Shivaliks.

Our tour manager decided to risk it to Devaprayag,a good 60 kms away from Rishikesh and 3\4 th the distance to Badrinath, as news of some blocks on the roads being cleared, filtered in

I was sceptical , since every other person at Rishikesh , the manager of the ashram we were put up at ,nearby tea stall owners and all travellers passing by warned against under taking the trip into the Himalayas as the unseasonal heavy rainfall the cause of which is laid at the door steps of the current scape goat for all natural calamities viz ---global warming, had caused several land slips and they were being cleared at snail pace. But the seniors[60 -70] wanted to proceed come what may ,to fulfill their lifelong ambition of having a darshan of Badri vishal before their final departure.

I had made a trip to Badrinath 35 years back .The memory of the narrow roads curving around the Himalayas with no barricade except one's faith , to a fatal fall at the slightest error of judgement by the driver , 1000's of feet down of sheer drop to Ganga below , is still fresh in my memory.The thought of the landslides blocking half the roads ,baulked me.

The rains stopped. So on Monday morning we entreated the gods by shouting 'Badri vishal ki jai ' and set forth in two mini buses towards our ultimate destination ---300 kms away, up in the Shivaliks.

The small and pristine village of Rishikesh of the 70's has become a sprawling town with a lot of commercial activities.

Ganges was churning away in full spate as we set forth.

The land slips and rockfalls started the moment we reached the outskirts of the town ,after passing by , high end Ashrams. The roads that are very well laid by the BRO were blocked every other 1\4 km, by huge boulders, rocks, mud and uprooted trees. A devastating sight.We experienced spine chilling moments when our drivers had to negotiate sharp bends with only a quarter of the road cleared of debris, with nothing between us and a deadly drop to a watery grave in the Ganga roaring 100's of feet below.

The hand full of bulldozers pressed into service looked like toys at front of the colossal landfalls that greeted us every now and then .Some of us were in a good mind to turn back and return to the safety of Rishikesh ,but several others wouldn't hear off it.

The forests start at the outskirts of Rishikesh and the road winds through lush green mountains. In my earlier visit , there were no landslips and the trip had gone smoothly without a hitch.How ever this time I was caught in a maelstrom. The rains that are set to be unprecedented have caused a terrible havoc on the highways.To top it, mountain streams gush at great speeds over the roads on their way to their tryst with Ganga raging, below. It must be seen to be believed. It is a disaster!

to be contd.....

Saral ---easy.

Since we set foot in the holy hilly town[Rishikesh],on the banks of the river Ganges, it was raining cats and dogs.

My room in the Ashram had no TV . As there was no let up in the heavy down pour,I needed urgently to know what lay ahead.The news papers were all in Hindi. I hadn't read a single Hindi book or magazine since I closed my text books in the final exams of class 10.I wondered whetherI would be able to understand the written contents.

I need not have bothered,. reading the locally available Hindi news paper was like reading a English newspaper with a fair sprinkling of Hindi words!Every sentence had a English word[ written in Hindi]

The following words within quotes ,presented me with the key to understand the sentences. The main news was that the State of Uttarakund was receiving unprecedented rains [ last being 40 years earlier]and that the govt was on ''high alert''. The "cabinet meeting" was called off so that all ministers could take part in" relief "works.

An article on "life tools" in a "mobile"that helped farmers greatly had the following words 'fertilisers','dictionary','pesticides', 'tips', 'live cricket score'and so on. An interview with a actor had used these words 'acting', 'doctor' etc.This generous infiltration ,rendered the task of reading the Hindi newspaper as easy as reading the back of my hand!

Rishikesh

On my recent tour to Badrinath ,I had to touch Delhi.I was at once flooded by nostalgic memories.That of my 5 school friends sunning ourselves in the watery sun of the winter months during the recess , in nearby Buddha jayanthi park.

There was always something to talk about and giggle.The swapping of each others sweaters just for the fun of it and gobbling hot gulab jamuns at 50 ps a plate in nearby, Gol-dakana [p.o.], Bengal sweet house . Always going dutch as our purses were perpetually thin and ill fed.

