Bharat Darshan.

Apart from the collossal congregation of millions of Indians at Kumbh to take a dip in the holy waters of ganges

Facts of life!

A man about 75 years of age had very poignantly captured the facts of life in a Sunday edition of Hindu.He pointed out the contradictions in life .

He said ' When I was45 , physically fit and capable of doing all work by myself , I had a peon to carry my briefcase ,a driver to chauffeur me to work place and back and my house was kept in shipshape by my near and dears. In due course of time my children left the nest and are comfortably settled in off shores.The perks of the high office ,peons car driver etc I once held vanished on my retirement .

Now I am old and alone . I can't even get out of my bed in the mornings . I have to pay all bills like electricity, water tax as well as visit banks etc just to keep me aloft. When I can do with some help I have none!

He was not airing his grouses but simply stating the harsh facts of life.Which was observed by the sagacious Adhi Shankara in the prime of his youth 1200 years in his composition Bhaja govindam! Some of his lyrical observations translated from Sanskrit are ------

While a man supports his family , see what loving care they show!
But when his aging body falters nearing the time of dissolution
None , not even his nearest kin will think to ask how he fares!

Boast not of youth or friends or wealth
Swifter than eye can wink , by time , Each one of them is stolen away!

Ramayana of earlier period has the following facts to narrate ----

No man was ever born who could conquer old age.

As a gem vanishes from the grip of an ill starred person , the bird of youth flies away from the body in no time.

At sun rise men rejoice thinking they may work and earn . At sunset they can enjoy themselves. But they don't realise that their lives are shrinking.

As seasons come around men fancy they will be fresh and feel happy . But with each cycle of seasons our lives are shortened.

Old age, like a tigress jumps upon the body and attacks it, in the unseen march of time.

I'll round this morbid fact of life with the gentle admonishment of Adi Shankara in the following verses of Bhaja govindam

Bhagavat gita kimcidadhita
Ganga -jala-lava-kanika pita
Sakdapi yena murari-samarca
Kriyate tena yamena na carca.

A little study of Gita,
Drinking a drop of Ganga water,
A casual worship of Govinda,
Will save you from debate with death.

Bhaja govindam bhaja govindam,
Bhaja govindam mudhamate


Worship Govinda , worship Govinda,
Worship Govinda , foolish one!

Expertise!

Just before the declaration of + 2 exams, the widely read daily allots a sizable portions to the services of Sneha a help line ,to dial away depression.Expertise is offered free of cost to save lives reeling under pressure!

On seeing this annual recurrence I don't know whether to laugh or cry ! We trusted the doctor duo absolutely and look where it has landed us.

It didn't work for me . Would it for others?

Spark.

When my body aches and my spirits ebb and every one around me is lost in their own world, it is then I keenly feel your absence ,dear Vidat .

How is that you always knew ,when I or your brother or father were down and out and offered your ministrations by a gentle enquiry and a kind look that stroked away physical pain and mental agony?

Your problems were manifold ,hundred times more than ours,yet you could shelve them at will and make yourself available to us all each and every second!

O sage , the youth that is adorned with humility and brightened by qualities like kindness ,is youth beautiful!

The above lines from Ramayana is so very apt .

Raghavendran.

One would have thought that having seen death close , first hand nearly 3 years earlier I would be inured to the news of another passing away.

There is a plenty of truth in Yudhishtra's reply to a yaksha 's interrogation,"That the greatest mystery of life is that man thinks he is immortal .He sees people dying around him ,yet he thinks he will live forever!"

Yesterday I received the news that a young lad , on a team outing died when the van he was travelling along with his numerous colleagues collided with another vehicle ,rolled over.Of the 20 or so co travellers he and another were the only causalities .

The picture of this lad , a little wisp of a person ringing my flat bell , greeting me in his high pitched screeching voice ,with a cricket bat slung across his shoulders , enroute to playing cricket in the Marina beach with his college buddies during semester holidays, flooded my mind and the dark clouds of sorrow descended on my brow.

He was unique not only in manner and demeanour but also that he was the only child of his parents , who had pinned all their hopes and dreams on him , having lost a son earlier.

I came to know that he never went on any tours ,that college students tend to go on and off and went only.. with his parents.In all probability he undertook this unfortunate trip because he was to tie the knot in few months from now.He had fallen prey to the feeling of being trapped that seems to grip men on the eve of their marriage, that makes them want to take wings and soar high before they are clipped.

