Author: shivam

“Choottu, chirattai, pakkuvetty, parupputhengai, pattakkudai, poottu, kadalai, karuveppilai thogayal–“
I see your raising eyebrows and bulging eyes flashing the question silently, ” Who threw a stone into the blissfully silent waters of Perinkulam, to disturb our peace?”
Who else could it be other than my Panthalam friend, who makes every objects under the sun, his subjects and parade them before us sometimes well-clothed and many time devoid of clothing? My shrunken memory and starving word power are ill- equipped to write about even the few items mentioned above and therefore, sigh in relief, I shall quit the scene after saying a few words  only about the first in the list-the indigenous hand torch made out of  dry wastes fallen from coconut trees.
The first time I saw the choottu velicham was, as an young boy, while returning along with my cousin, after watching a late show in the Alathur Swathy Cinema theater. A known elderly person from our village was passing through the outskirt, waving his choottu and attracted by the sparkles produced by it when he moved his hand holding it,  I inquired my cousin, ” what is that magic wand,  producing glamorous sparks from the burning end?”  My cousin, elder to me by an year or two, was naturally wiser and as all elders do, instead of answering my query,  replied with a half-concealed  smile, “oh, mama is going for ‘sambandham” . I knew then neither the meaning of that word ‘sambandham’ nor the reason that prompted him to smile. Later,I was forced to make a detailed study on that word, its meaning and implications, when no girl of my caste came forward to marry me and  my dear Appa, with all the concern for the comforts of his son thundered, “Poi sambandham vechukkoda” . That was not, however necessary,as, by that time, an innocent girl committed the most serious mistake in her life, by agreeing to become my wife. Appa, while giving me that permission, had perhaps in his mind, the history of our family too- two of my ancestors had sambandham, for valid reasons, of course.
I became familiar with choottu later and longed to hold it myself, though I was not permitted , while Appa used to take me to the Kallaikkulangara Bagavathy temple, for watching kathakali dance shows during the Sivarathy festival. It was a pleasure to follow him, crossing the hillock, near the Olavakkode railway track, just a few yards away from our house, guided by the choottu velicham , flowing from rhythmic waving of his hand. The dance shows were there consecutively for nine nights and I never used to miss a single show , not because that I enjoyed all the shows but there was a thrill in trekking the hard rock and treading across the mud -foot path bordering the paddy fields, on the way to the temple, enjoying the sparkles of the choottu and the sound emanating from the  night birds and insects.
While returning early morning , after the night shows, dazed and dull, the pathetic cry for help, from a low caste, dark skinned,  Nayadi woman, used to penetrate my heart. Her dry, dangling- breasts , dirty, black loin cloth which struggled to touch her knee, damaged nose  and drooping  frame were unbearable and  standing down the hill, far away from our pathway, she used to shrill, ‘thamburakkale, visakkunnu-master, I am hungry”. Appa  used to throw small coins towards her direction and sometime some old clothes too which she used to grab as if she were seeing such articles for the first time in her life.
“While Sri Krishna and Arjuna are well -fed and glamorously dressed why does this female be  so ill-nourished and inadequately clothed ?” I used to ask myself.
That was long, long ago.
The dry, dark,  broomstick -like, choottu is not to be seen now. Only its subtle smile lingers in the heart. But I continue to hear the pathetic shrill cry of that Nayadi woman, seeking for a morsel of food or a meter of cloth to cover the nakedness, from several other women ,men, and children from far and near.
And I pose now, almost the same question which I used to ask as a child, to myself, though for comparison, I do not need the glamorous kathakali characters..
Hyderabad,
October 31, 2010

Donation of eyes, organs and dead body to others
Any religious book or spiritual guide or any sastram, neethy which prohibits donating our eyes, blood, kidney or even the entire body for the benefit of others, deserves ignoring.
It is the soul which takes rebirth and not the unwanted , deteriorated, dumped as useless and then burnt or buried,disgusting garbage called body.
Pray let that not happen to any one who disagree with me that they or the one closed to them  land in a situation where they have to ask for the organ of others. In the unfortunate event of it happening, they will realize that they were wrong.
If you do not want to offer your organ to others none can compel you; but do not try to justify it on rebirth or other belief.
One of  the basic principles of our culture is paropakaaram-
helping others.
‘paropakaaraatha midam sareeram”
Twenty five youngsters came running from my organisation when large quantity of blood was reaquired for my wife, who underwent a major surgery. I did not ask for their caste or religion, before their blood was drawn- and the blood was all of the same colour!