The thick mango shake doled out generously in tall glasses , characteristic of Northerners hospitality, for Rs 2 , by a sardarji conducting his business in a tiny cubicle with only a mixie as his capital ,in Khanmarket ,satisfying my terrible thirst during the hot summer months ,especially after attending classes at Delhi Univ,on my way home and the 2 nd hand mills and boon books I often bought in the same market to lighten my days,the scrumptious 1 Re masala dosa ,vegetable burgers and cold coffee at 50 ps served at the university canteen,are fresh in my memory .Their taste still lingers on !



Friends, food and books are the pleasant memories of my school and college days at Delhi .There are also some unpleasant one's[vague, though].That of eve teasing, I was often subject to .Some of the male population at Delhi were of the opinion that any female , teenager to middle aged women out in public places and in the buses are a fair game , for cheap thrills.I learnt over a period of time to successfully evade and tackle this menace[stood my ground and took a swipe ].

As we hovered over Delhi before landing at 7.30 pm a glittering spectacle of yellow , red , and blue lights of the city below greeted us.It twinkled and shimmered and looked like a photo of a distant galaxy , captured and beamed by the Hubble telescope!

I stepped out of the plane in trepidation . The TV news channels and blogs had filled me with stories of calamity kalmadi and the mess the roads in Delhi were in the run up to the on coming common wealth games.

Over exaggeration [ i.e regarding the roads]. The roads I travelled through were excellent. No city in India can compare with Delhi roads and its upkeep.Even after the digging up operations, constantly reported , most of the roads are shining strips of tar and concrete.

But once the mini bus we were travelling on our onward trip to the Himalayas entered U.P ,the roads were rattle tops and it became smooth sailing only when we entered Uttarakand ,thanks mainly to the Border roads organisations meticulous efforts.

We reached Rishikesh the first leg of our pilgrimage deep into the Himalayas in pouring rain.The river Ganges which is normally calm.,placid blue lake from my memories of earlier trips,was surprisingly flowing furiously.Braving the constantly pelting rain we took a dip in the holy waters , ice cold to touch.With the backdrop of emerald green hills ,whose top was submerged in white fleecy clouds, I scooped a handful of the toffee coloured ,swiftly flowing river to sip and sprinkle andAdhi Shankara's gentle advise came to my mind

"Ganga jalalava kanikapetha"

Drink but a drop of Ganga's water and put an end to the debate regarding death.

I shivered in the sheer beauty and sacredness of the place.

Rishikesh is a apt name to this place . It is truly a place to meditate as rishi's of yore did. The most sullen minds would be ventilated thoroughly in this sylvan surroundings. Ganga maiyya [mother] flowing perennially and the Himalayas standing solidly at the back is sure to purify and cleanse the vilest minds of its wickedest thoughts.

Could that be the honey i.e attracting several westerners to this place?I saw them everywhere Largely at the most crowded and dirtiest parts of the town. This place abounds in scenic bathing ghats and dotted with serene spots all along the river , a perfect place to meditate and connect with nature. I am unable to comprehend some Westerners inordinate fascination towards the dirty gullies and narrow alleys of our towns.

A huge sad looking Langur sitting pensively atop a wall near Laxman Jula[bridge],obliged every camera totting person's ,by sitting in the same postures for hours at an end.

Our lodgings were in a Ashram ,a stone throw away from Ganga maiyya and we could see her flow rapidly from our windows.The Ashram trains boys inVedic rites and Bhajjans . It is a perfect back drop to a religious tour.Their mellifluous voices rendering the Vedic hymns and kirtans on Hanuman ,Siva and Ram,early in the morning and at night in unison matched well with the age old religiosity of the place.

The spiritual atmosphere,the Vedic chantings, singing of slokas, and hymns through out the day and the Aarthi to Ganga maiyya every evening, rain or shine,is in a way similar to the one prevailing in deep South viz Kancheepuram.The saffron clad sadhu's in their matted long tresses ,beards Rudraksha malaas and ash smeared foreheads , seen every where, do their bit to enhance the religiosity of this cool, quiet and picturesque town.

