Author: shivam

  • Anonymous calls and after effect

    Anonymous call  1:
    ”Prasksham Pandalugaru unnaraandi ?  Is Praksham Pantulu there?”
    ”Panthulugaru paralokam velli ennyo samvalsaram aayinthandi- He passed away long ago”
    ”Sorry, wrong numberandi”
    Anonymous call  2:
    ” My cup- ice cream, if you don’t meet me this evening in the park, I will jump into the well and this is a promise.”
    “My cone- ice cream, tell me the location of the well before you jump into. Let me collect a bucket of water.”
    “Sorry Sir, wrong number. My apologies for calling you  an ice cream; you are an ice block”
    Ammalu’s call  :
    ” For the past half an hour, I find the phone is engaged. Tell me with whom were you gossiping  in my absence?”
    “Wrong number, Ammalu”
    ”Number is not wrong. I married a wrong person”.
    ”Ammalu, oh,  it is you? Trust me. I was not dialing but answering a series of wrong calls”
    ”Then why did you say wrong call when I dialed?”
    ”Because the two words, ‘wrong call’, heard repeatedly, got imprinted in my my mind, and emerged instantly when your call came .”
    ” Is my husband such an unwise man to say, ‘wrong number, Ammalu’ ? Why that ‘Ammalu’ there, when you didn’t knew that it was my call? “
    ”That is because your name got embedded much deeper in my mind and along with every word and phrase, it emerges like a wave on the surface of the a pool when a stone is thrown into the waters”
    ” I called you just to hear some such nonsense . Thank you”.
  • "Follow me closing your eyes"

     
     
    It was my younger brother Vicha, who underwent a cataract surgery just a few weeks ago, who woke me up before this day-break and led me to our home sanctum to view the simple Vishukkani, I had assembled the previous night.
     
    “Anna, kannai moodikkindu va”. ” Follow me closing your eyes” -that was the meaning for what he said.  That was what I have been asked to do by my mother when I was a child and later by my wife, while leading me to view the Vishukkani.” What is there to worry, when you are holding my hand?” I ask him, appreciating his gesture.
     
    I open my eyes and see first the smiling face of Guruvayoorappan with a flute in hand, a lovely peacock-feathered crown on the head and several garlands around the neck, presiding over the assembly, occupying the place of honor.  He is dark blue in colour, his apparel golden yellow. The ancestral brass lamp, which would have brightened vishukkanies for generations in our family, is there, spreading a divine aroma, sponsored by the ghee it was carrying. Though It has, in no time, brightened the pictures and idols and the assembly of Vishukkani, the old lamp shyly denies, moving its wavy flames, any role for it, in the emancipation.  ”It is the melody from His flute the cause of awakening  all these objects”
     
    I know it is true. The lamp is only an instrument to carry and spread light. The source of light is elsewhere. 
     
    Then, I view the materials assembled in a brass uruli, a round vessel with a thick frame, again an ancestral asset. Neither that golden bunch of kanikkonnai nor the fragrant ripe, jack fruit- halves are there. A thin layer of discontentment paints my face.
     
    ”Why fruits or flowers, when I am here? ” I thought  Krishna was asking me, amidst his enchanting smile, when I shut my eyes for a moment to press reverently  my eyelids with a gold coin picked from the silver bowl. That coin with the picture of Mahalakshmi was bequeathed by my ancestors and it would have blessed several eyes which are now shut for ever.
     
    ” True, I told Him . “You are the flower of my life and fruit of my actions, Bagavan!”.
     
    After an hour or so, I went to the Ayyappa shrine close by. ” As you know it is for this divine vision that I postponed my USA trip by a week, my Lord !” I told him. I have a habit of telling gods what they already know. Then I pleaded, “make my journey and stay there comfortable ;  I should not become a burden for my children.”.
     
