Capital performance.

The same enquiring look and the same winsome smile .Age has not dimmed the beauty nor has it robbed the yester year numero one of Hindi films, of her spirit and energy.

The spring in the  dance sequence 'Chadhuriam pesadhadi yen salagaikku padil solladi'of the Tamil film Vanchikotai valiban and in the 'Chado gayo papi bichua 'of the film Madhumati has not diminished though the yawning gap of years ,nay decades from then and now ought to have.

For all the movie fame sorrounding the dansuse there was not the slightest trace of filmy gestures in the dance recital i attended today in the ongoing, now,the world famous marghazhi [dec-jan] music and dance festival in Chennai,It was purely classical bharat natyam.

Except for the slightly stooping shoulders and sagging arms ,76 years rests very lightly on the tall and graceful frame of Smt Vaijayathimala/bali.

I held my breath and could sense others in the packed hall doing the same when she whirled around , bowed touching the ground and bent and sat in  postures many a younger woman dancers would have found daunting , hoping that she wouldn't trip. She didn't.Neither did she miss a step.Sterling stuff that only legends are made of.

When she rounded off her energetic ,yet graceful performance after an hour and a half . an performance that by itself warned the highly appreciative audience not to patronise her for her advanced years but only the performing artist in her ,pausing a few minutes at the mike to voice her regret ,with a catch in her voice at the untimely departure of that young woman at Delhi ,condemning the brutality of that barbaric act and requesting every one [fair sprinkling of youngsters amongst the largely greying ones]in there to join her in pressing for the severest of severe punishment  viz capital for ruthless rapists ,the entire hall rose to give her an standing ovation .For her performance, her undying spirit and her sensitivity and continuing involvement in matters other that the one that is so very obviously close to her heart, - dancing. 

Thirupaavai----10

Notru swargam pugukindra ammanai!
matramum thararo vasal thiravadhaar?

 Naatra thuzhaai mudi Narayanan nammaal, 
 potra paraitharum punniyanaal panduorunaal

Kootrathin vaiveezhindha kumbakarananum,

thotrum unnake perunthuyildhan thandhano?

Aatra anandhal udaiyai!Arungalame!
thetramai vandhu thirave lorembpavaai .

Meaning:

'O' leading lady.You are reeling in the heavenly experiences emanating from following the vows.
 You are neither opening the door nor are you replying.

 We are praising the pure one ,Narayana  who adorns his hair with aromatic tulsi .
He is sure to reward us for singing his sacred names.
But you are lost  in deep and heavy slumber and not paying any heed to our call !  [like bhagwatas immersed in their own world of spiritual experiences , immune to the distractions of the sensory world]

 Did Kumbhakarna cede his gigantic sleep to you for vanquishing him and sending him to the jaws of Yama?
 You are very lazy.'O' precious jewel! Wake up and open the door with a clear mind.


This 10 th hymn of thirupaavai of Andal's   co- incided with Vaikunta ekadesi celebrated on 23 rd of December 2012 .This is a masterly poetry characterised by wit and subtle humour.

Moving menaces.

My dear ppt's.
                          My outcry against intrusion [still continuing] into my privacy was stifled by branding me as delusional and mental.
Are all those people crying spontaneously against anonymous males insolent intrusion into a woman's privacy when travelling in Public be also labelled as delusional and silenced?Just asking a question.

To get a feel of this outrage that is simmering for decades ,even in other metros that has reached the tipping point send your young daughters ,sisters, wives as well as young woman MP's camouflaged as commoners just for a day in these public transports and to a crowded public place and place a KGB/double agent forcibly  and slyly [ if this operation is for my benefit why so much pains are taken to keep my immediate family in the dark?This itself makes the motive suspect] on top of each of those considered to be disturbed [there must be  at least one in each family ],  to  get my feel .

Thirupavai--3

The following hymn composed by Andal the woman vaishnavaite saint of 9 th cent AD is sung on the third day of Margahzhi month viz December to January.This gem out of the total of other equally precious gems of 3o hymns sung by her is specially noted for its poetic excellence in its description of nature and this nation's wealth.

Vongi ulagalanda uthaman perpadi nangul nam pavaikku satri neeradinaal,
Theengu indri nadellam thingall mummari peidhu vongu perun sen neloodu kayalkhalapa
poongkuvallai podhil porivandu kanndu pathengadhe pukkirundhu seerthu mulai patri
vaanga kudam niraikkum vallal perum pasukkal neengadha selvam niraindhe lorempavai

Meaning:  In pursuance of our penance if we sing the names of the self sacrificing superior one--Purushotaman ,who measured this entire world by stretching himself effortlessly,
Without fail , the entire country will be blessed with rains, thrice a month!
Fishes will play amidst towering and vast expanse of fields of ripened red grains,
And spotted bees ,after having their fill of heady nectar will drowse peacefully ,with eyes closed on soft and downy beds [fit for princes] of the petals of flowers blooming in profusion,
And the indestructible wealth of this land , the generous and gentle cows, will grow steadily in numbers , ready to be milked,
And the milking vessels will overflow , flooding the country.!

This poem is a testimony to this country's limitless wealth as well as Andal's inexhaustible literary wealth.

Moon rise.

The moon rose like a thin rind that glowed with the dull but sacred luminosity of the much polished silver vessels found in the dim interiors of the sanctum of temples over puffs of slate grey clouds that sailed gently in the huge  blue canvas that was stroked casually and yet masterfully at the horizon with pink and mauve ,by the spurts of rays sent out by the sun,  reluctantly setting ,with its stubborn signature for the day, invading my inner space with a bewitchment that chased the shadows cast within me, as  a wisp of smoke ,dissolved and carried away by the whispering winds.

Is it possible to conjure up this scintillating painting that no human ,how so ever rich and powerful could commission , whenever i slip into dark recesses ,and make me catch my breath once again at my own as well as others insignificance , around me, when elements and forces show the  face of real power .No , that beauty though occurring eternally is but momentary. It cannot be memorised or stored or retrieved. It has to be experienced ,once again all over again.

Curious to know.

An memsahib who is living in India for the past 30 years  or so ,on top of her m-i-ls' flat that ought to automatically qualify her according to her insight into Indians as a typical bahu has gently ,very gently chastised the exaggeration of sensitivities regarding religion of late by a section of Hindu society by referring to many incidents ,one such being the protests over the sari worn by a popular South Indian actress turned political activist  to a public function,that was either printed or woven with the images of 2 important avatars of Vishnu as well as other gods , 

My inquisitive poser ,as a person who has never set a foot out of Bharat , to this highly secular columnist full of catholicity  is,would the ordinary folks out there at her native country --Britain , digest and tolerate an evening gown embossed with the images of the saviour and the holy mother and saints,if it  is worn by an actress cum atheist cum  activist cum political commentator cum half Scottish  person like say Emma Thompson , to a public function?

PS. As a resident of Chennai for the past 30 years i have seen most of the box office hits of Tamill films  and in earlier years i found this actress's persona very pleasing. 

