Posted on Leave a comment

Pitchumani and his non vadama wife – Chapter 04

Next morning, I sat before my laptop to cancel my train ticket as suggested by athai, but my’ chapalabudhi’ (weakness for good food) for Noorani sadyai, asked me to wait.
“Contact Pitchu first”, it said. O.K;  that is a point , but should I talk to Pitchu or Liz?
Since I met her in Virginia, I have spoken to Elizabeth on a few occasions and found her an affectionate girl and therefore decided to talk to her direct.
” Relax, Peri! Pitch has told me every thing “, she said the moment I started to mention about Pitchu’s family background.
That was a great relief. I called Seshumama and told him about my talk with Elizebeth .
” Now nothing to worry, mama! Relax, as Liz says. Do a few things : fix a European commode in one of your bath rooms and buy a few tissue paper rolls.; If there are no mosquito mesh for the windows and doors, get them fixed. And one more thing mama, Please tell athai that I am leaving now for Palakkad and will be back before Pitchu’s arrival ”
“Wait a minute”, Mama said,” I will call athai”
No, Please;tell her after I keep the phone down “.
I lifted my small travel- suitcase and rushed to the railway station, giving no chance to athai to ask me to cancel my trip.
I had spent several hours, as an young boy, watching at the beauty of the western ghats, as seen from our open bath room near the well at our back yard, at our Olavakkode house.The first thing I used to do as soon as I get up in the morning was to go near the well and watch the mesmerizing mountains and the water falls, with white clouds moving close to them, some above and some below, in different forms.
Even while standing at Jungfraujoch, the heighest platfrom of Europe and enjoying the marvelous mountain range at Sphnix Terrace in Switzerland, I thought about the vision of the western ghats from the backyard of my Olavakkode house. In the inimitable style of Chinmayanda, “The flavour of the jungles, the fragrance of the forests and the hymns of mountains”  have always attracted me. As a college student, I used to follow my English professor, K.K. Neelakantan, into deep forests, for watching birds. Some of you might recall that Prof.K.K.N was an ornothologist and he used to write articles in the ‘Mathrubhumi’ weekly, under the pen name ‘ Induchoodan’ On some days, when it suddenly rains, no birds could be seen and on those days, taking shelter under some trees, KKN used to talk about Shakespeare, Shelly or Tolstoy. I remembered him gratefully when I visited the birthplace of some English poets in U.K.during my visit.
While pouring cold water over my head in the open bath room of my house, facing the western ghats, a pious idea came to mind; Why not break a coconut before the Chathappuram pulliar and proceed to Noorani?.  Let Him remove the hurdles in the way and make Pitchumani’s visit a smooth affair.
Not a bad idea at all.
When I went to pick up a coconut from our cowshed, where once upon a time, a number of cows were housed and now only coconuts and some unwanted furniture are dumped, Pulliar said,
” Perias, you are picking up just one coconut to buy my blessings for such a big task: remember what you told Alamu mami, a few years ago, at the Eamcet center?”
Yes, how can I forget that scene, mami pacing at the entrance of the Eamcet center and asking me to break a coconut for Chathapputam Pulliar,” Just one coconut for such a big task, mami? Increase the number at least to three, please”
This is what I told her then. Now the task, C.P. has to intervene is much more difficult than getting EC in the Eamcet interview; so I should break three  coconuts.
But, should I? After all it is not for my purpose but my friend’s. 3×8= Rs. 24.00 should I spend that much money ?
My tenant’s child was playing nearby and I went to him with my five fingers opened
” Appu, onno, moono, thodu monea”( touch one or three out of these fingers)
C.P. has defenitely influenced the kid. He not only touched all the five fingers of my right hand but pulled my left hand also, brought all the ten fingers together and continued with his play !! Now no more dillydallying.” C.P”s orders are clear. But ten is not an auspicious number ; so I picked up 11 coconuts in a bag and went to Chathappurma temple. But before breaking the coconuts, I prayed that since the number is much more than what I had in mind initially, C.P. should remove the hurdles of not only Seshumama’s family but mine too and keep the extra one coconut in my credit balance!
While returning from Chathappuram kovil, I saw an old mama sitting in the ‘thinnai’ of his house, bare-chested. I went to him and asked,” Ongulukku Juddu Krishnamuti yai theriumo, mama?” (you know Jaddu Krishnamurti?)
There was absolutely no need for me to go to him or ask that question and I could have gone to the bus stop straight and catch a bus to Noorani. But as athai used to say, my budhi is a kurukshethram where there are 101 Kauruvas against 5 pandavas.
“Appidi inge arum illaye”( there is no one here with that name), mama replied. Then I explained to him what all I know about the philosopher and also quoted from one of his lectures:
” The moment you stop asking questions you are already dead–which is generally what has happened to older people. They have ceased to enquire because their mind is burdened with information, with what others have said; they have accepted and are fixed in tradition. As long as you are asking questions you are breathing through, but the moment you begin to accept, you are psychologically dead. So right through life don’t accept, but inquire, investigate. Then you will find that your mind is really extra ordinary, it has no end, and to such a mind there is no death”
Assuming that mama knew no English, I translated the quotation in Palakkad Tamil and asked him,”Ippo theringitho?”(understood?)
Mama glancing me from head to toe, asked
‘”Intha thengai enthukku odachai?” ( why did you break coconuts?)
I explained to him that it was for removing the hurdles and I did because every one was doing it.
‘” So, you neither enquired nor investigated as wanted by your philosopher whom you are quoting, right? You did not even bother to question the statement of J.K and find out the truth yourself, right? So,You are psychologically dead, right ?”
I started sweating and said,”konjam vellam kidaikkuma?”( water,please)
“Ullae mamikittae poyi vankikko”(get inside and take from my wife)
I went inside and mami offered me a seat, gave me not only water but some payasaprasadam too. She was tall, fair and her serene look and the big kumkuma pottu on her forehead were enough to bow my head before her. I did not learn any lesson from the rebuff I received from mama just a few minutes ago and therefore, instead of coming out thanking her for her courtesy, I asked a foolish question,
Onga athilai,ANAI IRUKKA,mami?”(is there an elephant in your house?)
” Irukke, rendennam, pinnale poyi paru”( yes, two are there , look at the backyard)
Lo and behold ! there were two elephants at their backyard.
When I got up to escape from there, I noticed a photo hanging on the wall on my right side. It was a farewell photo in a University campus as could be guessed by the dress of the people .
“That is mama’s farewell photo at Cambridge. He taught philosophy there for ten years; next month, he is going to USA, for participating in an international conference”.
.
Even without bothering to pick up the bag in which I had brought my coconuts and which I had left on a bench in mami’s ‘koodam’ I ran like a deer followed by a hunter, unable to face the staggering burden of my self-created miseries and halted only at the bus- stop.
I acquired the habit of poking my nose into the affairs of other people, perhaps from Venku athai, a distant relative of mine, who comes often to Hyderabad,after quarreling with her son and daughter in law, a nice couple. The problem with Venku athai is that she is too inquisitive and she doesn’t like to be kept in dark about any matters in any of the families known to her. I used to receive a number of phone calls and immediately after I keep down the phone, she would ask ‘arathu ? ( who called?), If I tell her the name of the person who called, then she will ask,” Enna sonnan ? ( what did he say?)’ It is neither possible for me to tell her nor necessary for her to know the details of the calls I receive. If I go to office late on a particular day, she would ask,” enna lata porai?”
why going late?) If my P.S. calls more than once a day, Venku athai would ask “Intha ponnenna summa phone panra . Avulukku kalyanam acho?”( this girl is calling often; is she married?). Like this…. Another ‘auspicious’ habit of this lady is to find fault with any good thing that comes to her notice. If you show her an expensive Kanchi pattu, she will say ‘ Ippo nanna irukku; ana oru nanaile chayam pokum.” ( it is o.k now, but will loose it’s shade once you wash it) The pity is once she has said ‘ chayam pokum’ certainly it would so happen and neither I , who is not superstitious nor the chettiar who sold the expensive sari know how only that particular sari, lost the original colour and charisma, as predicted by Venku athai. She is now 90 and going strong and the joke in our circle is that even Yama, the god of death is avoiding her. His worry is if she curses him to death, who will kill him? How to find a killer for the killer? Anyway that is Venku athai and don’t ask me why I follow her steps sometimes.
It is better to forget that episode till I poke my nose into another affair and get it crushed !!
As Athai predicted, I did attend a few more sasthapreedis, other than Norani, but reached back home in time, to receive Pitchu family.