Thai's,

Amongst our S.E Asian neighbours,I feel a natural kinship with the people of Thailand.

I have felt this close affinity with the Thai's since my primary school days, during my stay at Mysore. I befriended several SE Asian post graduate students--Japanese, North and South Koreans, Philippians's and Thai's.I remember that I got along famously with a Thai PG student. There was simply no barriers[cultural] between us. He could have been from one of our North -Eastern states. He was just like one of us.

I still remember his name --Suchon Nimmanit!Years may roll by and one may gather multitudes of experiences,yet some experiences, faces, names and relationships from the various halts in this long journey called life are preserved, ever fresh in memory ,like a snapshot,freezing that point of time and place.Some what like the woolly mammoth ,that was dug out from its frozen grave in the ice sheets of Siberia,with its fur and all organs intact , 50,000 years later!

I lost contact , when my father was transferred to another state within a couple of years . I often wondered as to what might have happened to him .And I never forgot the kinship.

In recent times my interest in Thai's perked up when I happened to watch programmes about Thailand on National Geographic and Discovery channels.

Their customs ,festivals and practises seem quite familiar and are very interesting.I am totally fascinated by the nonchalant attitude of a group of villagers towards the king cobra.This huge snake that has the venom to kill a full grown elephant in one single bite ,is treated as casually as one would a pet dog and is allowed to live along with them in total harmony!

The sight of Thai Buddhist monks rearing tigers in sprawling monasteries and handling full grown tigers as one would a kitten,stunned me . It was like a video of R.K.Narayans novel 'A tiger for Malgudi',a touching story, in which a yogi calms and befriends a tiger!

I find the great lengths they go, to organise a grand ,sumptuous buffet for monkeys,amusing but also unique and humane.

A recent TV show revealed that Assam was ruled by Ahom's since the 13 th century,for 600 hundred long years..They were originally from Thailand. They were enlightened rulers, very flexible, adaptable and mingled freely with the local population. in course of time they became Hindu's under the influence of a great Vaishnavite saint of 16 th century Srimanta Sankaradeva.

He was a scholar , socio- religious reformer and is credited with introducing and propagating Vaishnavism ,through debates,writing Bhakthi poems like Kirtana gosha and establishing Sattras or monastries.He preached 'Eka sarana '--surrender to one god --Krishna, to be worshipped by singing his several names like 'Hari', 'Rama', 'Narayana' and so on.

The instinctive kinship I felt with Thai's in my childhood has been strengthened and reinforced over the years.

An descendant of Ahom ruler's remarked in an interview to NGC ,that it was difficult to find a suitable royal match for his daughter , is pained to see her unmarried status and concluded it by posing a query ''Will a lion eat grass ,though it may be starving''?. Sounds familiar, yes?

Thank you.

Most of the visually handicapped graduates , I read to ,have been appointed as teachers . Hence their attendance at the association premises has thinned down considerably . And my services are not in as much demand as it was earlier .

How ever a few months back I did get a call from a visually challenged young man , just out his teens ,asking me to read, rather brusquely.

He is thin , a little bent and partially blind.I regularly read to him .I learnt that he belonged to the scheduled caste. He hails from a urban and educated background but with poor means. Whilst each and every VI persons who sought my help ,rural or urban had thanked me politely at the end of each session , he never did.

During all the reading cum teaching sessions I could detect an under current of antagonism.I couldn't peg it. There was a barrier between us and the atmosphere permeating through was ,hostile.This was disturbing , in one to one inter action . After a while it dawned upon me that may be,it was my caste status which was bothering him.

He is aintelligent young man ,has a good grasp of the subject , his English is good and is up to date in current affairs and has a sound knowledge in history. His knowledge surpasses many of those poor VI persons I have read and taught to so far.
But the intangible ,yet obvious sense of discomfort persisted and I decided to take matters in hand.
I asked him during a pause , in a break we often take from reading the dry sections to discuss cases relating to them
"Do you resent me because I am a Brahmin"?
He blurted out "Yes "! And then started hiccuping.

