Shivam Diaries

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  • Maiden snow fall in Maryland

    image
    Got up from bed at 8.30 this morning and looked through the window as usual, at my maple and oaks, pine and cherry trees. Wah, what a sight! It has been snowing since last night as predicted by the weather man ( how correct he is in his forecasting !) .The trees and lawns, cars and streets are covered with a thin, white sheet of snow. I am bolting down to push the kids to the duck area . Oh, they are already there throwing snowballs at each other, well protected with warm clothes.The first snowing always calls for a celebration though it might become an unwanted guest in the long run. Let me not worry about the tomorrow or the day after and spoil the joy of today.
    Let me play with the kids now. Children enjoy the nature fast; in fact they enjoy the life best . When we grow we think less and less about the nature and worry more and more about us and the people and things around us, movable and immovable, may be wife, children, job, house, furniture; even about a cockroach in the kitchen or a mole on neighbor’s face. Where do we have time then, to look at the sky, moon or stars , clouds hanging lethargically from the roof of the sky or racing fast through its corridors in different shapes. ?
    But the nature doesn’t forget us. In fact, it thinks about us always. That is why, when an unwanted bacteria or virus enters your body, you are warned by a raise in its temperature or when a tiny dust enters your nostrils, you sneeze to expel it so that it doesn’t find its way to your precious lungs. When a tsunami is about to struck, the animals smell the danger and ruun for shelter. Animals live close to nature and they know each other better than us.
    12.00 noon. The snowing continues. it is nice to watch the velvety grass on the lawn trying to remove the white veil and peer to see whether the sunlight has arrived. Every one needs sunlight including the tiny, tender grass. The bright yellow Dalia flower which was so prominent yesterday under the bright sun, has pathetically hung his head as if it has committed a shameful act. No, child you have not erred. It is the external force which has made your head to bow and this damage is not permanent . you will raise to life again tomorrow morning when the Lord of the sky kisses your forehead as a mother does when the child is weak.
    But the much stronger cherry and maple trees have to wait longer for rejuvenation. They are aware of it and so are not perturbed. They know it is the law of Nature. Waning and waxing. The moon has taught them; the rivers have taught them. We also receive the same lessons but where do we have time to learn ? We are busy thinking about the cockroach in the kitchen or the mole on the face of our neighbor !
    2.00pm . No more snowing since an hour. A mild wind blows and the cherry trees , though depressed due to the loss of leaves, are moving their head in appreciation. A tiny bird arrives from nowhere, shirks off water droplets from its wings and perch on the tree opposite to me. Looks at me, expecting that I will talk a few words. I do say with a smile , “welcome , my friend ”
    The sweet little bird moves its head to say, ”thanks” . ” Feeling cold?” I ask. ” Not at all, this is just the beginning; another 4-5 months, I have to bear this.”
    “Will you live for another 4-5 months ?”
    I wanted to ask but instantly control my tongue. Thank God, I didn’t spill the words. What would have happened had I asked that stupid question ? That sweet little heart would have got hurt. She would have cursed herself for flying towards my study and perching on the tree opposite to me, discarding the discomforts of snowing..
    For a moment I dread to think what answer to give, had she thrown the same question at my face ” Will you live for another 4-5 months ?’
    I cursed my arrogance. It is nothing but sheer difference in size between us, made me even to think of such a stupid question. Thank God, I didn’t ask that question to that sweet, little bird !
    My sweet little grand child Nikhil (4) flashes into my study and exclaims, ”thatha kuruvikittae pesara -grand pa is talking to a bird !”
    ” Nothing new,” replies Ananya (6), his sister , ”Nan kozhanthai irunthappo thatha kaakai kittae pesina- when I was a baby, he spoke to a crow ! ”
    How lucky I am to have crows and kuruvies , oaks and pines, maples and cherry trees as friends and the ability to talk to them!
    Love and regards, sperinkulam
    Baltimore, Octo 29, 2011
    Copy right fully with the author.

  • The smell of the soil – chapter 03

    The elder couple enjoyed a good sleep, forced by jet lag and facilitated by plenty of warm materials, room heater, thick and soft mattress over a spring bed at comfortably reachable height, night lamp, chukku vellam (medicated warm water ) in thermos  and a toilet close by.
     
    Ramya had thoughtfully hung a picture of the God Guruvayoorappan, on the wall opposite to their bed, after removing a wildlife picture there. They were happy and contended to see the God’s smiling face, the moment they opened their eyes. Swamy sits on meditation, on the bed, for some time while mami was looking for a ‘suprabhatham’ recitation by MS[1], and Ramya, noticing her mother in law’s searching eyes and sharpened ears, switches on the computer and plays the favorite devotional music. Thus started, really well, the first chapter of the maiden morn in America, for the elders, on their maiden trip, outside their country.
     
    The second part is hot filter- coffee and the newspaper.
     
    “Hindu paper kidaikkuma? (The Hindu paper available here?)” -Swamy to his son, as soon as Ramya placed two tumblers of coffee on the table, for the elders.
     
    ”Vasallae kolampottaya (have you drawn kolam [2] in the front?” Shyamu,, to her daughter in law.
     
    Ramu explains that only local papers are available.  He places a big bundle, which his father rejects outright, as there were hardly any news, none on India and only advertisements. The Indian TV channels were being arranged and within a day or two, said Ramu.
     
    ” Appa, you should learn to handle the computer so that you can read the news online and also hear YouTube music,” he suggests.
     
    “At this age?”,Swamy asks, but covertly wondering,” am I really that old?”
     
    Every time he tells someone, “I am old, I can’t do this” etc, he hears a message from within, that he is not that old. But, he worries about his aging, the moment his wife says, “onkalukku vayassu aayatchu, jagradai-you are getting old, take care.”
     
    Ramya tells mami that it is not possible to draw kolam outside as cold winds are blowing and moreover, the floor is not ideal for any drawing, as it is wet. She had, however, drawn before the deities in the kitchen. “Let me try” says Shyamu and returns within a moment, unable to stand the cold breeze outside.
     
    “Where do I dry my cloth after bath?” enquires mami, “are there strings or ropes at the back?’
     
    “No, ma, you cannot dry them outside” Ramya clarifies, ‘‘the machine will wash and dry too”. Mami’s face shrinks. She doesn’t like the idea of her sari getting mixed with other clothes, rotating in a closed machine and getting dried without the sunshine treatment. She fondly remembers her washing the clothes, applying Sunlight soap and beating it on the granite step of the temple pond, dipping it fully spread, into the clear water and drying in open air. “There is a joy in doing that”, she mutters unintentionally which was overheard by her husband.
     
    “In doing what?” he asks instantly.
     
    ”Oh! Your ears?. You were a snake in the precious birth” Mami chides.
     
    “I was, no doubt” he jokes, “that is how I chose you as my partner in this birth”
     
    “Where do I do my sandhyavandhanam[[3] ?” enquies Mama after his bath, “in the front or back or in the deck?”
     
    “In summer, you can do anywhere outside, but not now.” Ramu tells his dad. Now mama’s face shrinks.
     
    The memories of his ablution in the village temple- pond and performing the morning and evening prayers on its bank, surges and he feels sad that for the next six months he will miss that pleasure. The imaginary sight of his white  veshti 5, held high in his hands, fluttering in the breeze, making soft sound as if it was talking to the wind, amuses him and he explains to his grandson, through hand movement how the cloth attempts to escape from his hands and fly in the air but he holds it back. The little one understands nothing though he enjoys the hiss made by his grandpa. ‘Thatha, show that again” he demands and Subbu repeats the show with joy. Swan tries to imitate and unsatisfied with his attempt but determined to prove his caliber, picks up a whistle from his mount of toys and makes repeated whizzing sound. “Thathaa, see whether you can do, as I did? ” asks he, handing over the instrument. Thatha pretends as if he is unfit to do the job. The child grabs the whistle and blows more forcefully and proves his superiority, to tom tom which he rushes to his grand ma. ‘Thatha can’t whistle, thatha can’t whistle,” he boasts clapping his hands.
     