Comments :
This is a hilarious take, plz.  I see a  buddha baba, a certain nalayak samy, is already dipping his dart into poison to fire it…
cris iyer
Posted on 3 Comments

Pitchumani and his non vadama wife – Chapter 03

”Does Fate always has the last laugh ? I doubt, I doubt” I murmured.

Athai, dispersed the auto driver, entered the house, opened the fridge and sipping coke, said “Sorry, to disturb you. Usually you go to sleep very late and that is why I ventured to come at this hour.” She called ‘S.N’ and informed that she was with me and would return on her own.
We are now sitting face to face in the main hall and athai started the conversation with a question:
” Apadi kim karaneeyam, Perias ?” What needs to be done, when faced with danger?
” Smaraneeyam charanaugalamambayam, Athai.” What else,think of the lotus feet of Ambal–Mother Goddess”
With that single line question, she has conveyed the message that she came to discuss an issue of importance.
“The wisest of the wise and the dullest of the dulls, never change.” said, she.
” Thank u for the complement, athai, at least now you have realized that I belong to the former category.”
“No way. you belong to the second category and I have realized that, the day we met first ”  We laughed heartily.
This tall, slim, fair woman of eighty is a symbol of grace, intelligence, wit and wisdom, humble and humane , kind and compassion. There is an aroma or greatness around her. She talks  only when she should and you can hardly find any weed in her speech.  Full of energy and enthusiasm, decency and dignity, she is  Seshumama’s elder sister and all our friends call her ‘athai’, though in no way she is related to them. “Has athai been informed?” would be the first question anyone asks in our group, when any function, good or bad is to take place in the house, You can see her in wedding halls, hospitals, maternity clinics, airports or railway stations, extending a helping hand to the needy. She never goes to any house on her own but she is the most wanted person among our group of friends and relatives.
“What is the source of her energy ?” I asked mama once, “won’t she get tired ?”
”Her mind” he replied, “Life’s frictions have created a huge energy source, a soorya mandalam, within her ”
Athai opened the fridge, and with another sip of coke, continued:
“Let us come to the point, Perias. I heard you telling Seshu, while eating last night, that you were planning to go to Palakkad tomorrow. I don’t know by which train you are going perhaps by the morning one to Vijayawada. That is why I came now.
I want u to cancel your Palakkad trip, if there is no urgent purpose. In fact I want u to be with us till Pitchu and family return to USA.”
“The trip is of urgent nature because Noorani sasthapreedi is just two days ahead and I don’t wish to miss the sadyai( Noorani ayyappa festival is well known and everyone enjoys the pooja and especially the feast. I shall return by the next train, if you permit”
” Our house is on fire here and you want to leave us for eating in the sasthapreedhi. Shame on you, Perias! Remember, it was you who lighted the fire and but for your communication, we would have continued to live in peace. And if I allow you to go to Palakkad, after Noorani, you will attend the sasthapreedi in all the 108 villages and then proceed to Trichur and Trivandram also. Sorry, you can’t go. I have no time to prepare chukkuppodi and omakkashayam ( two homemade medicines for stomach upsets)for you when you come back with a blotted belly.
“ Now, Perias, be serious, please.” Athai continued. “During the pooja last night, did you observe the high pitch in which Seshu sang along with you ? That was a deep cry from the bottom of his heart. As you know, he is a very soft spoken man and the suppressed feelings in him erupted last night when we all joined the children in the chorus. It was the helpless cry of a child fallen into a well, seeking help from his mother.
In one way, I am happy that the volcano erupted. In fact,I was praying that he should lie on my lap and cry like a child. If I were his mother, he would have done it . Anyway, Seshu is undergoing a very stressful period in his life. We all should help him to come out of it.” Athai continued,
“You may not perhaps be aware that our father was a Khanapadigal ( a learned scholar in scriptures and follower), who strictly observed the Niyamas and Anushtanas and did not tolerate even a minute deviation from the Vedic path. He was highly respected for his knowledge and the way he conducted the rites and rituals .He had performed Nithyasraddam for his pitrus for one year-”
” Wait, what nonsense are you talking athai? He performed sradhams everyday, for one year! He was a cruel man, I would say. Even to perform sradham once a year is a task especially for the lady of the house, preparing several food items , without sipping even a cup of coffee and starving till the end of the ritual.This pattar made his wife to struggle in the kitchen continuously for one year and you feel proud of him?” I could not contain my anger.
” Cool. when I look back, I too feel that perhaps, it was not necessary to perform shradham, everyday. I really do not know. Perhaps he would have thought that was one way to feed the needy brahmins and pay them some dakshinai(remuneration) every day but he could have done it in a less strainous  way. And with regard to your point on mother’s sufferings, women simply followed their husband’s directions and took all such activities as part of their duty.”
” You remember, athai, Jaddu Krishnamurti’s words:
‘The older the culture, greater is the weight of tradition which disciplines you, tells you what you must and must not do; and so you are weighed down, psychologically flattened as if a stream- roller had gone over you. That is what has happened in India. The weight of tradition is so enormous that all initiative has been destroyed. and you have ceased to be an individual; you are merely part of a social machine”
” I agree with him. Seshu blindly followed his father and expected his children also to do so and when that did not happen,he became heart-broken.
Though Pitchumani did sandyavandanam and pooja during his school days, when he started going to college he left those practices”
“He did them just to please his father and not out of love or respect for the scriptures. If he were explained the greatness of our culture, the pleasure you derive in performing the rituals, the meaning of manthras, the music in chanting them, the positive energy created by their vibrations etc., he would have continued them throughout his life. Athai, everyone wants to enjoy and loves to perform only such acts which gives him joy. Our Rishies, looking at the snow covered mountains, crystal clear lakes, clouds and waterfalls, recited the manthras enjoying every word. In north India, every one dances, irrespective of age even at a small family function. Why was bhajans, kavidiyattmas, music, dance, nadaswarams etc included in our temple functions ?
Our Rishis, knew the meanings of what they were reciting. so, excited by the divine experience , they climbed over the mountains and sang aloud,
” Madhuvadaridayathe, madhukshranthy sindhavaha ——-”
The earth, the sky, the oceans, the sun, the cows, the plants everything in the world was pouring out madhu, madhu, madhu. For them,every object was a source of the nectar of happiness and bliss. When their heart was overflowing with the Divine force, they found everything sweet all around.
How many of us are excited , while reciting Adithya hridayam , when the Rishi uses the appellations such as ‘padmaprabodaha, vindyaveedee plavangama etc ?
However smart and efficient you are,you cannot sit near a bud and ‘open’ it .The whole night the bud, standing on it’s marshy birthplace and closing the eyes, pray for the Lord and the moment the suns rays appear on the horizon,it opens up, automatically, effortlessly,spreading its fragrance all around. Only the Divine energy is capable of doing it. Distance, adverse origin or surrounding , nothing matters.
Recall, padmapriye,padmini,padmahasthe,padmalaye,padmadalayadakshi—– The Rishi sees only padmam everywhere when he looks at the Divine Mother,in her name, seat, eyes, hands everywhere.; nothing but the fragrance and divinity of the lotus fills his heart; then he mentions about her closeness with Supreme and seeks her lotus feet.’Thwal pada padmam mayi sannidaswa.”
