Thursday, 15 February 2024

My Maternal Grandparents!AMMA-APPA!


I write this in memory and tribute to my grandfather and grandmother. 
It was a mere passing remark by my mother's nephew. 
He asked my mother as to what would have happened if her father , who was serving as Magistrate of Cochin state during British rule,had not resisted and just 'nodded his head' to what that Mopla Muslim had offered him!
The family, in that distant past ,would not have had to go through such sufferings!

And this is what my mother told him : What you are today in life with so much comfort is due to the integrity and the past actions of our elders!

I shall just relate what I have heard and retained in my memory. 
Sadly , there is no one of that era alive to corroborate or question those facts.

My grandfather was the only son of his parents. 
He was born in the village of Kalpathy,Palakkad district of Kerala state.
He was the first graduate from the village who was fluent in Samskritam ,Tamil, Malayalam as well as English. 
And that led him to secure the prestigious job of Magistrate in those times.
Being extremely upright and honest people were extremely respectful towards him.
I recall my mother telling me what her mother had told her. 
People passing their residence, would lower their umbrellas or remove their turbans out of respect.
My grandmother had been strictly prohibited to make neighbourhood visits or invite people for fear of being influenced and seeking favours.
During the afternoons after lunch , grandfather would take his siesta as it was the usual norm. 
Outside , there would be an orderly keeping watch.
However, one day my grandfather found a man from the Muslim community sitting indoors waiting for him.
Both surprise and agitation caught hold of him.
This man had come with sacks of grain along with gold and silverware. 
With great humility, he placed them in front of the magistrate begging for some favour in return.
The favour was to 'do away' with certain legal files wherein this man had been implicated for committing some fraudery.
Very rightly , my grandfather reacted in rage and forced this person out of the house along with the booty he had brought as offering.
The next person to be taken to task was the orderly whose duty was to guard the place.
What enticement had he been given to let such a person inside the home?
After this incident , my grandfather found that in his workplace there were some weird changes.
Documents under his jurisdiction had been removed without his permission. 
Unable to influence my grandfather, this crook having been insulted had approached a more pliable and compliant person to achieve his goal. 
Those very files connected with the man  were missing.
It was a very serious situation. 
He was questioned for which he had no answers.
Now he was facing scrutiny. 
After having served as magistrate for 10 years , he was obliged to submit his resignation.
This injustice took a very heavy toll on him mentally as well as on the whole family. 
For weeks, he would sit on the shore of the village tank and stare into nothing.
He went into a shell and my courageous grandmother had to come to fore for the upkeep of the family.
Indeed , as every Hindu woman is ascribed to be Shakti - Strength she stood up to the test.
Those days , at the time of marriage , Hindu girls were always gifted gold ornaments as Stree Dhan - not dowry. 
This gold used to be a stand-by in times of need.
My grandmother used the gold for providing food for the whole family. 
Later on, things changed for the better when my grandfather overcame this depression and joined the Military Accounts Department and was posted in the North of India. 
However, at times I wonder, had it not been for this incident , the whole history of our family would have been different!
Their ancestral roots were severed.
The old order changed yielding place to new.....
My mother was admitted to a Marathi school in Hingne. 
My uncles took up jobs in Pune and Kolkata.

The moral of this chapter in the history of our family is to illustrate that despite all the unjust and unfair travails that my grandparents went through, their integrity was solid.
Their indomitable courage brought them through the storms of life and they could face the world straight in the eye with no regrets!

My mother's nephew heard through all that my mother related and indeed had to bow down his head in respect to the innate integrity of our grandfather.

We all need to remind ourselves about the adage: 
The sins of the father are visited upon the sons!
That itself is warning , enough to be what one should be!
My humble and sincere Namaskarams to my Grandparents and My Dear Mother.ЁЯЩПЁЯХЙЁЯк╖








 


Thursday, 14 September 2023

рд╢реНрдпрд╛рдорд▓рд╛рд▓ рдФрд░ рд▓рд╛рд▓рдЬреА !

рдпрд╣ рд╕рддреНрдп рдШрдЯрдирд╛ рд╣реИ.
рдмрд╣реБрдд рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдмреАрдд рдЪреБрдХреЗ рдкрд░рдиреНрддреБ рд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐рдпрд╛рдБ рд╕реНрдкрд╖реНрдЯ рд░реВрдк рд╕реЗ рдорди-рдмреБрджреНрдзрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдВрдХрд┐рдд рд╣реИрдВ.
рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдШрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рдЕрд╣реАрд░ рдЬрдЧрдиреНрдирд╛рде ( рдлрддреЗрд╣рдкреБрд░ рдмрд┐рдЫреБрд╡рд╛) рдЧреИрдпрд╛ рд▓рд╛рдХрд░ , рддрд╛рдЬрд╛ рджреВрдз рджреБрд╣рд╛ рдХрд░рддрд╛ рдерд╛.рдирд╛рдиреА -рдирд╛рдирд╛ рд╕рд╛рде рдореЗрдВ рдереЗ.
рд╣рдо рдмрд╣реБрдд рдЫреЛрдЯреЗ рдереЗ.
рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЕрдиреЗрдХ рд╡рд░реНрд╖реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдкрд░реНрдпрдиреНрдд рдЬрдЧрдиреНрдирд╛рде рдЫреВрдЯ рдЧрдпрд╛.
рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдлрд╛рдлрд╛рдордК рд╕реЗ рд╢реНрдпрд╛рдорд▓рд╛рд▓ рджреВрдз рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╕рд╛рдЗрдХрд▓ рдкрд░ рд▓рд╛рдпрд╛ рдХрд░рддрд╛ рдерд╛.рдиреЗрдХ рдЖрджрдореА рдерд╛.
рдХрдИ рджрд┐рдиреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рджреВрдз рдореЗрдВ рдорд▓рд╛рдИ рдХрдо рдирд┐рдХрд▓ рд░рд╣реА рдереА рдФрд░ рджрд╣реА рднреА рдкрд╛рдиреА -рдкрд╛рдиреА рд╕рд╛ рдЬрдо рд░рд╣рд╛ рдерд╛.
рд╣рдо рдЬрдм рдЙрд╕рд╕реЗ рд╢рд┐рдХрд╛рдпрдд рдХрд░рддреЗ рддреЛ рд╡рд╣ рдХрд╣рддрд╛ рдерд╛  : рджреАрджреА рдЬреА ,  рдЖрдкрдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╣рдо рджреВрдз рдЕрд▓рдЧ рд╕реЗ рд▓рд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ .рдЦрд╛рд▓рд┐рд╕ рджреВрдз рджреЗрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ.....рдЖрдк рдРрд╕рд╛ рдХреИрд╕реЗ рдХрд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ???
рдЕрдм рд╕рдВрд╕рд╛рд░ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕ рдкрд░ рд╣реА рдЪрд▓рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдпрд╣реА рд╢рд╛рд╢реНрд╡рдд рд╕рддреНрдп рд╣реИ!
рд╣рдо рд▓реЛрдЧ рд╢реНрдпрд╛рдорд▓рд╛рд▓ рд╕реЗ рджреБрдЦреА рдереЗ рдкрд░ рд╡рд╣ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдИрдорд╛рдирджрд╛рд░реА рдкрд░ рдЕрдбрд╛ рд░рд╣рддрд╛.
рдЙрд╕реА рд╕рдордп рдХреБрдЫ рдорд╛рд╣ рдкреВрд░реНрд╡, рдШрд░ рдкрд░ рд▓рд╛рд▓рдЬреА рдХрд╛ рдЖрдЧрдорди рдкреНрд░рддрд╛рдкрдЧрдв рд╕реЗ рд╣реБрдЖ рдерд╛.
рдШрд░ рдХреА рд╢реБрджреНрдзреА  рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рдорди рд╕реЗ рдХрд░рддрд╛ рдерд╛ рдФрд░ рдЦреБрд╢ рдорд┐рдЬрд╛рдЬ рднреА рдерд╛.
рдмрдЧреАрдЪреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдкрд╛рдиреА рджреЗрдирд╛ рдФрд░ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдЯрд┐рдкреНрдкреВ рдЬреА рдФрд░ рдмрдВрд╕реА рднреИрдпреНрдпрд╛ рдХреЛ рд╢рд╛рдо рдХреЛ рдШреБрдорд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛рдо рднреА рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд░рддрд╛ рдерд╛.
рдмрд╣реБрдд рд╕рднреНрдп рдерд╛.