     ” Kannai moodikkindu va-just follow me closing your eyes!” said the Lord. How great ! What other assurance do I need for a long journey and an indefinte stay in a foreing land ? What is here to worry when He leads me holding my hand?  Reverently, I took  the Vishukaineettam, a rupee coin,  given by the Lord through the hands of the Nambudiri priest, to my eyes, praying, “may I be here again next year too to  have your Vishupunyakala darsanam and receive the Vishukkani coin from you, Bagavan!”
    “Kannai moodikkindu va” . No, He didn’t say that. A moonlight smile flashed on His face. Who knows its meaning ? In fact it is a blessing that we are not able to read the meaning of the smiles of the gods.  
  • I am the front wall

    ” Let us discus this issue here, now. Every one talks only about you in our colony. “Ammalu said this; Ammalu said that”.  Am I a nonentity here? Or is it that you say everything and I hear like a fool. Am I your husband or you mine?”
    ”What do you want me to do ? Go and tell every one that your are my husband ?”
    ” You come for a walk in the evening and walk behind me. Let the world now that I lead you and you follow me.”
    ”We seldom go out together and I never walk holding your hand. If you desire, I shall issue an ad. in the local paper declaring that you are my husband and heads this family”
    ” Don’t do that. A man’s market value goes down, once people know that he is married.Talk to your friend Ammini; she has some brain”
    “Every one in this colony, except me, is brainy for you. That is OK. Now hear carefully. How does a neighbor help a stranger to locate our house? ‘The house where you will find a jasmine plant clinging to the front wall’. Right?    If he says that ‘ a house with a front wall’, he is  either your friend or friend of your friend Goplan Nair.
    I am just a jasmine creeper clinging on you and you are the front wall. What else do you need?”
    “Oh, now I have realized my importance. I am the front wall.”

  • Why spend a fortune on hearing aids?

    ” Your hearing capacity is dwindling day by day and I’m tired of shouting. Seek an appointment with our audiologist today and buy a pair of hearing aid.”
    ” Ammalu, Your mother has a long tongue and a short foresight”
    ” That is how I landed here. Are you not going for the pensioners meet today?”
    ”You attend the wedding and pass on a small gift and plenty of my blessings to the couple. Pick up a five Rupee note from the god’s hundi, put in an colorful envelope and hand over without writing our name. I don’t want you to cheat the god by stealing his money. Drop a coin, not in circulation, before collecting the cash belonging to him.”
    ” I know from where to pick up the cash without any replacement. You have a dozen new clothes in the wardrobe. Discard this shirt which is almost of your age and dress up decently, at least when you go out”
    ”The King Dasarath had four sons and not three. You don’t have this basic information and want to talk on Ramayanam in your club meet !
    ”That Rakshasi, your ex-steno Asundari called twice last evening”
    ”Did she? Why didn’t you tell me yesterday itself. You are too possessive of me”
    ”I am more possessive of my money. No need to spend a fortune on hearing aids. Your ears are sharper than mine.”

