Koiladi.Temple

After visiting koiladi in the morning for a darshan of Appala Ranganathar[27.1.13] and on returning to our lodgings i was in a dilemma .Should i write or not write?Since if i write i'll write as it is and i am sensing strongly that whatever i write about my observations on the land ,people , temples, life etc , is torn to bits by politicians and journalists, in minutes and is gleefully carried off for themselves the bits that suits their ends best .

After packing up to return to the stables i stood on the balcony and the Raja gopuram towered majestically into my view with Ranganathar in his calm repose in the central niche .The lord of all.The personification of truth who presides over all equally and existing eternally.

Seeing him my dilemma dissolved as i decided that if what i write can bring about some good to some nameless, faceless and voiceless persons and does not cause harm to any one ,why not go ahead and just do it.so i have done just that.
Earlier as we left the lodge to the temple a  group of men in the white and white the attire of politicos stood around talking in the veranda The cabbie explained that the lodgings was a favourite spot for  political workers of all hues to congregate for a chat and that this group belonged to the one ruling this state.Tamilnadu.
The way side to koiladi  from Srirangam has retained its rural character with rolling fields of rice, sugarcane and plantains,. much as in times of those saint poets..A board said Ponni  [kavery]delta .
In some places land was cleared and clay bricks were shaped and dried and in several others huge concrete machines and lorries were stationed and at few other spots sand was heaped in huge dunes and were scooped up by bull dozers ,as lorries lined its sides.All these activities on the land that looked too fertile to be so trifled with.

Passed kallanai dam that was as bare as a bone picked clean .Just 2 years back on my last visit ,it was filled to the brim and was gushing out of the sluice gates in frothy fury !

As we neared koiladi 20 kms away from Srirangam banana fields were drying in the early growth and not as it does when it is fully mature .Obviously the water from borewells were being saved for the rice crops.

The temple however was a pleasant surprise, Gone are its dilapidated run down appearance,that it presented  2 years back on my last visit.
The gopuram had a fresh coat of paint and the walls of the temple were no longer crumbling.The cracks had not only been filled but the entire building was strengthened .Several workers were busy in the renovation work which i hear was speeded up in the past one year mainly due to the diligent efforts of Sri Vellukudi with  also the govt pitching in.

Two year back Kavery had worn a glittering deep blue coat and flowing merrily in full swing and full of life near the Kallanai as well as in the canals by the side of the fields  and on the side of this koiladi temple whist the temple had looked old and lifeless.Now the temple is glowing in its new lease to life but the river on its side is supine and dry!

The priest of this small but very ancient and sacred temple was bent on clarifying and rectifying the defects in Divya deasam guide books that the main deity of this temple --Ranganathar 's right hand lay on the head of Markandeya rishi seated on the floor and not on the appam[sweet delicacy] pot ,as is wrongly mentioned in those books.He wanted the devotees to know the exact traditions and not fall prey to hearsay.

Srirangam.and Uraiyoor Temples

As i sipped the filter coffee counting the number of kalasams on top of the gopuram[13 in number] ,the deathless moving winds carrying its early morning chill stroked me gently reminding me of Tondaradi azhwars description of dawn in Srirangam in the early 9 th centAD.
The swans and picturesque landscape as described no longer exist yet the dawn freshened the jaded night with the same mysterious power of cleansing ,a jealously guarded secret all through the rumbling centuries ,perhaps from the dawn of time itself.

As we neared the raja gopuram for a early morning darshan the sounds of school children in white singing patriotic songs at front of  Ghandhi's bust,whose back was turned to the main entrance and the main sanctum within, caught my attention.
The processional deity popularily known as Nam perumal was being taken in a huge wooden chariot around the temple that was pulled  by all those present  with great vigour ,enthusiasm and bhakthi.A festival that occurs but once a year.

There was a large crowd of people.which is by no means unique since as early as in 8 th centAD Kulasekara aazhwar,Tondaradi podiazhwar  and Periyaaazhwar have referred to the deep devotion of devotees in 8and 9 th cent's itself in their pasurams,with lesser population and fewer and slower means of communication.