рд╢реНрдпрд╛рдорд▓рд╛рд▓ рджреВрд░ рдлрд╛рдлрд╛рдордК рд╕реЗ рдЖрддрд╛ рдерд╛ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕ рдХрд╛рд░рдг 4 рд▓реАрдЯрд░ рджреВрдз рдЙрдмрд╛рд▓рдирд╛, рдлрд┐рд░ рдардВрдбрд╛ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдлреНрд░рд┐рдЬ рдореЗрдВ рд░рдЦрдирд╛ рдмрд╣реБрдд рдорд╣рдирдд рд▓рдЧрддреА рдереА  ( рдЧрд░рдо рд░рд╕реЛрдИ рдореЗрдВ рдкрд╕реАрдирд╛ -рдкрд╕реАрдирд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рддреЗ ) рдФрд░ рджреЗрд░ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рддреА рдереА.
рдЬрдм рдПрдХ рджрд┐рди рд▓рд╛рд▓рдЬреА рдмреЛрд▓рд╛ - "рдмрд╣рдирдЬреА , рд╣рдо рд╣рд╛рд░реНрдореЛрдирд┐рдпрдо рдмрдЬрд╛рдИ рдХрд╛? рд╣рдо рднрдЬрди рдЧрд╛рдЗрдмреЛ.рдФрд░ рджреВрдз рднреА рдЙрдмрд╛рд▓ рджреИрдмреЛ"ред
рд╣рдо рджреЛ рдмрд╣рдиреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рд╕реЛрдЪрд╛- рдЕрд░реЗ рдпрд╣ рддреЛ рдХрдорд╛рд▓ рдХрд╛ рдЖрджрдореА рд╣реИ ! 
рдЧрд░рдо рд░рд╕реЛрдИ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рдо рджреВрдз рдЙрдмрд╛рд▓рддреЗ-рдЙрдмрд╛рд▓рддреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд╣реА рдкрд╕реАрдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕реНрдирд╛рди рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд░рддреЗ рдереЗ. рдЗрд╕рдиреЗ рддреЛ рд╣рдореЗрдВ рдРрд╕реА рджрд╢рд╛ рд╕реЗ рдмрдЪрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рдХрд░ рджреА !рд╣рдо рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рдЧрджрдЧрдж рд╣реЛрдХрд░ рдПрдХрджрдо рдорд╛рди рдЧрдП.
рдЕрдм рдЙрдиреНрд╣реАрдВ рджрд┐рдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рд╣реИ , рдореЗрд░реА рдПрдХ рд╕рд╣реЗрд▓реА рдХреЗ рдмреЗрдЯреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЬрдиреНрдо 
рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдШрд░ рдХреЗ рдкрд╛рд╕ рдкреНрд░рдЪрд▓рд┐рдд рдХрдорд▓рд╛ рдиреЗрд╣рд░реВ рд╣рд╛рд╕реНрдкрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд╣реБрдЖ.
рд╣рдо рддреАрдиреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рднреА рдпрд╣реАрдВ рдЬрдиреНрдо рд╣реБрдЖ рдерд╛.рдореЗрд░реА рдмреЗрдЯреА рдФрд░ рдмреЗрдЯреЗ рдХрд╛ рднреА!
рддреЛ рдЙрд╕ рд╕рдВрдзреНрдпрд╛ рд╣рдо рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рдмрд╣рдиреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рд╡рд╣рд╛рдБ рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛.
рдШрд░ рдкрд░ рдЙрд╕ рд╢рд╛рдо рдХреЛ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рдмреБрдЖ рдХрд╛ рдмреЗрдЯрд╛ рдФрд░ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдирд┐рдХрдЯрд╕реНрде рдмрдиреНрдзреБ рдереЗ.
рд╣рдо рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдд рд╢рд┐рд╢реБ рдХреЛ рджреЗрдЦрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд┐рддреНрд░ рдмрд╛рдд рд╕реБрдиреА.
рдЙрд╕рдХрд╛ рд╣реГрджрдп рджрд╛рд╣рд┐рдиреА рдУрд░ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░рдг рдЙрд╕рдХреЛ рдкрд░реАрдХреНрд╖рдг рдореЗрдВ рд░рдЦрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рдерд╛. рд╕реБрдирд╛ рдРрд╕рд╛ рдмрд╣реБрдд рд╣реА рдХрдо рд╣реЛрддрд╛ рд╣реИ.
рдЬрдм рд╣рдо рдШрд░ рд╡рд╛рдкрд╕ рдЖрдП рддреЛ рд▓рд╛рд▓рдЬреА рджреВрдз рдЙрдмрд╛рд▓ рдЪреБрдХрд╛ рдерд╛.
рдФрд░ рдХреБрдЫ рджреЗрд░ рдмрд╛рдж рд╡рд╣ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдШрд░ рдЪрд▓рд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛.