    “Thahta doesn’t know anything,” Grand ma supports him and complains, “he knows only to shout at me.”
    “Amma, you mentioned Appa is your everything for you, a few hours before and how do you say now that he is nothing?” Asks Ramya with a naughty smile.
     
    “I know nothing and that is how I became her everything,” clarifies the jovial husband, ” which woman wants a husband, who knows something ?”
     
    “Appa, damaging statement,” Ramu laughs .
     
    Swan realizes that all were blaming thatha for his inability to whiz and being a good friend, it is his duty to help him. He holds thatha’s hand and asks him to follow.Thatha obediently, silently follows the child,who makes his grand pa to sit comfortably and handing over the whistle,  teaches  how to hold it in the mouth and operate. ” Blow once, let me see whether you are doing properly,” the infant Guru orders and alas, the sishya is now able to do the  job perfectly. Now none will scold him .The kid’s face glows with happiness.
     
    Then, thatha explains how, after bath, he enters the temple,” and there stands a big elephant ! “.
     
    ”How big thatha?, this big,?’” he enqires, rising his tiny hands and thatha explains, “this big” stretching his hand as much as possible and standing on tip toe.
     
    “Appa, be careful,” warns Ramya,”don’t slip”
     
    Mami is getting down the stairs, for taking bath, which does not escape the eyes of the old man, though the cataract has partially dimmed their brightness.
     
    “Wait, wait. I am coming, ” he yells and tries to reach her, when he notices that Ramya is already there helping his wife.
     
    “Does he keeps a watch on amma’s movements even in his sleep,?” wonders Ramya.
     
    Mami did enjoy the warm water shower though she had some hesitation initially.
     
    “There is no privacy,” she complains, “I don’t like the glass cover on two sides “
     
    “No privacy?”  Swamy laughs, ” true, not as much as in your village tank, fully exposed to the sky and surroundings. I presume that your problem her is, you have a closed chamber with opaque glass sheets and in addition a curtain too ”
     
    ” I don’t know ” mami replies, “moreover, I miss the satisfaction of washing my sari with my own hand and  Sun-drying it.”
     
    “These are unwanted imaginations and you should come out of these inhibitions ” Mama remarks and laughs, loudly.
     
    “Why are you laughing?” Mami enquires wondering what was there to amuse him in what she said.
     
    ” I too had the same feelings, imaginations or inhibitions, whatever you call it ” he replies and laughes again.
     
    “Appa, that is real fun” adds Ramu couple who overheard their conversation .
     
    “Amma, I have finished my bath; shall I prepare the ‘neivedyam’ for Appa’s worship? ” Ramya asks, “Shall I keep rice in the cooker?”
     
    “No, you open the suitcase in which my clothes are kept” Mami instructs,” there is in it, a small brass vessel with lid. Take it out. I will cook rice in it for neivediyam “
    “How did the vessel escape from my notice when I cleared your baggage?” enquires Ramu.
    “It was well wrapped in my clothes to prevent damage in transit,” his mother clarifies, “that vessel belonged to your great grandmother.”
     
    “Are you hearing Ramya ?” Ramu. “Yes, I am ” She answers.
     
    “if you have finished your Sandhya, have some snacks and coffee, appa ” Ramya suggests, ” your pooja can be performed after that”
     
    “App will not eat unless he feeds his gods?” Mami says, “but he will have one more tumbler of coffee”
     
    “Because the gods doesn’t drink coffee,” adds Ramu with a wink.
     
    Swamy’s pooja lasts over an hour and his son, reminiscing the days when he too had performed the same, before coming to US, thinks, ” I should not have left it ” but corrects ,”where is the time for me ? “
     
    Again, after a moment, the same thought surges in his mind and with a determination, he takes shower, wears fresh cloth in the conventional panchagattcham style and sits  near his father to recite Rudram along with him.
     
    The women are happy. Ramu too has a unique satisfaction of having retrieved something which was loft for a long time. He recalls his young days, when wearing a small dothi and applying holy ash on his forehead, chest and arms, he used to follow his father to the temple, stand before the sanctum and recite mantras and on reaching home, his father used to explain proudly how their son recited the slokas accurately.” I should not have left the recitation and the routine pooja,” he muses and immediately ask the question to himself, “where is time for all those activities?”
     
    Swan, sitting close by watching the magic of his thatha, pouring water and throwing flowers, wonders why the two elders are shouting at the dolls  and pictures before them. He should show his competence. “I can make more noise” he avers,  picks up his  pipe and plays as loudly as he can. “Swan, please, you can play later,” his mother pleads..
     
    “Don’t stop him, Ramya, ” Swamy instructs, ” let him continue. My Easwaran  loves instruments during worship, especially when played by kids”
     
    ” But Appa, you used to scold me when, as a kid, I disturbed you.” Ramu complains.
     
    “Because you are only my son, not grand son” Swamy replies smiling.
     
     

     

  • ‘Oh, manassilayi’ (yes, I understood )

    Ammalu stories

    ‘Oh, manassilayi’ (yes, I understood )

    As the young ones enjoy disobeying their parents, we too derive pleasure in doing exactly opposite to what our children want us to do. Otherwise why should I prefer to travel by sleeper class, despite their standing instruction to travel by air, wherever feasible, otherwise by a/c class at least in train but never in a sleeper class?
    I avoid domestic air travel as I hate to spend more time in commuting to and fro the air ports and waiting at the lounge, than the actual journey time. I also hate to sit behind others as the backs do not have eyes or tongue ! And this task of stretching and  straining  the head and neck to see what those in the front and back are doing is a nuisance.  It is equally sickening to be caged in an a/c coach  in a train like a safari lion in the zoo, semi-opaque screens shamelessly standing between you and the moving trees and flowing waters, sloping hills and sleeping meadows, charming faces of  women and children and many such free and fabulous sights . There is a thrill in traveling by sleeper class, meeting people who bluff, boast and blabber or open up their heart before you and tell you everything about them, unasked and carry your baggage unload and reload in your vehicle at your destination. You might also , at times, come across a co-passenger as I did, like the madmam Manssilayo, whom I am  introducing now.
    I go to Kerala, to recharge my battery, quite often.  Mother Nature is lavish is her ceaseless celebration there in all her glory and more you move deeper down, more is your exhilaration in participating in a perennial panoramic presentation of pristine beauty and grace . The pre- dawn temple worship after a dip in a river or pond , Carnatic music in the evening followed by Kathakali at night, colorless, odorless  sweet water and smoke-free air, all around – all these remove impurities from mind and body and rejuvenate the system. And the puzhukkkalari (boiled brown rice ) choru with olan, kalan, avaial, pappadam and uppilittathu (side dishes) –aunh!i ikshayayai- real enjoyment! ( how miserably fails the art of translation in its attempt to convey the meaning of those two words in a different language !)
    During my last return journey from Thiruvananthapuram  in Sabhari express, a very fair, fat, well-dressed woman with her husband with a pear-shaped head over a pencil-shaped body and half-a-dozen children of different ages and mixed shapes, boarded my compartment at Kottayam Junction. They had with them, unusually large volume of luggage and it was an ordeal for the couple to load their movable and immovable products into the compartments, before the train steamed out.
    I got up from my seat to extend a helping hand but before I lifted up my back fully, the lady managed to push her generous bottom to occupy my seat.  Every millimeter space in the compartment had been fully filled by the intruders and yet, a few kids and cartons and a big jack fruit remained to be accommodated.
    “Could you hold this for a moment?” Pleaded the lady and before I could answer, the big jack fruit was already placed on my head. I go mad at the sight of the sweet, juicy, flavored fruits.   But to carry a whole fruit with an unfriendly outer skin , over the head, in standing posture in a super-fast express train needs substantial  skill, stamina and patience. For a moment I tried to imagine that I was carrying that lady, just to make the load less acceptable, but that did not work. No comparison in surface statistics albeit the weight compatibility.

