Category: A12– Everything under the Sun

 
Thaipoosam on Sunday, Jan 24, 2016-said this morning, my brother Vicha from Hyderabad.
My father used to go to Pazhani every year for Thaipoosam festival and he used to carry me too, when I was a child. The Meter gauge train from Olavakkode would be overcrowded with pilgrims coming from North Malabar and I remember being pushed into the compartment through the window openings once or twice.
At Pazhani, we used to stay in Aiyer Satram where father used to meet a number of his old friends. I remember well the kavadi Attam on the streets of the holy town in groups, by many devotees. I was told that some devotees come from distant places, dancing all the way up to the hill. one among them was Ramanatha Iyer of Koottalai village, an ardent devotee of Muruga. I have not seen my father dancing in the group but have heard him singing. He voice was metallic and tunes perfect. One song, I distinctly remember is ‘Patchai mayil vaahanane,Shiva Balasubramanianae Va—‘, which he used to sing extremely well.
There was a bajan book with him, a collection of selected songs on Subramaniaswamy.
Appa used to buy one big tin full of Panchamritham and another tin packed with Viboothi. The problem was to transport those through the jam-packed meter gauge train with small compartments . Once, I remember, he pushed the two tins one by one through the window opening, into the hands of Sankara Aiyer with a big belly at the Pollachi station, where a connection train was to be boarded. Standing on the platform, Sankara Iyer collected the two tins, yelling, ‘oh, oh’ as they were heavy. The third one to be thrown into his hands was myself and he received me with a sigh of relief, ‘oh, kanam illai- what a light weight!’ I remember well the pose of Aiyer projecting his uncovered big, black belly and extended hands with wide spread legs and his apt facial expressions, as if heavy loads of sand or granite stones were to be emptied onto his hands. That picture is vivid, but sorry to say, not the graceful face and pose of the Lord in the sanctum. I could hardly see the Lord and the full throated calls of ‘Muruga, Muruga’ from the devotees and equally loud sounds of ‘Poyya, Poyya from the Pandarams, were disturbing.
Near the sanctum, wild sounds should not overtake our subdued, silent heartbeats, when we are in the presence of God. As a child, I had that feeling which continues even now. That might be the reason, why during Ayyappa Poojas, I quietly leave the premises, when someone shakes his body and trembles and screams, which they say is under the influence of Ayyappa. I can’t imagine God entering a human body for a short while, shake it from top to toe and discarding like a used olapadakkam, country cracker.
Kavadiaattams, the measured steps of the bare chested, Viboothi coated devotees carrying colourful little Kavadies were enjoyable. The music went well along with that. During one Kavadiaattam, one old man missed his steps badly and others made fun of him.
I remember someone telling me that the old man, out of utter humiliation bent down and picked up a handful of mud from the ground. It turned into brown sugar which was distributed as Prasadam to others! I didn’t see that miracle then and haven’t ever afterwards during any of my trips.
Climbing up and down the steps too, I enjoyed. It was a real fun, which I recalled when, a few years ago, I struggled to truck the hills. The night view of the hills was pleasing.
May Lord Subramania bless us all and our families and friends with good health, happiness and peaceful life.

 
 
 

Longer I live, more I see – more people, more births, more deaths, more happiness, more sufferings.
The common denominators for luck and ill luck, happiness and unhappiness are their variability and impermanency . A particular object or event or even talk, which makes one happy could be the cause for the unhappiness of another one. Also, one may be at the apex of luck at a particular moment ; he falls to the nadir, the next moment.
With great difficulty a girl secured admission for a medical seat, studied well, became a doctor. Everyone acclaimed her as the luckiest in the family, in the community, in the village. She prepared for MD, got selected and boarded a train to go to Vellore to join a prestigious college. A terrorist had planted a bomb below a particular seat in the same train, same compartment which she boarded. She occupied that seat, the bomb explored and that was the end of her story, a really tragic end.
This was a real story, as I heard from the media, not long ago.
The poor girl who was lucky throughout, ceased to exist in no time!
So, if you say, someone is happy or lucky, it is for that period and not beyond that. Ramankutty was very depressed, deeply unhappy when his classmate Krishnan kutty cleared the Civil exam and he didn’t . But, in the long run, the former lived a much happier life than his IAS officer friend. The reasons could be many- his wife might have been doing less shopping, he would have acquired all the riches of her mother in law or his children would have become IAS officers or simply, he would have been in a job with no responsibilities.
So, don’t be jealous if someone is lucky to marry a charming girl or build a palatial home or became a politician and minted money. We don’t know what all problems they face through the very assets they acquired. Their wife, children or own health may be sucking their blood, from behind the doors. A man with four bungalows has more problems than the one with a small house. A man with  four wives will have more problems than the one who has only three. I was told that a politician had four wives and when they were alone with him, they pinched, punched and thumped his body, all at a time, at different parts, expecting that he had concealed gold biscuits everywhere. ‘Had I married only once, I would have been hit by only two hands!’, he moaned.
More quantity need not give more happiness.
I’m ok, now at this moment and I thank God for that. If you are ok, now, at this moment, thank God if you believe in one and otherwise, thank whomever you want to. Yours and my concern is only this very moment. But don’t mourn that Krishnan kutti became a district collector and you are a mere train ticket collector. No collections remain for ever and even if it happens, it is of no use to us as we don’t remain for ever! It is a hard truth that the chairs we sit on and the cots we lie, outlive us.
The pity is that the impermanency of man doesn’t drowse his ambition for collections and he realizes their worthlessness for him, only when he reaches the end of his road, empty handed. But, it becomes too late.
But the influence of the collections is so great that if he gets a small chance to come back, even for a short while, he restarts collections! But if he is a politician, he will think twice before collecting more than one woman!