рддрдм рдмреБрдЖ рдХреЗ рдмреЗрдЯреЗ рдиреЗ рдмрддрд╛рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдмрд╛рд░-рдмрд╛рд░ рд▓рд╛рд▓рдЬреА рдЙрди рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдкрд╛рд╕ рдЖрдХрд░ рдкреВрдЫ рд░рд╣рд╛ рдерд╛ -рднреИрдпрд╛ рдЪрд╛ рдмрдирд╛ рджреЗрдИ рдХрд╛? 
рдХреБрдЫ рдЦреИрдмреЛ рдХрд╛ ? рдХреБрдЫ рдЪрд╛рд╣реА рдХрд╛ ?

рд╕рд╛рде - рд╕рд╛рде, рд░рд╕реЛрдИ рдореЗрдВ рджреВрдз рдЙрдмрд╛рд▓рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рд░реВрдкрдХ рднреА рд░рдЪ рд░рд╣рд╛ рдерд╛ред рдЖрд╢реНрд╡рд╕реНрдд рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╣реЗрддреБ , рд▓рд╛рд▓рдЬреА рдмреАрдЪ-рдмреАрдЪ рдореЗрдВ рдмрдбреЗ рдХрдорд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЖрдХрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдЪреМрдХреАрджрд╛рд░реА рднреА рдХрд░ рд░рд╣рд╛ рдерд╛!
рд╡рд╛рд╕реНрддрд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдмреБрдЖ рдХреЗ рдмреЗрдЯреЗ рдФрд░ рдорд┐рддреНрд░ рдиреЗ рдЙрд▓реНрдЯрд╛ рд▓рд╛рд▓рдЬреА рдкрд░ рдЪреМрдХреАрджрд╛рд░ рдХрд░реА рдереА.
рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рджреЗрдЦрд╛ рдХрд┐ : 
рджреВрдз рдЙрдмрд╛рд▓рдиреЗ рдкрд░реНрдпрдиреНрдд рдПрдХ рдмрд░реНрддрди (3/4 рд▓реАрдЯрд░ рдХрд╛) рдореЗрдВ рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рджреВрдз рдирд┐рдХрд╛рд▓ рдХрд░ рдардВрдбрд╛ рдХрд░рдХреЗ рдЧрдкрд╛-рдЧрдк рдкреА рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рдФрд░ рдлрд┐рд░ рдЙрд╕реА рдмрд░реНрддрди рдореЗрдВ рдЬрд▓ рднрд░рдХрд░ рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рднрдЧреМрдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдбрд╛рд▓ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ !

рдпрд╣ рдерд╛ рдХрдо рдорд▓рд╛рдИ рд▓рдЧрдиреЗ рдФрд░ рджрд╣реА рдХрд╛ рдкрд╛рдиреА -рдкрд╛рдиреА рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд╛рд╕реНрддрд╡рд┐рдХ рдХрд╛рд░рдг! рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдорд┐рд▓рдХрд░ рд░рд╣рд╕реНрдп рдХрд╛ рдЕрдирд╛рд╡рд░рдг рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ !
рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рд░рд╕реЛрдИ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╣рд░ рд╣рд╕реНрдд рдкреНрд░рдХреНрд╖рд╛рд▓рди рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдПрдХ рдирд▓ рд╣реБрдЖ рдХрд░рддрд╛ рдерд╛ рдФрд░ рдЙрд╕реА рдХреЗ рдКрдкрд░ рдПрдХ рджрд░реНрдкрдг рднреА рд▓рдЧрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рдерд╛. 

рд▓рд╛рд▓рдЬреА рдиреЗ рдмрд░реНрддрди рдХрд╛ рд╕рдм рджреВрдз рдкреАрдХрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдореВрдВрдЫреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рддрд╛рд╡ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдХрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╕реВрд░рдд рдмрд╛рд░-рдмрд╛рд░ рджрд░реНрдкрдг рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд░рд╛рд╣рд╛ .
рдФрд░ рд╕реЛрдЪрд╛ рдмрд╕ рд╕рдм рдХреБрдЫ рдареАрдХ-рдареАрдХ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛.
рдЙрд╕реЗ рдХреНрдпрд╛ рдкрддрд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЪреЛрд░ рдХреА рдЪреЛрд░реА рдкрдХрдбреА рдЧрдИ рдереА.

рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рдорд╛рдБ рдиреЗ рд▓рд╛рд▓рдЬреА рд╕реЗ рдХреБрдЫ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд╣рд╛.
рдХреНрдпрд╛ рдХрд╣рддреЗ.....?рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рджреВрдз рдЙрдмрд╛рд▓рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛рд░реНрдп рд╣рдо рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдкреБрди: рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛.

рдкрд░рдиреНрддреБ рдЙрд╕реА рдмреАрдЪ рдПрдХ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд┐рддреНрд░ рдмрд╛рдд рдШрдЯреА.
рдЙрди рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдШрд░ рдзрд░реНрдордпреБрдЧ рдирд╛рдордХ рдПрдХ рдкреНрд░рдЪрд▓рд┐рдд рдкрддреНрд░рд┐рдХрд╛ рдЖрддреА рдереА.
рдЙрд╕рдореЗрдВ рдмрдЪреНрдЪреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдХреБрдЫ рд╡рд┐рд╢рд┐рд╖реНрдЯ рдХрд╣рд╛рдиреА-рд▓реЗрдЦ рд╣реБрдЖ рдХрд░рддреЗ рдереЗ.
рдФрд░ рдпрд╣ рдХрд╣рд╛рдиреА рд╣рдордиреЗ рдкрдвреА!
рдПрдХ рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рди рдерд╛ рдЬреЛ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рджрд┐рди рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЦреЗрддреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрд╛рдХрд░ рдХрд╛рдо рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд░рддрд╛ рдерд╛.
рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рди рдХреА рдкрддреНрдиреА рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдкрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рднреЛрдЬрди рдПрдХ рд╕рд╣рд╛рдпрдХ рдХреЗ рд╣рд╛рде рднреЗрдЬрд╛ рдХрд░рддреА рдереА.
рдПрдХ рджрд┐рди рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рд╕рд╣рд╛рдпрдХ рд╕реЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ : 
рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдореЗрдВ 12 рдорд╛рд╣ рд╣реЛрддреЗ рд╣реИ.
рдЪрдиреНрджреНрд░рдорд╛ рдкреВрд░реНрдг рдкреБрд▓рдХрд┐рдд рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдирджреА рдореЗрдВ рднрд░рдкреВрд░ рдЬрд▓ рд╣реИ.
рдЗрд╕рдХрд╛ рдореЗрд░реЗ рдкрддрд┐ рд╕реЗ рдЙрддреНрддрд░ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдЖрдирд╛.