Photos of Lalbagh garden.

Bamboo grove

canopy

Lush Lawn

Pink blossoms

Low lying twin trees

Trees planted by Smt. Indira gandhi, Frontier Ghandhi and Queen Elizabeth11 at Lalbagh garden

The Asoka tree with the blue sign board at the front was   planted by Smt Indira Ghandhi in 1976  and the two tall pine trees at the back were planted by Khan Abdul Gaffar Khan and Queen Elizabeth 11 respectively in 1960's  either by themselves or in the memory of their visit to Bangalore .

Photo of a unique tree at Lalbagh

It is a man's world.

This piece is regarding the GO that confers the right to a share in the the family pension along with the legally wedded wife and children of a man ,on the 'other' woman and children of that person.
Hindu Marriages Act declares the marriage of a person who has a spouse living at the time of marriage as bigamous and  that person is  punishable with a jail term of not less than 2 years.

This go is in total contravention of the said section  and also shows the way to circumvent it and enjoy the spoils at the cost of betrayal , callously to the legally wedded wife  and indirectly affixes its stamp of approval on extra marital relationships  viz bigamy , polygamy that was sought to be eradicated from Hindu society by the enactment of the HM act.

According to me the legally wedded wife who has entrusted herself and her children's future with a deep faith and conviction in the institution of marriage as it subsits now should be the sole recipient of the family pension.
Why should she suffer twice?First by the betrayal of her errant husband and then by the State seconding this irresponsible act by rushing into support the other woman who has stolen [ even if she had been deceived that is her look out , there are other remedies] the company, affection and responsibilities of her spouse towards her and rewards  her [the partner out of wedlock] for doing so with guile or otherwise ,by splitting the monetary entitlements as well !Absolutely unfair.
There is already a provision in the said act that confers property rights on illegitimate children , which though a humane provision, is by itself an erosion of the sanctity of marriage ,Sharing of family pension is another concrete step in this direction, that of making a mockery of monogamous marriages.

How very assuring this GO would be to the deviant ,errant and philandering  man! He has the cake and also gets to eat it! After all it is a man's world.

He can close his eyes with complete peace in his heart without the tiniest prick to his conscience , absolved of all his sins since  the state will step in, so very compassionately to bear the cross for him.

Tirunedunthandagam day. at Sri Ranganathar Temple at Srirangam

Thiru nedundhandagam is the compilation of 30 verses composed by the  famous Sri Vaishnavaite saint Thiru Mangai Azwar in 10 th cent AD.

The first 10 verses describe the five forms of Bhagwan---Para, Vyuha, Vibhava or avatara,Antaryami and Archa or deity in a splendid manner  with special emphasis on Archa form that is deities  consecrated in temples like in Kovalur, Kanchipuram ,Sri Rangam, Tirupati and so on.

The next 20 verses express the Azhwars utter obedience or Sesvatam to Bhagwan.
At the end he entreats Bhagwan to protect [Rakshatvam] his soul .

All the 30 hymns are recited  and enacted at front of Utsavar of Sri Ranganathar at Sri Rangam by a sect known as Arayars  during Adyana utsvam  every year .This is believed to be at the behest of Lord Ranganathar himself.

This festival with the recitation of nedunthandagam falls today viz--13 th December 2012.
By reciting all the 30 hymns ,today one is assured of the blessings of Ranganathar .

His final entreaty of this composition runs thus ---"Minnum mazhai thavazhum meghavanna vinnavar tam perumane arulay."

Meaning: O bhagwan ,your colour is like  those sprawling clouds  that bear sparkling rains .You are also the leader of Nitya suri's. Kindly bless me.

Courtsey:Narsimha priya

Flux of time.

This weary time tested woman  with dried twigs gathered from this pretty park would have once been a blooming young woman and might  have  flitted with a bouquet of sweet scented flowers , adding to the  allure of this garden.

Place.Lalbagh park-Bangalore.

Cremation.

An well known authoress and columnist  , bollywood specialist,has very recently opined in a journal that it was scandalous that women are still prevented or even worse that they themselves choose not to witness the cremation of their near and dear ones.

At the pain of being branded retrograde and conservative i am compelled to state my view  that what our Shastra's have laid down in this matter is very relevant and need to be observed , that is of a woman at the eventuality of a death in her house should stop at her doorway itself and not proceed to the cremation grounds , more so if she is menstruating when her hormones that define femininity with the characteristics of shyness and timidity is at its peak.

Witnessing the cremation of a very close relative or to the one who is very attached to , is a horrendous sight.
A mud bowl of burning cinders , lit symbolically by the person performing the final ritual ,is placed on the chest of the body of the loved and cherished person resting in the dim interiors of an altar  and then  transferred and pushed into the slanting plank of the nearby furnace,head first.

One has to be really strong emotionally or absolutely hard hearted to come out unscathed from such an harsh sight.This dreadful scene is bound to haunt even the strongest of men for days to come.

However cremating by heaping logs of wood , looks less brutal , more humane and bearable.

Many of the rules laid down by our ancients are the sum total of keen observation of human nature and its frailties coupled with personal experiences , spanning over several generations.
It is a wise person who respects the widely followed practises emanating from shastras and thus escape the nightmares that are in store for those who are either ignorant or adamant in overlooking or overturning them .

Ask me an, confirmed feminist and i'll tell you that i learnt this in the hard way.

Thoopaki---Gun ---Film review.

Had a lot of time to burn ,hence landed on a movie hall and watched a Tamil film thoopaki..

It started well and then immediately lost track in a series of songs and dance sequences that were frivolous and certainly avoidable distractions from the main theme of the story that revolved around' sleeper cells ' but soon after picked up speed and was gripping.

The director cum story writer cum script writer cum etc etc has done a great job in explaining and clearly illustrating as to what is actually meant by the phrase' sleeper cells' that we often hear about on TV or read in newspapers without truly comprehending its deadly import.

Quite an educative film.

Photo's of Asoka tree.

 The Asoka tree.

The orange coloured flowers of Asoka tree.

Every one is familiar with 'Asoka vanam ' the garden at Lanka where Sita spent her days of abduction  by Ravana.But does one know how a Asoka tree looks like? I didn't and got to know only on my recent visit to the famous park at Bangalore --Lalbagh ,thanks to the blue name plate near the tree.

Photo of statue of Wodeyar --Mysore Maharaja in 1906 at Lal bagh park at Bangalore

Photos of the statue of Sri M.Ananthsayanam Aiyengar at Tirupati.

Suggestions to TTD.

Kindly install an escalator near the sanctum carrying one person at a time so that each devotee gets his or her fill of Lord Srinivasa and does not feel frustrated or cheated with a mere  trifling glance or even denied of that quick and hasty glimpse after undertaking long and arduous journey's and then come out with a feeling of seething rage of being insulted by the securities ,pushing and shoving at will, when one is seeking solace and peace from Srinivasa at his sacred sanctum.
One has to change with times .The old notion that purity and sanctity would be lost should be suitably shelved, in keeping pace with current reality ,viz that of population explosion and the massive surge of devotees. 
Hoping for a peaceful and fulfilling darshan ,next time.