He had so far never indulged in outings with his friends since he didn't have the heart to leave his parents alone.

Roads are mine fields waiting for accidents to happen in every corner.Yet oh yet, why was this wisp of a lad who is yet to taste life and the sole reason of his parents existence be the one to attract Yama's noose? Whilst 20 or so of his colleagues escaped , he couldn't.

When men and women in their twilight years ,having tasted life to the brim are still doddering around why should this young man, be selectively denied of his due? .What is the purpose behind adding some more misery to an already miserable couple?Was this lad's time over ?His mission complete?

The anger that arose within me at the injustice of the creator died away at the sheer helplessness of it all.His ways are inscrutable and the following lines from the Mahabharata comes to my mind.

This day itself do that is good. Let not any delay steal over you. While your plans are in the making , the pull of death is felt. Nobody knows to whom`today will be the time for death . From youth itself , therefore acquire the habit of righteousness. Life is ,indeed evanescent .

This has been accomplished ; this must be done ; this another one is about to be completed --- while indulging in such comfortable reveries , all on a sudden ,one is captured by death.

Death snatches away all -- helpless and powerful, brave and timorous, stupid and wise--even a man who has not been able to accomplish anything desired by him .

The body being closely wedded to death and senility, disease and misery , manifoldly caused, why are you standing still and unconcerned? None could ever oppose the invading hordes of death except Truth.

What is false must be cast out . On truth depends immortality. Through truthfulness one reaches the deathlessness.

He, whose speech and thought are keen and perfectly controlled and who is endued with spiritual energy , renunciation and truthfulness ---he will certainly get every thing!

Safety valve.

I read the hard hitting blog of Tarun Vijay ,about the miseries of Manipuri's and the sordid state of affairs in the North East of our country.

I was aware of Manipuri classical dance form and also knew that Manipuri's fete Arjuna as their son- in- law since yore and that they worship Vasudeva.

But I wasn't aware of their miseries and the writers cry from the heart at the shabby ,shameless and step motherly treatment meted out to them as well as the other states of the seven sisters , by the Indian govt, and the indifference and apathy of the mainland population and the media at large to their conditions, is stirring and effective.

The spontaneous out pourings of comments to Tarun Vijay's write up , the calibre and vocabulary ,is amazing and a eye opener!It strengthens a journalist Kanchan Gupta's observation on the 'Internet Hindus' inter alia 'Internet Patriots.' Young , technical savvy ,highly educated and well employed Hindus ,feeling stifled ,slighted and ostracised by news papers and news channels controlled by middle aged editors and anchors who tailor the news content to suit their 'Super secularists' image , are giving a free run to their pent up views , emotions and rumblings , spraying it like molten lava on the no holds barred Internet!

Woe may betide us, if those living in ivory towers , not in sync with the current generation ,attempts to stem [ block ] this torrent . This is a safety valve.

Mid way.

The mercury has plummeted . the sun that set my skin on fire ,is hidden under dense thick black clouds,its intensity doused miraculously in middle of May!It is raining ! I t is nor a mere drizzle but continuous emptying of heavily laden skies ,that is constantly replenished with gallons of water. A cyclonic storm!

A bonanza to jasmine creepers and the flame of the forests.. A few days from now I will trip into zones , heavily scented by jasmine flowers and see ravishing red flowers eclipse green tree tops!

It is cool and I would have loved to visit the park as when the rain lets up as I did in the past years . But not now.The slush dredged from Coovam that was dumped in the park either following the current fad of going' green' or simply to the cut costs of renovation has in one stroke stifled the sweet smell of freshly mown grass that once pervaded the entire park.

I dare not step on those newly laid designer tiles for fear of having to inhale the stench ,that had evaporated under the scorching sun in the past few months.This down pour will re kindle the nauseous stink.

My strong and silent companions , those poor trees they have no means of escape . They have to stoically stand it out and put up with this unfamiliar manure day in and day out.

Sops.

Lament of a poor woman from a village: The elections are around the corner.Last time I got a TV to watch serials. I cried a lot ,no not by watching serials,but because my husband sold it within a couple of days ,as we have no electricity in our village .My friend's husband living in the neighbouring village,that has electricity also sold the TV as he has no money to pay for the cable connection!

