A letter of a teen’s mother
It was almost 20 years ago when I read this letter written by a teenage girl’s mother to editor of one of the women’s magazines. I neither remember her name nor the exact contents of the letter. But I do remember and even now am able to recollect vividly the gist of the contents. What is poignant about that letter is its contemporary valid contents. In my opinion, it should be read by each and every girl and would be mothers. I try my level best to capture the gist of the contents below and leave to the discerning readers to feel the urge of that mother who wrote the letter.
“My memory goes back almost 20 years when I was a young rebellious brat of teens. My parents gave everything for my wellbeing. Mother had been there in thick and thin and selflessly devoted her time and life to my welfare. During exams she was always available anticipating my slightest needs. She was keeping herself awake late into the night just to keep company with me. This despite the fact that she had to get up early to attend to the daily chores, where as I used to get up royally very late after 8’o clock. She was there with ever smiling face and saw that all my needs were met for going to school. I used to vile away my reading hours during evenings by watching all sitcoms on TV and take to study only beyond 9 PM. Just once and only once she observed that I could start my studies a little early so that we could go to bed early and she would also get enough sleep. But then I brushed aside her suggestion and even had temerity to declare that I never wanted to her to keep herself awake for my sake and I didn’t like such gestures. My mother smiled at me wistfully and did not utter a single word. But she was there all the time. On another occasion when I fell sick she insisted on carrying me to the doctor and I doubt very much if she had any sleep at all. The moment I was all right I just rushed out of the house to meet my friends without even bothering let her know. She mildly chided me for not taking care of myself, as I was still recouping. I looked at her disdainfully but she smiled at me silently and wistfully.
Now after these many years I am seeing the same abrasive and self–centered teenaged girl in my daughter. Minni has been alter ego of my younger avatar. The only difference is I became a mother and am in the same situation as my mother 20 years ago. I understood the wistful silent smile she used to give me. There were equivalent to myriad words of passionate reconciliation, forbearance and tolerance to the teenage brats.”
I forgot how that mother ended the letter. But I hope the text above bared the souls of a mother and a daughter. First time when I read it I felt like crying. I also recollected all those times in the past when I behaved just like that daughter. All of us deserve the same treatment we meted to our parents when we in our teens.
I do not know if at all any daughter read this letter and changed her attitude towards her dear mother!
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Cat of Sabarigiri: A man in cat’s body!
Dog’s opinion about the human beings:
“These people always take care of me. They give me food and shelter and even cajole me and play with me. They take care of my health also. They must be God Almighty!”
Cat’s opinion about the human beings:
“These people always look after me. They offer me food and shelter. They cajole me and play with me. I can even take a comfortable nap on their lap. They are concerned about my health also. I must be God Almighty! ”
That in short sums up the attitudes of dogs and cats towards us human beings. One afternoon, a kitten jumped over the balcony of our apartment in Anushaktinagar. It was shivering out of fear. The fur was erect and the eyes were restless and the kitten was continuously meowing. We peered out of balcony and saw two dogs looking at our balcony. So the kitten escaped from these animals and entered into safe haven of 24-Sabarigiri building in Anushaktinagar. We shooed the dogs away and Shobha gave some milk to the kitten. We wondered as to how the kitten could climb up to the second floor while escaping from the dogs.
Sivacharan and Lakshmi also took liking towards the kitten. So the kitten became the fifth member of our family. For two days it was afraid to go out for long periods. After attending to nature calls it used to return to safety of its abode. Lakshmi and her mother began pampering the new member and it responded instantly. Slowly steadily but surely it assessed the “mahol” (situation) in the house and recognized the power centres and the persons who matter.
Sivacharan and I initially did not come to know of its behaviour towards us. As it was, the lad never had any time for the cat and I was also busy with so many other things and did not particularly pay any attention to it.
I do not know if it is same with all households. At least in our case when Shobha went to visit her parents, with in two days starting from sweeper, to milkman, garbage man and the Dhobhiwala, all of them would start asking “Auntieji gaon gayi kya?” Their attitude towards us used to change. Lakshmi also once observed “Amma gaon gayi to kya jaisa ki hum lognahi rahate!” It was as if we did not count at all if mother was not around! I suspected that the cat also belonged to their category.