I told him that I was really ashamed of the shabby treatment meted out by my ancestors to his .At once his hiccups stopped and he intervened saying
'' M'am , Brahmin's were only adhering to the existing social rules, that the entire society was following. You are not alone". And continued much to my relief ''this abhorrent practise was in full steam only before the times of Raja RammohanRoy [ a good 250 years earlier] and has gradually waned there after."

None the less I had to say what I wanted to ,that which was rankling within me all these years and had to unload it ,for my own relief and said '"I am truly sorry".
Hoping to administer some salvo of sort to his searing, age old wounds I said' 'The sins of the fathers are visited upon the sons. My sons , nieces , nephews and several others were under severe strain and reeled under intolerable pressures , during exams as they have to secure an impossible 99% to get admission in medical colleges or 95% to get a free seat in engineering colleges,due to reservations[which is a atrocious 69 %, for BC's,OBC's,MBC'S etc in TN,over and above the fair percentage constitutionally mandated for the scheduled castes and tribes ] and the stiff, nerve wrecking competition for those few seats amongst the FC's.

And added " kindly do not harbor any more hatred and resentments in your heart . You have been given a chance of good life by our constitution and law makers.Make good use of it."

As I took leave , for the first time in all these months he said " Thank you M'am ".

Change of fortunes!

Then the third world wailed loudly clanking their [begging] bowls, berating the U.S for dumping its bumper crop into the ocean , instead of distributing it to the poor of the world .

Now the laments and censures are from within , at itself , the country which ranted most, then !

Accursed.

When I see heaps of garbage rising as mountains and rubbish strewn all around in the city and the defilement of public places and open spaces in nearly all towns I have visited , I have a wretched feeling that we are paying for the sins of our fathers.

The entire society was dependant on a class of people to do the dirty work for centuries. And we are still on the look out for someone else to clean up ,the mess we make ,for us.

I am reminded of an incident in the bar association room of a Moffusil court.
A young bumbling man a first time graduate , had become an advocate owing largely to his depressed caste status .

There are those who have it and those who do not irrespective of their backgrounds.This man could not grasp the nuances and the ponderous procedures of the legal profession ,easily.He was forever swabbing the sweat dripping down in rivulets down his swarthy, fleshy and good natured face as his brains creaked and cranked and this was a source of amusement to other young caste Hindu [ to use the current parlance] advocates who constantly ribbed him.

After one such ragging sessions ,as he left the bar room , laughing away genially the jibes ,one of his tormentors a young lean man who was always angry , said aloud , speaking out his mind loud and clear.

"Cha , How despicably we [ our ancestors ] have treated them" [ their ancestors].And stared out of the window moodily, ruminating over the past.

At this admission ,all conversations ,stopped abruptly and all those present ,seniors as well as juniors fell silent.

He was with the characteristic candour of youth voicing the shame all of us feel for the deeds of our ancestors and was also tendering apology on our behalf.

Chinana chiru killiye kanamma---Translation of Bharatiyar's poem in English.

Bharatiyar has mirrored to perfection ,the intensity of the tenderness, the depth of unasked love and pride and the fierce desire to shield one's child from miseries , of every parent in his poem,
Kannamma yen - khuzhandai .

The verses and my translation is as follows....

Chinnan chiru kiliye kannamma,
Selva kalanjiame,
Yennai kali theerthe, ulagil
yetrram puria vandhai!

Young and small poppet, Kannamma
my treasure trove!
You have come to dispel my misfortunes
And uplift me in this world!

Pillai kani amudhe-Kannammma
pesum por chithirame!
Alli annaaithidave-yenmunne,
aadi varum thene!

As sweet as a mixture of fruit and honey,
a beautiful portrait that has come to life!
You are so winsome and charming
pattering pot of honey!

Odi varugaiyele-kannammma
Ulam khulurudhadi!
Aadi thirithal kandal , unnai poi,
Aavi thzhuvathadi!

When you skip down to greet me, my raging mind cools down!
When I see you dancing and gamboling,
my spirit mingles in your joy!

