Blog

My pooja room is an integral part of the springs and winters of
my life. I have seen its golden as well as its dark days. My Moorthis dwelling in that tiny room reflected my waxing and waning!

For my Appa of usually advanced thinking, there were a few conservative ideas such as Sakunam, to which he struck religiously. The braking coconut exactly into two haves for the Vishukani was an indication for him that things would move smooth for the ensuing year.

After placing a handful of Bilwa leaves which my Mohanasister had brought, on the idol of Mahadeva in my almost abandoned home shrine and seeing the coconut breaking into identical halves, I felt that the Moorthis in my shrine have pardoned me for neglecting them for months and years and were assuring me an easy walk through.

After all, this small abode was once a center of serious spiritual activities. Melodious metal bell sound could be heard in the mornings and at times in the evenings too, from this holy place, following my rhythmic recitation of Vedic humans. The early morning Sun rays used to reverently reach, through the big ventilators on the front wall, to tough the feet of the Moorthis here. The big brass lamps, in rows, used to shine with multiple wicks on special occasions and on other days one or two moderate lamps but always spreading brightness.

My children used to get up from their cradles hearing my Rudrajapam or other hymns and their cries never hampered the flow of the recitation of my Stotrams nor the sound of my singing stopped their cries. Absolute symphony was there in the main living hall which expanded to this small shrine.
Though my children may not now remember a single line from my recitation, the essence of our culture, though not the rituals, got embedded into their system. That was a big victory for me. They became spiritual in the real sense and live a honest life without the interpolations or interference of religious restrictions and regulations. They mean what they say. They say what they feel. They are free birds now but their wings derived velocity from my Vedic hymns. I believe so; they may not.

All those became old stories when an year-long tempest lambasted my family in 1999 and blew off its roof in the early days of the current Millenium. The year 2000 started with a thunderous thrash. The lady of the house left us for ever. Atchuth was 16 and Srikanth 14, then.

Then on, for many days a solitary lamp silently glowed with no accompaniment of hymns or metallic sounds, inside my pooja room. I had abandoned all routine religious activities.

The house did wake up again in joy with the preparations for the weddings of my eldest son and daughter, which took place in August 2001.

The arrival of Meghana and Vuday changed the whole scenario of dullness into delightful vibrations and their cheerful parents and other relatives wiped off every tinge of black ink from our lives. No going back since then. God opened two big doors after closing the main door.

During my absence of four years Vicha Anna did what he could best.

My Moorthies stand by me and tolerate everything I do and that is their keerthi.

I can’t close this write up without sharing with you some light- weight stuff.

‘Neivedyam’, me from the pooja room, turning head towards the kitchen.

‘See to your right’. Response from inside

After some time, ‘karpooram’. My demand.

‘See to your left’

‘I don’t see any of those here.’

‘Surprising! What do you see then?’

‘Only your face’

‘Enough of your worship. Get up and rock the cradle’

Not always, occasionally, did such dialogue took place between us.

Pooja is for what after all?

You know the answer.

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’