The first sign that the cat was equally indifferent to us became apparent when in the evenings as soon as I returned from office, unlike previous occasions, it started pretending to make a movement without moving. The only flicker I could notice was that deliberate opening of the eyes and making a slight “purrish” sound.
It became clear when on a Sunday Lakshmi and I went out to Chembur for some purchases and returned home. As soon as we entered the house, the cat just looked at me as if I was an intruder and started circling around Lakshmi’s ankles and making an arch of its body with its tail oscillating made that satisfying purr.
That I did not count at all was confirmed when daily in the early mornings I woke up and walked all the way to the first room to work on my PC, it did not even pretend to make slightest movement and moreover, to add insult to injury started looking at me with that spiteful look of contempt as if I disturbed its tranquility. But the same ungrateful creature shots out of slumber the moment Shobha started stirring and dashes all the way to the bed room to be ready to wish good morning to the lady of the house.
That as far as it was concerned, I was nobody was established when I returned from long tour, it did not even bother to look at me. But when Shobha returned from Cuddapah after visiting her parents, you should have seen its tantrums and shenanigans. Absolutely and shamelessly hypocritical, it showered all its affection and attention on Shobha. It did not even allow her to remove her “chappals.” When I complained, Shobha declared that I was jealous and it did not befit for a human being to be envious of animals that too pets! I was certain the cat derisively laughed behind its whiskers!
I suspected that it must have been a man in its previous birth. It imbibed all the traits of human behaviour and carried them to its present incarnation. I just wondered whether because of his good deeds he was born a cat or was it the other way? I never knew.
But one day when I returned home from office, the cat was not seen and knowing the low esteem the cat had towards me, I felt it must be having a comfortable nap somewhere in the house. Shobha also was not seen. Presently she came from her friend’s place. She said that the cat had gone for good. I did not get her and looked at her quizzically. “There was another cat, which happened to come by in the morning, and our cat just walked with the other one and did not even return. Such an ungrateful creature!”
I looked at her and had a hearty laugh.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Caught red handed! The story of an unposted letter
Even during 1980s also when Internet had not yet “arrived” and telephones were still a luxury to have at home, thanks to our dear Department of Posts, Government of India, we were able to communicate with one another. Full credit is to be given to the Postman who unfailingly treks laboriously without any complaint to deliver letters even to remote corners of the country.
In those days we were staying in our own apartment in Konkanbhuvan node of New Bombay, a satellite township being established to ease the congestion in the main city Bombay (now called Mumbai). The civic amenities were being provided in stages in the township. First the streetlights came, then a bank, a postbox and then a delivery branch of post office. As the postal services were yet to be streamlined, we used to carry all our letters for posting in our BARC post office. We used to think that mail would be dispatched relatively quickly.
One morning, Shobha (whose ‘worse – half is me’) handed an inland letter to me for posting. The letter was addressed to her parents. I took it and put it in my bag for taking it to BARC for posting.
I hold a theory that any central government servant in India possesses unique characteristics or over a course of time during his service, acquires these characteristics. I am not sure whether a person has these unique characteristics before joining central government service or he acquires them during the course of time. The unique characteristics are (i) having an impassive and expressionless face, (ii) cultivating that bored and worn out look even at the start of the day, (iii) looking extremely busy and occupied when need arises, (iv) faking that concentrated look while the boss is speaking simultaneously shutting all the other sensory faculties. As long as one does not carry these features outside the office particularly at home it is safe for the individual.
The mistake I did was indeed the opposite. The net result is I forgot to post the letter given by Shobha. In the evening after I returned home she did enquire and for a change I told her the truth and promised that I would definitely post the letter next day. Next day came and gone but the letter continued to remain in the bag. I lied to the Lady of the House that I had an extremely urgent meeting, which lasted throughout the day. Luckily next day Shobha did not ask and so I was saved from lying. The day after I decided I would keep the letter in my shirt packet so I would not forget. I transferred the letter from the bag to the packet. But this time I entirely forgot about the same for two days.
