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.
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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.
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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..