This time around my husband is sure to get a mobile phone,to increase the harvest through sms alerts of weather conditions and the price our crops will fetch . He doesn't know what all those buttons are all he knows is to put thumb impressions,and hasn't the money to recharge it. I am sure he will vote and so will I . He will receive the mobile , effusively thanking our leader and sell it off in a twinkling of an eye and be profusely grateful to him ,before I can speak over it to my sister in the next town .

A middle class middle aged urban woman's lament: I literally have to do a tight rope walking whilst treading the streets as it is full of parked vans,autos and tempos. I dare not walk on pavements,since every inch is jealously guarded by hawkers .If I take a ride the roads are so bumpy that I always hurt. If happen to step on street corners I have no go but to reach for my [asthma] inhaler .

Yes of course my husband files his returns every year engaging a CA .And on polling days we also endure scuffles in long queues and vote!

Gold.

I stepped out in the blazing sun for my hot morning walk. At 8 itself the sun was threatening to vaporise me , but I proceeded on as I had to make few necessary purchases.

Inhaling the sweet scent of paneer roses and wondering how bees were swirling around the rows of floral garlands braided by deft hands to be sold to adorn the deity in the temple,with single minded concentration amidst the razzmatazz of continuous vehicular traffic,bleating horns and constant footfalls ,I crossed the street to pay my obeisance to the deity.

Then as I walked towards the shop to procure the necessities I saw women singly or in two's as well as in groups by the ton, decked up in silks ,chiffon's and polyester's , hurrying towards Panagal park. There were a lot of policemen on duty [not those protuberant one's -it seems that they have all retired as I scarcely see them on the roads these days] regulating the traffic .The policemen were so incredibly young that I on first sight mistook them to be NCC cadets!

All this buzz of activity is unusual on lazy Sunday mornings. Then the importance of the day struck me . Today is Akshaya Trithaya, the day of gold rush !

After completing my shopping of dairy products I made a slight detour on my way back ,to visit my green pals.The park was cool and empty save for few creamy butterflies floating around and gardeners spraying the lawns with water by hand held hose pipes.

Refreshing myself by taking deep gulps of pure ozone ,drinking in the golden light glittering through the leaves and enjoying the undemanding and reassuring companionship of the trees, I vend my way slowly, towards the gate.

I walked ,musing at vagaries of life . Few years back I was also part of the herd. Stalking and stocking gold. Where has the glitter gone?

A voice intruded my thoughts . It was that of the flower maid ,from whom I occasionally buy flowers . Not my regular one . She was relaxing with few others pavement hawkers under a clump of trees , having finished their morning sales.

She was holding a plastic cover of paneer roses .and in the brusque manner of Chennai vendors said ''Inda yedthuko''-take it , its for you. I stopped on my tracks , refused her offer and explained , that my morning quota of flowers had already been purchased . But she insisted that I take it .
When I reached for my purse she waved it aside and told me ,it was a gift. She pressed it on my hand . Seeing my reluctance to take from a poor woman her merchandise without paying for it a crone ,her companion cackled ,'what did we bring. what are we going to take '? I took it,not wanting to snuff her joy of giving, mentally making a note to reimburse her later,then waved at them and walked back home.

Back home I opened the cover half suspicious that it would be the disposable left overs of the day trade viz dried or rotting flowers with petals falling apart.

No it wasn't so . All were fresh and in full bloom with rosy blushes and heady fragrance and double the number of what I normally buy!

A gift from a golden heart !

Namkaran and prayashchit.

I was spared of the task of wading through Vikatan and Reader's digest for jokes or scanning the net for funny blogs ,my daily dose of laughter ,since it landed pat on my plate , courtesey -prime time politicians .

Whist one set of politicians have just ended their sabre rattling against each other within their own party on policy matters another set of politicians of opposing parties have gone on a Namkaran and Prayashchit mode !

An portly politician ,probably furious at being stabbed at the back in the parliament on a cut motion has vent his ire on the offending duo of 'fodder' and 'whistling' fame by calling them 'canines' ,who were faithfully licking their master's[madame's] toes, from the ramparts of a public meeting, tickling the nation to laughter!

The cherubic veteran who was conferred with this honorific tittle' HML[ His Master's Legs]' 'appeared on TV to air his views on the matter.He appeared unperturbed at the recently acquired nomenclature .