On Friday, in BARC while boarding the office bus, there was checking of the valid bus pass. (All the BARC employees availing the official bus transport are given a bus pass). When I pulled the bus pass out of the packet, the letter also “popped” out.
I decided that I would hold the letter in hand and as soon as I got down at Konanbhuvan, I would drop it into the postbox there before going home. For a change I remembered my task and no sooner we got down, than I rushed towards the postbox. Just as I was about to drop the letter, there was a movement on my back and there was a query, “ What are you posting? Letter?” I turned back to see. There standing in front of me was Shobha with her friend Krishnakumari!
In a hurry I posted the letter and gave a sheepish smile and mumbled. Now you know when the letters do not reach the destination, Postal Department alone is not to be blamed. Our contribution is also not insignificant!
Even during 1980s also when Internet had not yet “arrived” and telephones were still a luxury to have at home, thanks to our dear Department of Posts, Government of India, we were able to communicate with one another. Full credit is to be given to the Postman who unfailingly treks laboriously without any complaint to deliver letters even to remote corners of the country.
In those days we were staying in our own apartment in Konkanbhuvan node of New Bombay, a satellite township being established to ease the congestion in the main city Bombay (now called Mumbai). The civic amenities were being provided in stages in the township. First the streetlights came, then a bank, a postbox and then a delivery branch of post office. As the postal services were yet to be streamlined, we used to carry all our letters for posting in our BARC post office. We used to think that mail would be dispatched relatively quickly.
One morning, Shobha (whose ‘worse – half is me’) handed an inland letter to me for posting. The letter was addressed to her parents. I took it and put it in my bag for taking it to BARC for posting.
I hold a theory that any central government servant in India possesses unique characteristics or over a course of time during his service, acquires these characteristics. I am not sure whether a person has these unique characteristics before joining central government service or he acquires them during the course of time. The unique characteristics are (i) having an impassive and expressionless face, (ii) cultivating that bored and worn out look even at the start of the day, (iii) looking extremely busy and occupied when need arises, (iv) faking that concentrated look while the boss is speaking simultaneously shutting all the other sensory faculties. As long as one does not carry these features outside the office particularly at home it is safe for the individual.
The mistake I did was indeed the opposite. The net result is I forgot to post the letter given by Shobha. In the evening after I returned home she did enquire and for a change I told her the truth and promised that I would definitely post the letter next day. Next day came and gone but the letter continued to remain in the bag. I lied to the Lady of the House that I had an extremely urgent meeting, which lasted throughout the day. Luckily next day Shobha did not ask and so I was saved from lying. The day after I decided I would keep the letter in my shirt packet so I would not forget. I transferred the letter from the bag to the packet. But this time I entirely forgot about the same for two days.
On Friday, in BARC while boarding the office bus, there was checking of the valid bus pass. (All the BARC employees availing the official bus transport are given a bus pass). When I pulled the bus pass out of the packet, the letter also “popped” out.
I decided that I would hold the letter in hand and as soon as I got down at Konanbhuvan, I would drop it into the postbox there before going home. For a change I remembered my task and no sooner we got down, than I rushed towards the postbox. Just as I was about to drop the letter, there was a movement on my back and there was a query, “ What are you posting? Letter?” I turned back to see. There standing in front of me was Shobha with her friend Krishnakumari!
In a hurry I posted the letter and gave a sheepish smile and mumbled. Now you know when the letters do not reach the destination, Postal Department alone is not to be blamed. Our contribution is also not insignificant!
Monday, October 13, 2008
When Lady Luck smiled at all of us
It was almost 46 years ago (around 1961 or 1962) when this incident happened. We were residing in Sriramulu Pet in Proddatur. One evening during summer vacation, we were all playing on the road. I think it was country hockey. (Cricket was yet to catch up in the interior countryside!). The hockey sticks were made out of branches of trees and the hockey ball was a bundle of rags folded tightly around a smoothened stone piece in the form of a sphere and sewed with twine. We were about 10 and the game was being played with all the enthusiasm and earnestness. It was like playing in Olympic Games. No quarter was asked and given.