Photos of Srinivasa temple at tirumala

 Way to papanasm falls from the temple at tirumala.

 Temple visible at the back

 Ananthaazhwars brindavan .

A distant view of Srinivasar temple at night

Vimanum of Srinivasar temple

Photo of Srinivasar temple's pushkarni at Tirumala.

Photos of sahasara deepa alankara pooja at Tirumala.Temple

Srinivaasr and His consort Sri Devi and Bhu Devi are being rocked on  a swing

last laugh.

Hey ppt's you rattled me literally to the bones on my way back in volvo bus from Bangalore with kgb/charli and co's cheap hallucinatory tricks and had your laugh at my plight.Now it is my time to laugh on seeing you all rattled by the black paper culled out of govt archives by Aap and flourished by ak and co..

Photo's of Ananthaazhwar's garden and pond at Tirumala.

 The garden laid down by Ananth aazhwar

 Entrance to the garden with the legend painted on its walls.

 The pond dug by Ananthaazhwar  to water the garden.

The maghizhampoo [small one under the banyan tree]said to be grafted from the original tree planted by the Aazhwar in 11th centAD. .Lord Venkateswara is said to visit this tree every day in recognition of the selfless devotion and services rendered by Anatha azhwar.

Sanjeev aazhwar's legacy.

Sanjeev and swetha bhatt =Sanjeev aazhwar and his wife for Sri Congress acharya,the greatest proponent of Sri secularism in Modern India.

The visisht [unique] philosophy adapted in attempts to win over opponents is in essence quite simple--use or reverse what ever appeals or tickles  in my write ups.

Anantha aazhwar's legacy.

This time around on a visit to Tirumala i was determined to see the pond dug by Ananatha aazhwar in the 11 cent AD at the request of his acharya Sri Ramanuja [the greatest acharya of Sri Vaishnavism]to supply water within hands reach of Srinivasar's temple at Tirumala ,to maintain a garden of flowers and herbs so as to offer them to the Lord every day for decoration as well as in the pooja's performed therein.

The tree jasmines lining the ghat roads leading to the temple were in full bloom.The flowers hung in delicate bunches of pearly white completely hiding the green boughs and leaves with their ethereal sheen.The sacred hills were filled with their sweet fragrance .

The garden and the pond is quite near the temple and is quite quiet.It seemed , very well tended at first look from behind the bars of a locked iron gate at the entrance.

But for an old man performing sandya vandanam near the pond there wasn't a single soul around.
The sun had set scorching the sky at the horizon with a band of fiery red that could be mistaken as a blaze of some distant forest fire.Meanwhile a silvery moon , nearly full ,had  risen quietly without its rise being heralded by birds unlike its radiant counterpart in the  morning ,spreading its cool rays and dousing the streak of red fire in the darkening sky.A gentle breeze rustled the silent trees .An atmosphere as sylvan and peaceful as it would have been nearly a thousand years earlier ,when the devoted disciple of Ramanujar undertook very bravely and solely the onerous task of renovating the crumbling prakaras of this remote temple [then] and dug the pond all by himself with his bare hands and a crowbar and laid the garden and spent his entire life in service of Sri nivasa ,leading a  simple liife in a nearby cottage where his descendants 28 th in line , greeted us from his house as he directed us to enter the garden from another entrance.
 .
He explained that when Anantha aazhwar first came here, the place was thickly forested with fierce animals like tigers etc  that roamed freely and that there were no water bodies nearby.
It was purely the immense dedication , will power and determination of Anantha aazhwar as well as the blessings of Balaji  that made him bear all the travails in clearing the overgrowth and ensure a constant supply of tulsi, jasmine , and other flowers to his beloved deity.

An pioneer who made it easier for succeeding generations of priests to deck the lord with flowers and in worship.
An maghizham poo tree right in the middle of the garden is said to be off shoot of the original tree planted by him .This is also the place where he shed his mortal coils.and it is believed that Sri Venkateswara in recognition of his selfless service visits the tree unfailingly every day.The processional deity of Srinivasar/Venkateswara  visit and halt ,twice a year in this very spot ,in remembrance and out of gratitude.

As we walked back to our lodgings ,came upon the fountains spraying water on granite Shanku and Chakram and crowds of devotees milling around noisily .My thoughts flew 1000years back  to the time Anantha aazhwar laboured all by himself in a inhospitable place with hardly any human beings around .Would he have ever imagined that this remote dark and silent [except for the menacing calls of animals and alarm cry birds] pilgrimage spot would be flooded with high mast lights burning fiercely at every corner turning the night into day and water so sparse then, would be emptying in gallons  from fountains and uncountable crowd of people would displace all those wild denizens with many of then munching bhelpuri as they watched the water, music and light show?
His lonely toil has been forgotten and blown away by the winds of time.In the fast paced life that we live in   he doesn't exist to the masses  nor would they care to know .It is only a few, who look back in gratitude at one man's solitary endeavour that made all this possible.

Photo:The garden laid down by Anantha aazhwar.The pond is right at the back.The small tree under the banyan tree at the centre is believed to have been grafted from the  original maghizhum poo tree planted y Anantha aazhwar.

Post script.Ananthaazhwar took only his wife's  help who obliged whole heartedly though she was in advanced stage of pregnancy .Pitying her plight Lord Venkateswara assumed the form of a young boy  and helped  her carry  the mud scraped out whilst aazwar dug out that pond .On seeing this the aazhwar threw  a stone that hurt the boy in his chin and chased him away when that lad insisted on helping his wife, since the aazhwar didnot want his 'punya' to be shared with an unknown person.Srinivasar's moorthy started bleeding in the chin that very instant and could staunched only when Anantha aazhwar sought forgivness and applied camphor on the dent .The camphor is  applied till date.

Date of travel and this write up --26.11.12

The hanging ....from my diary....21.11.12.

Kasab was hanged today at 7.30.AM, quietly!Sri Pranab took the decision on 8 th nov according to ndtv.
Something made me check my writings and my diary .On 7th Nov  i had written in my diary that youngsters are still furious at the carnage in Bombay on 2008.

Did my observation hasten Congress to decide swiftly on the matter of Kasab's execution?

Oh i feel sick. My stomach is churning and i want to vomit.

Later in the evening ,on going through articles in Niti on the net regarding the sequence of dates leading to this final end i felt relieved to know that the decision was taken on 5 th Nov .But my relief was short lived .On checking my blogs found a piece written in all innocence about 'religion' on 2nd Nov that can also be suggestive for those scrutinising it for nefarious political gains .Nausea took over me once again.

Have to console myself that i didn't  decide only observed.It could be  co incidental or could also be a trigger to take a decision on this 'sticky issue' by the  Congress  from its[the minority loving party]point of view.