рд╢рд╛рдо рдХреЛ рдЬрдм рд╕рд╣рд╛рдпрдХ рдШрд░ рдЖрдпрд╛ рддреЛ рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рди рдХрд╛ рдЙрддреНрддрд░ рджреЛрд╣рд░рд╛рдпрд╛.
рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдореЗрдВ 7 рдорд╛рд╣ рд╣реИрдВ, рдЕрд░реНрдзрдЪрдиреНрджреНрд░ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдирджреА рдореЗрдВ рдЬрд▓ рдХрдо рд╣реИ.

рдЕрдм рд░рд╣рд╕реНрдп рдХрд╛ рдЕрдирд╛рд╡рд░рдг рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕рд╣рд╛рдпрдХ рдХреА рдЫреБрдЯреНрдЯреА рд╣реЛ рдЧрдИ !
рд░реЛрдЬ рд╡рд╣ 5 рд░реЛрдЯрд┐рдпрд╛рдБ рдФрд░ рдЖрдзрд╛ рднрд╛рдЧ рдирд╡рдиреАрдд рдЦрд╛ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдКрдкрд░ рд╕реЗ рдЖрдзрд╛ рд▓реЛрдЯрд╛ рдордЯреНрдард╛ рднреА рдкреА рдЬрд╛рддрд╛.

рд▓рд╛рд▓рдЬреА рдЙрд╕ рдкреНрд░рд╛рддрдГрдХрд╛рд▓ рдЭрд╛рдбрд╝реВ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рдерд╛.
рд╢реБрдн-рдореБрд╣реВрд░реНрдд рдерд╛ рдФрд░ рд╣рдо рдЕрдкрдиреА рдЪреБрдЯрд┐рдпрд╛ рдмрдирд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗ.
рдЗрд╕ рдХрд╣рд╛рдиреА рдХреЛ рдЙрд╕реЗ рд╕реБрдирд╛рдпрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрд░реНрде рдкреВрдЫрд╛  рддреЛ рд╡рд╣ рдмреМрдЦрд▓рд╛-рд╕рд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛.
рдмреЛрд▓рд╛- "рд╣рдо рдХрд╛ рдЬрд╛рдиреА рдмрд╣рди рдЬреА! рд╣рдо рдирд╛рд╣рд┐ рдЬрд╛рдирдд."
рдкрд░ рд╣реЛрд╢рд┐рдпрд╛рд░ рддреЛ рдерд╛ рд╡рд╣.
рдЪреЛрд░ рдХреА рджрд╛рдвреА рдореЗрдВ рддрд┐рдирдХрд╛. рд╕рдордЭ рдЧрдпрд╛.

рдХреБрдЫ рджрд┐рдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдлрд┐рд░ рд╣рд╛рде рдорд╛рд░рд╛!
рдЗрд╕ рдмрд╛рд░ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛рдЬреА рдХреЗ рдорд╣рдВрдЧреЗ рдлрд╛рдЙрдиреНрдЯрди рдкреЗрди рдЧрд╛рдпрдм рдХрд┐рдП рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрддрдд: рдкреВрдЬрд╛рдЧреГрд╣ рд╕реЗ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рдкреВрдЬреНрдп рдирд╛рдиреА рдЬреА рдХрд╛ рдкреВрдЬрд┐рдд рдЪрд╛рдВрджреА рдХрд╛ рд╢рд╛рд▓рд┐рдЧреНрд░рд╛рдо рдХреА рдЪреЛрд░реА рдХрд░реА.
рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рд╕рдм рд╣рдж рдкрд╛рд░ рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдП рдереЗ !
рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдкрд░реНрдпрдиреНрдд рдЙрд╕рдХрд╛ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдШрд░ рд╕реЗ рдирд╛рддрд╛ рдЫреВрдЯ рдЧрдпрд╛.
рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рдорд╛рдВ рдХрд╛ рд╣реГрджрдп рдЗрддрдирд╛ рд╢реБрджреНрдз рдФрд░ рдФрд░ рдХреЛрдорд▓ рдерд╛.
рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗрдВ рдЙрд╕реЗ рд╕рдордЭрд╛рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЪреЛрд░реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд░рдиреА рдЪрд╛рд╣рд┐рдП. 
рдорд╛рдВрдЧ рд▓реЗрдирд╛ рдмреЗрд╣рддрд░ рд╣реИ.....
рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд╡рд╣ рдХрд░рддрд╛ рднреА рдХреНрдпрд╛ ? рдЕрдкрдиреА рдЖрджрдд рд╕реЗ рдордЬрдмреВрд░!
рдХрд╣рд╛рд╡рдд рд╕рдЪреНрдЪреА рд╣реИ : рдХреБрддреНрддреЗ рдХреА рджреБрдо, рдЯреЗрдвреА рдХреА рдЯреЗрдвреА!
3 - 4 рдШрдВрдЯреЗ рдЦрдбрд╝рд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рдкрд░ рди рдХреНрд╖рдорд╛ рдорд╛рдВрдЧреА рди рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдЕрдкрд░рд╛рдз рд╕реНрд╡реАрдХрд╛рд░ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛!
рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдЙрд╕рдХрд╛ рдЙрддрдирд╛ рд╣реА рдмрдиреНрдзрди рдерд╛!
рдЪрд▓рд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛. рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рди рдЙрд╕реЗ рджреЗрдЦрд╛ рди рдЙрд╕рдХреА рдЦрдмрд░ рдорд┐рд▓реА!

рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд▓рд╛рд▓рдЬреА рдХреА рд╣реЛрд╢рд┐рдпрд╛рд░реА рдЕрдм рднреА рдорди рдХреЛ рдЧреБрджрдЧреБрджрд╛ рджреЗрддреА рд╣реИ.
рдХреИрд╕реА рдЪрд╛рд▓рд╛рдХреА рд╕реЗ рджреВрдз рдкреАрдирд╛ рдФрд░ рдкрд╛рдиреА рд╕реЗ рдкреВрд░рд╛ рдХрд░ рджреЗрдирд╛!!!
рджреВрд╕рд░реА рдУрд░, рдмреЗрдЪрд╛рд░рд╛ рд╢реНрдпрд╛рдорд▓рд╛рд▓ ! рд╡реНрдпрд░реНрде рд╣реА рд╣рдо рдЙрд╕рдкрд░ рд╢рдВрдХрд╛ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗ рдЬрдм рдХреА рдЪреЛрд░ рддреЛ рдШрд░ рдХреЗ рдЕрдиреНрджрд░ рд╣реА рдерд╛!!!
рдХрд╣рд╛рд╡рдд рдХрд┐рддрдирд╛ рд╕рдЪ рд╣реИ: 
рдЕрдЬрдм рддреЗрд░реА рджреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧреЫрдм рдЗрдВрд╕рд╛рди
рдкрд╛рдк рдХрд░реЗ рдкрд╛рдкреА рднрд░реЗ рдкреБрдгреНрдпрд╡рд╛рди!!!











Tuesday, 6 December 2022

Nostalgie!!!

NOSTALGIE!
Having been born in the North to mixed parentage ( North & South) connect with great ease regarding the soaking and washing of the Earthen Diyas.
Making the cotton wicks ,adding oil with utmost care over the handmade wicks.
Keeping them all ready on wooden trays to be transported to the terrace as well as the garden wall and gate.

My dear Mothe would light the роХрпБродро┐ ро╡ро┐ро▓роХрпНроХрпБ ( kuthi vilakku) that was the centre piece in our Pooja mandapam with 5 wicks one for each of our family member.

Mother would light the lamp talking of her Mother and Father ,adorn kumkumam on the golden bell-metal Kerala -style lamp.
I have it with me today and have been lighting the same with my children and grandchildren.

We all would chant our SHLOKAMs and then chant with folded hands and closed eyes the special SHLOKAM -Mahalakshmyashtakam .

Then all the earthen lamps would be lit and each of us would arrange the lamps with great care equidistantly on the terrace wall, on the garden wall wherever we found space.

According to our dear Father all dark corners and even bathrooms would get a glowing lamp that would spread that exclusive golden light special to oil lamps.

So many memories, so many voices and shadows from the past coming to life vividly !

Sweet and yet so very sad!

My Mother used to quote Shelley a poet she admired no end :

Our sweetest songs are those tell of saddest thought!

Am going to take some liberty by changing this immortal statement to

Our sweetest thoughts are indeed those that are the saddest !

Wonder as to why the past always seems more beautiful than the present!!!

ЁЯЩПЁЯХЙЁЯЩПSHUBHA DEEPAVALIЁЯЩПЁЯХЙЁЯЩП TO ONE & ALL!ЁЯЩПЁЯП╗ЁЯкФЁЯФЖЁЯкФЁЯЩПЁЯП╗

P.S.
And today is the 6th December 2022 and in the South of Bharat we celebrate роХро╛роЯрпНроЯро┐роХрпН родрпАрокроороВ- рдХрд╛рд░реНрддрд┐рдХ рджреАрдкреЛрддреНрд╕рд╡рдореН. 
Thinking of Amma, Mausi, Bai with whom.as a child I recall having made Pori undai (рдЦреАрд▓-рдЧреБрдбрд╝ рдХреЗ рд▓рдбреНрдбреВ and lighting lamps for brothers!
In truth are we not All Brothers & Sisters???
*рд╢реБрднрд╕реНрдп рдХрд╛рд░реНрддрд┐рдХ рджреАрдкреЛрддреНрд╕рд╡* ред
This year Kartik Deepam falls on the same day as 6 years ago and strangely I checked that 19th December 2003 the day Our Dearest Mausi left us was Ekadashi and this year too it is рд╕рдлрд▓рд╛ рдПрдХрд╛рджрд╢реА!
ЁЯЩПЁЯХЙЁЯЩПЁЯХЙЁЯЩП

