Shortly after halftime, when the game was evenly poised, the umpire (a petite lad of 10 or 12 years old) shouted “offside”. The person in question was a fatso who did not take the umpire’s command in the right spirit. You see he was about to score goal and bag the Olympic gold medal! He whirled around with the stick raised high and in a threatening pose charged towards the umpire. Next 5 minutes was sheer bedlam. The game was abandoned and the Olympic gold medal vanished into thin air. Charges were hurled at the umpire and he was labeled as ‘traitor’ who was sold out for a pittance of one ‘dammidi’! (In those days, India, a few years earlier switched over to metric system but old monetary system was still being used. Dammidi used to be the smallest monetary unit and 192 of them equaled one rupee. Obverse and reverse sides of dammidi are shown alongside). The umpire vehemently protested that he was not sold out for a dammidi! The fatso was indeed offside and a cheat! The poor lad was about to be beaten when he was dragged out of the motley crowd.
He walked past the fatso and sitting on the ground huddled between the bent knees adjacent to a heap of stones began to throw the stone pieces helter-skelter. Presently he shouted excitedly and showed two annas coin (another old monetary unit) he found in the heap of stones. The fight was forgotten; the acrimonious animosity instantly giving way to excitement. In a sudden movement all 10 of us were over the heap of stones! The ‘umpire’ was literally thrown out but he held on to his ‘treasure’ of two annas coin with a smug smile on his face.
On that day, God Almighty had been extremely generous and benevolent! Each one of the boys except me could find some ‘treasure’ or other! The ‘treasure’ ranged from kaani to rupee coin! You should have seen the radiant smiles on all the young faces! However hard I tried to find my ‘treasure’ in that heap of stones, I could not succeed. I was angry and jealous. With frustration and dejection, I broke my hockey stick into two pieces, threw the pieces and walked away. All the boys clucked sympathetically.
I walked a few steps and with pouted face began digging at random with no rhyme or reason. Suddenly the twig with which I was digging got entangled with something. With sudden hope and anxiety, I began removing the soil and pebbles with hands. Lo and behold! My fingers felt something and I slowly lifted the thing. It was a chain with an oval shaped pendant. I yelled with excitement and jumped allover. The boys who were about to go home, stopped and gathered around me. I showed them what I found! They were dumbfounded.
I walked past them with raised head to home. The chain was shown to our goldsmith neighbour who declared that it was just a brass chain but the pendant was of reasonably good quality.
Now after these many years in 2008, I don’t know what happened to that chain and the pendant. But whenever I recalled that day I become dumbstruck about all those ‘treasures’ we dug out!
Here is a list of old monetary system of India prevailing up to 1960s
Three dammidis equal one bottu
Two bottus one kaani (Ardhanna)
Four bottus (or two kaanis) equal one anna
Sixteen annas equal one rupee.
The coins available were
Dammidi, Half bottu, Bottu, Kaani, Anna, Two annas (beda), Paavala (Four annas), Half rupee, Rupee
It was almost 46 years ago (around 1961 or 1962) when this incident happened. We were residing in Sriramulu Pet in Proddatur. One evening during summer vacation, we were all playing on the road. I think it was country hockey. (Cricket was yet to catch up in the interior countryside!). The hockey sticks were made out of branches of trees and the hockey ball was a bundle of rags folded tightly around a smoothened stone piece in the form of a sphere and sewed with twine. We were about 10 and the game was being played with all the enthusiasm and earnestness. It was like playing in Olympic Games. No quarter was asked and given.
Shortly after halftime, when the game was evenly poised, the umpire (a petite lad of 10 or 12 years old) shouted “offside”. The person in question was a fatso who did not take the umpire’s command in the right spirit. You see he was about to score goal and bag the Olympic gold medal! He whirled around with the stick raised high and in a threatening pose charged towards the umpire. Next 5 minutes was sheer bedlam. The game was abandoned and the Olympic gold medal vanished into thin air. Charges were hurled at the umpire and he was labeled as ‘traitor’ who was sold out for a pittance of one ‘dammidi’! (In those days, India, a few years earlier switched over to metric system but old monetary system was still being used. Dammidi used to be the smallest monetary unit and 192 of them equaled one rupee. Obverse and reverse sides of dammidi are shown alongside). The umpire vehemently protested that he was not sold out for a dammidi! The fatso was indeed offside and a cheat! The poor lad was about to be beaten when he was dragged out of the motley crowd.