    “I couldn’t make it to Pazhavangadi Pulliar, this time. Could this be his punishment?” I started worrying and simultaneously took a vow that during my next trip, I would visit first Pazhavangadi before moving to other temples. I wanted to pick up a coin from my right pocket and put it in the left one, to cement the vow but my hands were not free-they were holding the jack fruit.
    But Pulliar answered my vow instantly and sent a cashew nut vendor to remove the load off my head and place it on the upper birth. I instantly removed a coin from my right pocket but hesitantly put it in the left one. After all, the job is done. Is it really necessary to please the elephant headed God ?
    I continued to stand uncomfortably surrounded by children and luggage, looking at my seat being occupied by the woman, hoping that she would develop an urge to ease herself so that I could grab the seat the moment she gets up. But that didn’t happen. Her generous bottom refused to move by an inch. Her inner system which expels waste was haywire.
    I picked up another coin from my right pocket and placed it in the left,  without hesitating for a moment as I am now convinced that only Pazhavangadi has the strength to push the intruder out of her seat which rightly belongs to me.
    That coin was Perhaps a fake one! 
    ‘Carry your child”.  So said the fat lady,  and placed a kid on my hand, flashing an almost hypnotic smile

    “My child!” I shivered and struggled to breath.
    “All children are God’s children and God’s children are our children, while traveling in a sleeper class” She declared,  squinting her eyes.

    She had a point there.
    We reached Ernakulam Junction. The children bolted out of the compartment.
    “Catch them, they are running on the platform” I screamed.
    “Let them; they are not mine“ She replied shrugging as if I had asked for a hug.
    Later, however, the kind lady explained that the children’s parents were in the next compartment and she had  brought them along with her, only to enjoy their company for a short while.
    ‘Manssilaayo? Understood?’  She spoke into my ear in a seductive whisper as if she was sure of my reply.
    In fact, she was.
    “Manssilayi- yes, under stood” I replied, blinking at her like a school-child seeking the pardon of his teacher for not completing the home -study-assignment.
    At Trichur Junction, her husband, who was reading ‘Mathrubhumi’ weekly, sitting in a corner seat, got down and didn’t return..
    ‘Your husband didn’t return.” I alerted her with anxiety pumping up my blood-flow.
    “He is not my husband” the worthy woman replied without even bothering to look at me.
    She explained later that she took his help only to push the luggage in.
    ‘Every one who boards the compartment along with me can’t be my husband, right?” Arching her eyebrows she asked as if she was excusing me for committing a crime by mentioning the escape of the pear cum pencil shaped partner.

    She has a point there too.
    ‘Manassilayo?’  She asked sweetly again , suppressing a wicked smile.
    I nodded my head in the typical Malayalee style and replied  ‘Manassilayi, manassilayi ‘
    I was to get down at  Palakkad junction. The lady got down before me and didn’t bother to unload her luggage.
    “Madam, you have not removed your luggage” I shouted running behind her.
    .
    “They are not mine’ She replied.” They belong to my friends in the next compartment and they will collect them at Coimbatore. You take care of them till the next station. Coimbatore to Palakkad is just one hour journey. “Manasiilayo? Sami?’’    Damn it ; the same dirty question again..
    But again, like an idiot, I nodded my head vigorously and replied, ‘Oh! Manassilayi, manssilayi”
    ‘’ Enthu manssilayi -what is it that you understood ? Are we not alighting here ?” Ammalu enquired, her eyes and mouth wide opened..‘Enikku onnum manassilayillallo!”  She lamented that she  understood nothing .
    ‘Athum mansassilayi’  I nodded my head forcefully again. “I understood that too”.

  • The mighty mashes the meek.

    How happy I am to be again in Baltimore in the friendly Fall !
    The sun is seen on and off, but never torches ;  cold hugs and kisses now and then tenderly but  never pricks; some mornings are foggy but I can see the movement of cars across the lawn . It rains some time but never pours to flood the roads. Light and shade, warm and cool – a replica of mind. Or of  life ?
    The Nature changes the raaga, the tune, effortlessly without any disturbance to the melody of music .The cherry and maple trees slowly change their soft green apparel to  red, brown gold and oranges, while the oaks and pines hesitate to accept the Fall, though they know that sooner or later they too will have to bow their head to the law of nature. ” let us spend singing and dancing till the last bell rings” seem to be their attitude. Many shiver at the sight of danger, swoon when they hear the name of death . Trees are not like that; they do not worry about the changes that take place in their body. They know that if there is a body, that will undergo changes. Even death is not capable of arresting changes. So, if your girls and boys opt for a new dress pattern or a new life pattern don’t curse them.
    We were talking about the trees in our court yard and those along the streets we drive through. Shorty they will sacrifice their dry leaves at the feet of the mother earth who will embrace them to her bottom and give them rebirth, a new life, and hand them over back to the trees, fresh and tender. I have been watching the drama of this calculated conversion, rhythmic reformation, for a few years . I thank my son for providing me a study with a big window near my computer, opening to the lovely garden with lush green lawn, bordered by trees and extending to a forest, my companions for most of the day.
    From trees to humans.  I am reminded of some of the well- to- do families in the places where I lived before, the palatial houses they lived in, the costly dress and ornaments the women folk wore, the loud noise the men made in weddings and religious gatherings, their sarcastic statements, their ‘don’t touch me’ behavior and their arrivals for the family functions and kathakali , dance or music programs accompanied by their wives carrying a silver kooja (pot) with hot coffee and a servant maid behind them carrying the betel – casket. Alas, how fast almost all  those pompous men and women, all those houses have vanished from the face of the earth. I showed a landlord, related to me, out of sheer enthusiasm,  my first appointment order in a WHO project related to the health studies of villagers. His sharp eyes noticed that my salary was R.60 plus allowances. Instantly, as if he was waiting for a chance to strike, he made a cruel remark , ”sixty rupees means two rupees a day! ” and without saying a word of encouragement, without appreciating that my first appointment was in a leading research institute under the premier Medical Council, he handed over the paper back  to me, as if that quarter sheet of paper with a Government seal was worth nothing. Every time, I got a better position, I used to unnecessarily think about that man and during one of my Kerala trips sometime ago, when I happened to pass through his village I wanted tell him that my pension was more than 20, 000 . But where was he ? One person I inquired, simply lifted his hand and pointed towards the sky and another did not even know that such a big man existed in that village. There was only a mount of rubble left where his house stood in all its glamor. No trace of even that veranda with that ornamental easy – chair reclining on which the ‘peiyaver’, the rich relative ridiculed my just- received appointment order. While standing before that heap of brick and mud monument of devastation, I could not but wonder how could that majestic mansion  crumble so pathetically and how did the sons of the prestigious, proud owner with  broad chest, long arms, prominent nose,  snow-white clothes did burn him into ashes ?
    So, when a kid shows you a sheet of paper where he has scribbled something with his own hand or when your wife hands over a cup of coffee prepared by her for the first time, enlarge your eyes, raise your eyebrows, make a cone with your lips as if you are going to whistle and hug them- both, the kid and your wife. 
     A deer looks at us innocently, raising its round ears sharp and alert, when I go for a walk with my grand children, in the evenings. It comes out of the bushes and look at the passing cars as if she is seeing them for the first time in her life. Why should man hunt such an innocent creature, which harms none ? Why should a wild animal, pounce on her, tear her into pieces and eat ? The Mighty mashing the meek !.
    Trees give flowers ,fruits, fuel, fodder, manure, housing for the birds, shelter for anyone who seeks refuge, man or animal. and even a helping hand for the creepers to come up . When it comes to  animals, the mighty smashes the week, to satisfy hunger. And man kills birds and animals for pleasure and for eating.
    And man kills man to feed his hunger for power, position, wealth and ego.
    The mighty mashes the meek.
    Baltimore,
    Oct 17, 2011
    comments:
    Thursday, 3 November 2011
    T.V .Ramakrishnan

    Very touching article with philosophical thought, nice indeed.
    With regards
    ————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