What was amusing was that every person chafed at the presence the teeming crowd that stood on their way for a peaceful and quick darshan  forgetting that to others they were very much part of the  crowd contributing to its  swelling and as much an hindrance for a smooth passage to the sanctum!

In the evening after an excellent and peaceful darshan of Sri ranga who has evoked tremendous outpouring of bhakthi by a galaxy of saints and scholars down the ages ,visited the Nachiar koil at nearby 
Uraiyoor.Unlike Srirangam it had very few in attendance and the temple very quiet since its processional deity who is also namperumal was busy at Sriranagam. In here the main deity is Thayar --Lakshmi and  festivals are  chiefly centred around her and at times together only when namperumal visits her premises,which is once in a while.

The hall housing Namaazwar -saint  has paintings of puranic lore adorning the entire walls.Unfortunately every available space within hand reach are liberally scribbled with initials of visitors marking their attendance and with signs of heart and arrows!To think that namaazhwar was a bachelor,spurned publicity and attention and was filled only with love for the divine and for none other,it is truly ironical.                                                    

Srirangam Temple

It is purely a co incidence and quirk of fate that i find myself at Tirumalai on our Independence day and at Srirangam on the Republic day.

The hotel we are lodged in, is right in front of the Rajagopuram which is visible from the windows and balcony.
The image of Sri ranganathar in the Central niche of the first tier of this huge and aesthetic gopuram that towers over 20 other gopurams erected in the vast complex since ancient times ,calmed my nerves frayed by the ear splitting noise and unbelievable violence indulged by both hero's and villains of  Tamil films played on the late noon video bus to Srirangam from Chennai .

The calm radiated by Sri ranga was also in direct  contrast to the noisy town bustling with activities in and around the temple .

Srirangam is the very place that was touched by the sacred feets of all the 12 aazhwars from 5 th cent AD onwards as also by noble column of acharyas with Ramanujar in 11 th AD down to Desikan 14 th AD and several other saints till date.

That each aazhwar has sung hymns in praise of the deity testifies to the fact of their visit and the great importance accorded to Sri ranga and the unstaunchable springing of a  flood of bhakthi.As per even more ancient traditions ,the deity was personally handed over to Vibheeshan by Rama ,in his own memory at his coronation ,who refused to budge when vibeeshan placed the deity, at a stop over at this place on his return to Lanka.Since then it has been consecrated and worshipped with the lankan king extracting a promise that Sri ranga would face southwards, towards his realm.

The poetic  description of Sri rangam by aazwars of the swans swimming in placid lakes and  rivers with sweet chants of vedas floating in the air and the atmosphere submerged in  thick layers of bhakthi came to my mind and was startled back to reality by the acrid smoke spewing from chimneys of nearby hotels that   spread rapidly and lay  thick and hovering, over the place.

This idyllic island did have moments of horror when Turkish invaders from north wrought death and destruction in 14 th AD when a wall was raised to hide the main deity from the marauders and the processional deity parcelled off for safe keeping at Tirumala  and Sri Desikan who lost several of his friends and disciples was forced into exile in a forested  area of Karnataka[ Satyakala and melkote].

Things were back to normal when the invaders withdrew after few decades and the ghastly memories overcome by reviving the temple activities as once before and it is continuing till date uninterrupted.

A very sacred and a historic place .

                     The Raja gopuram.

Rounding of rough edges.

I hated the huge flash light erected ostensibly to lighten the temple next door but served  only to spill its dazzling light on to my eyes making me shade it whenever i came out at nights to take a deep breath of air and to widen my view ,narrowed  by the walls of the flat ,to  broaden and refresh it by looking at the open space.

I pitied the arasa maram [tree] that is  in the full glare of this light.How can it sleep in such blinding lights ,that also invades my room in all its intensity? At least i can hang thick curtains on the windows and try and dim its glare.

Tonight for an instant i forgave the insensitivity of the boor who had mounted such a huge and powerful flash light, at that instant when the leaves the gulmohar tree in my compound whose branches have creeped up  to brush with the neighbouring arasa maram ,on which droplets of rain had collected at the tip of every skein , a rain that was pouring   like a spray and caught that light, whose glare had  been  softened by this spraying from the skies ,and reflected them as enchanting as sparkling diamonds ,embroidered into in dark green velvety smudge.