similarly, the great Bhishma pitamaha, starts Vishnu sahsranamam with ‘Viswam-‘. He has said everything in that one word and when he completes the line with ‘Bhootha,bhavya,bhavat prabhu, his job is over but still he continues only because he wanted to sing God’s 1000 names. His heart overflows with compassion, with the progress of the namas, and in the end, with ashrupoorna-kulekshanam,tears overflowing, he addresses the God as ‘Radangapani! You, whom I addressed as ‘ sathyam, sathyavan, sathyadharma parakrama etc’, lifted the chariot wheel and rushed towards the enemy, when your friend’s life was in danger, forgetting that you had taken a vow not to use weapons in the war. If we had explained our vedas and puranas and manthras and japas in this way, why should our children forsake our culture and be after girls of another custom or country? ”
” Look, Perias, you are boring me too much. I hope that there is no vodka or margarita behind this long lecture. It is nearing eleven; I have to go home and sleep. I came here to make you understand that your message about Pitchu’s wedding with a foreign girl has shaken Seshu. Alamu also is equally shaken, but the mother’s blind affection overlooked all the undesirable acts of her son and more over, she knew that if she expressed her displeasure it would only add to her husband’s woes. Seshu cannot withstand the sight of a drop of tears in the eyes of his wife, so he too pretends as if he is not unhappy about his son’s action.
Under these circumstances, you, as a close family friend should stand by us during these difficult days.
“Seshu’s first worry is what to do if Pitchu’s wife cooks non-veg in our kitchen. Prasadams for Sivapoojai, Bhagavthi sevai and several other poojas and homams are prepared in that kitchen for several years and hopefully, that should continue at least, till Seshu is alive.We cannot allow the sanctity of the house to be destroyed in front of our eyes. you should therefore, do these things, tomorrow morning :
1. Cancel your ticket to Palakkad.
2. Tell Seshu that you would ensure that under no circumstance, you will allow Pitchu’s wife to enter the  kitchen and how you are going to do is your headache,and three,
3. This is perhaps more difficult. Pitchu’s wife should be clearly told about our family’s traditional background so that she comes prepared to behave in such a way that there will be no unpleasant feeling for both the groups.”
Athai got up, having accomplished her task.
“Now drop me in our house ”
‘Amazing! What a clarity in thoughts and expressions and what a grace !’ I thought and walked along with her to the car.
” Don’t you think that we would not have landed where we are, if mama had not insisted on jathakapporutham, vadamal and other trivial things,athai ?” I asked while sitting on the driver’s seat..
You call them trivial, but for Seshu, his son’s happiness after marriage depended entirely on those. Nowadays, boys and girls, before consenting for marriage, meet each other, go out together, discuss their likes and dislikes and in foreign countries, I am told, also live together. When we are given the responsibility of selecting a life partner, we go by the time-tested methods, like jathakapporutham, marrying from the same sub group etc so that maximum compatibility is achieved .. I know that these are outdated now; but these are the time-tested methods. Pitchu could have boldly told his father that he was not bothered about jathakam, sub-sect etc and his priority was only the girl’s looks and academics. My brother, no doubt, would have been unhappy but would have finally agreed. Whatever Seshu did was only keeping in mind the best interest of his son but unfortunately that did not work.”
“That did not work because he was very rigid in his approach. He should not have insisted on the sub-sect vadamal and such trash–You know,once you leave the shore of this country, you are known only by your passport.There is no indication of your cast or sub-caste there. Moreover, being brought up under strict discipline, and released to full freedom, Pitchu wanted to enjoy the new life, in full.
There are several other factors such as loneliness, work pressure and consequent stress, opportunity to freely mingle with the opposite sex, severe cold climate and availability of funds–all these would have contributed for his action”
” Perias, there is no meaning in discussing about the past; How to move from here ? Talk about that.  You know, I became a widow at the age of 16 after living in my husband’s house hardly for 3 months.” She diverted the topic casually.
” What?”
“yes. And do you think I would have lived up to 80, if I had not bundled and thrown my past in the kalpathy river,long ago? Memories of past do cloud my heart occasionally and at that time I take refuge in the lotus feet of my ‘Bootha,Bhavya, Bavatprabhu. the Lord of past, present and future.”
” Sorry, athai! I am not aware of this. Really shocking ! God’s ways–”
“God has no roll in this and therefore don’t blame Him.” Athai was categorical in her statement “Stupidity and ignorance killed my husband and several others in our group and is continuing to do so even now, though in lesser numbers.
There was an epidemic in Palakkad and the health authorities stopped every vehicle on the streets and entered every house and gave vaccination. When the health inspector entered our house, my husband escaped through the back-door as someone had told him that the substance injected was a serum from cow’s blood! He died after a month, because of the same epidemic; the maruthani stains on my palm and feet, applied for the wedding, had not fully vanished, when I touched darbhai( a holy grass used for the rituals) for my husband’s final rites.. Unable to bear the shock, his parents died after a month. So, my dear child! your athai has passed through worst periods in life.
“You know how my mother died ? After returning from the school, we children were to remove the school dress and keep in a corner of the front room and then only enter the house. Ankichi, who was 5 year old then, without removing the dress went inside and embraced mother, excited in seeing her after a gap of 4-5 hours. Shocked by this act, mother rushed to the temple tank and dipped herself in the ice-cold water to remove the sin of un-touchability. She was already suffering from sever cold and fever .Her body temperature shot up and she died of pneumonia within a week, leaving behind six of us, the smallest was Kalyani, 2 years old. I brought up all the five children including Seshu.
Superstition killed my mother”. Athai’s eyes were moist.
.
“All these experiences made me tough and fit to face any calamity. Calamities come in waves, in my life. When it became a routine affair, I started waiting for them and like a wild animal waiting for it’s prey, pounce on them and tear them into pieces, when they appear. I fight to the last and If they overtake me after all my efforts fail and the situation goes completely out of my control, I simply leave the war field and leave everything to Gopal.
‘Sakala karmarppanam Bhavatu Karomi jnan-” I am dedicating all my actions to You. Athai sang.
I completed the second line,
“Samsthamaparadam kshamaswa Jagalpathe!’ Oh, Lord, pardon me for all my faults.
We laughed together and athai continued ” So, I will handle Seshu but I need your help because I don’t know much about the western way of living.”
“Athai, I am now convinced that you can handle any difficult situation; but, if you don’t mind, let me ask you one personal question. Why didn’t you think of remarrying?”
” Widow marriages were not common those days. Moreover, My husband had 3 brothers all younger to him. Having lost the parents and the eldest brother, these kids would have become orphans, had I left them to their fate. So, I took the responsibility of bringing them up as well as my brothers and sisters and subsequently their off springs too. 17 children, in all, have been brought up by me.
Tell me now, Perias, did I make a mistake in not marrying?”
I was spellbound by this lady’s personality, courage and kindness. Unable to speak a word, I stopped the car in front of her house and opened the door for her.
” Sufficient for the day. Go and sleep”. She majestically walked towards her house.
” Hats off to you athai.” I whispered and turned the vehicle.
Before going to bed I have a habit of drinking a cup of hot coffee and hear music.
”Does Fate always has the last laugh ? I doubt, I doubt” I murmured while switching of the coffee machine and music system.
While slowly,inch by inch when getting immersed in the bliss of sleep, I could hear from the distance, like the winter breeze over the Sabhari hills, “Entharo Mahnubhavulu ‘
Let us call it a day, Bhagavan! Good night!