 
Seniors settling in foreign lands with their sons or daughters, is a sensitive issue for them, not withstanding the assured support available, which is essential, from their children.
The main stumbling block is the feeling of not belonging to the country of settlement. Even while in India, there are many who would like to go to their native villages, after retirement, where their parents and grand parents lived and died. Even me, after spending over five decades in Hyderabad, where my children were born, those close to me breathed their last, had a nappasai, chinna, chinna asai, small desire, that I should go back to my ancestral village to spend my evenings in life, the only attraction being the soil, water and air, which carried the vibrations of the breath and smell of the sweat of my grand parents. However, wisdom overtook emotion, when I thought about the practical difficulties and stopped wandering on the imaginary valleys and hills.
Non belonging to the place to be settled, is one reason; leaving the belongings behind, is another. The belongings could be house, relatives, nearby temple, pets , plants even big vessels and granite grinding stones, which were in use for ages! Payikka , (given beautiful name Bhagirathy) , left her Vaikkom home only once in life, as she had always a cow or a calf or both in her cattle shed, to look after and refused to leave them under the neighbor’s custody even for a few weeks!
The memories, habits, customs and practices are other weights pulling towards the native land. Memories, as you know, are powerful catalysts.
If the above considerations could be overcome, settling aboard with their sons or daughters could be considered, if living alone back in their country is not safe or undesirable. The reason for my ‘if’s and ‘but’s is that the first choice of almost all seniors is to stay back in their own country, own house, eating the food and going to the places of their choice. When they settle abroad, the oldies should be prepared for some adjustments on their part, may be at the cost of their beliefs and practices.
The medical attendance may not be available immediately, unless in the case of emergency, though they can expect to have good medical care. The milk, fruits and vegetables are pulled out of the temperature- controlled chests and not fresh from the cow’s udders or from the back yard garden. Daily temple visit many not be possible unless the shrines are in walkable distance, a rare possibility. Outside movement will be restricted to great extend if they are not equipped with a permit to drive and know how of driving in high speed, which many elders may not have.
In short, there are difficulties here for the elders in settling permanently. Homes for the aged in India, at affordable price and with essential facilities seem to be an option, If living alone, single or in pair, is impossible.
All these thoughts enter the mind only when one’s body and mind start walking in different directions.
When that happens, depends on many factors, including our way of living, management of thoughts, events and balancing of good and bad things and events.
Preparedness to accept the inevitable, and ability to accept the non acceptable and less acceptable events and things, is a boon, in any age, all the more during our old age.
Flexibility in attitudes and behavior is essential when you get transplanted. It is possible, without sacrificing your basic beliefs. Last evening, while attending an orchestra organized by the fifth standard classmates of Ananya and also on earlier occasions when I had attended non Indian programs, I used to complement myself for my capacity for adaptability, without which , I would be missing many things.
Be open to changes, many doors will open !
Keeping away from life is pushing yourself to oblivion.

 
‘How  do you spend your time here?’
Some of my friends in India, who comes to USA on a holiday, ask me, within a few days, ‘how do you manage to spend your time here?’ They have a point. Neighbors here, don’t come home for a ‘chai par charcha’ in the evenings or we don’t entertain them when we meet on the street corner imitating cat calls of the Upper House or the ‘tushum tushum of the Lower House of the Parliament.
We also miss the fun of bargaining with the vegetable vendor who comes to our gates and invite us to come down, by his standard sweet yelling, which many times we wait for. We can’t with or without a banian, carrying a shoulder bag, go to the corner shop, chat with the owner, assistant and other customers for a full hour and return with a few packets wrapped in newspaper, with the satisfaction that we made a great sacrifice for the family.
We can’t, after bath, come out barren chested and spread the wet clothes for drying on the rope tied in the front balcony or back trees of our house, moving the cloth up and down and making sound big enough to reach the kitchen, to announce the great work we did.
While driving we can’t shout at the two legged and four legged friends crossing our way, magically appearing from all sides barring the top, nor escape the cop for a driving lapse, by parting with a chai or biryani paisa.
All these funs I too miss here. But I love living here as my outer world and inner world are here. Without any disrespect or ungratefulness to my ‘Anantha Jyothi’ in Hyderabad, I can say that now, my home is where my children live with their spouses and kids. They take care of me, looking into even minute needs, ensuring that I don’t miss anything in life. More over, my nephews and their spouses who are here, too shower all the affection and care on me.
My inner world are my writing, reading, singing, musing, dreaming, Nature study etc. They are with me through out, with the result, I have no spare time for nagging or disturbing the peace my daughter or daughters -in-laws, sons or son in law. With the constant company of my inner companions, I never felt lonely, though I have been alone barring the company of my younger brother, most of the past several years.
I am not very traditional in my thinking or ways of living. I’m flexible, don’t insist on a specific way of living. I enjoy any food prepared at home as well as in Mexico, French, Italy, Japan or Chinese kitchen, where my children take me to.
I don’t ask them, what they do, why they do and don’t tell them what they should not do on a subject where my knowledge is zero or abysmally below theirs. This lesson , I learned from my wife. I used to receive several phone calls, even at odd times, but she never raised her eyebrows wondering who could be on the other side.
I don’t shout at my grand children but shout along with them, making them ashamed of their pitch.
I still, would like to go back to India to spend sometime there attending to my personal works and also touring places to meet my friends and relatives, which include the gods, throughout the length and breadth of the country.
The country we live in is sweet, if our homes are sweet.
Homes are sweet, if we are sweet.
We are sweet, if our wives are sweet.
Wives are sweet if they don’t question us about the odd time phone calls!
Keep the wives sweet, wherever you are!