  • Perinkulam car festival musing part 2

    • The Kerala Agraharams, colonies of the Brahmins of Tamil origin, are of a unique style. Many of the houses are being sold now and the new houses which come up, have no resemblance to the old ones, constructed under different circumstances, long ago. The Kerala Govt has declared the Kalpathy agraharam as the first heritage village in the State and we have to wait and watch how long the identity will be maintained.
      Security, understandably, was the main concern when the agraharams were built by the migrants. The houses are adjacent to each other with common walls on left and right and arranged in parallel lines facing each other, so that in case of burglary or attack from an outsider, the entire village could be awaken by shouting, as the primitives used to do. There was no better instrument to collect crowd than yelling, in the absence of powerful lights or other communication system like telephones. Every one knew who lived in the other houses unlike the occupants of the present flats where the next door neighbor remains a stranger.The arrangement was so ‘open’ that no guest could come and go without the knowledge of the entire agraharam. In an ‘open’ society, it helped socialization, mutual dependance, which were essential.They had plenty of time at their disposal unlike the present generation and they needed each others help. The whole agraharam was like a big single house, having separate kitchens.
      The slope-roofed and duct-tiled tops of the houses facilitated speedy drainage of rain waters .The absence of windows opening outside, on the side walls, to a great extent, was made good by providing an opening to the sky in the central roof, through which sunlight could enter the house. The rain water pouring through this opening was collected in a big square pit, called ‘kottathalam’, granite slabs on the sides and bottom, insulating the dampness and a provision made to drain the water through an underground canal to the backyard.. A big brass vessel filled with water used to be kept near that, for washing hands and legs and a basket with viboothy would be hanging from a raft on the side, as the holy ash was required for smearing on the body thrice a day and for some, even before going to bed. There was hardly any furniture, except an easy chair for the elderly or a book rack. Chairs were luxury and even cots, unless unavoidable again for the comfort of the elders. The floors were extremely smooth and shining and it was a pleasure to lie flat on them during summer or on a grass mat, during the summer. In the absence of electrical fans, palm- leaf fans were kept handy along with palm- leaf umbrellas, for protection from the sun and the rains. The main doorway was not very wide or tall and one has to submissively bend his head while entering the house. ‘Aam’, house, was an ‘Aalayam’, shrine for them. Even the agraharam was respectable and those wear sandals for long walk, which was necessity and habit, used to remove them while entering the village. The memory of my father removing the sandals at the entry point of the first village in the series, is still vivid in my memory. He was not ashamed, to hold the feet -protectors, to cover the distance of three agraharams, before entering ours, the last one. ‘These have been shouldering my weight throughout; why don’t I carry them for a short distance ?”, was his comment.
      There was no platform in the kitchen and the cooking was done in fire-wood stoves, ‘aduppus’, sitting on the floor. There was no chimney for throwing out the smoke which was allowed to exit through big windows facing the back yard. The toilets were away, in the backyard and for old people it was a task to get down the steps and approach the toilets especially during night hours, an inconvenience tolerated without a murmur.
      The frontage of the house had a raised platform, called ‘thinnai’, the floor nicely polished . Thinnais used to open to the street . That was an area for receiving the guests, for relaxation, children’s studies and holding meeting with friends and co-villagers, where issues of common interests were discussed and decision taken. Big gatherings used to be held in the temple premises. Two vertical small platforms, projected from the thinnai, towards the main street, where women used to sit and enjoy the evening sun and breeze and keeping an eye on those moving on the street or entering or exiting from any house. If you enter the Kalpathy heritage village, these thinnais, uniformly laid, will be the first catch of your eyes and they add beauty . The frontage of every house was decorated with fresh ‘kolam’ every morning, artistically drawn in geographical and mathematical patterns with rice powder during special occasions or ‘kola podi’ powdered sand lime, on other days, after cleaning the area with water and occasionally cow-dung, believed to have anti-septic properties and hence provides a literal threshold of protection for the home. The rice powder provides food for ants and other small insects and birds. Apart from the decorative and insect-helping purposes, Kolam serves as a welcome board, for visitors including the most-welcome woman, the goddess of wealth.
      The village ‘kovils’ ( temples ) which our forbears constructed as a part of their colony, nay, as a crown of it, was the main center for individual and collective worship, though every house had a small shrine of its own. Weddings and other auspicious social activities too took place under its roof or in its premises. My first sister’s wedding was conducted some fifty years ago in our temple and the scene of women folk preparing snacks like murukku, sitting on the thinnai of Pakku mama’s house, opposite to the temple, appears vividly in my mind. The women sat around a clean white sheet spread on the floor of the ‘thinnai’ and with amazing dexterity of fingers, they rolled and twisted the carefully prepared dough and in no time appeared several uniformly twisted circles surrounding a short cone made of the same dough with a pottu, kukum dot, to represent the god Ganapathy, remover of obstacles. Chuppani mama and other villages prepared food in a corner of the temple, using huge vessels. When the food was ready, we had to go to each house and invite the inmates to come for food, though a formal personal invitation was made on the previous evening. But every one used to happily participate actively, as if it was his family wedding. I don’t remember the invitees presenting any cash as git, to the newly-wed.The cash-starved brahmins, naturally avoided, gifts other than their blessings, which alone was fondly sought for.
      Agraharams , other than on the river banks, like Kalpathy, have at least one pond, which was the main source for bathing and washing clothes in the old days. There used to be a common well near the pond, as the one we have in the Perinkulam pond. My other used to collect water from that well and carry the pot through the village street everyday, like other women . As a child, I had observed the womenfolk carrying big bundles of clothes for washing to the pond and their men walking happily going to the pond for their body wash, with a ‘thothumunu’, small cloth on their shoulder. It is unfortunate that many of these ponds, constructed with great care and dedication, which served the society so well, are now neglected. Ponds, add beauty to the agraharams even now and are still useful. These water bodies must be protected.
      It appears that while the migrants gathered to construct agraharams, they chose mostly their own sub groups, like Ashtasahasram, vadamal etc, which had prominence those days. Marriages used to be only among the members of the same subgroup and it is surprising that even now, some parents insists on ‘vadamal only’ as in the case in my Pitchumani story. But such out- of- date conditions are peeling off now as it has become difficult to find matches even from the same caste.
      The annual car festivals were imported from the land of their origin, another unique practice of the migrants. The villagers settled far, too enthusiastically participate in the ‘ther’ in their village, as I try to do.
      Kerala Brahmins, also worship in ‘kavus’, the shrines of Goddess Parvathy, who s the ‘kula deivam’ for many families. The ‘kavus do not have chariots and their annual celebration is called ‘vela’ or ‘pooram’ . Chariots are unique for the agraharam kovils, following the tradition in Tamil Nadu, from where the Brahmins migrated. In fact the chariots are perhaps the only link remaining now between the migrants and their earlier place of dwelling. They have left ‘kootu kari’ and switched over to ‘ molakoottal, kalan, olan’ but continue to hold on, happily to ratholsavams and kalyana sampradayam, wedding style of their Tamil days.
      When they arrived at a new place for settlement , it is natural that our ancestors had to seek Divine intervention and blessings for their new life . They found the Bagavathy shrines in the forests, ideal place for the purpose. If not the Divine Mother, who else would help those hapless families? They surrendered to Bagavathies of those little shrines and behaved as if she was their mistress and as a token of their subservience to the Goddess, they placed a small amount as ‘padipanam’ just as the small kings used to pay ‘kappam to the emperor. I had carried a small gold coin as an offering to our kuladeivam, Cherunetturi Bagavathy which wanted to place on the steps of her shrine. The priest asked me to get it receipted in the dewaswam office, before placing before the deity. The office manager told me that now a days, devotees are offering big amount as ‘padipanam’ and sometime, it doesn’t reach the temple treasury. Obviously the Goddess do not collect them! No doubt that the kavus are shining better now with liberal contributions mostly from the non-Brahmin community.
      The Cherunattori Bagavathy holds a sword in her hand. The immigrants needed the support of that, as they themselves were not equipped with any weapons.
      I was elated that my youngest son, Srikanth, who got married in July last, attended the car festival along with his wife Hamsadwany. They both took active part in the festival. Later I took them to our Kuladeivam. My younger brother whose eye sight has been eroded by cataract and feet have become unsteady due to high blood sugar also could participate in the celebration and worship in Kavu. I was also happy to meet a few net friends, who recognized me .
      Here below, is a link for some pictures shot on her mobile by my daughter in law. Hope you like the pictures.
      https://plus.google.com/photos/100181391920104500875/albums/5851336851029972289?authkey=CN7TiL3x2OrdxQE
  • some stress-relieving techniques