He questioned the wisdom of the opposition party in plucking an unknown person and planting him on the platform .And demanded his pound of flesh from his baptiser who had 'pug'naciously demoted him to the level of the panting four legged mascot of Hutch .The prayashchitam to pander his offended sensibilities must be tendered by pulling his ears!

How school boyish ! A teenager's heart ticks merrily within layers upon layers of age and wisdom !

My day was made !It started and ended with laughter .This will keep me afloat for quite some time!

Imitation

Illaya raja was once interviewed, in his heydays by a popular Tamil magazine that wanted to record his reactions, to his tunes lifted by Bollywood without seeking his permission or paying him any compensation for infringement of his copy rights .

I was touched by his humility when he replied that imitation was the best form of flattery .And that for a long period of time in Indian film history it always from Bollywood to Kolly wood viz Hindi to Tamil. This reversal was proof, of Kolly wood film songs coming of age !This was his tribute to Tamil film industry . He had given his best to his job and there lay his satisfaction .He added that he wouldn't press charges, though he was aware that copy right infringements could fetch him a tidy sum .

I am not in that lilting musicians level of creativity.Yet when I stumble upon the words and ideas I have used in my blogs in the media and other blogs ,I can't but recall to my mind his simple motto 'let it be'.

Maybe it is just a coincidence . Several minds thinking alike . Maybe not .

Ironic.

Two sets of opinions. One set is not sad that Vidat is no more ,because otherwise I wouldn't have landed on the Internet. A manna !

The other set is angry at Vidat's early departure because they accord my expressions undue importance and fear that it would strengthen their foe's hands.

The irony is that both belonging to the opposite side of the spectrum do not know who Vidat was .

A twist of fate .

quid pro quo.

I studied Hindi up to class 10 . I can talk and write in Hindi. Both my paternal and maternal grand fathers were well versed in Sanskrit[ considered the mother of Hindi] and could converse in Sanskrit fluently.

In Tamilnadu, Brahmin's are generally considered as invaders from Aryan land --northIndia.Though they have been living here for several centuries. I am a Tambrahm.

Yet when I come across some Hindi speaking people sniggering at the lack of Hindi knowledge of southies and reprimand them at their ignorance of the rashtrabasha I find myself rushing to the defence of my Tamil sisters.

I studied Kannada at primary school ,slip naturally into Telugu when I visit my birth place Tirupathi and found the chattering of my friends in school,college or near at home in Bengali or Gujarati or Punjabi , pleasant .It never jarred my sensibilities .Each language is beautiful in its own way!

There are several wonderful languages in the length and breadth of India that are unique with intrinsic merits.Can any single language arrogate to itself the holier than thou attitude?

The Tamil spoken in and around Chennai is guttural. But the classical liliaceous literature of the Sangam period is gentle and fragrant. The poems of Divya Prabandham are simply too good to be true!That a heavenly choice of words exist in Tamil language is amply testified by Thirupavvai and Kambha ramayanam.

Hindi is a sweet and a musical language . Its gentle ripples, rivals the divine notes of the flute .

It is quite amusing to note that, some strident chauvinists of Hindi or Tamil, often fumble to pronounce 'sha' or 'zha' ,the letters that are unique to the respective languages!

The great north south divide may vanish in due course of time if every school going children ,up north is taught Tamil and the children down south ,Hindi as the third language.

Ads.

Of late ads of chubby babies without their nappies ,gurgling and pattering around with adults petting or pinching them, is shown on TV commercials.To market products ranging from diapers to life insurances.

These ads are steadily growing in numbers. Isn't this over exposure of baby fat an violation of that child's right to privacy?

A tribute to super mothers down the ages.

Dhruva or the pole star is the only star that remains fixed at its position in the sky all through the year since aeons.Dhruva owes this exalted and unique position in the universe to his mother Suneeti.
As a child ,when Dhruva wanted to sit on his father's lap ,his step mother the favourite queen ,pushed him away and seated her own son .The heart broken child was consoled by his mother ,that if he prayed to Narayana ,he would be granted his wish to be near his father.
The child took his mothers word to heart and meditated and concentrated on the lord so deeply that the whole universe wobbled and Narayana had to appear and grant him a boon . Narayana was so pleased with Dhruv's devotion that he promised a special place in the sky after his reign in the earth. And there he is twinkling forever like a solitaire in the northern sky!