I wish it was   only purely co incidental .May be in my teens my blood would have boiled at the outrage to our country as it does in my son's and in his age group ,but with so many decades behind me and my own tragedy my intense emotions have mellowed.

I feel much better after writing this though i know it is being scanned skimmed and scooted by shameless politico's and journo's.

More importantly what is more scary and nauseating is that my observations , if at all was a trigger to act, has so much political weight,that ruthless politicians coolly capitalise!

Dirty Kasab has shed a lot of blood but i do not want his blood or any one's blood on my hands.This is what is troubling me.

License to write. [From my diary 18.11.12]

At last escape from that cell with kgb and co breathing down my back 24 hours a day .I am at Bangalore and am writing this from the roof of the tiny serviced apartments we are lodged in  so as to visit my ailing mother who has taken a turn for worse .

There  now, I  had thought with optimism unknown to my nature that i had successfully shrugged off  my surveyors in this bjp ruled state .Wrong again.A young man has come up and is fiddling with the generator 's cover and made a point to meet my eyes.

What is ppt's problem?I have made it clear that i am not joining politics yet they are relentless in their pursuit.Is my life under threat? I doubt it . Al this exaggerated conferring of attention is definitely to create an illusion of making me feel wanted and important so that i may not blurt out uncomfortable truths in my blogs which may be viewed as extreme or unpalatable by some.
.
So there i was successfully diverted yet again from what i wanted to write.[by the way this piece has already been sucked  and delivered by the ever alert ones later in the day] that i started to dream up the various sentences i would love to impose on kgb and his ppt boss if i had the power to do so .A few samples follow...

I would exile them to Dakshina Gagotri  [Antarctica] and set them afloat on a glacier in the coldest month for a minimum 2 year period whilst i warm my toes in my hearth .
Or
Post them in the hottest and most primitive country in equatorial Africa with swarm of flies and mosquitoes for company,
Or
Let them loose with a weeks ration in the thick and swampy rain forests of South America in the cosy company of anacondas.,
Or
Drop them in a uninhabited atoll right in the middle of south pacific ocean ,1000's of miles away from civilisation with some ration and a crude craft.
Or
Drop them in the area inhabited by the fierce Senthilese tribes in the Andaman islands

OK back to what i wanted to write.

The whole city of Bangalore is naturally air conditioned. .But the streets are dirty and stinking.In fact Chennai is comparatively cleaner especially in main roads and in posh ares.though the population and number of vehicles is higher.
The place where i was put up is supposed to be posh .Gosh if this is the state of  cleanliness of posh localities then what about others?Similarily the stretch of NH from Chennai upto Hosur the border of Tamilnadu flowed flawlessly and thenceforward into Karnataka it wasnt upto that high bench mark, set.A sign board cautioning against overspeeding on the highways caught my eyes.It ran thus--'Safety gears are placed between ears'.The state of city roads in both cities ,however vie with one another in proudly exhibiting the profusion of potholes and mini craters.Despite this lacuna,over all ,Chennai beats Bangalore hands down any day any time except that it cannot boast of that kullu kullu --cool weather all days through out the year.

This place is full of students as there are several colleges in the vicinity.Unlike Madras they move in groups that has a fair mixture of both genders.Their attire is uniform like viz dark jeans and darker shirts.Their favourite haunts the nearby malls.I got to know when we had to walk through a mall to cross the one way way route which the auto driver refused to make a detour to ferry us across.

The huge and glitzy mall was swarming with teenagers and college students. Seeing so many youngsters congregating at a spot scared me and made me want to bolt away from the nearest entrance  or simply disappear into thin air.,since i am used to seeing only greying middle agers generally in sarees or  in drab pant shirts in my favourite watering spots like the park, temple or even the beach.This massive surge of youth was a cultural shock and a yawning  generational gap to me  [ though i have been there   and done most of  it all but that seems like aeons before in another world ]and i felt the urgent need to run for cover.Some what like Nagesh did[acted] in a film as a country bumpkins bewilderment at his first brush with  the fast , fashionable   crowd in modern city.

In Chennai groups of youngsters consist only of either boys,, mostly young men roaring on macho motor bikes or only girls  and.the mixed bag  with a heavy sprinkling of north easterners, Africans that is so common in here is a rarity there .And the common watering spot --Marina or Elliot's beach  at Chennai has a mixed fare,of families,  children, youth and old .But in here the mall was totally monopolised by the young brigade who were window shopping, eating, ambling around or sitting in the inner pavement walls in groups  ribbing each other and a fair share of twosomes who looked enquiringly into each others eyes coyly whilst they licked cone ice creams  lost in their own secret world, publicly.

Hymns from Nammazhwar's Thiruvaimozhi

Goda devi and Bhadra sai perumal at Sri valli puthur temple

Rajagopaala Perumal at Rajagopala temple at mannargudi

வைகளும் வெண்ணெய் கை கலந்து உந்தன் பொய்கலாவது என் மெய்கலந்தானே "

** Vaigalum vennai, kai kalandhu undaan, poikala vadhu yen , meikalandhane'...........[1.10 .8]

Meaning:         My Bhagwan who ate butter daily, stuffing it in his mouth with both hands  has taken complete and real possesion of this illusory body of mine.

நெஞ்சமே !நல்லை நல்லை உன்னை பெற்றால் என்செய்யோம் இனி குறையினும் மைந்தனை மலராள் மணவாளனை துஞ்சும் போதும் விடத்து தொடர்கண்டாய் ----
**Nenchame'! Nallai, nallai unnai petral yenseivom ini yenna kurraivinam maindanai malaraal manavalanai thunjam podhum vidadhu thodarkandai.............................[1.10 .8]

Meaning:   'O' heart! If one has a very good heart its support is sufficient to achieve anything.
Thereafter what would we be lacking in?
When i depart O heart cling on firmly to the eternally youthful Bhagwan who is the husband of the goddess residing in a lotus.

**Yennperukku annalathu ,von porull yeeru illa vanpugazh Naranan, thin kazhal sere"................[1.10.2]

Meaning:     Countless are lives. Wisdom resides within each such life which are all indestructible and whose ultimate striving is to reach the sacred feet of Narayana!




                  

Cheap thrills KGB gets at my expense.

1. Fanning the hypertension of mister by his base basic instinct ,reckless tactics to such a level that he bloated up grotesquely and suffered terrific restlessness ,making me burst out in tears . The very moment kgb was waiting for in his long tapasya at the sparse attic in a neighbourhood alien to his life style.

2. Seeing to that the holidays spent by my son in here is filled with conflicts and arguments , with me of course and making me shed a few tears of helplessness..But couldn't succeed in putting a permanent wedge between us ,since our ties are not superficial.

3. Pinching my thin purse , the only bulge in it was my flat keys , at the park on a dark and rainy evening and watch me from the warmth of his cubby hole rubbing his hands in ghoulish glee with the help of a rusty over sized antenna installed at the terrace where i weathered a raging monsoon storm for 3 hours till mister came back home with the other key.