Posted on Leave a comment

Pitchumani and his non vadama wife – Chapter 02

”Nothing goes wrong, as long as we don’t go wrong ”
—————————————————————-
Appearance may be deceptive sometimes.  In Seshu couples’ case it was certainly so. Though they appeared to be as cool as cucumber on hearing from me about their son’s wedding with a foreign girl, it was obvious that they had not slept that night. Otherwise mama would not  have come early next morning, to my house ‘Anantha Jyothi ‘”Perias, send a mail to Pitchumani immediately”, he screamed, “I don’t want him to touch my body, when I am gone.”
“First be seated, mama” I requested, went to the kitchen and gave him a cup of hot coffee. When it cooled his temper a bit, I continued, “You are elder to me and our convention is that I am not supposed to give any advice to you. But I can’t change my nature to suit the tradition. Mama! look, I have no control over my body, once I quit. In your case , if you have claim over it, the best thing is to take it with you while going. who prevents ? Otherwise, let anyone who is there in the scene do as he likes; either burn or bury or throw it into sea or if that person is so much attached to you, he may even embalm and preserve it in his library. Sorry, I can’t send the mail to your son, as you wanted”
“ Adighaprasangam paserai”(you are talking nonsense), mama cursed me “You might be a world trotter , but your Vakrabudhi, perverted mind  will never leave you. How arrogant you are to talk me the way you did, that too early morning ?”
”You started that” I was equally adamant, “If not your son, who else has the right to touch your body ? How do you expect me to send such a senseless message to him?”
He stared at me and was about to exit  when an auto riksha stopped in front of my house and his wife got down and came in, shouting at mama,” Ongalukku ellathukkum avasarmthan(you are in a hurry always). You came early morning here to complain about my parents to Perias, right ?  You could have waited for a day or two, till he comes home”
” You think I have no other matter to discuss with him other than your pet parents? ” Mama yelled at her, ” it is a sin to remember them early morning. They are yet to give me that five hundred rupees which they promised for my dress for the thalai deepavali ”
“What is five hundred rupees before the dollars my son sends you” Mami didn’t spare him,” I carried him in my bosom for ten months  and delivered him in your hands. You thought that you plucked him from the tree in the court yard, Ya `
They were  about to return home, when my telephone bell rang.
That call was from Virginia, yes, from Pitchumani.
He also was, probably, spending sleepless nights over his misguiding his parents. He tried to contact his parents this morning and as there was no response, called me to inform that Elizabeth wanted to visit his parents and they were therefore planning a trip to India shortly.
.
” I don’t want to talk to him”: Seshumama said when I conveyed the message. “Give the phone to her,” he said pointing to his wife.
Mami, as usual was thrilled to receive her son’s call.”Pitchuu!, Nannarikkeloda”(hope you are fine. She asked him 100 questions about what he eats in the morning, after noon, evening; does he take oil bath once a week at least etc. and when she was about to close, mama grabbed the receiver and repeated almost what mami had said and closed the dialog with,“take care, while traveling;remember, you are coming with your wife and two small children.  Onkku vivaram poradhu –you are not smart enough to handle things properly”
“Mama, you refused to talk to him to start with, but kept the receiver only after talking for half an hour” I joked. He did not take my teasing seriously but said hesitatingly while leaving, “Perias ! can I borrow a few items from you , such as your carpet, microwave etc, for a few days? I would like to make Pitchu and his family, as comfortable as I can, during their short stay here”
.
“With pleasure; take away whatever you want and keep them with you as long as required”, I reminded, “don’t forget to collect some forks, knives, porcelain dishes and plates also”
The mention of knives and forks, did not please the old couple and they exchanged glances which brought out the fear within.
Mama called that evening,’Perias,Join us for dinner,if you have no other engagements”. It was obvious that he wanted to discuss with me about his son’s visit. I was fed up with self cooking and eating though I am hear just for a couple of days, and mami’s food was always an attraction for me. I readily agreed.
When I visited ‘Seshadri Nilayam’ that evening, children were reciting Lalitha sahasranamam. My memory went back to my childhood days when my father used to teach us those slokas in a melodious tone, sitting in front of the big ‘nilavilakku'( an ornamental brass lamp used for poojas). While reciting, Sahasradala padmastha sarvavarno-pasobhitha”, he used to pause for a few minutes, stand still, enjoying the beauty of the Divine mother, sitting on a multipetal lotus flower, in full glory, glittering with multicolour clothes and jewels. Now,when I approach mama’s pooja room, the children were reciting that stanza,an,’ukkekha kallolini’ waves of ullekha alankaram, starting with,’Bhavadavasudha vrishti, paparanya davanala—- and hearing that, my heart opened up, voice became rhythmic  and sweeter and legs failed to move further. Standing still, on the hall itself, I joined the chorus with the children. Mama from the bedroom, mami from the kitchen, ‘athai’ from the backyard and everyone in the house from wherever they were,also joined the chorus, as if we had come from different places to sing the glory of the Divine Mother. It was a unique experience. The ‘Seshadri Nilayam’ changed to Dakshineswar where the great Parmahamsa was dancing , to the melodious sound of the temple drums and bells, unaware of the surroundings and followed by the Divine Mother, holding his Uttareeyam, the cloth falling from his shoulder, like a small kid.
The Ganges were flowing slowly below the steps, the devotees were pouring the holy water on the twelve lingams on either side, the cool breeze mixed with the flavour of marigold, tulasi and Bilwa leaves was embracing the trees and plants around, the idol of Kalima, with all her glory was standing before me and the charismatic Supreme Sovereignty of the universe was following a skinny Brahmin, holding his cloth hanging from his shoulder !
Filled with that divine experience, none of us were in a position to talk, when we sat for food, leave away the question of any discussion.
Even after returning home, my mind was still in that elevated state and I therefore went to bed, closed my eyes when I could hear distinctly,’ Om Guru, Sri Guru,Satchidanantha Guru, Satchidanandha Guru Satchidanandha–” I am sitting in front of the Pathinettampadi, the eighteen holy steps of the Shabari temple, which are tastefully decorated with multi colour flowers, Padipuja was going on, the whole forest wass echoing with the bhajans of the thanthries, the temple priests..
I was slowly loosing my awareness and sleep, like an affectionate mother embracing her baby, was covering my whole body and soul and  I was slipping down and down into a blissful state. I am neither This nor That, ‘Chithanantharoopa Sivoham, Sivoham”:
“Lift me UP, Baghavan, to your lotus feet,the time has come, don’t delay ” I prayed silently, “Please do this favour before my mind reverts to its routine mischievous state.”
I pleaded sincerely to Guruvayoorappan to just pluck this flower and put it at his ‘Brahamma kadukina padam’,the lotus feet, washed reverently, by the creator of universe
.
Suddenly, I could hear the barking of my dog’ naughty’, followed by a three Wheeler’s sound .
Oh, He has arrived, the  Dharmaraja, the god of death to ‘pick me up’ I realized and it is no more a dream. But why did he choose a three wheeler ?  Didn’t he get a better vehicle, at least a decorated cart pulled by a buffalo if not a horse?
Anyway, I woke up from the bed.  I had none to take leave off before leaving the house nor anything to carry with me to the other world and therefore opened the door and found Athai getting out of the vehicle.
“Athai ! You, at this hour ? Anything wrong at S.N ?” I asked her anxiously.
”Nothing goes wrong, as long as we don’t go wrong ” was her cool answer.
Posted on Leave a comment

Pitchumani and his non vadama wife – Chapter 01

=========================================================================How thoughtful , intelligent and compassionate were our semi literate mothers and grand mothers!
——————————————————————————————————————————————–

Seshu Mama was sitting behind me, writing “sreeramajayam” and his wife, after reciting all the slokas she had learned from her childhood, was pacing before the waiting room, while our children had gone into the Eamcet counsel hall, at Hyderabad. “Eamcet” is a competitive exam held annually, for selecting candidates for professional courses, in Andra Pradesh and “EC or Electronics and communication” is a Major, much sought after by students in the engineering stream, in view of its job potential.As I could not bear the restlessness of mami, I approached  her and inquired, ”mami, Enthukku kuttipotta poonai mathiri ippidi appidi odarel? (why are you pacing like a just- delivered female cat?)”Pitchumanikki EC kidaikkanume!” she raised her hands in prayers, “oru thengai odaikkiren, Chthappuram pullayarappa!,”  She vowed to crack one coconut before the presiding deity of her native village, to help her son, getting selected for the major, he sought for.  Pulliar or God Ganapathi, combats obstacles and the belief is that the impediments and hindrance meet with the same fate as that of the coconuts thrown and broken to pieces, before the God.“You are offering just one coconut,” I pleaded on behalf of the God.”Increase it to three at least, please”I have seen people waiting before the surgical theaters and maternity wards in hospitals, youngsters before the interview boards and husbands before their employed wives seeking their monthly cash allowance. I too, have had some such experiences, especially, the one mentioned last. None of these had the intensity of Alamu mami’s  anguish and anxiety and my prayer was that she should not collapse, in the event of Pitchu not getting selected, for the major he wanted.
Thanks to Chappuram Pulliar’s prompt acceptance of the offer and Pitchumani’s good rank in the competitive exam, he was selected for the major of his choice and when he came out of the counsel  hall, prostrated on the ground before his parents, unmindful of the people around. That shows the manner in which he was brought up.
In course of time, he went to US, did his masters and secured a job with decent salary..
This is by way of introduction; the actual story starts now :
After a couple of years, the parents started looking for a suitable match for Pitchumani and Seshu mama was particular of only two things: one, there should be at least 6-7 poruthams (matching points) in the horoscopes and two, the girl should be from a vadama (a sub sect of Tamil brahamins) family only. Everyday he used to get by post, a bunch of horoscopes and he straight away discarded, those which did not satisfy the sub-sect criterion, despite several other plus points. Out of the remaining 10 or 15 horoscopes, the astrologer would clear only one or two. Those chosen few would not satisfy the requirement of Pitchumani such as that the girl should be fair, tall, slim, possessing a professional qualification, good in cooking, ability to stand on her own legs, communication skills, good in music, good in kolam drawing etc. She should be modern in looks but traditional in outlook. She should dress up fashionably for office and shopping but while at home she should wear only sari and not even chudidhar .
Several months and years passed by.  Seshumama did not succeed in finding a suitable match for his son but continued his efforts, untiring. A few days before I left Hyderabad for my continental tour, he reminded me to look for a suitable match “but remember,only vadama , please”.
While returning from Virginia, after visiting the Luray caverns and other tourist spots, my son asked, “Won’t you like to meet my friend Pitch, dad ?
“Enakku pitchem parukkanda, peyem parukkanda” ( I am not interested in seeing Pitch or witch), I replied,”let us go home and relax. My legs are aching”  But he insisted that I should visit his friend’s house, which was, en route and more over,”you should taste Elizabeth’s margarita”  After the Italian red wine, I had a weakness for that Mexican liquor and therefore I happily accepted his suggestion.
I almost yelled ” Ente Guruvayurappa”, when I entered Pitch’s house. Pitch was none other than our Pitchumani, son of my good friend Seshumama and he was happily married to a Mexican beauty and was a proud father of two lovely kids!!
I have learned from reliable sources that even when a vadama boy marries a girl of different sub-caste, his eligibility to become a father, remains intact. I was not therefore surprised but I was terribly sad,that his father was not aware of that truth and would collapse the moment he comes to know about it.
Pitchumani, was known to me from his childhood, much before he became “pitch”. He grew in a very conservative family under the discipline of strict parents. It would, therefore be impossible for the old couple, to accept a foreign girl in the family and that too with two kids. “Pitchumani, you could have, at least had the courtesy to inform your parents about your marriage” I murmured at his years while leaving, “where is time, Perias?” he asked, ” don’t You know how difficult life is here ?”
” I don’t think that you are so busy or your life is so difficult not to find a few minutes to talk to your parents about your mischief here. That old man, keeping a dozen horoscopes in his shoulder bag walks down to the astrologer’s house, almost every other day ”  I told  at his face,” and turning to  his wife,” Elizabeth, thanks for your hospitality; I loved your food and wine but not your honey calling me Perry ”
” You are welcome, Perias. It is my pleasure ” She replied and wanted to know, ”what is that horrorscope which Pitch’s dad carries in his shoulder bag   ?”
When I returned to India, the first thing I did, was to go to Seshumama’s house and give the news about Pitchumani. I was worried that the old couple would collapse hearing the news and silently prayed that they should not suffer a heart attack. I would have suffered a stroke, had I concealed that important news from the old couple. I prepared them for an hour narrating how America has changed the life style of our children and why we should accept them as they are and not mourn for their not living as we want them to be.
‘Eatho, Kozanthai kalyanam pannikkindu sugamairukkane illayo,athu poruam’ ( anyway, my son is married and lives happily, that is all I want). That was all mami said. Her response surprised me.” Kozanthagal ivaraimathiri illathakki chevappa irukkala?”(hope that his kids are fair and not dark in complexion, like my husband), she enquired with a mischievous  smile and looking at her partner with whom she had a wonderful life for the past four decades.”Nan karuppunnu therinjittuthane, ennai nee kalyanam pennikintai?”
-(you married me only after knowing that I am dark-skinned?), mama retorted and that was the beginning of a heated discussion.
I quietly withdrew from the scene when Seshumama, whispered,”he could have at least informed me that he was already married. How much money did I waste on Postage and astrologer?”
How do you explain this response ?
Parental love? Capability of human mind to accept the inevitable and absorb shocks ? Geethacharya’s ‘karmaneyavathikarasthea…? or the superficial mask of a burning Volcano?
I had no answer. But I realized while walking home that mami’s joke was planned to reduce the intensity of the lightning strike on her husband’s mind.
How thoughtful , intelligent and compassionate were our semi literate mothers and grand mothers! Often my father used to enter the house like a thunderstorm and mother used to hand over his vethilaipetty, pan-box or a tumbler of sambaram and quietly move towards the kitchen without a word !
(to be continued )