An fairy land was created in a sudden swish of a  magic  wand with  liquidsilver splashing of translucent  green fluttering  leaves of the arasa maram and tiny silver lanterns swaying precariously from the tips of dark green skein of the other,with the gentle slants of the fuzzy rain murmuring a soothing tune at the background A fairy land was created right at front of my porch by  primeval elements  harmonising and smoothening the excessive vitality and insatiable desires of humans .
  Like all good things this magical minutes were for few minutes and disappeared may be to be replicated elsewhere in time and place for another  audience as the clouds withdrew to itself its unasked for generosity.

written on 29.12.12

Confusing dakshina.

Dear ruling ppts,
                            You have given 'dakshina 'to the ppts in the opposition by facilitating the easy removal of the vice that is currently most abhorred by the public ,that of corruption in high places ,smoothly by deploying one of your most malleable and amenable agencies on the one accused of  being so .

Tut tut ,Haste is waste.I was seeking 'dakshina' for myself personally.The removal of the  cbi gigolo from my attic.As usual i was misinterpreted.

   From ,
              One who is old enough to be a granny and is also deemed to have uncanny abilities but is for practical purposes treated as a one stultified in adolescence requiring the constant supervision and administrations of cbi gigolo nannies.

Thirupavai---22.

Angannama gyallatharasar abhimana pangamai vandhu nin pallikatirkeezhe,
sangam irruparpol ,vandu thalaipeidhom                                                                                                      Kingini vai seidha thamarai poo pole,
sengann sirisiridhe yemmel vizhiyavo?
Thingalum adhithanum yezhundarpol angan irrandungkondengal mel nokkudhiyel,
yengal mel sabham izhindhe lorembpavai.

Meaning:
A huge crowd of rulers who have held sway over vast tracts of bountiful lands ,preening in their pride of being unchallenged in their superiority in the earth  have all assembled, humbled ,at your bedside.
We the ordinary mortals have also joined them and are yearning to reach you.
Won't your eyes ,that is as red as a lotus bud that has unfurled its petals only slightly to the size of the mouth of tiny bells adorning anklets[sadhangai] look in our direction?
Kindly bless us to be free of the curse of separation from you by favouring us with a divine look of those two eyes which posses the brilliance of the sun as well the coolness of the moon that have risen together.

Letter to ppt's.

My very very undear ppt's
                                            If at all my earlier post 'Oracle strikes' is true, i have a feeling that it is and you all know it ,then creeps you all ought to be grateful and beholden to me for making the 'Scion' --the redemptor of minorities to arrive at a decision instead of  continuing to ruthlessly harassing me to secure your seats.

As for Rahul baba,no ,no you are no longer baba,your timing is perfect suited to your nature ,you can continue to twiddle your thumbs happily without any responsibility for another 10 or 15 years  after providing the much needed oxygen--straws  for your party to clutch on ,befitting your family name,when the real aam admi [,like Modi]  ,you are pining for and know like me only academically and not actually [their poverty,indignities, pains, struggles and ambitions]   with fire burning in their belly to make use of the barrier free opportunities conferred on this nation by [your g,g.dad ,my g dad and others] freedom fighters and architects of the constitution ,will rule with enthusiasm and fresh vigour.Now that you  did your family proud.take a break get married , have kids, a family  the real one ,

There i have gone and foretold the future again! [  previou janma karma and co doing,pumping spurious drugs from the attic whilst i am asleep and making me confess in the morning]

Superstitious and clueless ppt's resign to your fate graciously .Don't worry about your next step .What ever you may or may not do the stars have already decided the course.

My dakshina for reading the stars?Just pack up and get lost.I want to get back to my original ,normal real life..
  .
.

Oracle strikes again?