4.Seeing to that in every shop i visit the salepersons are nasty and rude and treat me like a social out caste. . 

5.When i bravely declare , loud and clear that this is my house and i  will live in it as i please , to retaliate with the typical kgb tactics of switching on the sound of drilling machine all of a sudden in full volume making me and mister nearly jump nearly out of our skins and then pretend innocence  by widening his owlish eyes  to the size of saucers when confronted about the never ending repair of the tiles on his floor [ tap taping right above my ceiling] which he had officially announced to me in April and then laughing at his own audacity and the gall to make me also laugh .The limit!

6.Spraying pan juice on my  favourite shining green silk saree that i had hung out on the clothes line to air it in preparation of a wedding ahead , that saw me red and nearly made me march up to his liar with a bottle of ketchup and splash it on his precious row of expensive shirts..

7, Attending a sauna and facial to get that radiant look whenever he feels he has scored a victory over me in whatever he was mandated to do so and make his appearance in a theatrical manner gloating  unashamedly over his success.

8.Getting thrills  at their finesse of digging up that sordid little old man whom i had mentioned as the only other fan of mine in a comic piece in asdf -- catch 22 and making him walk before me in the park giving me lewd looks in passing ,[which i found so very amusing that i had a difficult time controlling, laughing outright] for several days at the height of the mega shady endeavours to drive me into the supposedly safe arms of  a political party.

9. Currently getting huge fun out  of seeing me writhe and scratch and scratch myself to the point of depriving me the leisure to read books, mags or watch TV or passersby, by spot gazing /glaring.

10.The thrill of seeing his/ their dirty low down exploits on this public blog thus elevating the much maligned and totally ignored secret agents to James bond level.
Who cares to write about their schemes, stealth, tricks, ruthlessness , alertness and perseverance excepting for me?

Finally the cheap thrill of illegally subjecting to all this harassment without giving a valid reason  for doing so yet smartly escaping the consequences and keeping me in the dark and wasting my time trying to guess his true identity and in overcoming the hurdles constantly thrown at me as well as  the identity of his vile power drunk bosses and the workings of their mean minds.

PS. 'Oligarchs' ,if you persist in deploying KGB on me, AK is sure to come blazing one of these days. Retreat   honourably  whilst you  still can.
 

A lot in a name.

Whenever some one refers to India as Hindustan it irritates me and leaves a bitter aftertaste that drags on till other events in the normal course of the day submerge and dissolve this irritant.

This nomenclature ascribed to our country gives  an communal colouring  to the people inhabiting this ancient and sacred land .It compartmentalises the long and glorious history and traditions of this country into two rigid halves ,one,  that of before and the other, after the series of  invasions in medieval India.

And when this name emanates from persons in position of leadership it appears to be derogatory of the religion and way of life practised by a vast section of this country betraying a deep complex either of superiority or inferiority  as per the political shade of thinking ,may be.

The former emanates from a sense of denial as it is and harking back to political glory that in reality is no longer its, and the pathetic as well as calculated attempts to assuage those in minority that Hindu'stan' , Paki'stan' , and Afghani'stan' are all one and the same. All siblings squabbling over ancestral property!

To the latter shade , it is the outcome of the repeated brainwashing  of the series of beatings taken from invaders who were with a aggressive view of life and unquestionable faith in the efficacy of that view that made them treat others that is to say here at Bharatvarsh , not subscibing to such strong and stubborn beliefs, as inherently weak and  therefore disgusting  ,.The long rule of such thinking spanning several centuries till Independence a few decades back ,has created this collective Stockholm syndrome.

Thankfully the current generation of youth do not carry this depressing baggage of those dark ages.

Bharat is what I'd like to call India. And when i savour that name i see the brilliance of the light of a thousand suns flooding and smell the gentle fragrance of sandal paste and see hundreds of caparisoned elephants shaking their heads playfully,and  experience the satisfying feeling of wholesomeness on  seeing grains falling down as  gushing glittering pieces of gold from the sieve of farmers and feel the spontaneous energy of flocks of birds as they take of on a flight and circle overhead and am virtually transported to the sanctum of a ancient temple that is suffused with the delicate garland of pearly light of oil lamps and inhale to every fibre of my being the aroma of  ground  and powdered turmeric and kumkum.

What is religion?

In the ultimate analysis religion is nothing but a comforting concept dealing with the most unacceptable and indigestible truth that confronts each and every being ,that is thinking human beings, that of 'death.'

That deadly state that no one thinks of and is wilfully blind to unless it nears one's near and dears or oneself.
The most defining concept  for all of us is the sense of' I' ,'Me' and 'Myself'.And the most troubling question that confronts one is "How can I be extinguished ? It cannot be and should not be .Iam sure to exist in some form or the other.I cannot be wiped off the slate  .It is just impossible."

It is precisely at this most vulnerable juncture that religion comes in with its explanations as to what happens after death .The most comforting explanation given about the state of person after death renders that religion more popular than others.

Every human being is confronted with that invisible and insurmountable yet rock hard wall that very effectively and to some frustratingly ,blocks intelligence and intellect from penetrating it , and to have even a tiniest glimpse or the minutest grasp of that which ,one is very sure ,lies beyond.

So all religions are based on 'Fear'.The basic foundation of all religions is raised on this fear of the unknown and  is developed over man's ego.Advise is tendered as per perceptions, experience, observations and inspirations as to how best one can deal with this bitter, bitter truth , that of one's erasure ,one day or the other.

Abstract and concrete.

Th'I'r'D' mubharak for kubharak manualists for successfully brainwashing my own kin against me however Vijay dashami goes to my internet kin who has uncapped Bahu't hot gas from KGB that has countered and vapourised the heavy deluge let loose by Nilam.

The former, preplanned meticulously with ruthless selfishness in unison and the latter spontaneous outcome of reverberations of the pain of insurmountable betrayal .

meanings:

Kubarak manual ---Deals with no touch torture.

Vijay---victory.

Nilam--cyclonic storm

KGB.Krishna Godavari Basin as well as the notorious espionage agency used for furtherance of dictatorial\oligarchic rule by sowing deep distrust even within kith and kin.

Bahu--Punjabi Sufi saint..

Nam aazhwar.

Srinivasar with His consorts Sri Devi and Bhu Devi at  Srinivasar Temple at Tirumalai

In Sri Vaishnava's long list of Gurparamparai Namaazhwar has the pride of being first amongst the mortals and fourth only to Narayana who is the first acharya and then his consort Sri or Mahalakshmi followed by Visvaksena.
Namaazhwar the foremost Sri Vaishnavaite saint who is said to have clearly enunciated the Sri Vaishnavaite philosophy through his innumerable hymns in Tamil, was born in  agricultural caste in 8 th cent AD in Tamilnadu.

