Category: A12.01 About me

Sharath, who took me to the USCIS office for the interview enquired the officer whether he could be with me inside, as I might have problem to follow her pronunciation.

‘Don’t worry,’ assured the charming lady smiling, ‘your dad will be fine’.

Here, all officials smile and speak sweetly. Even a doctor conveying to the cancer patient that his days are limited will
flash a sweet smile and tell him, ‘oh, lucky you are! You have three more months to enjoy your life!’.
A techie with twenty years of service was shown the door one fine evening unceremoniously. His CEO came out of her chamber to bid him farewell, hugged him and lamented, ‘we will miss you from tomorrow. Enjoy life’

Enjoyment indeed! That poor man has three school going children and commitments of monthly loans-repayments for house, two cars, three sofa sets, four kitchen garden, five garden tools etc with no saving in the bank!

Here, the youngsters don’t worry about ‘tomorrow’.
They don’t save a cent for the future. Why should they? The banks don’t pay even 1% interest!

The immigration officer led me to her chamber and after making me comfortable in a seat, showed me a piece of paper and asked whether I could read and copy down the one sentence, typed on it.

It was like asking BakAsura whether he would like to have a lamb leg for lunch!

‘One sentence?’, I almost got up from my seat and told her,
‘Madam, I’m a writer. I have a blog with hundreds of followers. I write amazing poetry. Shall I recite a poem applauded by half of the world?’

Without waiting for her approval, I got up from my seat and raising my right hand, as if I was on a stage before a big audience, started;

‘Moon, your music flows in my inner stream, what a melody!’

That was the least response she expected from an old man who
wanted a guide in the interview chamber!

‘Incredible!’ She applauded, convinced of my English proficiency but still asked me to read and write that single sentence. Rule is rule and here everyone follows it, except the mad guys who shoots down people for no reason!

The question session was a child’s play, rather an old man’s play.
I answered all the five questions she asked, accurately, interspersed with interesting jokes.

The next job was to ask me questions related to my personal behavior, family relationship etc, for which I had already given replies, but she had to verify whether my oral answers tallied with my written replies.

Two sample questions :

1-How many times have you been married (including annulled marriages, marriages to other people, and marriages to the same person)?
2- How many times has your current spouse been married (including annulled marriages, marriages to other people, and marriages to the same person)? If your current spouse has been married before, provide the following information about your current spouse’s prior spouse.

Irrelevant for me but it was her duty to ask. I had to reply ‘no’ and she had to ‘tick’ those entries having verified! That is the rule and everybody follows the rule here, except—!

My son who was waiting outside was worried. ‘Is she grilling dad and is he struggling to answer?’, was his worry, whereas inside, we both were happily discussing about general issues like Indian family bond and English literature!

After full forty five minutes, the charming lady, came out with me holding my hand and handing over me to my son said, ‘your dad did a good job. Congrats ‘

After a couple of days, Megh took me for the ‘oath taking’.

She was keenly watching my facial expression worrying weather I would be able to withstand the mental strain while
uttering the oath dictated.

“I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty, of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen; that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform noncombatant service in the Armed Forces of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God.”

I did take the oath, with choked throat.

‘Are you OK, dad?’, enquired Megh while coming out of hall, though she knew that I was not all that ‘OK’.

‘Compromise in life, at times becomes a necessity,’ I told her.
And told myself: ‘you didn’t do a favour to your children but only ensured that you don’t land in a vrudhasramam, old age home’

Sr

Srikanth had given me many pleasant surprises.

During his high school or Early college studies he used to go to churches on Sundays to teach children or for some such service. When it became a regular practice, I prepared myself mentally to receive a Theresakutty or Mary mol as an additional member in the family who would enquire, ‘appatchannu egg omelette veno or fish omeletto?’ ( you prefer egg omelette or fish omelette, dad?’ )

To my surprise, he brought home a wonderful girl who speaks our language and follow our customs. In fact a step further-no silk wear, no milk products !

On his first home coming after joining the Kanchi Engineering college, he said, ‘appa, I want a panchapatram and Mantrapushpam pusthakam. Panchapatram is the copper vessel we use for the Sandhya and Manthrapushpam is the title of a Sanskrit book of Vedic hymns.

I couldn’t believe my ear! My son asking for a Panchapatram!

My sons, who used to wake up on their cradles every morning hearing the sound of my pooja bell ringing, were least interested in religious rituals, then ( now the situation has changed, thanks to the influence of their better haves!😳)
I was therefore the happiest father when they agreed not only to sit for their wedding, in traditional wear but also go through the entire rituals happily. About that later, but why Panchapatram now?

Srikanth clarified that the first year students had to do Sandhya and learn some hymns, in his college under the aegis of the Kanchi Mutt.

Srikanth and Meena accompanied me to Perinkulam for the car festival. None of my children had visited our ancestral village except during their early days, when I would have taken them. I was therefore extremely happy. My young days , when I used to serve food along with my father, for the villagers attending the festival came to my mind. I can tell you, a unique joy it was to watch Sri. and Meena bending and serving food, fast, continuously, without spilling on the floor or they themselves slipping and falling, as it was a new experience for them. Even I could not bend and serve for more than about fifty people! Srikanth even could successfully tie the thick coir rope around the waist if the chariot, supported by my cousin! When they pulled the rope of the chariot along with me I was moved with emotion. My ancestors would have been really on cloud nine, seeing their progeny pulling the chariot of the god they had worshipped.

Before going to bed, read my scholar friend KVA’s post ( which I never miss ) and learned that tomorrow is Karkitakam first day, the beginning of what we call Ramayanamasam, which has already started for you in India today.