The word 'fortunately' is at the tip of my tongue though the word more appropriate would be 'deliberately' and by design i was allowedto walk on the terrace from 5.30 pm onwards for full 40 minutes without any let or hindrance  yesterday evening.
Black crows ,a group of which had cawed raucously  ,strangely at midnight [the swift retributive tricks of kgb gigolo and co either for referring to gigolo as the personification of my past karmas or for having laughed at the sight of rahul baba waving vigorously at the gathering at Jaipur in that chintan--when my husband quipped that his time was up and thereby was waving a hearty goodbye or for both] to subside only when i got of the bed to appraise  myself of the nonstop bedlam outside my window and popped in a crocin to relieve myself of the dull headache that had cropped  during the day quite unnaturally,were wheeling and diving in the eastern sky ,restlessly in huge flocks ,before settling for the night on treetops ,at some distance.

A star pair most probably Gemini the twins and Jupiter had risen shedding their lights dimly as it was yet to darken .As i gazed at them pondering over the exploitative nature of mankind and wished that i hadn't been made ,alert all over again to the muck, dishonesty and deceptions to which i had innured myself in the past 5 years ,the scent of a strong shampoo assailed me .The newly resident thin balck cat that had looked very longingly at a well proportioned grey pigeon perched beyond its reach satisfied its hunger by nibbling at the rice balls that were offered on' kanu --pongal' to birds which had become dry and crunchy ,purred in contentment.

 .Mosquito's snipped at my feet making it impossible to enjoy the hush of the dusk in peace for more than 10 minutes making me move towards the stairway. The evening western sky as seen from there was a long sash of red satin ribbon over a mauve horizon,was breath taking in its subtle beauty.Black bats  were out in the open sky and as they flew over the terrace they strangely seemed to be disoriented  at a certain point as if deflected by an invisible ray and had to  regain their balance ,redirect themselves to flap away.

After sprucing up ,decided o catch up with my prayer that couldn't be offered in the morning as the house wasn't silent and peaceful nor did i have the time then.

As  i meditated a disturbing thing happened , my late younger brother kept popping up .Very unusual of him to do so,making me wonder whether his family was in distress.

I had determined not to speak till this chintan blah blah was going on since i know that it will be transmitted , interpreted[not always in the meaning it was to be] and used causing me more disquiet.I was also determined not to show my reactions whilst reading articles from the websites i routinely visit.Though my son refused to believe in the existence of the powerful monitoring i am subject to he was right when he observed that i was excessively addicted to the virtual world of audiences and letters and exhorted me to let go of it or be prepared to face the consequences [which i am already in form of social ostracisation --just what is my crime ?,harrassment at every corner,with once polite sales persons turning nastily rude,once indifferent passerbys either glaring or staring at me in unconcealed curiosity,once courteous servise providers bankers, plumbers etc indifferent and non cooperative] ,i as usual did not listen to his sane advise in this matter.

So at 7.30 pm soon after my prayers there i was seated before the PC reading and shaking my head in disagreement very very impreciptebly.[ unable to check this new found habit, probably the outcome of repeated suggestions from the attic.] to pp's  [toi blogs] observation that Modi's chances were slim in 2014 elections.Was this the clincher?

I was through with the net by 8 pm and could hear the  excited voice of kgb gigolo and co from down below like those raucous  crows that cawed in the middle of last night.What was the excitement all about?

The 9 o clock breaking hot news had it. The crown prince had shed his reluctance  and has formally taken the post that was always his for asking.

I noticed with a shock a few days back that the moles under my right eyes have enlarged and darkened.Skin allergy or excessive glare in confined areas?

Am i being used as a oracle? The answer from god? Or as the truthful representative but refined embodiment of views and princilpes the opposite camp is supposed to stand for?Or was excessive faith verging on the blind is being reposed on me on my avoved ability to forsee the future of this nation?

Have i just spun a fantastic yarn or is there some substance in that old adage that some times facts are stranger than fiction?

The midnight cawing, .converastions,walk and timings are all factually correct and true but with regard to their connections i am perceiving with the polity of thiscountry, your guess is as good as mine.

.

Broker.