  • Don't lose the opportunities the life offers

    ‘ Don’t lose the opportunities the life offers, my son ‘
     ‘ Never dad’
     ‘ Good boy. Now tell me, why did you refuse the girl I selected for you ?’
     ‘ hm,……………………….’
    ‘ Come on son, I can take it ‘
    ‘ I didn’t like her, dad ‘
    ‘  Haven’t you heard the wise saying,  ‘baaryaa roopavathy sathru- lovely wife is like an enemy’ ?
    ‘ Don’t say  mom was your enemy ?
    ‘ Mom came with no dowry; Where there is no money, wise sayings do not work. In your case , I have taken the dowry as advance’
     ‘ Return that, dad. Simple’
    ‘ Not that simple, son. I have already spent that ‘
    ‘ The you marry her; Simpler still ‘
    ‘ No doubt, it is a simple solution, especially when she likes me.’
    ‘ She likes you ?’
    ‘ That is what her father says. ‘ instead of marrying an young  software engineer, earning hardly 5000 bucks, I  can live like a princess in a rent-free house with 15000   income , if I marry a coconut- plucker,’  she said it seems.
    ‘ Did she really say that, dad ?  I will break her head. There is a hitch, though. She is stronger, weighs five kilos more than me’
    ‘That extra five kilos is the weight of the gold ornament she wears’
    ‘ Why didn’t you tell me this earlier, dad ? I will marry only that girl of your choice..’Baaryaa roopavathy sathru- lovely wife is like an enemy’ says who, dad?
    ‘The men of wisdom’
    ‘ Yes, the men of wisdom. You take another advance and spend . Don’t loose the opportunities the life offers, dad’ 
    ‘ I am glad that you said it.’
     ‘ All the best, dad. Remember while taking the advance – 15 is 3 times 5 ‘
    Baltimore,
    Oct 15, 20011

  • The smell of the soil – Chapter 02

    Chapter 02
    Distribution of gifts and parting of property documents
    ——————————————————————
    The moment Swamy enters the ‘restroom’, he is awestruck seeing a row of bright lamps, above a big mirror flooding the whole room with powerful light, and wonders why so many lamps for a bath cum toilet. Why such large mirrors not one but two, he asks himself. The glistening walls and wall to wall carpeted floor makes him wonder whether so much luxury was really necessary. “Devalokam aattama irukku (it is like heaven)” he coos.  The urge to eliminate the extra fluid surging, he postpones the survey of the interior and looks for a conventional toilet seat, which to his disappointment was not there. He settles for the ‘European’ seat, though he is uncomfortable to clear the bladder in a standing posture. And, alas, there was no provision to collect water from the tap!  Timely, Ramu knocks the door and passes on a plastic jug, through the gap of the partially opened doors. “May you live long my son”, blesses the old man.  Once the bladder pressure was relieved, his brains works better and Swamy notices, to his surprise that the partially carpeted floor has no water outlet. He circulates his eyes and finds a white porcelain bath tub and is relieved that he can stand inside the tub and shower. But how will Shyamu have her bath? She needs a stool to sit on. Will a stool fit inside the bath tub? Even if it does, won’t water spill outside and wet the floor? Moreover, the wall of the tub is more than a foot above the floor level. Will she be able to cross it without slipping? He surveys the commode again. Water has to be collected from the tap and while stretching the body there is every possibility of slipping or water spilling or both. With these problems, now he is convinced that the ‘restroom’ of Ramu is neither a room for rest nor a heaven as he evaluated at the first sight.
    “Instant evaluation invariably fails” he consoles himself and quotes a Sanskrit verse to supplement that.
    “Ramu, is there another bath room?” Subbu enquires and was relieved to know that two more are there, one in the basement and the other in the floor above. When he explained the problems he anticipated, Ramu suggested to use the one in the basement which has a cabin for shower, only a few inches above the ground level and with a flat base so that a stool can be comfortably placed inside. Ramya will keep a bucket of water with a jug near the commode and if necessary the carpet will be removed and water extracted by mopping and drying. A stool and a bucket will also be kept inside the shower chamber. Only problem is the stairs.
    ”You don’t worry about that,” Swamy assures his son,” I will hold Amma’s hand when she goes to the basement”
    ”Enna asambandam peasarael-what nonsense are you taking? “Shyamu chides her husband, from the kitchen,” I call you every time I want to go to toilet? ”
    “Why do you quarrel on such trivial issue?” Ramu admonishes his parents.
    “Trivial issue?” Swamy is yet to come out of the disturbed mood., “Bowl movement is the most important issue for elders like me and your mother; then comes sleep, then–”  ” food ”  Ramu completes with an indented  smile.
    “No. then comes the feeling that we are wanted, we are yet to become disposable”. He affirms with all seriousness he can draw on his face, “the feeling those whom we loved even before they were born, have not deserted us when we are incapacitated. The anticipation that they will, when we are gone, miss us at least once a while and will unintentionally a warm drop will fall on the earth from their turbid eyes. That is the only ’tilodakam[1]‘ we expect and not an elaborate post mortal ritual.
    Shyamu mami’s eyes become moist and she tries to wipe with the end of her sari. Swan watching keenly from a corner, comes closer and consoles consciously, convincingly though incoherently, “thathi, aszahathunkol, en car unkalukku tharaen- don’t weep, grand ma; I will give you my toy car”
    “Appa, amma, you don’t know how much we love you ” Ramu and Ramya hug the parents again and again and the elated elders, unable to find suitable words to convey their appreciation and joy , thank profusely their family deity in blessing them with such a wonderful son and daughter in law.
    “Nanna irunkol, kozhanthaikal–be happy my children,” they manage to utter, controlling their emotion.
    “How considerate is[2] Appa” wonders Ramya,” even in the restroom he thinks bout Amma’s comforts. Will Ramu also be like his father, when we become old?”
    Swan unaware of all this complication continues playing with his toy cars and trains and believes that those are the real ones.
    Belief is a great gift the God has endowed us with.
    Comfortably settled on the sofa, Swamy could not resist the temptation to ask, “how much did you pay for this?”  “Not much appa,” Ramu assures and adds, “it is on a loan.”
    Ramu takes his parents around the interior of the house when the father asks the cost of the house, “it is really spacious”, he conveys his appreciation too. 
    “It is on loan and will become my own after 20 years, Appa”.  The son clarifies as if it is not a big issue.
    Swamy who had not availed a pie as loan though there was a provision for that in his service conditions, is amazed and sad to note that everything, his son possesses, is on loan.
     