 

===============================================================================================================
“Sa ya eshonthar hrudaya aakasa: Thasminnayam Purusho manomaya : Amritho hiranmaya:

In the stillness and silence of my inner space, shines a dazzling brilliance, to describe I have no words “



=======================================================================================================================

Posted on 9 Comments

Leave it to them!

Memories Gone are the days, fortunately in many cases, when the father of a teenage girl, used to carry his daughter’s horoscope, on a selected auspicious day and auspicious time, with the anxiety of a patient entering the surgical ward , to the entrance of the house of an eligible bachelor, clear his throat to draw the attention of the head of the family and place reverently, the yellow-cornered paper which he had brought, at his hands and wait for a favorable reply for weeks, worrying and praying all the Gods known to him . Gone or the days, fortunately in many cases, when the date of the wedding was announced, after discussion and agreement on dowry, the weight and size of the ornaments, the number and size of the brass, copper and silver vessels, clothes and other movable articles to be handed over to the bridegroom’s party, the father of the girl ran like a mad dog, to acquire the cash and materials required for the wedding.

Now we carry our son’s horoscope,door to door and our daughter selects her partner, make all arrangements and invite us for her wedding.

Those who are lamenting about the improvement in the educational and consequently the economic status of the present day girls are perhaps unaware of the mental and physical deprivation the parents of the girls had undergone, as recently as a  couple of decades ago. How will they then be aware of the devastation of the young women of the earlier generations,who were forced to marry widowers of double or triple their age, became widows before reaching their puberty or a few years later , tonsured their head, broke their bangles, discarded all good things and lived like  a condemned prisoner within the four walls of their husband’s house? The ‘athai’ of my Pitchumani story, no doubt is a fictional character but the comments received from the readers of that story was moving -yes, in every village if not in every house there were similar athais or patties, not long ago. Our society was responsible for the tsunami in their life, though we took refuge under the unseen fate’s cruelty or un -protesting  God ‘s necessity to punish them for the deeds of their past life. And now, we boast about the glory of the gone golden era of our community! And  now, when the present generation stand on their own legs and want to live their life according to their own light and direction, we fret and fume as if some one is roasting  Guntur chillies in our kitchen! Our society has suffered enough of poverty and humiliation. Now rejoice when at least some of our families are prospering.
Our children are grown up, educated, exposed to the good and bad things of the world much earlier than us and much more than us. Leave the choice of their life partners to them. If your guidance is sought in the the selection, don’t start your priority list with the horoscope or the name of the Rishy written therein, who lived several centuries ago and presumably started your family in the Sindu or Brahmaputra valley or the sub groups formed as recently as a few  centuries ago when we migrated to the present place. Start with the  boy or girl, who form the core of the marriage. Then your  daughter or son will be lucky to get married, mostly as per your and their choice, before they are 28 or 30. Otherwise, they will curse you through out their life, if they are not smart enough to find their own partners. And please, don’t tell your daughter-in-law, when she enters your house for the first time that the main purpose of bringing her there is to hold a few blades of dry grass standing behind your son to sweep the path of the ancestors when they ascended the celestial citadel.   That is not the  purpose of having a wife and your son knows that. And you also know that.
And when your children prepare architectural sketches to develop colonies in the Moon or Mars, don’t talk to them about Rahu or Gulikan. The journey to other planets, you will agree , is much more arduous and risky than your visiting the cloth shop or native village and Rahukalam is not definitely  one of the items in their check list, before commencing the long journey.
I presume that our interest should be only in having a naughty and healthy grand child and I am sure that our children know how to make that gift to us. So, Leave it to them.
Baltimore,
May 29th, 2008