July, 10th 2010
The request for forwarding this article seeking help for the lesser fortunate ones among us, from a relative of mine, happened to catch my eyes, among scores of mails, lying unattended in my in-box as I have been busy  with my family activities, after my return from abroad. I pass this on for the attention of those who are blessed with a kind heart , who can afford to help and even if they cannot afford as in my case, pass on to others so that some one in some corner will come forward to donate an eye or any other requirement of AJFTLE .
It is possible that you may come across some scholars who are determined to reach their heavenly aboard, leaving their body in tact, with all the organs made available to them by the divinity, when they entered this mundane world. Do not be angry with them. They have a point. The body is constituted of  the elements of Nature and therefore they are eager it to return it to the Nature without any structural deficiency, which is bound to happen if any organ is removed for re- plantation elsewhere. But the body does degenerate and it is  impossible to give back to the Nature, in the same condition it was handed over to us. But those learned men might still have some ways of returning their worldly possession unscathed . Wish them well but push them aside if they stand on your way. Push them gently as otherwise they might fall and crack their skull which may necessitate carrying them in an ambulance driven by a paraya and get the surgery done by a pulaya, the untouchable avarnas. Not only that they might need blood in the course of the surgical intervention and there is no blood bank which labels blood according to the donar’s ‘varna’ or caste . So push them gently but do push them and you may use a ‘visary’ or bamboo fan for the purpose, as some of our sanyasis do to clear way in a crowd.
Being the Karkitaka masam, I read Thunchthacharaya’
s Ramayanam, for a few minutes everyday whenever time permits. I pray to that great Brahmin, born in the womb of an ‘avarna’ woman, who could see the God in every movable and immovable things, to bestow me with at least a micro unit of his wisdom and vision.
Open my eyes, Baghavan and when you close them for ever, let my progeny have the will to donate them to someone, who will have better use for them. I am sure that in my further journey, You will become my eyes. And my Jagatchatshusse, are there any better eyes than yourself?
July 20, 2010
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I am with GV. In fact, whenever I press the dollar button on my key board, though occasionally, a mild disappointment used to pinch a corner of my heart, ‘why are we not having our own symbol for the currency?’
Let us be proud of our achievements, though many times I feel that we could have done better. Let us be proud of our army and other wings of the security system, even our political, judiciary,press and all other National necessities, though there is a lot of scope for improvement. Let us think of ways of improving the existing system instead of condemning them.
We are a great nation; our people are great. ‘0h, from India!’ the yoga teacher in the Baltimore gym, exclaimed bringing his palms together towards his chest, when I was introduced to him by my son.
‘India, India!’ exclaimed a school girl in the NASA rocket station, whom I met and try to explain our achievement in the space technology.
‘INDIA, INDIA’ Let every one of us proclaim keeping our head high. We are great; believe me WE ARE GREAT.
And we will be the best in the world if we stand together and wipe of poverty and  illiteracy from this  ancient land.
Hyderabad
July, 28 2010
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Quote reluctantly:
“Over time, as the “Western wave” overtakes Indian identity, and turns it into just another extension of the universal “Ummah”, the rupee itself will disappear (as did the chakram and the panam), to be replaced by the Crescent and star on the obverse side, and the outsize “U”, representing the new Emma currency, on the front face”.
Unquote proudly:
Yes, Chakram and panam have disappeared and one day or the other, everything will disappear. That doesn’t mean that we should wish for the death of  any  creation, any new ideas, before it comes out of the maternity ward. Some people never leave their negative thoughts even when the temple bells ring. I am not with them. . The temple bells are also a symbol .The ring tones kindle your aspiration to reach the divine zone and your hope that the divine hands will remove the hurdles on your path . But the tones are not permanent. What is permanent in this world? That is a stupid question to throw at a scholar.
I am not with the  Durvasas  who curse anything, everything, anytime.
Let us work together to bring all the country men together, whether they wear panchgatcham or jeans pants and try to build a new India. We have enough ‘margadarses’ role models in our history for guidance. Durvasa is not among them. And I want to enjoy the sun-rise and sun set, standing on the beach and not runaway with the fear that the tsunami waves will swallow me anytime.
Hyderabad,
July, 29 2010
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Mama….well said…. I respect
Sent on my BlackBerry® from Vodafone
Kamesh
gk_sharma@yahoo.com
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V.Mahadevan
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Rajashree
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