     
    There comes Swan not moving like a swan bird but rushing like a whirlwind.
    “Cars, sofa, house, everything is on loan, is my grandchild too on loan?” The old man didn’t want to be so rude but his anguish pushes him to be so. The old people of my era and earlier ones hardly knew the knack of polishing their tongue, though they used a rib of coconut leaf for cleaning it in the morning every day. Words, as they emerge from the base of their heart, poured unfiltered, which may be unacceptable to the younger ones, as their unfiltered coffee too was. 
    Ramu couple rightly takes his diatribe as a joke and responds with a smile,” no appa, he is our own”
     Shyamu asks her son to open the baggage and takes out laddu, murukku[3] cheedai and other snacks. “Ramu likes kaimurukku and vella cheedai’ she adds,” so I made them with my own hands” 
    Ramu and Ramya are amazed at the packs of things coming out of the baggage the elders have brought – Variety of eatables,  dolls and curry powders, appliances for making different dishes like sevai, appam, vdam etc, a  small granite grinder with pestle and many other things. There was a small chendai (Percussion instrument) and a mini nadaswaram for the kid, grabbing which, the little devil created havoc in the house. Then comes a copper vessel containing the salagramam and other idols, with conch, bell, abhisheka patram and other auxiliaries for the daily panchayathana worship, from the cabin luggage.
    Mami takes out a packet of clothes places that on a plate along with eleven one rupee coins and asks for akhshatai and kumkumam[4].  Ramu and Ramya prostrate before the elders and collect the gifts along with their blessings. The packet contained a neck tie, two sets of ornaments for neck, ears and wrist, all made of silver and a ready-to-wear panchgatcham and kurtha for the kid.
    Ramya and Ramu are immensely pleased with those presents.
    “There is little meaning in bringing saris which you seldom wears,” mami explains, “I took the help of the neighbor to choose the jewels. Hope you like them?” she asks..
    “These are awesome ma”,  Ramya was still wondering how thoughtful the old lady was in selecting those fashion jewels.
    “Swamy hands over another packet to his son.” This contains the documents related to our village house, which I constructed with great difficulty when my income was meager. Under no circumstances you should dispose it off. I know it has no utility value now as you will not be staying in it or even if you let it out, it may not fetch much. But your children and grand children should have something to claim as ancestral property. I didn’t have that, or my father.” 
    “But why are you giving the documents to me now?” Ramu enquires.
    “Not only the documents”, Swamy replied, handing over another packet, “this contains the key of the bank locker along with a list of the contents, which are your mother’s jewels. Another list is the small savings I have as bank deposits and in shares. Their value is not much but however small it is, that should come to you. All the jewels, pattu saries, silver, gold coins, vessels, whatever Ramya brought from her house,  have been handed over back to her father. I called him one day and asked him to take charge of them. It is not safe to keep those valuable with us.”
    “That is fine Appa”,  Ramu intervenes, ” but, why the bank locker key and documents ? Planning to become a sanyasi? “
    “I should be prepared to face the inevitable, any moment. And once I am out of the gate, this frail and faithful woman should not stay alone. I have absolute faith in you and Ramya that you will take care of your mother, if I quit first”
    “The moment you saw your children, you started blabbering?”, Mami chides her husband again, “do you think I will allow you to go alone ? Haven’t I followed you like a shadow during the past fifty years?, mami asks and ask her husband to go to sleep.
    “Yes, where do I wash my feet?  Get me the viboothi (holy ash) dabba. ”  Ramu lead him to the deck though it was cold, as he knew that his father would not be happy to wash his legs in the bathroom, before he reads ‘Adyadmaramayanam[5]‘ prior to sleeping.
    Before going to bed Ramu, seeing the light on, enters his parents’ room, ” Appa, you haven’t slept yet?’ he enquires seeing Swamy sitting in deep thought.
    “Not yet. Come and sit near me; call Ramya too. I saw her working in the kitchen moments ago”   
    ” Appa, you have come after a long journey of twenty four hours ” Ramu scans the room and makes sure that the heater, night lamp, pillows, comforts are all in the proper place, “tomorrow we will discuss; sleep now” 
    “I admire your trust for a tomorrow for a man of my age ” Swamy was adamant, “let us talk now”
    Swan came running asking his dad to put him to sleep. “Don’t make the child to cry; put him to sleep” Swamy insisted.
    “So Appa, the moment you saw the kid crying, you are convinced that you have a tomorrow?” The son asks, a sparkle glowing in his eyes. “Poda madaya,” the father dismissed the junior with a proud statement, ” I have never allowed a tear drop to appear e in your eyes, when you were a kid”
    .
    __,_._,___
     

    [1] Sesame seeds mixed with water offered to the departed souls, as part of a ritualr
    [2]  Father.
    [3] snacks
    [4] Rice mixed with turmeric power and saffron. When youngsters prostrates before elders, akshtai is spread of their head as a mark of the blessings for them and saffron is applied on the forehead of women wishing then happy married life.
    [5] Holy book of the Ramayanam story.

  • Every one has a problem


    Welcome, hearty welcome. come in please. this is your bed room.–bye the by when are you returning ?
    I have just entered and you are asking me when I am returning ?
    That is only to make sure that I remain through out your stay here.
    May I know who you are and where is my son Ramu ? Where is my daughter-in-law ?
    I am Ramu’s mom and he has asked me to take care of you till he returns from his tour.
    You are Ramu’s mom? Surprising ! I am his father and  you have the audacity to tell me that you are my wife !
    I never said that I am your wife and thank Heavens for that. But I am Ramu’s mom.
    But how, how, how ?
    Ramu calls me ‘mom’
    Many boys and girls call me ‘dad’. You mean to say that I am their dad ?
    How do I know? That is your problem.
    Tell me at least, where is my daughter in law Rohini ?
    Rosi is your daughter in law now and not Rohini. I am Rosi’s mother.
    I refuse to accept; tell me where is Rohini?
    If you refuse to accept, it is your problem and if Rohini is not here it is her problem.
    Tell me honestly why did Ramu marry Rosi, when she was already married to Rohini?
    How do I know ? That is his problem.
    Every one has a problem here except you, I guess.
    Wrong guess. I too have a problem-Your arrival here.
     

  • The smell of the soil – Chapter 01

    The smell of the soil- Chapter 1
    ———————————————-
    The maiden visit of an elderly couple to America
    ————————————————————
    Here, my friend Swamy has landed at the New York airport along with his wife, Shyamu mami.  Before occupying the wheel chairs, they raise their clubbed palms  above their head to thank their family deity, for safely transporting them to the land where their son and  his family live.
     The wheel chair men help to retrieve the heavy baggage filled with a hundred and odd items from koorkai kizanghu [1]to kolu bommai[2], from the conveyor belt and also in the immigration and customs clearance formalities. The old couple is excited to meet their son Ramu, waiting at the exit along with his wife Ramya and little son Swan. Before they enquire, “kozhanthaikala, nanna irukkela (‘Childre, hope you are fine’ is a poor equivalent) they acclaim their parents with a ‘hi dad, hi mom’ welcome and warm hug. The elders bless them and try to grab Swan, ‘vada en thangam’ (come, my sweet precious child). The little imp screams as if the motive of the intruders was kidnapping.
     Ramu takes charge of the baggage dismisses the wheelchair men with a note of thanks and two 5 dollar notes. Swamy is amazed, as his strong base in Matriculation  math works out the amount just parted by his son-  nearly five hundred rupees more than his monthly electricity bill !  “Why so much?” he enquirers and receives the reply “It is OK, dad”. Ramya drapes her in laws with the warm jackets, she had carried thoughtfully with her.
     Ramu helps his parents to mount the Nissan; they feel the glaze of the exterior,  scan the interior and feel proud in that valuable possession. “What is the cost?,” the father enquires and gets the reply, “don’t worry, dad, it will become mine only after five years when I repay the loan”.
      Ramya serves hot coffee, thoughtfully carried from home and then some snacks, probably idli or dosai. The elders convey their happiness though internally a comparison of the flavor of Sekaripuram  Seshu’s coffee powder takes place. The  little joy- bundle, looks at the new comers again through the corner of his lovely eyes and enjoys their trick of raising the tumbler inches  above their mouth and the liquid dripping from it exactly into the cavity between the nose and chin . He is yet to accept them as friends, though now realizes that they were not the dragons he took them for. Fire comes out of dragon’s mouth; here liquid goes into it!
    Though disturbed by the two 5 dollar notes dangling from the depth of his mind, Swamy enjoys  viewing the wide, clean roads, prominent guiding posters and hundreds of four wheelers moving in high speeds, without making a single horn sound,   “Rottilae oru mado manushiano illayae, Ramya ( not a single man or animal on the road )”  wonders Shyamu mami.
      Exposed to the chill of the waning winter, they shiver but do not fail to watch the elegance of the house prefaced by a lavish green lawn. Swamy wanted to enquire the cost of the house but decides to postpone the query when Ramya welcomes her in-laws gracing her house for the first time, with a smiling face and  ‘Appa,amma, vango, okkarungo’ (please come in and be seated) .
     Mami doesn’t sit but enters the kitchen and Swamy too doesn’t sit but asks the location of the toilet. “Appa, restroom is there “Ramu points his finger” Mudaallae moothram peyattum da-let me urinate, first” says the old man. Ramu explains that toilets are called restrooms here and leads his father to the place where he wanted to visit first.
    “Bagavathi, thayae, en kozhanthakalai kappathu- Mother Goddess,  protect my children always”,  prays Shyamumami, her eyes shut in meditation and clubbed palms collected towards her chest, as she sees the deities and pictures of the gods, neatly arranged in a corner of the kitchen, along with flowers and other materials for the daily worship. She is proud of her daughter in law, an educated working girl from an affluent family, following the traditional practices and proudly and affectionately combs Ramya’s hair with her fingers, as she is unaware of complimentary phrases such as ‘ I am proud of you’. That single affectionate mild touch however, tells everything she had to say and Ramya thinks of her own mother who was no more. Sometime, we realize the real value of a possession only when we lose it and when we find a near alternative our joy is immeasurable.
    ”Where is our Cherunatturi’s picture?” Shayamu asks and when shown, does one more prostration, picks up her ‘mangalsutram’ hanging from her neck and takes it to her eyes as a mark of reverence to her husband and seeking the blessing of her family deity to give him a long life.
    Ramya looks deep into her mother in law’s eyes when she does that followed by a remark,
    “avarakkum ennodu lokam- he (my husband ) is my world- my everything. Those simple words, Ramya knows, haven’t emerged from her lips, but from a much deeper, divine soil.
    “God, may I be able to repeat these words about my husband in my old age!” Ramya prays silently.