Posted on 4 Comments

Jugal Bandhi

It was a pleasant surprise for me to meet Sri.Ayalur Venugopal, one of the senior members of our forum, during a music concert in Tampa, last Sunday. Within a matter of minutes, as it happens with we patters (and for which we get scolded by our children )  personal matters almost adequate for writing a biography of the other person was exchanged, unasked!.
. Sri Venugopal gave me a pleasant shock. Looking affectionately and proudly at his wife (sahadarmini, in our VVR’s language), he said that she belongs to Ashtasahasram sub -group- “your group” he said then pointing his finger towards me. Marriage between a vadamal boy and ashtasahsram girl would have been the talk of the town (or village) over sixty years ago. And one thing is certain: On their wedding,the blessings of the elders ” deeeeeerghayushman bhava and deeeeeeergha sumanghali bhava”  would have been pronounced with pretty long deergaswaram and sweet and sanctified tongue and heart.Yes, this couple have passed through the vicissitudes of life, holding hands together, for 60 years!  I wish this family as a whole, who have settled in a foreign land,more and more happiness, peace and prosperity and specially, deeerga deeerga  sumangalitham(still longer married life) for smt.Venugopal . Every one is not blessed the way this couple are; thank you, God!
Now let me come to the topic of to day’s discussion.Will our tribe continue to exist or extinguish? A question frequently raised and debated in our group.
As recently as ten years before, inter-group marriages were few and far, among us. Some thirty years ago, when I went to a Vadamal family asking horoscope for my sister, the house lady, with an uncomfortable look as if there was a fly on my nose or a white patch on my eyebrow, asked, “Ashtashasram allava?” Yes, Vadaml group had an illusion that they was an aura around their head. After two years, for my another sister’s marriage with an iyengar boy whom she loved, the entire wedding arrangements was managed by the bride groom’s family( let every wedding be like that ) and we were not allowed inside the kitchen ; it was manned by cooks bearing sanku and chakram tattooing on their shoulders .When my daughter was married to a Telugu Iyengar family, love marriage of course, some 7 years ago, there was absolutely no disparity, hidden or visible; ‘vratham’ was performed by the boy’s side guided by a  Telugu vaishnavite purohit and marriage was performed as per our customs and procedure. Some three years ago, one of my nephews married an Assamese girl and the wedding was at Gowhati..The vaadyars from Kolkata could not reach in time due to a strike in the airport and I had to act as a purohit though the only manthram I know is “mangalyam thanthuna.”!.It was a real fun. When I handed over the ‘akshathai’ to elders assembled in the pandal, for blessing the couple, they threw it on their own head! Subsequently the bride groom’s party performed the wedding in their own method and it was strictly as ordained in the scriptures.
‘Avaa Palakkattu karalakkum’, the womenfolk whispered in my marriage in Trivandram, though they knew that the  girl’s grand parents had migrated from Palakkad and they were related to us.”Pandiyile poi pon eduthirulkkale amma!” Trivandram people gasped when I attended the wedding of a girl from Nagercoil ! You know the distance between the two towns!.
In the olden days, no one used to wear sandals or shirts in our villages especially while leading in procession, the God’s ratham, singing bhajans or reciting vedam,donning ‘panchgatcahm’ and projecting kudumai. It pains me to observe now that youngsters in jeans and T-shirts whistle and dance mimicking our soap operas. I love whistling and all forms of dancing including the western and folk varieties but certainly not while leading the sacred vehicle of the God. Sanctity is sacrificed, for a momentary pleasure for which there are plenty of other avenues. But it is bound  to be like that when the type of village occupancy changes. It was the result of our disposing our houses to people of a different category who demolished the dilapidated houses and in its place built bungalows. We sold our ancestral  houses because we had no need for them,  we could not maintain them and we moved to a metropolitan city in India or abroad and built  posh apartments with modern facilities. And we expect the God’s vahanam to move through the streets bordered with tiled-roof houses and ‘thinnais’ and ‘muttams’ decorated with ‘kolams’! .
When I was a child, I used to see a number of  Namboodiri women holding ‘olakkuda’ or umbrella made of palm leaf, visiting the Guruvayoor temple. I don’t see a sing ‘olakkuda’ now. I am sure that those women would be still visiting the temple and they continue to be safe sans a protection tool. We are  happy that we can see the God unobstructed and the God too is happy because he can see the womens’ faces better.And Krishna is a God of love and beauty.
Changes are inevitable and you cannot stop them.The habits of Kerala iyers are different from their ancestors in Tanjore or wherever they lived in the Tamil-speaking part of the country and again those of their forebears who, probably came from the Narmada valley as some historians say. Go deeper and deeper, you will land in Africa, mother of human race, according to some scientists.
I have heard that my ancestors had vast landed property and everything was lost, by poor management, and no developmental activities and lack of fresh income.  Had my father not picked up the courage to leave the village and go to a small town, some twenty miles away, where he was the only brahmin , we would have died or starvation or disease or at the best, survived and studied up to matriculation in the village school .Had we not moved, after acquiring higher education in turn to big cities, found good jobs and lived in good surroundings, our children would not have acquired professional qualification and settled in countries beyond the seas. Their next generation or the next, might go to moon or mars and settle there. The nonavailability of the basic requirements prompted my father to migrate and all the migrations are like that.The movement of people has existed throughout human history at various levels. Necessities prompt migration of all species including birds.
If our children are marrying from other caste, again it is out of necessity. They are not able to find the partners of their choice in their own group and are not happy with the parameters set by us.”Your priorities are wrong” they say, “you start with horoscopes, then family and the girl is at the bottom of your list”. Be happy that they are better informed than us and they will not make any wrong choice; and if they make, they suffer. When we arrange a marriage strictly according to our customs and if it fails what could you do and marriages do fail because there are at least two people involved in that and more in combined families. Earlier also, marriages had failed but the women silently suffered the pain due to the restrictions imposed on them.For most of them there was no option. Had the women been educated in those days or economically independent as they were in some Kerala socities, things would have been better. We did not educate our women because we had no means for that or  we did not find the necessity to educate them as they were not to be sent for work for others or outside. And who will do the full time work in our kitchen and prepare different varieties of food for members of different taste and more than twenty dishes to please the departed souls of our ancestors who visit us annually in the form of vadyyars wearing panchagatcham?
So, let me come back to the University of South Florida auditorium, from where I started the story.The programme that evening was a ‘jugalbandhi’ or musical duet between two famous north and south Indian flutists, Pandit Ronu Majumdar and Shashank Subramaniam. The music created by these two masters was rich and mesmerizing. In case your son or daughter has recently married from a different caste or state or country,and a different gender, be happy. The product of different culture, gene and habits will be hopefully superior and the only prayer you have to do is that the child is not borne with any physical or mental deformity.
Venugopal anna and manni (vadamal and ashtasahasram jugalbandhi) and me and my daughter enjoyed the musical extravaganza of the last Sunday evening. I am sure that you too will enjoy the  ‘jugalbandhi’ (the fusion of diverse caste and cultural alliances) of your family. I join in your prayers for a rich and mesmerizing outcome..
One more thing; do not keep worrying whether our tribe will exist or extinguish after 25 or 250 years. Nothing extinguishes; only get transformed and the transformation will be always for good .
So, sleep well. If you do not get sleep even after reading this story read more of them in my website.

Posted on 6 Comments

AGNIMEELEY PUROHITHAM

‘Agnimeelea purohitham—“

Years ago, Sri. Kailasa vaadyar from Perinkulam, came to Hyderabad to participate in a Maharudra Yagnam . I was to receive him at the Secunderabad railway station but couldn’t reach there, well in time. That was his first visit and  he was not conversant with the local dialects or English. He didn’t even have my address.  I was extremely worried and dashed into the station, expecting to see him pacing up and down the platform with anxiety and anger.

I was wrong. Vaadyar, settled calmly in a corner, was enjoying his betel- leaf and nut mix. He didn’t even ask me why I was late. Moving his right hand down, he signaled me to sit down along with him and after enjoying one more course of betel leaves, he moved his hand up to signal me to get up and  lead him out.  He was as cool as a cucumber;  Many others placed in similar situation would have become panicky .While going home, I apologized for the delay in reaching the station and asked him how he could keep his cool after landing in an unfamiliar place, for the first time.

“ You  would  definitely  come, I know’’ he replied.

Many of our village folks had that certainty on their hope. “Guruvayoorppan  will save him” An old man remarked  sitting near the bed of his close relative, who was at the exit gate of his journey. “ He is struggling for his breath;  doctors are preparing to write his death certificate . How will he survive?” I wondered. Believe me, the patient did survive. It could be an isolated incident. It may not happen every time and I have no explanation to offer how it happened in that case.But I believe that when devastated by the fury of  floods, famine or epidemics  and  no visible solace available,  it was their belief and unflinching trust in an invisible agency that helped my forefathers to live through.

Ambi left his village unannounced long ago, leaving his father, a widower with none to look after him, alone. No one knew about his  whereabouts and therefore , when his father passed away, with none to mourn his death, the villagers  carried  the body to the  cremation ground, on the  river shore . ‘‘Ambi will definitely come. He is the only son and very much attached to his father”  remarked neighbor  Vembu Ayyan  who was in the procession. “Have  you gone out of your senses? He disappeared long ago and who knows whether he is dead or alive?” Others chided him. But, Lo and behold!  Ambi  did come to lit his father’s  pyre!  Driven by what we call ‘sixth sense’, he returned to his village to meet his aged  father and apologize  for his misbehavior. While crossing the river to home, he enquired  someone he met , whose body were the villagers carrying to the burning ghat. That person, incidentally, recognized Ambi.  “Ninte atchanteyada, madaya. Poi koluthu- go and perform the last rites- it is your father’s body.’’  He replied Of course, the prodigal son couldn’t apologize; but he could perform a bigger task .

There is no scientific explanation for these happenings. But you know,  as Osho says “science is not the be-all and end-all of life”  .

Let me come back to our Kailasa  vaadyar. I used to recall that completely composed posture and confident face of Vaadyar on the Secunderabd station platform,  when many of my professionally qualified friends, experts in their fields, miserably failed, while facing crisis in their life.  People like vaadyar  and  my father, with no formal education or  management training, had a unique way of facing challenges of life.. Once they arrive at a premises where a wedding or last rites are to be performed or a field where there is a lot of commotion or devastation, they instantly occupy the central stage, lead the people and handle the opposition cleverly and solve the problem amicably. How did they acquire this skill? Probably, from the tough path they had to walk through and from the rough weather they had to face. Children brought up under hardship, in many cases, are better equipped to face the life, when compared to those born with a silver spoon in their mouth.