Remember my father. He used to read AdyAtma RAmAyanam of Tunjathu aacharyan, reverently every night during this month, as is vogue in Kerala.
After closing his shop at 9/9.30 at night, he used to go to his mother, sit by her side, enquire about her health and what she ate etc, make her bed, ( though it would have already been made by my mother, give her an income and account statement for the day, just to give her an emotional happiness and satisfaction that her only son was taking her into confidence in his business activities!

Then, he used to go to the huge well at backyard, which we used to call, ‘kamlAlayam’ due to its pure water stock, which never got depleted, pour a few bucket of chill water over his head, change the clothes, apply vibhoothy prominently all on usual parts of the body, sit before the big brass lamp and then slowly, in his melodious tone recite Sundarakandam a chapter or a part of it as per certain prescribed schedule.

‘Kathaya mama, kathaya mama, Kathakal athisAdaram
KAkulstha leekakal kettAl madivaraa’ ——

That melody still flows in my mind.

As a respectful remembrance to my father, I have started today teaching Malayalam alphabets to my grandchildren.
I would like them to learn as many languages as possible so that they will be able to enjoy the wealth of literature in those languages.

For me, may be by an act of Providence, I have started singing divyanAnasamkeerthanam songs of Thyagaraja, where Rama namam blossoms many times in each song !

 

I have relatives to call me, ‘Appa’, ‘ThAtha’, ‘Anna’, ‘mama’, ‘Athimbar’, ‘Periappa’ etc.

My parents used to call me, ‘Konthai’

I don’t miss their call, as my daughter calls me, ‘Konthai’.

She calls me ‘dadde’ too or ‘Konthai de’, when my disobedience goes beyond a level.
And finally she gains her cool and says in a soft voice, ‘Appa, chonnathai koncham kekkarela?’ Will you please hear what I say?

That ‘please’ shows how adjustable she is to my adamancy!

How nice of my wife to have gifted me a daughter too, to call me, ‘konthai’, as my parents used to do! I don’t, therefore, miss my parents. I don’t miss my wife too, when I see my daughter, though my wife never called me,’konthai’.

Once or twice a month, I used to visit the nearby Greater Baltimore temple but had never participated in the evening Bajans, mostly on Sundays and other important days. I used to sit quietly in a corner, enjoy the bajan in Hindi, participate in the Arti, collect Prasadam and come back, uncared and unnoticed by others, except the lovely gods on the raised platform and one or two close friends of Megh, who knows me personally.

Last evening, suddenly, I became someone worth noticing.
This was what happened:
After Ananya’s sweet rendering of Hanuman Chalisa and the songs of Nikhil and a few more kids ( after making sure that no kids were left behind), Megh asked me whether I would like to sing. I moved near the bajan group from my corner seat and sang one or two songs and handed over the mike back to the usual bajan mandali.

After the harti, a few people approached me with folded hands to say some good words about my song or to take my blessings as North Indians invariably do when they meet an elderly person . Even in the lunch hall, the respect for me in the eyes of some was visible. After dinner when Megh was helping other womenfolk to clean the dining hall, I was relaxing on a bench. Then too, some women, instead of passing through carelessly before an old man, noticed me and said a few kind words in English or Hindi . Not a small achievement!

Megh didn’t say a word, good or bad, about my songs. There were not many, except a Telugu couple settled here for the past 41/2 decades in the group familiar with Carnatic music as the audience was from the North, West or Eastern parts of our country. My intelligent machine started rolling in full swing. Was it not the silvery white woolen shawl which wrapped my shoulders, the real recipient of the respect of the admirers? Feeling lazy to wear the coat which had to be buttoned up, I had picked up one of the shawls before boarding the car, expecting least that it would provide me a look of a Sangeetha Vidwan!

The gods on the platform would have, however, appreciated my songs as it were they who made me a singer and I sing only their story and glory.

Incidentally I have been asking my grandchildren to teach me one or two English songs. They don’t seem to be much interested as they are well aware of my English standard and aptitude for music.

Had I not fallen sick, I would have Pleaded with them to teach me a few steps of the western style dance too. Wrong time now. One leg may go towards the front, the other one towards the back which might expedite my moving towards up and before that down!

But, I would suggest youngsters to study at least the preliminary of the dance steps. It is not the monopoly of girls. Boys too should learn. It will help them to synchronize the body movements, improve blood circulation and strengthen heart, hands, legs and tone up the body.

And it will be a real fun if both wife and husband know dancing, not only for their children but for the neighbors too, if they happen to live in flats, which is common in cities nowadays!

PS-
In the picture, Ananya practicing at home for a program in her school. She did well.

 

 

You may be away from your parental village, far, far away, but when you are in India, do visit and pay respects to your gramadevadas and contribute a token amount to the temple, which would have been a thanneer pandal or an alamaram for your parents.

While in India, I do visit Perinkulam and Kavassery, once a year at least and positively attend the Perinkulam car festival. One of the happiest and blessed moments in my life was when I could circumambulate Krishna Swamy’s ratham, holding a board bearing my ‘NamAmi nithyam Navaneetha Krishnam ‘ stuthi and display it on the outer wall of the temple.

I used to spend an evening or two, on the bank of the Chooriappan kulam, sitting in isolation, watching the cremation ground opposite to me, where the bodies of my ThAtha, and a few relatives would have been converted to ashes and my one year old Eder brother buried.
‘This is for you all’, I used to say, dipping my head and body into the waters of Chooriyappan kulam, before getting out of that place.
All said and done, one’s attachment to his root, is amazing.