Sunday, 2 January 2022

A tale between two cities

The night was a moonless one and the taxi was speeding along the dark road. Not a glimmer of light or a sign of life was evident on either side except for the lights of the car in front.
We the passengers inside were silent.  The silence outside and inside were together in tune mounting towards a crescendo.
At intervals, the gleam in the eyes of the driver would be reflected in the rear-view mirror. My heart was beating at a pace which had been hitherto unknown to me. My mother had in the meantime removed all her jewellery - bangles, ring and diamond ear tops that were gifted by her dear mother. She had tied them all in a handkerchief and slowly lowered them down her 'strumfhose' down to her heels and redonned her shoes.
It was winter and the open countryside bereft of trees, light and human-beings appeared utterly desolate. It stirred within our hearts emotions bordering on the eerie and the bizarre.
The air was bitterly cold and at times one could hear the weird howl of a jackal that heightened our rising anxiety.
At times, fear prompts the brain to think harder and I remembered my black nylon scarf with golden thread checks. If a nylon stocking could do the job so many times, it could be put to use once again in self-defence. My hands and fingers were numb due to fear and the cold. In order to stimulate them I kept on twining and untwining the scarf around my fingers. It would be used to form a noose round the neck of the man.
All of a sudden, as the car was moving, the driver bent left towards the young man seated next to him and pushed the door open and banged shut it hard.
Our hearts were in our mouth! He could have just pushed Sharma out of the taxi!
Forewarned is forearmed. Every action of this driver pointed towards something sinister and unnatural. He had reacted to Sharma's mild request to drive carefully within the holy city of Varanasi most aggressively and rudely. Under normal circumstances, I with my fiery reactive temper would have just told him to halt and would have got off at once.
Here, however, we were caught between the 'deep sea and the devil'. Trapped within a moving taxi driven by a suspicious chauffeur on an utterly cold and dark night ! 
We were relieved to see some far away twinkling lights in the distance and knew that we were nearing human habitation. Actually we were midway between two of the most holy cities of Varanasi and Prayag. It is amazing how emotions ensnare and release us. Fear that had haunted us for such a long distance now just vanished at the sight of tea-stalls, voices of people talking, hurricane lamp lights and buses full of passengers. 
We felt foolish to have undergone such rigours of mortification. Had our imagination stretched too much and too far!
The driver halted the taxi and went off to the tea stall to have some eats and tea. It was then that my mother spoke to Sharma and warned him to be careful asking him to remove his jazzy neck-tie just in case the fellow tried throttling his neck with it.
This was a petrol - refilling station and the driver was told to check oil, water and air so that the last leg of the journey would be smooth without any more hiccups.
The chauffeur was most sulky and boorish in his attitude.
Once again with the taxi in motion darkness loomed all around enveloping us like a cloak. Only the headlights of the moving vehicle were transforming the tall silent sentinels of trees into grotesque ghostly figures with outstretched beckoning arms.
All of a sudden, very strangely without any warning the taxi driver switched on the light inside the taxi. It was indeed very abnormal as it could unduly stress and sap the energy of the battery.
Next he asked us the time. Our earlier interaction had been very unpleasant and none of us replied to this unexpected query. Our voices were frozen due to the cold and darkness within and without. And then he brought the taxi to a complete halt.
It was menacingly dark. And then we heard the rumbling sound of a heavily over-loaded truck. Its head lights lit up our taxi. 
Our taxi driver had got off and was busily rummaging the dicky. I could not but admire my mother's presence of mind. She got out of the taxi and started signing to the truck to halt. Surely the truck driver would have seen her in the powerful headlights but he just sped away leaving us to our descending doom. 
In the meanwhile, I thought I could try driving off  but the scoundrel had got out with the  vehicle keys. 
He was pretending to open the bonnet, meddling with something and then banging the empty petrol and oil cans. One wondered as to why and for what he was waiting in that dark and desolate place! Then as suddenly as he had stopped, he got into the taxi and started speeding in the direction of Prayagaraj our destination. 
In the distance, the headlights lit up a white, newly-painted mile-stone and we saw the words HANDIA written in bold black contrast. 
My mother involuntarily shuddered and held my hand within hers. This place had been recently very much in the news for criminal activity. Possibly this driver had pre-arranged a rendez-vous with some miscreants but somehow something went amiss. 
His lighting up the inside of the taxi, asking us the time and then stopping the vehicle without any cause or warning had all been ulterior and deliberate. 
The timing had most probably and most certainly misfired. After having waited for sometime without any result there was no other option for him but to continue with the journey. His accomplices had somehow failed him. 
What a relief it was especially for my dear mother, to see the twinkling lights of our sacred city of Prayagaraj! We had reached holy Prayagraj after an unholy and agonising drive. 
The gods had been benevolent on us!
This is a true tale and not a tall tale. 
We had heard and still do hear of people being robbed, kidnapped for ransom or even being done to death. 
Often, when my mother and I used to sit together on a wintry evening in the cosy comfort of our home, the mere mention of Varanasi used to make us relive that adventure . 
My very own dear mother has gone away, the holy city of Prayag is far away on another continent but I still have that black, golden- checked gossamer nylon scarf. And it vividly brings back the memory of that winter's night. 
I still often shudder to think of what could have happened had the gods deemed it otherwise!!! 


Friday, 31 December 2021

Memories of Prayag, Ganga River..... !

We both had gone to Mumbai, Bharat after my dear mother's passing away.
It was December 2003.
My brother had performed the last rites being the only son. 
My mother had shifted to Mumbai during her last years after my father's death.
Part of the ashes (рдЕрд╕реНрдерд┐) had been immersed in Nashik and he had kept a part for immersion in Triveni Sangam which is the confluence of Ganga, Yamuna and (рдЧреБрдкреНрдд - рд╡рд╛рд╣рд┐рдиреА) - invisible Sarasvati rivers.
My husband and I took the remaining asthi (рдЕрд╕реНрдерд┐) to Prayagaraj where my parents had spent the major part of their lives.
We had booked a room in the Yatrik Hotel where we stayed as our home in Tagore Nagar did not have electricity and had been uninhabited for quite some time.
After arriving in Prayagaraj, we had the sacred duty to go to Triveni Sangam.
On arrival, we arranged a boat and strangely the people on the banks of the Ganga intuitively got to know the purpose of our visit.
So two people in addition to the boatmen came aboard the boat. 
The boatman (рдорд▓реНрд▓рд╛рд╣) rowed us to the confluence of the 3 rivers. 
The colour of river Ganga is muddy whereas her sister Yamuna is dark bluish - black.
Sarasvati is invisible. 
Today the Sarasvati River has dried up but her sanctity is still preserved and Sarasvati is worshipped. 
Sarasvati Valley civilisation has been extensively studied by archaeologists. 
Bharat is the only country in the world where all our rivers are worshipped as Goddesses with the exception of Brahmaputra who is a male. 

I can see my husband's smiling face wearing a green sweater sitting on the boat and talking to the two men. 
It was a cold winter's day. The far side of the river was Jhusi. One could see  in the distance the Ganga Bridge. One side is the Fort supposedly built by Akbar. 
My husband, always a philosopher asked the elderly man about the state of Hindu Dharmic civilisation. He gave a very pessimistic reply saying it was ebbing away just as the Sarasvati river had dried up. 
It did sadden us. 
After we immersed my mother's ashes we had to give a dakshina (sort of payment ) to the other man. But the money is not handed to him personally. It is thrown into the flowing water and this person actually dives to get the money. 
Certain thoughts were passing through my head at that time. 
My mind was wondering about the transience of our own lives but the reassuring presence of my dearest husband so near to me, prevented me from going that way. 
That was something not for ruminating. 
This is how we humans delude ourselves and play the game of escapism. We humans do not have the courage and strength to face hard truths of life. 
As a child, I had gone boating many times on this very same Ganga when our elders would take the sacred water in their cupped palms and shower the water on our heads. 
This is called Prokshanam  (рдкреНрд░реЛрдХреНрд╖рдгрдореН). 
This is believed to be as good as taking a bath. This is done when a person does not take a holy dip directly in the river. 
Both of us too did the same. 
It is believed in Sanatana Dharma that one drop of Ganga water can wash away sins committed over many lifetimes. 
Infact, there are Mantrams chanted whilst taking bath that are believed to transform and sanctify any water in any country into water as pure and sacred as the waters of the 7 most-revered rivers (Saptasindhu) of Bharat. 
Ganga, Yamuna, Sarasvati, Godavari, Narmada, Sindhu, Kaveri, are the 7 most sacred rivers of Bharat. 