CBI gigolo[the personification of karma's of my previous  janmams-live's]/basic instinct expert [who  how ever couldn't break me,though he tried his level best]/event manager/has struck again a La Mughal i azam style [so very outdated ,yet some continue to live in ivory towers],in the latest avatar of marriage broker, straining to forge friendship between foes by striking matrimonial alliances .Of course all in the sly with a large overdose of aphrodisiacs streamed through vents coupled with suggestions to the subconscious by the in house sexologist to make a indifferent heart of a young man to come together with another from a totally different background ,in the fashion of  medieval mughal emperors --Akbar and sons ,taking in marriage princesses from warring Rajputs .In here, in this modern  era it has been practised,however in the reverse.

The mute question is ,won't cupids darts lose their efficacy and  go astray once the illusion so painstakingly created wears off?Another short lived triumph?

Have fun for now at my expense ,i am in no hurry to have mine.My vaikunta vasi grand dad's[maternal] golden exhortion' Haste is waste' is what i have set ,  to follow.

Precious seconds of cherishment.

Had the world gone Topsy turvy or was i simply imagining?The fact that every man on the road  passing me by, of all ages and classes gave me a full glare of the stares that are reserved only for pretty young women even at those times there were plenty of such attractive damsels were at my side ,that made me want to pinch  myself and shake myself to reality. !

I did so mentally ,by blanking them out ,but the unnatural stares continued  unabated and still does [though few months back it was in full steam] making me feel awkward and self conscious whenever i took a walk down the street or attended functions or visited public places.I am no VIP.I persisted with my walks much to the head ache of my detractors and continue to do so.

.In all this befuddlement of sudden unasked for importance ,my thanks to one young man ,whom when i looked up expectantly for the artificial treatment i was being subject to relentlessly for several months ,for a long hard wolf stare whilst crossing a street .He was staring at a woman of his age ,completely and most naturally overlooking me as was the norm all these years spanning decades.Waves of relief washed over me.

He had somehow evaded the dragnet of CBI gigoloand at that very instant brought back the normality to my life  that had suddenly and inexplicably taken a toss.Those seconds though few, infused me with fresh vigour to face the onslaught.

Richard parker.

Are multiplexes as cold as inside of a igloo or was i seated [deliberately ,maybe] too close to AC vents that streamed out unnaturally icy cold drafts?

Brr the cold was bone chilling .Wisened by a similar earlier experience ,i had this time around slipped in a shawl into my handbag before leaving the house to watch the film Life of Pi in 3 d.Though i was intending to do so for quite a while the immediate stimulus ,is the nomination of Bombay Jayshree's musical score  for the Oscars,

Her song , lullaby, is just a tiny bit in this gigantic film pictured with a finesse that vies with Titanic. Her husky voice, as is always, which merges,  very naturally with the feelings and pathos in lyrics  is, as captivating as ever.

The story as told by the hero on him being cast away in the pacific is 2 fold.One is extra ordinary , enchanting and unbelievable.The other is raw and plausible.So which is the true story? The film ends with this unanswered question.

There is an wise observation that facts are stranger than fiction.

Back home I stood pondering over this whist watching tender new leaflets with the lacy delicacy of infancy shiver slightly in the passing wind.On glancing down saw the newly resident black cat slinking amidst the bed of flowers that have just opened its tiny tube like petals ,red in colour.
 Our own Richard parker prowling around competing for space and territory.The answer to the question?

Note..The dialogue regarding Vishnu and a fish could have been given the miss.

PS. Richard parker is the name of the side hero --a royal bengal tiger..

Vivekananda's thought s for the day.

Show love and kindness to all. Do good to all. But do not become a slave .

Borderline idealists.

If a person views another as an idealist then that person so judging is himself or herself an idealist ,since he/she views another's thought process and beliefs  as unacceptable and contrary  to his views,  even if those views   maybe  accepted as  pragmatic.Since he is sticking as dearly and furiously as an confirmed idealist to his set of belief's and also views it as superior to others and expects other lowly , idoitic and irrational mortals seeped in ignorance and delusions ,to adhere to his  ' rational ,sane and level headed views' , so stamped,by oneself, with conceited self approval.

Sights on New year morning.