Uch chi thanai mugurndhal-gharvam,
vongi vallaruthadi!
Mech chi unnai oorar pughazhindal,
meni silirikkuthadi!

When I inhale the innocence of your forehead,
it makes me feel ten times taller!
I bask in reflected glory and my body tingles,
when people around me praise you!

Kannathil muthamittal- ullamthan
kalveri kolluthadi!
Unnai thazhuvidalo - kannamma,
unnmatha magudhadi!

When you peck on my cheeksI feel elated,
like one intoxicated with wine!
I want to keep you forever ,
within my circle of affection!

Chatru un mugam sivandhal, manadhu,
chanchalam aguthadi.
Netri surunga kandal-yennakku,
nencham padhaikudhadi.

Even a little anger darkening your face ,
disturbs me,
When I see your brow creasing with worry,
it wrings my heart.

Unn kannil neer vazhindal -yen nenchil ,
udhiram kottuthadi,
Yen kannir pavaiyandro?kannamma,
yen ooir ninnadhandro?

When I see tears overflowing from your eyes ,
intolerable pain pours within me , searing my heart.
Oh, why these tears ? Are you not the light of my eyes?
Isn't my life at your disposal?

Sollu mazhalayele -kannamma
thunbangal theerthiduvai!
Mullai chirruipp ile-yenadhu
moorkaithai thavirithuviduvai!

On hearing your sweet gurgling lisps,
my sorrows and problems vanish ! Your gentle and innocent laughter,
disarm and soften me!

Inbha kadaigal yellam,unnaipol
yedugal solvathundo?
Anbhu tharauvadhile unnainer
aagum oor theivam unndo?

Is there any literature as
delicious as your, precocious prattle ?
In lavishing love upon me ,unbidden
could any merciful god rival you?

Marbhil annivatherke-unnai pol
vaira manigal unndo?
Seerpetru vazhvatharku-unnaipol
selvam piridhumunndo?

To decorate me is there a
more precious medal than you?
To lead a good and happy life
What more wealth I need ? only you !

Kancheepuram.

I was on my annual trip to Kancheepuram. As we came out of the strangulating traffic after an full hour and coursed out of the city limits on to the high ways in good speed a huge tri colour, the Indian flag ,jumped into view stately,solitary and fluttering silently, in a open space away from any habitation, adjacent to the highways ,leading to Sri Perembadur.
For a moment my breath was caught in my throat when I read the words that it was a memorial dedicated to out former prime minister.I re lived those awful moments of that day when we received the news of the bomb explosion that shook this very spot.

It is so poignant that many people ,who are loved and cherished do not enjoy the luxury to breathe their last peacefully amongst their kith and kin.He was born up north ,educated in top schools and colleges, surrounded by dignitaries, mingled with world leaders in glittering ceremonies, but his end came in this barren land, at the out skirts of a small town,deep down south.

Vyasa's words of consolation to Yudhishtra ,when he was inconsolably dejected at the gruesome death of Abhimanyu came to my mind,
'Death is inevitable. Either due to old age or disease or accident.No one born can escape it ,how so ever learned , good or wealthy he may be'.

A few kilometres on we passed a Vishnu temple and the house where Sri Ramanujar had lived a good 1000 years earlier . He was the greatest proponent of Sri vaishnavism ,a erudite scholar, a deep thinker and is ranked at par with Adi Shankara in dusting Hinduism of the cobwebs that had formed over it,down the centuries and in re kindling the dying embers and making it shine and spread in all its former glory.

The tall Gopurams hazily visible ,from a considerable distance , heralds the arrival of the temple town of Kancheepuram.There are more than 30 temples devoted either to Siva or Vishnu in this small town that has been bifurcated according to the two faiths.

This town with its several red tiled houses , so quaint and antique remind me of my grand father's ancestral house in Tirupathi .The narrow lanes , with people and devotees occupying every inch is surprisingly clean.

As I stepped into Varadharaja Perumal temple , in Vishnu Kanchi ,the characteristic yalli cum horse like sculptures of Krishna deva raya period greeted me.How so ever remote temples I have visited , Sri Krishna Deva Raya was there well before me 500 years back. His faith and munificence reverberates to this day in nearly all the1000's of temples that dot Tamil nadu.