рдЧрдЩреНрдЧреЗ рдЪ рдпрдореБрдиреЗ рдЪреИрд╡ рдЧреЛрджрд╛рд╡рд░рд┐ рд╕рд░рд╕реНрд╡рддрд┐ ред
рдирд░реНрдорджреЗ рд╕рд┐рдиреНрдзреБ рдХрд╛рд╡реЗрд░рд┐ рдЬрд▓реЗрд╜рд╕реНрдорд┐рдиреН рд╕рдВрдирд┐рдзрд┐рдВ рдХреБрд░реБ рее

gaс╣Еge ca yamune caiva god─Бvari sarasvati .
narmade sindhu k─Бveri jaleтАЩsmin saс╣Гnidhiс╣Г kuru ..

Ganga, Yamuna, Saraswati, Godavari Narmada, Sindhu, Kaveri, 
May all these 7 holy rivers become confluent in this water and purify me. 

After immersion of the asthi we returned to Yatrik hotel. 
Today it is more than 7 years that I am alone without my dearest husband. 
He is in my thoughts each second of the day. 
Each morning whilst taking bath I chant this рд╕реНрдирд╛рди mantra and this very scene flashes in my mind's eye. 
I wonder where he is!
On that fatal day, April 30, 2014 I saw my husband lying with eyes closed forever. 
Everyday I relive that scene too. 
His 'asthi' too was immersed in this very Ganga by my son. 

I too shall join him one day and unite with all our dear loved ones gone long before. 
To my mind comes one of the most beautiful Sanskrit Subhashitams...... 

рдЖрдХрд╛рд╢рд╛рддреН рдкрддрд┐рддрдВ рддреЛрдпрдВ рдпрдерд╛рдЧрдЪреНрдЫрддрд┐ рд╕рд╛рдЧрд░рдореН ред
рд╕рд░реНрд╡рджреЗрд╡ рдирдорд╕реНрдХрд╛рд░рдГ рдХреЗрд╢рд╡рдВ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдЧрдЪреНрдЫрддрд┐ рее

─Бk─Б┼Ы─Бt patitaс╣Г toyaс╣Г yath─Бgacchati s─Бgaram .
sarvadeva namask─Бraс╕е ke┼Ыavaс╣Г pratigacchati ..

As the drops of falling rain from the sky reach the ocean; 
So too all the prayers to all the gods ultimately get to Lord Keshava.

My interpretation is different. 
As the drops of falling rain reach the mighty ocean , we two too will join together. 
We two drops will once again attain each other! 
This is my only lasting last wish! 
ЁЯЩПЁЯХЙя╕ПЁЯЩПрд╣рд░рд┐ реР рддрддреН рд╕рддреНЁЯЩПЁЯХЙя╕ПЁЯЩП








Thursday, 16 September 2021

Some childhood reminiscences

 Have been resolving to write a sort of consolidated memory of certain things that I did with my brother & sister.  What we did as children! 

My grandparents whom we called Amma&Appa had taught us Shlokams and we had seen our Pooja being lighted with a lamp both morning and evening. 
Ayya - Bai were our dear Uncle and Aunt. 
Our dear Aunt's name (Periamma =Elder Mother) was KRISHNAMBAL & Uncle's name was Harihara Sharma. 
They were most loving & we 3 children spent 2-3 years altogether in Bombay (Ganesh Bagh, Matunga ) when our parents were away in UK. 
In addition, every summer vacation (for 2 months) we used to go to Bombay to be with them. 

Those were the years - very rich, when I as a child learnt Tamil & Marathi. 
My Periamma had 5 children who were much older than us and they were MOST LOVING. 

Eldest son was called рдЪреВрдбрд╝рд╛рдордгрд┐ and his name was Prabhakar Sharma. 
To us he was ANNA JI- (Elder brother) who told us Tales of Valour about Chattrapati Shivaji Maharaj. Who fought against cruel Muslim rulers especially Aurangzeb the Most cruel of Moghuls. 
Annaji married Sulochana (our famous Manni) who arranged my marriage to Appa. 
Manni passed away about 3 years ago. 

Their children: Usha(in Suisse) , 
Ashok-Poornima and Sushil-Kamala both brothers in Bengaluru. 

Anasuya was our elder sister, then Priyayamvada (whom we called Piri), next Sitaram (who named himself - He told his Father :Mera naam Sitaram) but he was called Baby by all and last brother was Krishna who's wife is Lekha. 

Except for Lekha, all the rest have become memories. 
Anasuya 's husband was Hariharan athimbair. 
Their children are Girija and Vinay. 
Priya' s husband was Balasubramaniam (Balan Athimbair). They did not have any children. 

Then as we grew up in Allahabad with grandparents fading away, we saw our Mother whom we called Mausi light the Pooja Lamp. 

Our paternal grandmother whom we called Dadi also followed the same Hindu ritual. 
Dadi was very orthodox and kept many fasts (jours de jeune) And we used to get delicious PRASAD after Pooja, & Arati. 
This was very normal in our home. 
One ritual that our Mother instilled was to say our Shlokams together in the evening. 

Coming back from school we would finish homework and go out to play but had been told by Mausi to come home as soon as it became dusk. This time is called GO.DHOOLI. Go =cow and Dhuli =dust. 
This is the time when Krishna Bhagavan, the Divine cowherd brought back cows home after grazing. 
And in the rays of the setting sun would be seen the dust raised by the cows coming home. =GO. DHULI! 

You children (Soumyarani & Aditya) know the Shloka :

"Godhuli dhoosarit komal gopavesham 
Gopala balak satai anugamyamanam, 
Sayandanai pratigriham Pashubandhanaartham
Gaschantum achyuta shishum 
Pranatosmi nithyam 

Gidhuli dhoosarit komal kuntalagram 
Govinda Bindu vasanam 
Gopala Balam manasaasmarami

So without fail,DAILY we used to BLINDLY OBEY.
Our parents used to return home LATER in the evening from the University. 
And were usually not at home. 

We would come inside the home , 
wash our feet well. 
And I being eldest and a girl used to light the Pooja Lamp. 
We would spread our special рд╢реНрд▓реЛрдХрдореН straw mat and sit cross - legged and say our Shlokams with closed eyes and folded palms. 

However, we were very naughty. 
My brother and I being very close in years would chant Shlokams at different speeds, race each other and get into a real battle. 
And often my Mother would say :Are you saying your prayers or having a fighting match? 
But saying our рд╢реНрд▓реЛрдХ was something we did regularly and daily. 
And this discipline was due to Amma-Appa, Ayya-Bai, Mausi & our dear Dadi too. 