    If your horse is tired of running, allow it to roll in the mud for a while. The horse is fit to run miles again.
    If your elephant is tired of working, allow it get into a pond and have a complete self-shower, collecting water through its long nose and splashing all over its body. The jumbo is fit for hard work again.
    If you are tired of your rat-racing in daily life, there are numerous ways to relax. Some are:
    1. Spend a few minutes looking at the rising or setting son, blooming flower, splashing sea-waves, squirrels chasing one another and playing around a tree, the cow innocently gazing at you with her wide eyes, children playing in the hot sun, an old woman sitting on the veranda of her house and smiling alone thinking of her duals with her husband when he was alive and so on.
    2. Close the doors, sit alone and sing a song you are familiar with or recite a mantra loudly, laugh loudly or simply sit musing on your childhood plays, pranks and friends.
    3.watch the mood of your wife and if she is for a game, play Rummy, if she is familiar with that game or simply sit close to her, enjoying her fingers and palm. The best medicine is to carry her on your shoulder and walk inside the house, making sure that the doors are closed. Don’t worry about your children’s presence; they will enjoy the fun. I am sure that your madam will surely enjoy that act, but risk is for you if her weight is unbearable.
    4.Kids are the best stress-relievers. carry one on your shoulder and circumambulate your house or garden. Laugh loudly and the child too will laugh. Run now and the child will enjoy it more and laugh louder. You too laugh and keep running till you are tired . the child will never get tired. Drop the kid on the floor buy a chocolate or ice cream and you too can enjoy it along with the kid ,forgetting for a moment your blood- sugar value.
    There are several other ways open to us and tell me about them. I have tried all the above, except of course, one trick and you know what it is!