The comic sight of charlie cum kgb  ,whom i imagined would be dead drunk and laid out for at least two days [,wishful thinking indeed,] arguing with the watchman at break of dawn, in a streaming brand new lungi and tripping over this unaccustomed apparel ,worn only to convince me of his  minority community status , indianess and that he was not a bird of passage .

The pleasing sight of huge , intricate and artful rangolis drawn on every house front with words in English as a out lineborder wishing all a happy new year..Pleasing to the eye as well as a relief ,that to many it is a year to look forward to and that they have not been bogged down by the non stop blitzkrieg relating to fluids, blood ,gore and fury that has been dominating all forms of media and continues to do so.

The amazing sight of the the long long queue[normally found only during vaikunta ekadesi] outside the temple where whole families had turned up braving the early morning chill , fresh from a bath and clad in new clothes  waiting patiently for their turn to get a darshan of Balaji/Srinivasar and seek his blessing to see them through the year ahead. 

The lively sight of tall youths tapping and tossing balls into baskets with sinewy arms rippling with energy in the adjacent playground.

The scintillating sight of the ever youthful sun though eons old spreading its early morning  mellow butter like yet  brilliant splendour  bathing every stone , pebble, flower, plant ,animal and human beings in equal measure and transforming all the mundane for an instant of time , as some thing sublimely beautiful and appealing .The rare reflection of eternally occurring beauty.

The auspicious sight of a milk man carrying a pail overflowing with milk ,the droplets spilling out ,shining with the subtle luminosity of pearls , illumined by the  golden rays of the morning sun..

Capital reply.

The girls valiant fight , ordeal and subsequent unrest amongst youth and women there [Delhi] has not gone unnoticed or unsung here.[Chennai]
The unveiling of 13 point programme by the cm in here to protect women from unwanted attentions of  male predators is a fitting reply and a concrete memorial to the path breaking struggle of that hapless, unknown girl.
The power vested in  a single woman  has been purposefully and promptly used to secure the dignity of 1000's of power less women.
This swift action re in forces Amma's sensitivity and sincerity .It is touching and very praiseworthy.

What next?

Colourful rangoli's adorned nearly every house front,at the street along  with words  wishing every one , passerby's included a 'Very Happy New Year -2013'.

The black topped road was covered with a sheet of  whitish green dust of dried neem leaves shed by overhanging trees, shredded  and powdered thus by passing vehicles , old and worn out leaves let loose by the tree in anticipation of fresh green cover that would facilitate its regeneration by bursting forth its tiny but highly aromatic white flowers in the coming spring which would be gathered by eager hands to garnish 'manga pachidi '- ,the most important and very significant sweet, sour,.hot and bitter dish made from unripe mango's,a dash of jaggery and a thin wedge of green chillies  that signifies the various shades of life in the celebrations of the Tamil New Year in coming , April.

The early morning mist cleared as the sun ascended the skies and winked with blinding brilliance through a patch of low lying purple clouds, igniting the bougainvilleas flowers that were blooming in countless bunches in untamed roguishness over a compound wall , into a fiery magenta , adding alluring crest to the thick foliage, rippling in gentle waves ,over the street.

A man materialised out of the fast fading mist with a hand held pail sloshing with milk.Some residents of this metro still prefer fresh milk over pasteurised ones.

This setting reminded me of a similar scene i was witness to and has very mysteriously retained its  freshness in my memory though it is several years old ,that of in a rural street whilst we were waiting for the temple that comes under divya desam circuit at Kumbhakonam ,to open for the evening.That of a man walking leisurely down the canopied road with a pail of milk in his hands stopping at the gates of the houses lining one  of its sides , to deliver the milk.Only, that he was old and weather beaten and quite indistinguishable , a mere silhouette ,in  the mild rays of the evening sun filtering through.

This man was brisk and young and had a fresh faced boy in tow.
I have seen him in earlier years carrying his trade  first on bicycle and then on a dusty moped and  today it was on a spanking new motor cycle .It was parked on the road side gleaming and bearing a few more pails, fastened on to its sides .
It made me wonder ,what next would his mode of travel be?