After saying our Shlokams we would take each family member's name and say Bhagavan, please protect & look after them in every way. 

After saying our Shlokams we would do namaskar in the Pooja room and go to every person in the family and say Namaste to them individually. Age did not matter. 
This was done daly. 

Today too I continue each morning and evening to light the Pooja Lamp. 
And the serene luminosity of the lighted lamp awakens many many hidden memories from the recesses of the mysterious mind.

First it reminds me of Mausi my Mother who gifted me the precious and beautiful Bell metal vilakku as an important part of the gifts given while leaving home with Appa after getting married. (10th March, Monday 1975).

My dear Aunt Bai had given me a Lakshmi-Ganesh framed picture that was at the centre of our Pooja wherever we put up our home.
Those are such sweet precious memories which I shall cherish as long as I am alive! 

As a little girl, seeing dear Bai, my dear dear gentle aunt lighting the lamp in Allahabad home every morning, I recall asking her  :Bai what do you think and pray when you light the vilakku. 
And she would give one of her sweetest smiles and say :O I pray to Bhagavan to keep you all safe, well, healthy and happy.
Such a simple but precious prarthana. 
And this is exactly what I do daily today!
For everyone in the family and also the world to be healthy and happy. 

My Grandmother & Grandfather taught us all the Sanskrit Shlokams that we know and I do marvel at their wisdom, patience and love to have bequeathed to us one of the most precious gifts of life for life! 

We as children (whether our parents were at home or not) came into the house at eventide, washed our hands & feet and would light the lamps (my Mother had two small silver lamps given to her by Amma our grandmother). 

We had a Popat Krishna (Sweet Krishna smilingly holding a parrot to his heart) at the centre of the Pooja shelf in our small study room that was shared by the 3 of us. 

Some of the Pooja items like the Deeparadhana item for Ararti, the small brass bell used during Ararti and a silver Lakshmi coming to me from Amma.
And brass panchpatra-uddharini, Shaligram and Shivalinga ((2)from Dadi my paternal grandma. I recall her taking these items to the Sangam-Thriveni for her annual Gangasnaan and they too had a purificatory bath.
So they have SPECIAL SACRED VIBRATIONS. 

While lighting the Lamp I also recall Bai saying to always take two wicks, never single. To use Til oil and say the special Shloka while lighting the lamp for 'enlightenment' and everything auspicious, good health and also 'over-coming enemies'. 
How na├пve I was as a little girl! 
Enemies means the negativity within oneself but I used to interpret it as school friends with whom one had had a tiff! 
Such stark Immaturity! 

Time, experience and age has indeed made me a little wiser.
And one could never blow out the lamp. 

If one had to do so it was done gently with a flower that had been offered in prayer after application of milk on the sides of the vilakku.
Perhaps those reading this may wonder as to why so many rituals. 
Yes. Rituals connect us to those loved ones who taught them to us. 
And more importantly, we become more reflective and think deeply about the rituals. Why do we follow rituals? 
Thinking deeply one r├йalis├йs that they do hold weight. 
Rituals give a certain routine to be followed that leads to physican & mental discipline. 

Then once the child gains maturity and control he will evolve and understand the worth of rituaks that can be discarded. 
Rituals are just support systems that are besu in themselves. 
They are like arranging a table when guests are invited for meals. 
We set the table with new plates, shining cutlery, new table cloth and even light candles etc. 
If we can do this for friends why not do it for that ALL - PERVADING POWER ??? 

Of course, it all depends if one has Faith (Vishvas, Bhakti)! 

Lighting a lamp itself is beautiful as it spreads a glow all around and especially lighting up the eyes of our Devis & Devatas in the Pooja. 

Lighting lamps, agarbattis, offering favourite fragrant flowers to the diety, performing neivedyam (Brahmaarpanam) & arati are all part of the rituals of performing Pooja. 
This itself is a form of Meditation.

Lighting the Pooja lamp is something I grew up with. I saw my grandmothers, my mother and Aunt and all family members participating together.

Every Hindu home, however, affluent or poor always dedicates one small corner of their home to the Cosmic Power. 
And it is a beautiful custom. 
The same venerated deities are passed on from generation to generation and even if Bhakti /Vishvas are not the pivotal factors at least it is sentiment for the tradition that is carried on!
For me it reminds me and directly puts me in touch with all the great souls of our family. And their sacred memory gives me strength and courage to tide over little hiccups as well as the stormy events of life!

Just a short memoir of my sacred, childhood memories that I wished to pass on to you children. 
It may be of interest to you. 

Friday, 9 July 2021

Nature's way of self-protection!

Had gone upstairs to get my books to go into the garden when my eyes caught a fluorescent, big and beautiful beetle crawling on the dark floor.
As I had left my phone outside on the garden bench, I gently lifted the beetle onto a piece of paper to take it outside to photograph it.
Placing the beetle on the stone table, I found it to be still and lifeless. Poor little insect, I thought! 
Saddened by the sight of the beetle lying still, I started to sketch the garden view when suddenly a buzzing sound distracted me and I caught sight of the beetle coming alive to fly away leaving me to my solitude outside under the shade of the arbour.
How cleverly it had camouflaged itself appearing to be lifeless! 
How wonderful nature is!
My dear father (a botanist by training and a born nature lover ) had told me when I was just a little girl, very many long years ago that every creature from the minutest to the most gargantuan, protects itself in myriads of astonishingly clever ways! Survival at any cost! 
My father had introduced me to the famous Jean-Henri Casimir Fabre  a French naturalist, entomologist and author known for the lively style of his popular books on the lives of insects. We had a book in our home titled :The Insect Man. 
Fabre used to go out into Nature to learn about insects by lying on the forest floor for hours on end. Such was his passion and interest for studying Nature and insects that he was called the insect man! 
The more we learn we realise how much there is to know! 
Today the chance sighting of the 'little big beetle' stirred my mind and took me back in time ! 
It had the power to make me travel into the past, stir memories of my dear father and connected me to Jean-Henri Casimir Fabre who was born nearly 2 centuries ago 21st December 1823.
As my son would say as a little boy :I want to invent a Time travelling machine! 
And yes, we have our own individual, magical, travelling machine - our Mind that more than often takes us on rides! 
Thank you little beetle for making me fly into the past with your beautiful flight out into Nature from the bondage of being trapped inside the house!