His mind was attuned to the creator since his birth and he spent his short life of 32 years wholly in deep meditation and in pouring forth 1000's of hymns in praise of Narayana as well as condensing the meanings enshrined in the 4 vedas , in poetic Tamil.

Of his4 literary and poetic works viz--Thiruvrittam, Thiru vasiriyam, Periya thiruvandhadhi and thiru Vaimozhi, it is 'Thiruvaimozhi' that is considered as the the elucidation of Sama veda in all its entirety and and is regarded as TamilVedam.
The following are two of his hymns from Thiruvaimozhi.


** Ullan yennil ullan avan  uruvaruvam ivvvuruvugal ullan allan yenil avan aruvam ivv uruvugal ullan yena illan yena .ivvai kunnam udaimaiyil ullan irru thagaimaiyodu ozhivu illan parande'...........(1.10......2683)

Meaning:  If one believes that He is there ! Then everything around  is his body!
                If one dis believes and thinks No he is not there! Then it means that all have merged with him!
     He does exist either in concrete form or in the abstract form and is all pervading!

**அவரவர் தம தம தரிவாரி வகை வகை அவர் அவர் இறையார் யென அடி அடைவார்கள் ,
அவர் அவர் இறைவர் குறைவிலார் அவரவர்  விதி வாழி அடைவனின்றானே *
Awaravar  thama thama tharivari vagai vagai avar avar irraiyvar yena adi adaivargal,
Awaravar irraiyavar kuraivillaar , awaravar vidhi vazhi adaiyaninrane'r.

Meaning:  All the people of this world acting under the dominance of 3 types of nature  --[satvic, rajas and thamas].worship and reach the feet of their choice of god,
The gods thus favoured are without any fault or lacking in divinity,
since they are all ultimately worshipping Narayana along with Lakshmi, who is residing within all the gods thus worshipped!            

                       

ஆழவார் திருவடிகளே சரணம்                                                                                             ..................(.2679)

Speck.

I skirted around a group of youngsters to have a closer look at  the old woman  curled up in the walk way ,as it had grown dark, more quickly than is the normal owing to  clouds massed heavily over the skies that opens at intervals to let out its needle like sharp , the acupuncture variety, that is  at the same time soothing and  piercing , shafts, on and of f in heavy instalments , that had me as well as several others to crowd for shelter under the only cover available , in the park, a plastic dome.over a strip of the footpath.

The woman pulled her cheap cotton saree to cover her exposed toes that made me wonder at my fate at her age.Would i be ignored and abandoned as most old people are like this in a foot path or would it be in a comfortable bed?The latter, if at all ,is most likely .,what  ever be the nature of the surface to hold a tired and spent body , the abandonment is the same.One being public and the other private.

It was precisely at this moment my  purse must have been picked.I didn't know it then , only after i trudged down the slippery roads warding off blinding headlights of vehicles and successfully reached my flat and.
fishing into the bag for the keys to be let in i came a cropper [ to use youngsters slang]

The 3 hours, till mister  who doesn't carry a mobile came home with his key had to be whiled away . Neighbours are plenty,but their houses are as cramped as mine,so preferred the open spaces of the terrace.

So long, since i was with the elements for so long!The huge clouds came together and parted away on and off exposing bright stars and constelllations and then eclipsing them in heavy deluge.

What a speck i am and this speck is being picked upon by other specks to keep this heck of a speck in check!

My resentment gradually  turned to contentment .My discomfiture was giving cheap thrills to some one, let it be.In the process i got  better of the bargain ,to view the majesty of the monsoons in all its raw splendour out there in the open. 

Only 5 Rs.

The tip of the leaves ,that were drooping  with water that was shed by the silent rain of the night before ,shone  in the morning watery sun like as if they were plated with silver by an philanthropic jeweller who had worked all night ,through.
The arch formed by trees on both sides of the street as they met and rustled nudged to do so by  the gentle breeze whispered their greetings to one another and created an intricate lofty dome ,studded with emeralds of all shades intersped with those tiny sparkling  silver tassels .

The early morning sun and the fluffy white clouds in their light blue frame was reflected on a puddle on the street which was not only bordered by lily white long stemmed fragrant flowers but also a few floating in it ,having been displaced from their rightful residence ,the treetops, by the overnight guest.

I paused a moment admiring this fleeting scene and felt cheated of being devoid of my camera to record it.The best shots i often come across are those when i do not have a camera in my hand.

If i did have it and also took a snap would National geographic publish it in the photo of the day? A photo not of those gorgeous uninhabited  volcanic landscapes of Iceland or the greenish northern lights of the wild white arctic but of  only the eternal  regular visitor , the sun  that to not reflected from the unbelievably placid  picture card perfect lakes in unsullied environments  way up North but from a ordinary mundane street , that to in a dirty third world country?

Why hang them even before trying , so my thoughts went when a schoolboy peddled on with a even younger boy seated on his cycles pillion, on the way to the corporation school.
The young boy, fresh and ready for the day ahead with chandan and kumkum carefully circled on his forehead , was advising the older one.
" It is only 5 rs to tighten this creaking chain of the cycle .Why don't you do it?"

The adjective "only ' of the conversation heard in, snatches jarred on my musings.Wasn't it 5 ps in my school days and i was never scornful of the value of so small a denomination. And wasn't that boy from the nearby slums to be too disdainful of Rs 5?

They passed by and so has time.

I am still stuck in the socio economic values and aspirations  of  my younger days ,that of glorification of poverty and excessive emphasis on the virtues of abstinence and self sacrifice to the extent of total self effacement. . That kid showed me that.

Quarantine----Thought for the day.by Neitzsche.

Democratic institutions are quarantine arrangements to combat that ancient pestilence, lust for tyranny, as such they are very useful and very boring.

Thought for the day.

It is usually said that such times of corruption ,are gentler and that cruelty declines drastically, compared within the old stronger age, which was more given to faith.
All i concede now is that cruelty now becomes more refined and that its older forms henceforth offend the new taste, but the art of wounding and torturing others with words and looks reaches its supreme development.
The men of corruption are witty and slanderous, they know of types of murder that require neither daggers nor assault.They know that whatever is said well, is believed.
                                                                        
                                                                                    By Neitzsche ----Philosopher.

Face to face.

Should i or shouldn't i write my diary?11.10 12  Any how ppt's will read it just as i writing it , but write i must.so here goes.
R had another turn and took me along to meet a  specialist who asked him to go easy on breezing through the streets in his scooter since his heart is not up to it.and gave pessimistic forebodings, though he declared that medicines would suffice for now.
As we walked back to meet the general doc after having tiffin in a restaurant right in middle of pondy bazaar whose young accountant's nervousness alerted me to presence of Intel's ,i asked him whether the chap on top is not what he appears to be . He said no.and added that if Intel's --cbi were really after me the fear of this unwarranted intrusion did not show on my face or reflect on my activities , though it has whitened my hair--which he didn't add.