    [1] A plant root used in cooking
    [2] Dolls of god, assembled for worship, once a year.

  • Clipping the wings of our girls

    What a medieval mentality is this, my friend, Sri.——!

    I am really shocked. Such a proposal coming from an educated, elite member of this group !. Am I in 2011 or 1102 !.
    To pack off the girls early, to ensure they do not marry boys of other communities ! By clipping their wings, preventing their studying beyond, say  matriculation, they will not be able to take up any job and thus will be compelled to remain in the kitchen serving the family and be good ‘sahadarminis’ and not mere bed-mates.This is exactly what you want !
    But that is not what the present day boys want ! They want a partner who will have the capabilities to row the life-boat along with them and not a meek woman to hold darbhai behind them which is only a one time event in a year. They want educated girls, who can drive the car,  teach children at home, help them in bank work, host  guests and talk to them in a language which they will understand, handle emails, phones and call for an ambulance or doctor in emergencies. And God forbid, if they are immobilized or removed form the scene due to an unfortunate event, their spouses should be able to take care of the offspring , educate them, raise them and see that they are settled in life. Any father will hope for that and that is a very legitimate expectation from their life-partners..
    Can’t an SSLC  girl perform all these tasks, you may ask. They might be. But will a graduate or PG boy opt for a non-graduate ? The boys will insist on educational parity as the girls does. So, to achieve your goal, we should not educate the boys too, beyond matriculation ? Education is a valuable tool for the progress. Even the ultra orthodox moulavies of the Muslim communities have now started encouraging the girls to improve their education.
    In the olden days the house wives worked hard, but that was within the four walls of their house.  Now half the day they have to spend outside, for their children’s schooling, shopping and other activities. Present cities not old agraharams. In fact even old villages have changed.
    The married girls in my family,get up early morning, wake up the children and prepare them to go to school, prepare food, drive the kids to school and from their proceed to their own work-place, pick up the kids from the school on their way back from their works, feed and teach them at night and also take care of their husbands’ needs at home and also outside and also do the shopping. This is in addition to their Sunday activities when they have to take their kids to Balavihar , sports, swimming, music, dance and other activities. In India also almost the same routine is observed .Only difference might be that many may not drive their vehicles but make use of other transports.
    Do you have a daughter of 16 or 17, Mr. —– Just tell her that you want her to discontinue her studies at matriculation as you are ‘arranging’ her marriage. I know what reply you will get from her, because nearly three decades ago, my mother suggested the same  to my sisters and they said ‘no’. Fortunately my father was not like you. I encouraged him and put them in college and helped to complete their graduation. They worked as scientists and administrators, remaining as real sahadharminies and also educated their children well who are now holding good positions.
    I know the woes of the women of my generation who had to face the consequence of early marriage to elderly men who left this world throwing their women to the dust bin. You also might be having such unfortunate human beings in your family or in the friend- circle. Let not the history be repeated now Let us not talk about that sad story.
    And migration to outer fields. Has it not happened before ? In my own circle there were a few cases, some 20-30 years ago.. Some flourished and some suffered. And that will continue.
    Shall I tell you one more thing. As I mentioned in this column recently, in one of the four weddings I attended, during my recent trip to India, the bride groom was my son in law’s brother and the bride an Australian girl. The wedding was strictly according to the Andrha vaishnavite customs and it was real fun to watch the Australian father performing the kanyadhanam, wearing ready made silk panchagatcham and reciting mantras in his accent ! Last Sunday I attended a wedding in the Greater Baltimore Temple. Here again the bride was an American girl, wearing madisaru in typical Tamil Iyer style. There is a  So, there is a flow in the reverse direction too .
    The oceans are shrinking. Among the westerns, there are many who find merit in our way of living. The exchange of cultural life and activities are unavoidable. When our children are aspiring to invade and occupy other planets you cannot stop them if they go beyond your village border to choose their life-partners.
    And about the divorces. In the olden days, women suffered silently within the four walls of their houses, because they had no courage to fight the society and no means to survive if they come out. The present woman has both. Instead of stagnating, the water is flowing out freely now. Think of the Nair women who lived behind your village. It is not that they loved their husband less. But they had economical sovereignty.So, they could easily get rid of their husbands when they misbehaved. Instead of their going out they threw their husbands out of their house. But our women did not have it. The land was not in their name. For the present wives if not land, they have education,. they have jobs The husbands should behave like husbands and the wives should behave like wives. Otherwise the house will break. There is no caste or religious factors in this.
    Don’t get disheartened. You cannot act against the wishes or your son or daughter and you should not also. I have four children; I do not know how many you have. As a senior person, my advice to you is allow them to study; don’t stop with matriculation. And allow them to select their life partners. Guide them from outside. Your turn was over and I do not know whether the selection was by you or your parents. My parents had a valid reason for asking me, through a telegram,  to marry a girl of their choice; As kids, we had played together! And right from her grand mother, every one in the family was known to my mother!. They did not show me even a picture of my life partner.
    But that was in the last century. We have come far, far, from there.
    Baltimore, Sept 28, 2011
    Comments :
    dear sir