India was known as Bharat in ancient times . This name is derived from the first emperor of Bharat varsha or the Indian subcontinent that also included greaterIndia or Akand Bharat.Bharat was the son of Shakunthala who loved her only son dearly yet did not fetter his natural courage that he displayed by choosing tiger cubs as his playmates that frequented the rishi ashram ,deep in the forest where he lived with his mother as a child.Shakunthala brought him up without a jot of fear!And he subsequently became the ruler of this subcontinent and also several out lying areas!
It was Shakunthala ,a simple and loving mother who gifted Bharat to this subcontinent and the people were so mesmerised by the valour and ability of that emperor that hence forward this country was named Bharat in his memory!

A touching incident is related during the Sangam age tells us how a woman sent her only son to the very battle field ,where her husband was slain to replace him and that she questioned the bearer of bad tidings of the death of her son whether he embraced death head on?And was relieved to know ,though grieving ,that she had brought her son well as he didn't turn tail from the battle ground!

Jijabhai the mother of Chatrapati Shivaji related her to son'in his younger days the stories of the valour and courage of heroes of Bharat like Rama, Krishna ,the Pandavas and a host of other luminaries and inspired her young son to give a fitting reply to the Mughals under Aurangzeb --who had defeated all the rulers of India but could never dislodge the brave Shivaji from his kingdom .The fact that Shivaji treated all the women of those he vanquished in battles with great decency was a quality he also imbibed from his mother's teachings.

Lakshmibai ,the Rani of Jhansi fought for her son's lawful inheritance that was denied by the British . She literally put up a spirited fight at the battle field losing her life in this valiant endeavor.

Putlibai the mother of Gandhi ,extracted a promise from her son on the eve of his departure to England for higher studies .She asked him not to touch meat , wine and women.The son kept the promise with the discipline of a ascetic that ,in later days he came to be called the Mahatma.

The mother of Sandeep unnikrishnan who allowed her only child and son to serve our country as a NSG commando , a calling that is fraught with dangers ,whose death brought her grief but also did her proud.

Last but not the least are the mothers who steel their hearts with selflessness and sacrifice and send their sons to serve in defence forces , fully aware that their sons will shed blood so that other's sons in this country need,never not.

Kausalya, Devaki and Yashoda were great mothers . They were the mothers of Rama and Krishna,the avatars of lord Vishnu,. respectively . Their divine role in shaping and influencing their sons, is well known.

Finally my mother, who enlightened me about all the above heroes and their mothers in bedtime stories .

Results.

Two events occurring juxtaposed to each other has taken place .

One is the much awaited death sentence,that was pronounced on Kasab at his dastardly manner of waging war on India . He is said to have under taken this macabre ,merciless killings because of Kashmir.

The second event is that a youth hailing from a remote village in Kashmir has topped in the recently held Indian Administrative services exams! It is his intention to steer his state to the path of progress and prosperity by using the power and resources that will be conferred on him by the Indian state.

Whilst the CST at Mumbai was crowded with relatives of the victims and others ,cheering the sentence awarded by the Judge and distributed sweets ,Srinagar and the village was also resounding with jubilation ,at the outcome of the declaration of the results by theUPSC .

Both,the greeting of the sentence ,with a smile of relief ,by the grieving father of the slain NSG commando ,who said that he often' spoke to his son' and the glow of pride that lit the widowed mother's face [whose husband was felled by terrorists] on receiving the news of her son's accomplishment in the IAS , clouded my eyes. .

Hunger.

I walk an hour a day to shed excess flab acquired over years of feasting in marriages and ceremonies,overeating after delivery and gorging on snacks and sweets dripping with ghee that I prepare for the festivals that occur in clock work precision every month of the year.

I have never known hunger. At the rare times when I actually do I am not unduly perturbed because I could always find something to eat as my kitchen shelves and fridge are always well stocked and I am never lacking in money to order food from outside.

When I chance upon write ups about starvation deaths due to poverty in Orissa or Bihar and that villagers are forced to eat inedible and poisonous roots and seeds to stave off the gnawing pangs of hunger and that a unbelievable number of people, nearly 200 millions of Indians go to bed hungry each day , my stomach knots up and I am swept with shame and remorse.

The anger and angst of the fiery poet's, 'Bharathiyar' words at once comes to my mind.He decreed in his realm [writings] ''Let us destroy this world even if a single person doesn't get food to eat''.