Kailasa vadhayar’s father Krishna vadhayar was a lover of Kathakali, like my father. He used to come all the way from Perinkulam to Olavakkode, by walk, to watch the dance drama at Kallaikkulangara , during the Sivarathry festival. I remember him as an old man of sixty, perhaps seventy, full of energy and enthusiasm of a teenager and it was a pleasure to watch his face and body movements when he watches kathakali or talks on an interesting subject. Along with my father he used to sit at the front row, very close to the big ceremonial brass lamp-kuthuvillakku and enjoy  every action and each musical note. He used to bring with him, a bundle of new clothes, kasavumundu- dothies with bright  borders to be gifted to the best performers.  Guru Kunju kurup , Vazenghada Kunju Nair, Venkitchen baghavather  and other masters used to receive the gifts from Vaadyar and take his blessings.

Ramu vaadyar was another learned  purohit in our village. I used to watch with respect  the beauty of his performing pooja at our Siva temple. There were a few more learned pundits engaged in full time religious activities, like Thirvilwamalai vaadyar  but I had no acquaintance  with them.

Kalpathy Chuppammani vaadyar was another memorable purohit. He was our family vaadyar.  With no mechanical device to pollute his metallic voice, loudly and clearly, he used to recite the annul Mahasankalpa mantram , facing the hundreds of villagers assembled on the flight of steps descending from the temple backyard .The overflowing river below and the majestic multi-branched tree above, appeared to  repeat the mantras reverently  along with others. Like the car festival, it was another unforgettable sight. The rhythmic  recitation of vaadyar still reverberates in my ears.

The purohits, in those days, had no cell phones to ring and disturb them while performing poojas and homams. The bridegroom had no reason to worry that vaadyar’s  “mangalyam thanthuna—”  could stop in between and he had to hold on to  tie the sacred yellow thread around the bride’s neck till the conversation was over. They had no golden bracelets, rings or chain to announce their riches and their assets was limited to the knowledge they acquired from their teachers. They had no wrist watch to alert them about the next engagement and rush through the one already on hand. They didn’t even have a shirt to cover their body or a pair of sandals, to protect their soles. Their worldly possession was limited to a few pairs of  dothies , an umbrella and a fan made of palm leaf, all received along with ‘dakshinas’.  Though their remuneration mostly was  part of a rupee along with some rice,  coconuts, banana and betel leaves, they lived a rich life and received the respect of the society. They were simple and straight forward, sincere and  devoted  They kept their high and walked; they slept well.

As a child, I used to visit my village along with my father, though occasionally. I used to enjoy the bus journey, fresh wind from the paddy fields on both sides gushing through your face, and the subsequent walk through the narrow road in between the paddy fields. The village with two rows of identical houses with a big pond at the entrance itself, was an attraction.

One middle aged lady, wife of a vaadyar used to like me immensely probably because she had no male child . She was always found cheerful and pleasant looking but on a particular day she looked dull, when I went to meet her during my college vacation.

‘You could smile more” I pleaded, hoping to bring back the usual brightness on her face.

She brought from the kitchen  a bamboo basket used for storing rice  and placed it before me. There were hardly any grains in that.

“Come on! Let us smile together” she patted my back flashing a smile and breaking into laughter. I looked at her face. Her eyes were shining. The old smile had returned on her lips. That was what I longed for.

But, I could not smile. I WEPT.

Posted on 4 Comments

Crack a coconut

I refuse to believe that the departed souls, need a walking stick or bed and pillow or even a lamp, towards their journey upward. I laugh at the Vadyar when he says that they cross the ‘Vaidharani’ river, holding the tail of a bull-calf! But still, I buy all the stupid items in his list and gift them to him realizing pretty well that on his way home, he would sell them in a retail shop. And I won’t blame him. He needs money. Who doesn’t? I won’t also blame him when he demands cash payment for the cow to be gifted .How will he accommodate that animal in his flat? Who will wash the cow and remove its dung, however sacred it might be? Who will milk the cow? Why make life complicated when pasteurized milk is made available at the door –front? In the olden days more cows you gift to a Brahmin merrier he was, richer he was. Not now.

What a pity if the departed soul had to depend on the few drops of water and a few sesame seeds we throw on the floor once a month or a couple of rice balls we place on the dry grass spread on the floor once a year! In what way they are then different from other spirits which, according to their religious belief, wander all over the space and return to their burial spot for night rest?

But how do we say that they exist at all, even in another firm? “How to trust death?” asked Omar Khayyam, “who knows that there is nothing but desert on the other side too?”

“Nerkku maru karayilum verum marubhoomi yallenn-

Arkkariyam maranathe vishwasichalo?”

Does my journey in this world, ends with my last breath?If there is a hidden external agent, which entered the body at its formative stage, called soul and in death, if that gets released where does it go? Our scriptures say that It amalgamates with the ultimate Origin or return to the world in a different form. If there is a delay in this process, the needs of the soul have to be taken care of during the transition period and hence our rites and rituals. How long does the departed soul remain in interim?

These questions were asked again and again and will continue to be asked ever, hoping to get a satisfactory answer.

We perform ‘shraddam’ for the manes of the past three generations. It becomes impractical to go beyond that. Magnanimously we give offerings to known and even unknown souls, as we are uncertain who all remain in the transition stage. My Telugu Panthalu extends the list to my uncles, cousins. teachers and many others. The Haridwar Panditji in the Greater Baltimore temple asks me to offer floral tribute(archana) to Bhishmapitamaha, Prahlada and several Rishies also. There was no gloominess in the rituals guided by the Pandits of north, whether in US or Brahmakapal and I enjoy that cheerful ambience. And trust me, they prune their finger nails and wear clean dress! One reason why the younger generation hates our vadyars and temple priests is that their nails and dress are dirty. Most of our temples are unclean and unhygienic. One reason for the deterioration of our religious practices is the attitude, appearance and behavior of those who are expected to maintain and promote our culture and habits. Our mutts and temples, music sabhas andreligious discourses should attract younger generation. Now, they are abode for the retirees.

Despite my scientific background and rational thinking why do I continue to perform ‘shraddam’? Is it because of the fear that the departed souls, will curse me if I fail to provide them the paltry feeds once a while? Certainly not. 

Like other things, spiritual or religious thoughts also have limitation. Similarly, science and logic too are blind beyond certain level. There are several grey areas beyond human comprehension. “The Indian mind was extraordinarily analytical and had a passion for putting ideas and concepts into compartments” says Nehru. I do believe that a lot of thinking have gone in formulating various steps in the ceremonies prescribed for wedding, obsequies etc.

The bridegroom, holding the right toe of the bride, helps to place her right leg on a small granite stone kept on the right side of the sacred fire and requests: “ Mount on this stone; be firm like this granite ; defend against attack and criticism but be tolerant to those who oppose”

(“ Aadhistemam asmanam asmeva thvam sthira bhava.

Abhithista brithantatha: sahaswa brithanaayatha:”

Those who lived in combined families will tell you how meaningful these encouraging words are for a girl to be transplanted to an unknown alien soil. The words reflect practical wisdom and pragmatic approach.Similarly the bride-groom’s open declaration in the presence of his whole family addressing the bride is remarkable:

“May you be the queen for your father-in-law; may you be the queen for your mother-in-law may you be the queen for your brothers and sisters- in- law”

“Samrajshree swasurea bhava; samrajshree swasuram bhava.

Nanandhari samrajshreebhava; samrajshree adhithevrishu”

When you go to attend a wedding next time, please explain this to the mother-in-law of the bride. You can’t find a better gift to the couple.

Remember this mantra, while offering ‘haviss’ (ghee-soaked cooked rice) to ‘Agni’, while performing’shraddam’?

“ Yam ne matha pralulobha saratyananu vrada thanme retha:pitha

Vringtha mapuranayo papathathamam”

I am sure you know what it means?

“My mother would have failed in her duties as a pathivratha; Still I want this offering reach my biological father”

How deep the vedic mind has gone in framing the rules ?

Keeping this factor in mind I perform ‘sharddam’ to the extend possible depending on the circumstances. I am not rigid but whatever I do, I do wholeheartedly.

The second and more important reason for me to follow the steps suggested by my forebears is that, I derive immense pleasure and satisfaction in following most of them. When I lift a small quantity of water in my cupped hands and pour it reverently on earth or back into the river from where it was drawn, thinking my parents their parents and so on, I attain a peace and satisfaction unexplainable in words; The few drops of water which I pour is just to express my gratitude to them for gifting me an opportunity to live in this wonderful world. Life certainly is a bliss with all its rocks and caverns. I cannot repay for all their sacrifices but at least when I get an opportunity to say ‘thanks’, I should do it.