    an excellent piece
    i marvel @ your versatility
    thanks for such a sensible article
    regards
    balagopal
    ————————————-
    Brilliant and fitting response.
    Agree wholeheartedly.
    Regards
    GV
    ——————————————————————————————————————————————————————
                                                                                   Next post on this topic
    “How to find only brahmin girls, for our sons?’ is a question asked by those who generally agree with my views expressed in the previous post.  Here are a few suggestions, rather what I will do if I have to look for a girl for my son:1. Will notinclude the condition, ‘sub sects not desired’ in the advertisement.2. Will notinsist on horoscope matching ‘pathu porutham’ and all.  Will Leave that to the girl’s parents and if they convey the agreement of horoscopes , I will  simply say, ‘ fine, go ahead ‘  No ‘let us have a second opinion’   That opinion, will be mostly opposite to the first. If the boy and girl agree, I will simply go by ‘Mana porutham’ which is the best ‘porutham’ and without that, all other ‘poruthams’ will only lead to ‘varutham’.3.Will not look at the ‘gothram’ at all. That idea is obsolete.We do not know whether the Maharshi in our ‘abhivadaye’ is our gotra guru or gothra pita. Anyway, we have come through many, many generations down now and he will never stand in the way of his descendants getting united . My daughter has married a sagotram boy and they have two healthy kids now .
    4. One, two, three months pass on, nothing happens. I will start looking for any brahmin girls, Iyer Iyengar, Madhwa, Nambudiries, potties etc.  I will look  for other all India Matrimonial sites too; Kerala, Andhra, Karnataka all these are neighboring states and there is no much difference in the worship and family practices . If I fail to get a girl from these gold mines  too, will go for brahmin girls from anywhere in the country, north or south, east or west. They are all good and will adjust with your culture,family traditions, habits and practices. Some of the girls who entered our houses from north and east became master cooks for shradaham., within the first year! They now help Iyer girls to prepare morkoottan and wear madisaru now ! What else do you need ?.
    5. I will not reject a girl purely on the basis of her lower financial status. Without hurting her parents’ sentiments, I will  suggest that they can conduct the marriage within their means.  In our weddings, I found nearly 60- 80 %  expenditure comes under the non-essential or avoidable category. In one of the weddings I attended, nearly 2ooo snaps were taken and 200 laminated. One tenth of that wood have been a luxury.
    6. I will not talk a word about dowry, vessels, number and size of laddus and circumference of  murukkus, number of Kanchi pattus, their border color etc. When my first sambandhi asked me,  ‘ what are your conditions ?’ I replied that the girl and boy should like each other and that was my only condition; and yet, during the nitchithartham, he was gracious enough to keep Rs.10001 before me, along with thamboolam.. I took the one Rupee coin and returned the balance amount saying I have accepted the whole amount. And on the wedding stage, soon after ‘kanyadhanam’ I handed over the cash-bag which I was carrying,  to the bride and told her that ‘now on, this is yours’ . It was a simple gesture to assure a girl who was entering our family for the first time, to  live the rest of her life here, that we are all with her. Our marriage mantras say that she is the queen of the house. Eleven years are over now and even today, Meghana’s eyes become moist when she recalls that scene.
    7. I will behave in a dignified way when I meet the girl and her people for the first time. I will ask only one question to the girl ” Konthe, onakku chamakka theriyauma ?” invariably she will nod her head to say ‘ no ‘ when her mother will intervene and say ‘avalukku noodles untakka theirium’ . Then I will  ask that worthy mother or the father ( if cooking comes under his portfolio) to teach their offspring how to make the basic food items..It is a basic requirement for a house wife whether in India or outside.
    Still if I am not able to find a girl for my son, I will repeat my father’s words to me some forty years ago, ” entha ponnai veanalum kootikkindu kaalile vishuda. Aasirvatham pannaren” I was thirty five then. See my ‘Oh parmasukam’ story.
    Now let me go to the other side of the table.
    A. Sri.Muralidharan’s main objection is that he did not  mention that girls should not study beyond SSLC and it was my invention. Agreed.  But when he suggested of early marriage, this is how I worked out : 16 years for matriculation + 6years for inter and graduation + 2 years at least to get the marriage fixed==24 years provided the girl is good in her studies and no hindrance happens in between. Marriage at 24 years is ‘timely’ marriage and not ‘early’ marriage.. He says now that she can work after marriage. I am happy to hear that. Working means earning, earning means ego-so we are back to square one. So, either you have to stop the studies at matriculation level or allow the girl to continue and take up a job, and meet the consequences , good as well as bad.  Or choose a girl who will agree not to work, post marriage.
    Let me also clarify to my friend that I am not for our boys marrying girls from other religions; but that happens because our sons opt for that.
    B. ” Girls’ empowerment.Good. The duty of the parents is only to ensure that their sons (a) get good education, (b) select their partners and (c) forget their parents. These are the days when female partners have the right to take care of their aged parents and their relatives, and not allow any of the inlaws into their houses. If the husband wants to see his parents, he may seek for permission from his wife to go alone, once a while.  If the husband wants to talk to his parents over phone, he should not do so inside the house. If the husband wants to show his son or daughter to his parents, the husband should again seek permission from his wife, and if she keeps mum,  the husband should silently withdraw his desire, for the sake of family peace. Since girls go for decent jobs, and earn a decent salary, they no longer depend on their husbands financially. But, they need husbands, JUST FOR SECURITY – “a dignified servant” in the name of husband. Luckily, these days, parents also do not depend on their sons financially. Idiotic parents crave for affection. They should avoid this expectation, and use their hard earned money by supporting old age homes and orphanages, because they themselves may have to depend on such old age homes or orphanages one day or the other. This is the case with more than 90% of the families. Let us all encourage Girls’ empowerment”- This was the 2nd mail. I am not mentioning the author’s name as it did not come through the forum.
    It is true that in some families this is happening though I do not believe the % given .Anyway, it is unfortunate ; it should not happen even in one single family. So, what the solution ? Select a semi literate girl as bride so that she has no possibility of taking up a job, which is the cause of her harassing, as per the suggestion in the above post. How many of our boys are prepared to accept such girls?
    How is it that we became so helpless before a mere woman who came yesterday to our family ? And how is that our sons became their ‘slaves’ and stooped so low as to neglect their parents ?
    Is it that the way we brought up our children was defective? Or is it that, our extreme emotional attachment is playing the spoil sport ?
    One thing is certain. You cannot stop the aspiration of girls for higher education and also their taking up jobs. At the most, while going to see the girl, you can ask whether she is prepared to sit at home and do the embroidery and watch TV and if the reply is negative, put down the bajji you have picked up for biting and come out  There are good hotels on your way back home .
    But be prepared that your son might bring home a girl of his choice within a couple of weeks or months  who will sing during your evening prayer time, ‘Yesunathar pesinal avar enna pesuvar?’
    Love and regards,
    sperinkulam
    ———————————————————————————————————————————————————–
    Comments :
    Wah Wah Wah Wah………………… oh my God, I enjoyed it completely reading your below reply message… A very good and valuable piece right from the word start to the end.
    I love that last sentence…… Yesunadhar…………….pesuvar.
    Kind Regards
    Shanti
    ————————————————————————————–
    To iyer123 yahoo group, govindlala@yahoo.co.in, sivaratna@hotmail.com
    Dear Members,I read Sri Muralidharan’s views with interest.I am  unable to agree with him on this one issue, while still holding him in high regard and fully respecting his right to hold and air his views.I heartily second Sri Sivasubramanian’s response and he has spared me the effort to type out a long comment.
    I also noted in particular  the following comment in Sri Muralidharan’s post :
    “Many women rights activists may not agree with some of the points above. Let them allow their girls to explore all the men in the world. Let us not disturb them. Let sensible Brahmins take care of their own wards”
    This prompted me to  sent this post and the first two responses received yesterday from Sri Raju Iyer and Sri Sivasubramanian to a lady blogger friend of mine who writes on women’s issues.
    After editing out names of persons and communities/ religions, she has posted this on her blog with her comments interspersed.
    Members who are curious may like to visit the link and see what response this has elicited from her readers who are mostly women but also include some men like me.
    http://indianhomemaker.wordpress.com/2011/09/30/early-and-arranged-marriages-within-the-community-prevent-social-ills/
    There are already 24 comments, as I write this and I expect many more in the next two days.
    Regards
    GV
    The link to my digest compilation which I mentioned in my previous post is given below.http://dl.dropbox.com/u/1523566/Opportunity%20for%20girls%20-%20edited%20version.txtAs mentioned I have replaced the names of persons with their initials and expunged the name of the  community as I wish to circulate this outside the community too.The subject of this  thread is being discussed by readers of a popular blog and the link is:
    http://indianhomemaker.wordpress.com/2011/09/30/early-and-arranged-marriages-within-the-community-prevent-social-ills/
    Regards
    GV
    ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————
    To iyer123@yahoogroups.com
    Dear Sir Periankulam,
    I’ve read many of your mails & am amazed by your command of language & your broad mind.
    you’ve tried to tackle a very complex issue in a very humorous way!
    I simply bow down to your father for his broad mind at THAT TIME & PLACE!
    I am mother & grand mother, both twice & one thing I ‘ve learnt for sure is that your children’s spirits are free & you cannot hold them in a cage-gold or otherwise.
    If they make a choice of partner, our attitude should be-like that of your father, may God bless his soul.
    I am proud to say that my daughter takes care of her in- laws affectionately, mostly because i keep insisting its her duty & her future happiness. No matter the sons may follow their wife’s ‘pallus’in the early days, but in the long term they’ll be happy 7 contended only if they do their duty towards their parents. Otherwise, life is just going to be a struggle for both in the later days, when guilt (of a neglected parent) becomes partner too in their marriage.
    As for expecting the son’s to do their duty, which we indians hold as our RIGHT anyway, entails a very important responsibility on our part- we have to be worthy of that right & so we must do our duty-respect out dIL, her parents, her individuality-that she just cannot be our shadow, and all our advices should be only in the form of suggestions- whispers in the wind.
    Let the parents behave in such a manner, you’ll see that there is no son who does not do his duty. Responsibility of the son entails duty from the parents’ side too, like a coin that has two sides. Lets not forget that.SGShanthi Gopalan, gopalan_shanthi@yahoo.comDear all,
    It might be that Sri.Muralidharan mentioned about people who get married in their late 30s (may be for valid reasons) rather than child marriage (which is not accpetable).
    Personally, I can see genuine concern in his words. Instead of looking at the positive side of it, calling him stupid, in my opinion, doesn’t help.
    I have seen a number of Brahmin boys/girls marrying other community/religion people and getting converted to their religion and started to consume non-vegetarian etc., without any hesitation.
    From my little experience, I also noticed that our community girls and boys lack basic good qualities such as respecting elders, following our tradition and the knowledge as to how the family set up works. (may form only a fraction of our community population, but they exist). Here, it may be that, parents fail to instil these qualities looking only at the money they bring (especially girls).
    Yes, I agree that there should not be any hurdle to freedom in thinking and going forward (of course, not blindly copying western culture). But at the same time accepting our shortcomings and try to find solutions is very important.
    If anybody thinks that by studying a degree or pretending to be thinking ahead, one automatically gets the right to tell everybody to just let go off our custom/tradition or do not even want to consider the ideas to prevent different kinds of attack on our community, they should be called stupid and I don’t think they have any right to continue in this group, which is obviously back dated and believes in values and tradition.
    Regards,
    Vijayakumar, vijay_ms56@rediffmail.com
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    hi sir.i really enjoyed the last line more than anything else in the article.What u have written is absolutely true with reference to the fussy yardsticks used by our people while looking out for matches.regards.shanthy