On persistence  he said that if he did turn out to be one he would go file for  criminal offence.
I laughed and said" It is only state that prosecutes a citizen and not vice versa."My mobile must have relayed our talks.But what he actually meant was that if there were sufficient proof that our neighbours were wilfully trespassing into our private space, into our house, he wouldn't hesitate to file a criminal complaint.

Felt generally depressed and R mooning around didn't help.

Read articles  of Asha Bhonsle's daughter Varsha who killed herself few days back, She has the same views as mine but has supported it with extraordinary facts and figures and proves her inherited creative ability as well as the over loading of her brain that  seems to have been in vain and fruitless and could have been a one of the source of deep disappointment,[ i am only speculating] since it looks like as if that there was  no worthwile recognition for such stupendous efforts and boldness from where it should be naturally coming  from,  the political right . Sandeep[,blogger?] had put it in his blog.On further reading of his blogs found out that he is not RSS .Net is a confusing world.

Evening walked up feeling relaxed since not a soul was around in nearby terraces .Heaved a sigh of relief , So the monster had left'.As if divining my wishful thinking an intrusion came up in the form of my plump neighbour who came up panting either due to exertion or in sheer nervousness , of course sent by Charlie to give me company.[ chit chat therapy]What if i jumped off the roof? Wasn't i depressed and that would be the most logical thing to do?So would have mentalist reasoned. So what if i did? That would be peace for all around.Dear mentalist forgets that i am quite illogical  and i am not under any  drugs that would give the courage to do so unless,he has pumped them through the vents slyly, is that why he is anxious?Or was it to ensure that i  actually did ,unable to bear the non stop harrassment?

The way charlie takes care of me day and night ,even my mother wouldn't have even when i was a new born. Previous janma's Karma!

My pleasure punctured ,came down and went through the net. Suddenly toi news on sg's visit and suraiyas article on petty but costly prosecutions flashed through making me connect the dots of the the mysterious goingons in my neighbourhood.and i typed to Charlie 'are u cbi? did sg send u? Am i so important or that dangerous?Come down face me  or answer me or arrest me.Waited when no reply came switched it off.

As i was preparing dinner heard the  ,high pitched  affected sweet caressing and hypnotic voice[ how can a man have such a sweet voice it is sweeter than mine] of who else but the alien , floating up from down below.I decided to have it out.R was away to some drama.so no hassles there.Went to the balcony and kept staring  hard at Charlie's balding head hoping that he would look up.Would he ? No way .Then he started to go inside. I waited at my doorway debating whether he would take a lift or the stairs. Would he lose his nerve?

He didn't .As he came up with some green cards i called him in and asked him to take a seat .He did.I asked straight away "Why are u spying on me?"The consummate actor that he is with a school boy's innocence crossed his heart and said " Me madame?I live on A 9  the secretary of the association, don't you know me?I replied " You know that i know". But he didn't give way and rambled on about the cards.
I said under my breath "You are too smart". A smile like that smirk on that cat that followed him [ pet therapy] flitted on his face, that is all.The cat that followed him ,that black devil kept sneaking  further into the flat and mentalist ran after it to chase it away after taking permission from me to do so.But the familiarity at which he paced my flat was like that of a proprietor  who knows and owns every milimeter of it, the layout of the upper floor he occupies is exactly the same and it is definetly coupled with the fact that of his burning the midnight oil to keep a watchful eyes or rather hypnotic eyes  on us and continue it all day through  as well as devise tricks and theatrics to catch and divert our attentions in the day to come,whilst i the actual mistress of the flat sat benumbed and bemused rooted to the sofa.!. He stuck to his cover and asked me innocently " Don't you watch the TV?I thought 'As if you donot know'. Was it a suggestion to hypnotise me further?And added  ,very chummily that he found my face calm and peaceful .as he watched me from his window on and off ,  and not every second on his cctv as is sure is his regular practise. Another dig! I should have shot back your face looks so funny and strange.but i didn't.

Face to face he is small made, sweet voiced and has dark circles around his eyes. Effeminate with a huge head , obviously bulging with crooked brains.He was both scary and funny.
Scary because  he was being tricky and not straight and i knew that he was noting down my body language and was making  a mental note,which could be"Chee, after all my sweat and toil to make her an confident and strong neta she is as nervous as a mother hen"What a waste of time and energy.God alone can help me".

Funny because he was so alert and jumping around and seemed to be satisfied and pleased with himself like a cat that had its cream.He seemed to bubbling with inner mirth and enjoying a secret joke.Obviously at me .Since he has read all my diaries and has seen me and sees me in my most stupidest moments.

But his dark shadows troubled me. Am i such a tough assignment?Or  was it that , the illegality and unconstitutionality of  this entire operation had rendered it so  shady and shadowy that it is stretching on and on and is therefore taking its toll?I even got angry at ppts for troubling my tormentor --Stockholm syndrome.Why can't they let be? If my outpourings are of a sick mind why bother with them or with me?Good Salman khurshid got it back from Aravind k That man is a ppt as he reads my diary with utmost relish and interest but then goes around calling its writer as well as that crusader , [my younger brother and only protector who has replaced Vidat so very naturally and so very obvious to which i was blind so far since he heads idealistic , pure and angry youngsters who are like Vid and his  friends.,] 'sick'.Serves that minister right.
Ok back To charlie . he baited me with Porur and when i didn't take it he took leave bounding away .

When R came back i related everything . He said that i was praising a useless fellow too much.I replied ' may be in that short conversation he had hypnotised me to praise him ,so that he could get himself a promotion.R laughed and when i said' He is in cbi 'he further guffawed and said ''What a shame for cbi to have this ali.''

When i mentioned the dark circles under my tormentors eyes R said " dont worry you can drop
some money in his bowl when he loses his job and knocks on our door like that cat , so audaciously does."
Come to think of it the mentalist was a bit wary of me .Did he honestly expect me to spring on him any time and strangle his neck as i had threatened him earlier [in my diary at the height of pshycological and phisiological torture meted out  to R in the usual shadowy manner]? He has a very poor opinion of me , and what a thankless job he has  , to stare at me the whole day!

Then the memories of the cruel interrogation washed over me and the fact that he  had brainwashed me to  take un natural interest in Muslim's. to know about them more and to pity them came rushing back and i swore aloud" When modi comes i'll send him packing to a tanni illa kadu--waterless wasteland .At which r said ''Finish him of in an encounter. ''I replied ''No, No, he is half and half that is, a foe as well as a friend, so thanni illa kadu is the maximum punishment  that can be meted out for him.''

Face to face did not elicit the information i wanted but served to lift the gloom that had descended  on me in the morning [with the stark realisation that people i like and look up to never like me and even look down upon me and those on whom i do not invest ,that  much sweat  rush to my  aide and take side with me,] and made me have  a good laugh..





.

Few 'good' people.

If any one deludes oneself that India is a vibrant democracy  let me throw light on the actual form of   rule as it exists at present, as i am experiencing its selfish spinoffs, first hand .