But how do you know that ‘they’ have heard it? I know because I have heard it. When a clarion call goes from the cavern of my heart, “Ente Guruvayoorappa!” every micro cell in my body pulsates and it reverberates through the macro cosmos. Similarly, when I welcome the souls of my parents and their parents, ”AAyadappitharah: sowmyagambhherai’, I feel that they are entering my house to accept my offers, from some outer space, which my scientific mind tells me, is not true. Perhaps, my accumulated vasanas, my “preconceived notions,inherited beliefs and traditions which come in the way of dispassionate criticism” as Nehru says or simple delusion, overtakes my rational thinking. I am happy to accept my delusions. But if you get the same satisfaction by placing humbly a flower bouquet before the photograph of your father or mother, fine. Otherwise, better start, “apavithrappavithrova”. You will enjoy doing it.

I tell my children :” When you are under the vice-like grip of problems, stress and strain,go to a Ganesh temple. Don’t enter, if you don’t want to. Stand before the main door and throw forcefully a coconut to strike at the granite near the entrance in such a way that it breaks into pieces. Develop a feeling within that it was not the coconut seed that cracked into pieces,but the Himalayan problems which were crushing you. Just feel. You will see the result instantly. You can drive back home more peacefully.

I don’t know whether they tried or not. But I suggest you do that. It is definitely a better thing to do than shouting at your subordinates in the office. We, the older generation had another pressure-relieving mechanism : Shouting at our wife. You are deprived of that. So, go to a Ganesh temple and creak  a coconut- as forcefully as the situation demands.

Posted on Leave a comment

The Haridwar kids


This happened several years ago. After a holy dip in the Ganges, I was meditating on its shore at Haridwar, when I noticed two kids playing in the waters. They were not alone .There were several others taking bath and the kids’ parents also would have been there. Notwithstanding, a strange fear got into my mind that the KIDS MIGHT BE WASHED AWAY by the swirling waters of the river. My meditation got disturbed and more and more I concentrated on the flowing river and the playful kids, my only prayer was that nothing should happen to them and they should  return to the shore safely.
My next place of visit was Kasi and the fear followed me there also and instead of concentrating on Baba Viswanath and allowing my mind to melt in the soul stirring sounds of the gongs, conch and bells accompanying the harti, my mind was wandering on the banks  of the Ganges at Haridwar worrying about the fate of the kids. From Varanasi, I proceed to Gaya and other places, but everywhere, the turbulent mind  was occupied exclusively by the  Haridwar kids leaving no space for other thoughts. The well planned pilgrimage, several months in advance, was thus ruined.
Now, sitting before my desk top in the study at my son’s house at Baltimore, when everyone at home is in sound sleep, my trip down memory lane  is marked with several such uncalled for agonies. As a kid, I used to pray that my father should not be bitten by snake or struck by lightning, when he returns from our agricultural land, long after dusk. But such fear never entered my mind, when I used to walk across the paddy fields, holding his hand, to watch Kathakali dance at the Kallyikulangara temple, which commences late night. I thought that my father was safe, when I accompanied him!
The Haridwar kids would have been, perhaps, good swimmers,and their parents would have been there to take care of them. Being a non-swimmer myself, I would have been of little help to them and my anxiety was therefore unwarranted.  The Ganges have been flowing for centuries and  several kids would have played in the waters and some of them, unfortunately ,would have been even washed off!. The Holy river will continue to flow for several more years( let us hope and pray that her cruel sons do not choke her to death), and I am not going to stand eternally on the banks of the river!
My pacing up and down the foyer of the maternity ward where my wife was admitted for delivery, packed with fear and worry, was absolutely unnecessary. So was my sorrowful wait in front of the gate of my son’s examination hall.In both  these cases and several such others, even the access  to the  areas was denied  or unavailable to me.  would I have have been able to deliver the baby on behalf of my wife or write the examination on behalf of my son, had I been given the permission? Impossible. Then why did I make my life miserable,  gripped  by fear and  robbed  of  my reason?
Fear in any form, is an enemy. When fear enters in the space between husband and wife, father and son, employer and employee,  it destroys the uniting thread and burns the parties too.
The most unreasonable fear is that of God and Death. God is the ocean of love and compassion and to fear Him is to go away from Him. Death is the only assured event in our life after birth and fear of the death is to invite it nearer and to kill the joy of the remaining part of our journey.
J. Krishnamurti said, ” the mind creates the problem , and then becomes the soil in which they take root; and once the problem is well  established in the mind it is very difficult to uproot it. What is essential is for the mind itself to see the problem and  NOT to give it the soil to grow.”

Posted on 6 Comments

NINNILTHANNE PIRAKKAVU


This is’ Karkitaka’ Masam, the short span of mid July-mid August, pre-harvest, pre-festival,  lack luster period, in that distant land of my birth. The incessant rains and inactivity in the paddy fields, enabled our elders to earmark this period mainly for prayers and worship. Special poojas, such as ‘Baghavathy sevas’ are performed  and ‘Adyathma Ramayanam’,  that great poetical work soaked in devotion, of the great Master Tunjath Acharyan,  is sung every day, through out this month.
Sitting before the desktop in my son’s study at Baltimore, viewing the vast stretch of lush  green lovely landscape, laced with oaks and pines, I remember my late father,who introduced me to the wonderful world of Adyathma Ramayanam. Fresh from bath after a long day’s work, his forehead and wide chest and long arms smeared with ‘Vibhudhi’, he used to sing “Jagadaasryan Bhavan, Jagathaayadhum Bhavan —-” in a melodious tone, sitting before a big ‘kuthu vilakku’- an ornamental brass lamp, which enhances the  sanctity of  temples or pooja rooms. It was a unique experience to lie on his lap  and slide into the dreamy valleys of sleep, hearing the sthuthies, devotional hymes  of Ahalya, Agasthya or Jadayu . Those melodies pours out of my heart unintentionally, whenever I see a magnificent sight or experience joy or sorrow. Looking at  the mighty Niagara falls and wondering at the great gift the Nature has made to the humanity, closing my eyes I sang..”Agana gunamadyam, anantham, advideeyam…..”. When I stood and strolled on the 12,000 ft high Jungfrau peak in Switzerland, C N Tower of Toronto, Eiffel tower of Paris or any such awesome heights, I sang the glory of the Creator, through the words of the Thunjathu Guru.
” Santhaya, Roudraya,Sowmyaya, Ghoraya, Kanthimatham kanthi Roopaya they Nama,” murmured my lips,  looking at the glowing  setting Sun , while cruising the Sein river of Germany.

Another wonderful asset, I inherited from my father, is the love for Kathakali. During Sivarathry time, there used to be Kathakali programme for a week or so at the Kallaikkulangara Kshethram and I remember as a kid, following his ‘Choottu Velicham’, while crossing the rocks beyond the railway lines.  ‘Choot is an indigenous, eco-friendly torch and it was a pleasant experience to follow its light and walk through narrow paths at night. Last year, when I went to Olavakkode, I almost wept seeing the devastation made by human hands in leveling those lovely hillocks and making a pathway in the middle.


In my anxiety not to miss a kathakali programme at the Govt.VictoriaCollege grounds, a couple of years ago, I almost missed my trip to overseas.

Pattars should be thankful to their ancestors for migrating to that wonderful land of divine beauty, which is in no way inferior to the well tailored landscape of Austria or Alpine mountains. And man, where do you get that quarter chaya and Nenthrapazham ? I longed for them while strolling aimlessly through the streets of Paris and London : I longed to see a single Nair, clad in snow- white dothy and shaking his head vigorously while asking” Entha mashrea?”
The sight of the gigantic Colosseum at Rome almost stopped my pulse beat when I thought about the innocent lives, lost just to satisfy the sadist pleasure of the Royals. How harmless was the pastime of Pakatakali and Namboodiri jokes.

Nairs,Nambudiris,mappilas,ezhuvas,Nazranies—what a homogenous group we have in Kerala! Avial,Olan, Kalan,Pappadam, Idichupizinja payasam— Oh, Great !

” Ninnil thanne Pirakkavu Jnan oru
pullayenkilumnen Malanade “

I desire to be reborn only in you, even as a grass-blade, my dear land of hills!
So I wrote in my college magazine, several years ago. Today, after walking sa long distance and having seen many places, I still would like my prayer answered irrespective of the inadequacies of my land of birth.
Baltimore
Aug 2, 2007