    Mrs.C.V.Shanthy.
        Principal,Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya,
        Vythiri,Wayanad-Kerala.673576.
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    Dear Sir,

    Again i am replying only to u and not to the forum. I am sorry Sir, the percentage of the cases mentioned by me in my earlier mail is really high. In many cases, this happens even if the girl is only a housewife and has no independent earning. In one case, She pretended as if her misbehaviour and shouting was due to a psychiatric problem, the husband consulted a Psychiatrist, and as per the Psychiatrist’s advice, he secured a small job for her, just to avoid her remaining idle throughout the day, even though her husband earns 50 times of her salary and she has no necessity to go and work under anyone. She is perfectly alright in the work place, with her parents, sisters, etc. but becomes wild only with her husband just because, the husband is unable to severe connections with her inlaws who reside several hundred miles away. It is an attitudinal problem with most of the girls now-a-days. They simply hate the in laws, and openly claim that they do not want their husband’s affection to be shared by others.  The boys are helpless. This is the reason for the sudden upsurge of several “Associations for Men’s protection” and similar “Association for Mother in laws’ protection” in almost all cities and towns in India. The girls easily blame  their husbands with mental torture and harassment, and all the Laws are in their favour. Will any God fearing parent advise his/her son to leave his wife and come out? I know several cases, where the boys’ parents silently suffer and sacrifice. Ofcourse, these days, all parents have money, but they are unable to develop detachment towards the sons so fondly brought up.
    Abour your suggestions for NO CONDITION from Bridegroom’s side, this has already come into practice.
    One more information Sir, if u analyse, u can find that divorcee girls easily get remarried, but divorcee boys do not get girls. There was an illeterate divorced girl – with limping leg, but she got married to a boy – with good qualifications and job, HE IS NOT A DIVORCEE.This is his first marriage.

    I do not escape the feeling that over a period, we have overplayed mother in law’s torture, husbands’ torture, married girls’ sufferings, etc, in cinemas, TV serials, and even in upanyasams, – and we are reaping the results. That is why i could not digest the mails encouraging women’s empowerment, since the males already have  enough of it. SR

  • Materials are immaterial..

    Lamps, the oil or ghee we pour in it, the wick we use, the bell, the conch,the idols or pictures, flowers, incense sticks- and many such items are not the essence or core of our worship ; those are only aids, tools or instruments to provide an ideal ambiance. So are the temples and the idols in them too.These are only symbols and not the substance . Our ancestors have suggested certain guidelines depending on various factors, such as the place, time and nature of worship, availability of the materials etc and those guidelines are flexible depending on the circumstances. For example, while in India, I conduct homams using sacks-full of cow dung cakes and wooden chips and samiths, and liters of ghee, the flame raising high and smoke spreading all over the house and outside. But when I am in my children’s houses in America or in other foreign lands, if I insist for such an arrangement, they will buy a ticket for my return trip, by the next available flight. So,I go with the vaadhyar and appreciate the way he develops the sacred fire in a small copper vessel , using coconut halves, camphor and smoke free cakes .

    When we pray, we are eager to take our soul close to the God, to achieve absolute peace and happiness. Surroundings play an important role in this. Early morning, after a bath in the Kalpathy river facing the Viswanathaswamy kovil or in the Perinkulam or Pallavur ponds facing the raising sun, when I collect a clubbed-palm-full of water and offer arkyam to the visible divinity in the sky, my soul almost reaches that Heavenly bliss. The pleasure and satisfaction is beyond words. That expands manifold when I perform the same worship on the banks of the River Ganges. Despite tuning my mind to adjust to the circumstances, sometime, I do not get the same satisfaction when I perform my morning worship, in Baltimore or Florida, standing on the deck or garden surrounded by oaks or palm trees, facing at the sun and sometime facing the blank sky when sun is not available .Ideally, I should not feel the difference because the aim is the same. The same Sun God is in front of me high in the sky. But, I have not achieved that state of mind and maturity yet.
    In my children’s houses, vegetable oil used for cooking is used for the lamps too. While sitting before them for my evening prayers, I used to imagine that I had before me a brilliantly polished, conventional brass lamps or kutthuvilakku, ignited with the help of cows-ghee or sesame oil, five set of wicks shining all around the lamp. Now I am used to the small silver lamp, with edible oil in it.
    Aids or tools, surroundings or ambiance do play an important role in worship as in many other activities but over- emphasizing their importance is unnecessary.. I adore the intentionally ill-lit inner sanctum of the Anathapadmanabha ; some mystic power remains unrevealed in that garbgraham, inner sanctum.I do not derive the same feeling from the well lit abode of Sree Ranganathar. The powerful tube lights reveal too much. But that does not mean that one deity is superior to the other.
    It is like saying that food served on the plantain leaf is tastier than the same food served in a plate, though the moment I enter a marriage hall, the first thing I normally do is enter the kitchen and look for plantain leaves stacked in a corner !
    When your prayers are soaked in bakthi, it is immaterial whether you use gingerly oil or vegetable oil . Any oil will ignite it. The Shridi saint ignited lamps with water, they say.
    Baltimore,
    Sept 27, 2011
    This was in response to a query about the oil to be used in lamps lit during worship.
    Comments

    Lamp: materials are immaterial..

    Oct 10, 2011

    Dear SP,
    I am inclined to agree with you that the properties for a Puja is secondary while the Bhava of Bhakti is more important. Baltimore or Pazhavangadi is immaterial. But being mortals soaked in traditions, it is pretty difficult to attain that abstract stage; It is bound to take time and one’s capacity of concentration.
    Regards,
    N Raghupathy, D6/14, Kendriya Vihar, Yelahanka, Bangalore 560064; Tel: 22930014 / (M) 9844172976
    Dear Sir,
    Very nicely written article. I presume that you mean
    ‘gingelly oil’ when you write ‘gingerly’ oil.
    Regards

    V Sethuraman