He walked past the fatso and sitting on the ground huddled between the bent knees adjacent to a heap of stones began to throw the stone pieces helter-skelter. Presently he shouted excitedly and showed two annas coin (another old monetary unit) he found in the heap of stones. The fight was forgotten; the acrimonious animosity instantly giving way to excitement. In a sudden movement all 10 of us were over the heap of stones! The ‘umpire’ was literally thrown out but he held on to his ‘treasure’ of two annas coin with a smug smile on his face.
On that day, God Almighty had been extremely generous and benevolent! Each one of the boys except me could find some ‘treasure’ or other! The ‘treasure’ ranged from kaani to rupee coin! You should have seen the radiant smiles on all the young faces! However hard I tried to find my ‘treasure’ in that heap of stones, I could not succeed. I was angry and jealous. With frustration and dejection, I broke my hockey stick into two pieces, threw the pieces and walked away. All the boys clucked sympathetically.
I walked a few steps and with pouted face began digging at random with no rhyme or reason. Suddenly the twig with which I was digging got entangled with something. With sudden hope and anxiety, I began removing the soil and pebbles with hands. Lo and behold! My fingers felt something and I slowly lifted the thing. It was a chain with an oval shaped pendant. I yelled with excitement and jumped allover. The boys who were about to go home, stopped and gathered around me. I showed them what I found! They were dumbfounded.
I walked past them with raised head to home. The chain was shown to our goldsmith neighbour who declared that it was just a brass chain but the pendant was of reasonably good quality.
Now after these many years in 2008, I don’t know what happened to that chain and the pendant. But whenever I recalled that day I become dumbstruck about all those ‘treasures’ we dug out!
Here is a list of old monetary system of India prevailing up to 1960s
Three dammidis equal one bottu
Two bottus one kaani (Ardhanna)
Four bottus (or two kaanis) equal one anna
Sixteen annas equal one rupee.
The coins available were
Dammidi, Half bottu, Bottu, Kaani, Anna, Two annas (beda), Paavala (Four annas), Half rupee, Rupee
Sunday, October 12, 2008
It’s for nothing that it is called donkey
During 1980s, we shifted to our own apartment in Konkanbhuvan node of the then New Bombay, a satellite township being established to ease congestion in Bombay city. The node is on the Mumbai-Pune highway with very busy and non-stop traffic. Initially for a couple of years we had to depend on public transport operated by City and Industrial Development Corporation (CIDCO) of Maharashtra, the nodal Agency with the entire responsibility of bringing development in the New Bombay region. We used to travel to Vashi, the first node of new Bombay to catch our Office transport.
During those days, for any silly reason or even without one, CIDCO transport used to go on flash strike. Many a time, CIDCO buses used to get stuck simply because the driver or conductor was taking forty winks or the controller did not give timely flag out to the driver. As a result, we used to be subjected to hardship. To reach Vashi we were dependent on private vehicles.
One day, as was the usual practice, CIDCO transport went on predictable flash strike. We rushed on to the main highway and started hitchhiking any available motor vehicles. One Tempo driver gave us lift up to Turbe, a place midway between Konkanbhuvan and Vashi. We got down at Turbhe and started walking towards Vashi. There was heavy traffic and we were carefully negotiating to reach our destination safely.
In the opposite lane a car was speeding towards Pune. Suddenly to our horror, we saw a donkey sprang up and started walking leisurely to the opposite side. The car dashed headlong against the poor creature. We closed our eyes fearing the ghastly sight awaiting us. The car came to a screeching halt. We slowly opened our eyes and saw the beast was thrown away by about 10 to 15 feet and was lying completely immobile on the road. We feared worst. After a couple of minutes, the donkey stirred and with a jump, stood on its feet, brayed for sometime and coolly walked away to the other side of the road as if nothing happened.