To me Vardhraja Perumal koil ranks second in its sacredness, ambience, antiquity, and the constant flurry of religious activities like hommams, Veda parayanam and many other related
functions, next only to Srinivasa temple at Tirumala.

As I climbed on the steps of the outer hall, leading to the sanctum , saw beautiful ancient paintings on the side of the walls defaced , scrapped and lovers name scrawled all over them in chalk and in coal .The priest told me that some officials wanted to scrape away those paintings and re do them with oils and the ASI stepped in and stopped them in time several years back. Thank god!

But no work has been under taken to restore these unique paintings of vegetable and herbal
dyes, that are akin to those paintings restored in the circumbulatory passage of Brihadeeswara temple at Thanjavur, to their original state. They are simply vegetating away.

Vardharaja perumal 's darshan was good .There are no pushing crowds here and I could sit and meditate right in front of the deity peacefully as my forefather's would have and Desikan's sloka of 14 th century, the great scholar,poet andSri vaishnavite devotee came to my mind

Tvadeka rakshyasa
Mama tvameva karunakara
Na pravataya papani
Pravruttani nivartaya.

Oh lord Varadha,there is no one except you to protect me
kindly grant me the boon not to commit any more sins
Please also destroy all the sins
I have accumulated so far.

Warnings to time [death]!

I chanced upon this poem of the great poet Subhramani Bharathi.

Kaala! Unnai nan siru pull yenna madhikiren;

Yenran kaal aruge vada ! chatthre unnai midhi ikkiran-adda kala

Hey time [death]!I regard you as a small blade of grass ,

Come on , come near me ! Let me stamp you under foot.

Hey death!

Adho moolla yendru kadharia yannaiai kaakave-

Nindrun mudhalaikku nerinthadai marandhaya

Ketta moodane?Ada kaala

Have you forgotten your emissary ,the crocodile's fate ,

When the elephant it had gripped

Implored Adhi moolame?

You wicked fool! Hey death.

Unnai vidhi ikkiren'

Hari narayanaga unn munne' uddhi ikkiren,

Ada kaala!

Your fate is doomed ,

When I become one with Hari narayana , Hey death!

Arundhati.

I went up to the terrace at 7 pm.It was a beautiful star lit sky! Venus ,a bright jewel in the western sky was shining in creamy lustre between two stars!An incredible sight!,

On seeing these eternal points of light all my fears of life and death vanished . When I have the moon the stars , the sun ,the sky for company why should I feel lonely?I have millions of friends twinkling at me from the sky. They are always there.One among those celestial companions is my son .

Why should I worry that he is alone?Such worries attack me within the confines of four walls . Once out in the open seeing those stars ,the moon and the rare glimpse of birds flying high in a v shape with the moon light glinting on their wings,across the sky, my fears worries ,sorrows and cares slip away.
Which ever part of the earth I travel ,these friends will follow me!

The significance and symbolism of our ancient practise ,the bride groom pointing out the stars Dhruva ,Vasishta and Arundhati in the sapta rishi mandalam to his bride the very night of the marriage,hoping and praying for a stead fast married life ,and to maintain the purity and chastity of the new relationship life long ,and to be blessed with children, strikes me only now!`

In the flush of youth ,with its accompanying brashness and impatience I had denounced several Hindu practises and rituals as archaic .Now ,mellow and several knocks later I recognise the value of the farsighted Vedic practises .The timeless quality that has ensured its survival all through the ages.

As I look up at the Sapta rishi's [great bear constellation] ,they wink down at me and say 'Hello Sujata' we have seen a long line of your ancestors looking up at us ,at least once ,certainly ,at the time of their marriage,centuries after centuries.

What more assurance do I need?My ancient custom which is still followed will keep this invisible but firm continuity and sense of belonging alive!

May be one day my great,great grand child may look up at the SaptaRishi's ,Arundhati ,,Vasishta and Dhruva on getting married and spot me twinkling up there!