  • Perinkulam car festival musing

    This year’s Perinkulam car festival was of special significance for me, as my youngest son Srikanth along with his wife Hamsadwani, who are likely to leave shortly to US for higher studies, participated in the festival. I was on a happy high seeing them actively engaged in various activities , extending a helping hand to pull the chariot, to serve food etc.
    The chariot was advancing when I pulled and I was proud of my strength, for a while. Then, I noticed sweat oozing from the face and bare chest of my son and realized that it was not my strength alone that contributed to the advancement of the vehicle. I turned to my right and left and found there were many, stronger and younger ones,  pulling the thick rope and when I looked at the back of the chariot there was a huge jumbo pushing with all its strength!
    There was not a drop of sweat on my forehead or face or chest! So, I was just holding the rope when others pulled it !
    Standing on the veranda of his house, an youngster was encouraging the procession, waving his ‘angavastram’, small cloth and shouting,’aa,aa’. He didn’t bother to come down his steps and give a helping hand.
    Chariots won’t advance by touching the rope or screaming, ‘aa,aa’. Combined efforts are needed for any advancement, whether of a chariot carrying an idol or of a family or society holding many human beings.
    I was, anyway, happy that I could be present there at least to touch the chariot.
    “Thank you Krishna for making this possible for me. I have no strength left in my weak body to pull your chariot.” I prayed silently and looked down to see whether there were any foot-prints of my father and grand father who would have, with no sandals on their feet and no shirt on their body, pulled the chariot. Had the dark tar not covered  the mud roads, I would have been able to see their foot prints, I thought.
    Nanvaneetha Krishna laughed. ”Looking for the foot prints of your forbears when your offspring is right in front of you, pulling my chariot along with you?” He asked.
    I lifted my eyes and looked at His face. He smiled.