Well off Indians are the butt of criticism for spending lakhs of rupees in gaudy marriages ,showy social and religious functions and extravagant evening parties.

According to Hindu Dharma a 'grihastha' or in other words a householder is enjoined to earn a good living so that he may maintain himself ,his family ,relatives and friends in good health and cheer.He is also directed to wipe the tears of the distressed and the orphans and to do at least one charitable deed a day.

The fact is that no Indian is heartless .It is the lack of a reliable social mechanism to galvanise fund raising from middle and upper classes and its sincere distribution to the needy that is aggravating this heart rending misery of a quarter of our population .
Every well off Indian would gladly contribute his mite only if he was sure that his contributions would actually reach the beneficiaries .

Who will take up such onerous duties ?Who will bell the cat ?

Abuse.

We keep hearing of child abuse in its worst form -sexual abuse.The other equally horrendous abuses presided over by society ,govt and laws ,stunting the growth of a child are...

The force feeding of toddlers with exotic foods like soya flour ,tofu ,cerelac etc the smelly and tasteless branded baby foods by mothers with the fond hope of becoming the proud parents of 'Glaxo babies'. The harsh practise of bathing infants in scalding hot water and even harsher method of the extracting flum from tender throats, physicaly by calloused fingers are the heights of ignorance and sadisim.

The sadistic practise of packing of children at the age of 3 to KG schools and forcing the child to learn and write words and tables when it is too tender mentally and physically to grasp it.
What a reprieve it would be to our innocent children if all LKG and UKG classese are banned and admission to schools , directly to class one is allowed only on reaching 5 years of age.

The heavy school bags the children are made to carry which even a mule will find it difficult to shoulder! The over loading is generally caused by meaningless number of note books and heavy text books.What prevents the minimisation of notebooks to a general rough note book, few class work note books and light weight text books?
Didn't our generation make do with a very few note books and shared text books with our bench mates ? Aren't we all as educated and informed as the current generation?

Pressurising and goading children to score high marks in each and every exam by both parents and teachers. The former ,to compare the score card of their wards amongst relatives, friends and colleagues and to secure admissions in lucrative courses in the best colleges and the latter to raise the prestige of the school and attract students in hordes and shape the institution into a successful money minting machinery. The end result ,the child would suffer panic attacks when confronted with exams.

Sending small kids as young as those in LKG to tuition's !A surfeit recipe to loss of confidence and self esteem.

Involving children in a string of non stop activities like music ,dance ,Casio, painting classes and so on , and cornering every second of the child's day by demanding adults and not giving it time to play or even to be just by itself. An clear abuse of right to liberty and freedom of an individual.

Abuses are galore in our society . It is a lucky child, that escapes unscathed !

Sentence.

The English news channels are at it again . Whilst one set is showing interviews of people who want Kasav to be stoned to death or hung in the gate way of India or roasted alive or lynched by mobs or torture him to a slow and agonising death.The other set is showing visuals of Kasav lying prostrate in a stretcher and mumbling that he did all this for money ,to make his family live whilst he sacrificed his.He is portrayed as a martyr who is being led to the stakes!

The verdict of the common people is clear. The butcher must pay for his rampage. Millions of tongues are wagging and are wondering aloud at this long drawn charade.

Criminals and murderers are finished off routinely in fake encounters without much ruckus.This mass murder is given maximum security and is tried in long winding court procedures ,with the attendant paraphernalia of appeal and pardon and thus providing ample scope for prolonging the life of one who had scant regard for the lives of scores of innocent one's!

Darshan.

The place I live is home to several leading stars and actors ,both current and yesteryear's.

Bus load of villagers either on a sight seeing spree or on religious tours , from deep south ,on visiting the city invariably visit M.G.R.'s memorial [house] in a nearby street.Then on coming to know that famous kollywood stars and actors are all residing within a km radius ,trot merrily towards their houses with great expectations.

Curious women chattering gaily visit the grand old woman's [ comedian] house ,only to be turned away by a unfeeling watchman . They return to their buses filling the street with their abuses ,borne out of their disappointment in not being able to see their favourite star of the silver screen in flesh and blood.

Middle aged men in white dhothis and shirts throng the gates of the one and only greatest actor of Tamil cinema's palatial house hoping to catch sight of that late actors son who is a star in his own right ,only to return shame faced on being greeted by a huge black gate ,shut firmly against otsiders.

