjorg by Paes and Federrer, Kamal andRajini,Amitabh and Aamir, wwf and formula car racing,Goundamani and Senthil comedy after marriage too ,being blessed only with sons.

The girls school I attended was the only place where my voice could be heard , even by myself.
In same gender institutions we need have no inhibitions regarding our dress, postures and looks.Give free vent to our thoughts, feelings without it being drowned by the loud voices of boys, or squirm at their stubborn opinions, scathing remarks and teasing.

My son who studied only in co -eds since nursery was also in tune with the opinion of my niece.He said " Ma your nanne nanne bachche" --' innocent tiny tot' would have turned into a first class rowdy had he studied in a all boys school.It was the presence of girls in their classes that had kept them[boys] in check.

I enjoyed the freedom and the pleasant companionship of my classmates and friends of my, girls only school to the hilt! My sympathies to kids of co eds , they have to be always, on guard.