  • Just to compare the thrust-impact

    ”Sit on my lap, if you don’t mind, Ammalu.”
    “WHAT? Say again”
    “I said that your face is glowing like the Brasso-polished brass lamp in our home-shrine”
    “Was that exactly what you said ? Sharpen your memory and try to recollect, please.”
    ” Not that exactly. I suggested that it would be nice if you could sit on my lap. It was just a suggestion.”
    “How many women have you seen, during your recent tour, sitting on their husbands’ lap?”
    ”Not on their husbands’ lap, exactly—”
    ”On others lap, right? And you were one among those men, Right?”
    ”EXACTLY. How did you guess it so accurately, Ammalu?”
    “WHAT ? You allowed another woman to sit on your lap?”
    ”I didn’t allow. She forced her way towards me in a crowded train and occupied my lap.”
    ” I trust you now, as I do always. Tell me what happened exactly.”
    ” A three day strike paralyzed the Palakkad private bus services and I had to travel in an unreserved train compartment , from Kuttipuzha almost standing either on my feet or on others’, up to Ottappalam, where I managed to squeeze in a small gap, in between two well-built men, who, as I correctly guessed were going to Chennai for a cinema shooting. A jet-black complexioned middle aged woman, in no way lesser in weight than the cinema stars on my sides, extravagantly draped with colorful clothes, her mouth blood-reddish due to pan-chewing, boarded our compartment, followed by a puny man, with unshaven face and in untidy clothes and again, as I correctly guessed, her husband. The woman, spread her vision all around and it was not difficult for her sharp eyes to spot me struggling in between two jumbos.
    ‘Konjam  othikko Koundarae-move a bit please, Kounder”, She ordered.
    ” WHAT? Koundarae?” I yelled, wondering why she addressed me so and offered a clarification to remove her misunderstanding. ” I am not a kounder and there was not a single kounder in my paternal or maternal lineage.”
    ”She laughed so loud that even the boxers on my sides were shaken. Without waiting for another moment, the big woman majestically boarded my lap, sat comfortably, allowing her entire weight to rest on my legs and started singing, clapping her hands, for the merriment of her husband and the boxers on my sides, while I was crumpling under her weight.
    “Pollatchi chanthayilae puliynakaai vikkapponana_My husband went to sell tamarind seeds in the Pollatchy market,
    Enpurushan Muthatchykkoundanavan sethatcu- my husband Muthatchi kounden passed away.
    Aavaiya vandhavan nee Aiyarentru sollathae- you are his ghost and don’t say that you are an Iyer.
    Poyyaimattum sollathae, pozhailae thooki pottuduvaen-if you lie, I will thrown you into the river.”
    The Bharatha puzha was silently running along us and I didn’t want to be thrown into it, by her mighty hands. I sat silently tolerating her weight on my legs without saying a word.
    The heavenly Palakkad station, where I was to alight, came and I politely asked her to alight from my lap and allow me to disembark. She got up, held me by a hand, when the puny husband came closer to me and whispered into my ears, “Sami, paithiyamunka- she has a mental disorder and I am taking her to Coimbatore for treatment – Sorry for the inconvenience caused by my wife”
    I told him, ‘parava illai koundarae- it is OK”, as if every day I encounter such problems.
    ‘Sami, en purushan kancham kirukkuinka- my husband is insane- I am taking him to Coimbatore for treatment.’  Saying so, she dropped me on  the platform and I walked down towards the exit gate without turning back.
    ‘Ammalu, this is what happened and you should sympathize for my ordeals”
    ”I do. But tell me, why did you, soon after returning from your trip, the moment you entered home, ask me to board your lap?”
    “Oh, that was just to compare the thrust -impact.”
    “I trust you and I am relaxed. I was worried whether I should take you to Coimbatore for treatment.”

  • "You are certainly not the one I had met".

    “Madam, I am sure we have met somewhere. Ootty, Olavakkode, Orlando, Ottappalam?”
    ” No, I had never been to any of those places. My pet dog Drousy did visit all the four places on a pleasure trip.”
    ”You mean to say that I am an animal which can’t distinguish a woman from a dog?”
    ” Oh, now I remember. ‘My hubby too had been to those places once.”
    ” You mean to say that I am insane who can’t distinguish a man from a woman?”
    “You are both. You promised to marry me but eloped with another girl”.
    “I am extremely sorry. I crave your pardon for mistaking you for another woman. You are certainly not the one I had met in those places”.

  • You are welcome now to stay in this town



    ” Is there none who believes in truth, in this town?”
    ” why?”
    “When I say that I am a honest man, no one believes”
    “Oh, that is because there are no honest men here”
    “So, this town needs me”
    “Not at all. Because, you speak truth and there is none believing in truth here.”
    ”you are confusing me”
    ”Say truth; then you won’t be confused”
    “I don’t speak truth always”
    ” Now I am not confused and you are not confused. Welcome friend, to stay in this town”