Smart young college students shuffle restlessly around the current stars gate to catch a glimpse of those bulging muscles only to be mercilessly shooed away by the security on duty. The youth vent their disappointment by kicking everything nearby, from garbage bins to stray dogs .

There is disappointment and frustration in not beholding the idols , they prop up by shelving a substantial portion of their hard earned money and also shame at being so summarily turned away.

These celebrities though a full fledged public figures cling tenaciously to their privacy and thus fritter away the goodwill of their adoring fans.

I am reminded here of the darshan accorded to train and busload of fans of N.T.R.,who would first visit the august deity at Tirumala and complete the religious circuit by making a trip to Madras to catch a glimpse of the 'devuda' --- NTR the late Telugu actor famed for donning the role of Krishna and Rama in many a film.
He good naturedly acquiesced to their demands and longings by presenting himself at the balcony of his house every day ,humoring and satisfying his fans and gaining their immense good will and wishes!

Teacher.

How can one call a school prestigious when it admits children only if their parents are educated ,so that they can help their children with home work, to score high marks and have the capacity to pay sumptuous donations and exorbitant fees?Coupled with this is the anomaly, sadism [or rank commercialism] of dangling the threat of expulsion or deny admission in + 2 if they do not secure a tidy % in the 10 th exams!

A true teacher is one who unlocks the gates of knowledge and creates an interest in studies and builds up the confidence of the student to face any situation in life .An institute that recruits and trains and retains such teachers is the one that is truly prestigious!

My younger brother and I were proudly admitted by our father in a prestigious 'convent' school in Madras .It was his fond hope that we would pick up good English !Neither of us ,who had till then studied in Tamil medium could follow a word of what the teachers prattled in English .They would read non stop from English text books without pausing to explain or try and make us understand as to what was being rattled off .They were like AIR news readers!

My mother was bogged down in cooking and my father in his work .Though my elder brothers knew a bit of English they were too busy playing cricket or swimming in the Eliot's beach or with their own studies, to spare us some time.The teachers didn't chip in at all .Instead they only mocked at our ignorance of the language and made it worse . We failed in all the primary classes.

Then my dad was transferred to Mysore. He admitted us[ me and my younger brother] in a school run in a small house by the American wife of the Indian Director of the govt office where my father was transferred to .
The American lady had a gigantic frame and a imposing figure ,yet was gentle and patient.She as well as 2 other teachers she had trained took classes . Not once did she mock at my ignorance of the English language. With infinite patience and without the slightest remonstration she taught me the meaning of the words by showing pictures or even taking us on field trips and actually pointing out birds,animals , land marks etc.

My grades shot up and so did my brother's . Since then not once did we falter or fail in any exam. My shame was replaced by confidence and thence forward which ever school I joined be it Hyderabad or Delhi I raised their prestige with my performance . I concede there were some excellent teachers in my long years at school and colleges yet the fact remains that they were reaping the fruits of another's labour --that of Mrs. Parpia the one and only 'real teacher' who gifted me a sound base and the confidence to build over it !

An ear pressed to the keyhole!

Eavesdropping is as old as time.

Kautilya better known as Chanakya has devoted a section on spying in his political treatise Arthasashtra,written by him in the 3rd cetury BC.
The role of a spy was , just as it is now,to gather information from the ruled without their knowledge.

There was no written constitution then . The members of the constituent assembly of India[ my maternal grand father M.Ananthasayanam Ayengar was one of them] who reverently framed the fundamental rights were yet to be born .To him [ my grand father] the Constitution of India was a sacred document and he cherished it dearly and accorded it an exalted position in his life that was second only to the great respect he had towards the Vedas, Upanishads and the Bhagwat gita and the unshakeable faith he reposed in them !
The fundamental right to ,'life and liberty' which has been interpreted to include the 'right to privacy' by the Supreme court of India was unheard of, way back in ancient India.

Chandragupta Maurya the first historical emperor of India, under the able guidance of his mentor and Prime minister Chanakya eavesdropped on his subjects!

He did so with the intention of bringing criminals and wrong doers to justice and to uphold the laws of the land.

Halcyon days.

I very much want to close these floodgates of lifetime of experiences , accumulated knowledge and information and views on every subject I chance upon and get back to relating my halcyon days at Hyderabad and re live those carefree days as a teenager . The flood is still in spate. I have to wait till it tapers off.