The form of rule is, a very vibrant  and thriving'oligarchy'.The motto being ---

By few people, of few people, for few people.

People includes and means politicians, journos, intellectuals and businessmen.

An verse from Bhaja govindam.

Angam galitam palitam mundam,
Dasana vihinam jatam tundam,
Vriddho yati grihatva dandam,
Tadapi na muncatyasa -pindam!

Bhaja govindam, bhaja govindam,
Bhaja Govindam mudhamate!

Meaning:

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 fruitless hope!

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

This verse the observation  and advise of Adi Shankara' is  from his famous 'Bhaja Govindam' song written nearly 1300 years earlier, in the prime of his youth.

Gol maal.

What is the source of the maal to make this moll ,whole [ostensibly ,but actually is a cover up for  ,unabashed interception of political intelligence [eaves dropping on drawing room conversations employing kgb  torture tactics like ,the constant buzzing sound,reading my writings instantly as i write, through powerful hidden cameras] eg the change in strategy of the old old party in bearding  its  foe in his den and the recent move to bring the disenchanted in the crown of the country to the mainstream]

Is it from a consolidated maal of all political pals or purely from' Mota' maal?

Last laugh.

This smirking  purring cat ,belying its inherent and intrinsic ruthless and adharmic streak had its cream this time round also..second...but short lived.

Let's see as to who has the last laugh.

Bright lights of suburbs.

The way to and back was nothing like it was even a decade back, when the only known and famous landmark near our suburbs was the Ramachandra  hospital and an engineering college near the Sri Perumbudur town .
Now factories and more factories, gated housing communities, multistoreyed flats colleges  and huge shops dot the entire route.The car factory for which land was acquired ,is in full swing. I still remember the unmistakable wonder and pride in my f-i-l's car driver's voice when he visualised gleaming cars rolling out of the factory. when we went to inspect my f-i-l's lands.That driver is no more , had he been  alive ,he couldn't have lorded over those near empty high ways any more , since they were all crawling with cars  of every make , without a break for the entire 50 kms stretch.

An hour or so into or journey back, the cab came to a standstill  ,amidst thick traffic, As i looked out i saw that the halt was on the highways abutting our ex suburban house and the time ,8.30 pm.

There was a gym with transparent glass windows, with men working out  in full glare of all the passing vehicles as well as similarly transparent restaurants where couples were dining ,there was even a Reebok shoe shop! What a change! It was like a mela!

Just a decade or a little more back i would hesitate  to walk on this very road after nightfall as it was pitch dark and totally deserted the only movement being of those monstrously speeding mofusil buses that occasionally thundered by in this lonely stretch , squashing stray dogs, snakes and two wheel riders.and unwary passerbys.

Now every inch of the road was taken by motorists returning home ,probably from those factories .Lights that  were blazing, from head lights, street lamps, and from brightly lit shops, banks, petrol bunks, restaurants ,flats , hospitals ,gyms etc.has turned this dark quiet and lonely area , literally upside down.

Quite conversely the bright lights of the city the heart of which i live now looks, no longer that bright.

The Adi Kesava temple at Sri Perumbudur....religion.

The temple is huge with the unmistakable print of Vijayanagar emperor's bounty.Neat and nicely kept and quiet.
It struck me as i stepped on to the ground with my bare feet leading to the temple  which is right opposite o the house where Sri Ramanjar was born and raised , that once upon  a time this very ground  was touched and thus sanctified by the feet of this great acharya and that i was lucky to be doing so now.

Since the temple of Vishnu predates Ramanujar ,he must ave worshipped in these very precincts and i could feel his assuring presence as meditated and ciumbulated the silent corridors .
There is a  separate sanidhi for Ramanjar .According to the priest presiding over the puja's the panchaloka idol of Ramanujar was fashioned in Ramnujars lifetime itself  ,towards the end of his long 120 years of life and was given the finishing touches by the acharya himself, before it was installed , there in. The priest continued saying whilst the SriRangam temple houses in its compound the physical body of Sri Ramanujar, interred , the temple at Sri perumbudur has his spirit or atma encased ,for all times to come.

The prasadam viz 'pulihorai 'that is tamarind rice is as tasty as the prasadam available at Vardhrajar temple at Kanchipuram.

To Sri Perumbudur...................musings.

At the very mention  of this temple town's name the event that jumps into everyone's mind is the blast that took place there years back that took in its wake the life of a  ex PM.

This happened within a few months  of our landing back at Chennai after 3 year stay on transfer at Ranchi.It was then rumoured that its  perpetrators had rented a house in the vicinity of our house in the suburbs ,which was in those days nothing but acres of fallow fields  sparsely dotted with houses . This rumour /piece of information made us the early settlers  apprehensive of every Sri lankan Tamil residing there , who were all easily distinguishable from others by their very dark skin and attires that they  wore,mainly middies and maxi's and not sarees.,for quite some time to come.

This so far unheard of, an unique method of violent killing of a leader, perceived to be invincible and immortal owing to his awe inspiring lineage and personal charm ,was the talking point of conversation in all meetings whether social or otherwise,for several years there after.

My next association  with this place came when my father-  in- law  and m-i-l who stayed in the city picked me up en route of his visit to this place where his lands purcahsed for a song  in earlier decades was being acquired by the govt to build a car factory, to get my legal views.

If the place i lived 2 decades earlier was a forlorn outpost of Chennai , Sri Prerumbudur 40 kms away was a small town amidst barren lands and rolling fields, shrubs and thorn trees.Same  was  true of the way sides ,through out.

We also visited The perumal---Vishnu temple that was dominating this small town.

The above mentioned tragedy had eclipsed the original importance of this place to Hinduism and in particular to Sri Vaishnavism.

This is the birth place of Sri Ramnuja the foremost acharya , scholar and saint who analysed existing philosophies  that were scattered in the Vedas, epics, gita, aazhwar hymns and  his own views ,perceptions and codified them into a coherent form   and presented them as Visishtadwaita philosophy ,which is thence forward was considered to be one of main schools of Hindu philosophy.He defeated advaitan's in debates , several of whom  then voluntarily embraced his espousal's.He also went on a extensive pilgrimage of all parts of Bharat and standardised the form and procedure of worship and rituals to be conducted by priests in all SriVaishnavaite temples like Tirumala, Sri Rangam and so on, which are followed to date.

He was also a bold social reformer, a rarity in the times in which he lived --12 cent AD.He embraced every devotee of Narayana from which ever caste he may belong to, into his fold with equal rights.Thus shaking the taboos attached to caste system to its very foundations.He was a brahmin hailing from a very orthodox family but separated from his wife once and for all when she refused to serve food in proper manner to his teacher ,owing to his inferior caste status.He then took up sanyas and turned away from the life of a house holder.To him a devotee of Narayana was more important and dearer than Narayana himself . It was as simple as that.

I was visiting this place and temple after nearly 20 years. An old place but nevertheless an interesting novelty  due to my new found interest in Hinduism and philosophy.