We looked at the car, which caused the accident. To our surprise, we saw its headlights broken, radiator leaking and the front bumper twisted completely out of shape. What is more, the car could not be started. Imagine the expression on the face of the driver! From a state of shock and bewilderment, it turned into anger and frustration. He hurled the choicest abuses at the quadruped in question and started looking for help.
We walked away from the scene and understood why it’s called donkey.
During 1980s, we shifted to our own apartment in Konkanbhuvan node of the then New Bombay, a satellite township being established to ease congestion in Bombay city. The node is on the Mumbai-Pune highway with very busy and non-stop traffic. Initially for a couple of years we had to depend on public transport operated by City and Industrial Development Corporation (CIDCO) of Maharashtra, the nodal Agency with the entire responsibility of bringing development in the New Bombay region. We used to travel to Vashi, the first node of new Bombay to catch our Office transport.
During those days, for any silly reason or even without one, CIDCO transport used to go on flash strike. Many a time, CIDCO buses used to get stuck simply because the driver or conductor was taking forty winks or the controller did not give timely flag out to the driver. As a result, we used to be subjected to hardship. To reach Vashi we were dependent on private vehicles.
One day, as was the usual practice, CIDCO transport went on predictable flash strike. We rushed on to the main highway and started hitchhiking any available motor vehicles. One Tempo driver gave us lift up to Turbe, a place midway between Konkanbhuvan and Vashi. We got down at Turbhe and started walking towards Vashi. There was heavy traffic and we were carefully negotiating to reach our destination safely.
In the opposite lane a car was speeding towards Pune. Suddenly to our horror, we saw a donkey sprang up and started walking leisurely to the opposite side. The car dashed headlong against the poor creature. We closed our eyes fearing the ghastly sight awaiting us. The car came to a screeching halt. We slowly opened our eyes and saw the beast was thrown away by about 10 to 15 feet and was lying completely immobile on the road. We feared worst. After a couple of minutes, the donkey stirred and with a jump, stood on its feet, brayed for sometime and coolly walked away to the other side of the road as if nothing happened.
We looked at the car, which caused the accident. To our surprise, we saw its headlights broken, radiator leaking and the front bumper twisted completely out of shape. What is more, the car could not be started. Imagine the expression on the face of the driver! From a state of shock and bewilderment, it turned into anger and frustration. He hurled the choicest abuses at the quadruped in question and started looking for help.
We walked away from the scene and understood why it’s called donkey.
And we still refer them as just innocent kids!
This happened almost 25 years ago. We were staying in Konkanbhuvan node of the then New Bombay, a satellite township being established to ease congestion in Bombay city. My friend Sadanandam´s family was our neighbours. Ramani and Raju are Sadanandam´s children. Sivacharan and Jayalakshmi are mine. Raju was just a toddler. Ramani and Sivacharan were about 5 or 6 years and Lakshmi was a year younger. The children were really brats and bundle of energy and the mothers used to have loads of exercise to control them.
Suryanarayana (Surya to us) was another young colleague of mine who married around that time and shifted to our locality. One day we invited the newly married couple for a get together and had a whale of a time. The children and the young bride established an instant rapport and got on very well. Her name was Bala Tripura Sundari. We called her Sundari. Thereafter the new "auntie" and the children used to have lots of fun time together. After sometime it was the turn of the young couple to invite us for an evening dinner at theirs.
Now you see the mothers thought they are `responsible´ mothers who brought up their children intelligently and with lot of commitment. On the day of our visit in the morning, they started `training´ the children about good manners and all the ideal behaviour attributes as to how they should conduct themselves at the new `aunties´ house. "Uncle and auntie should be pleased with your attitude, you see", they went on emphasizing. As a part of that training they also told the kids, "you see after we reach their house, you should say Namaste to uncle and auntie and sit there without becoming naughty. Don’t treat their house as yours and don’t do this and don’t do that. What will auntie think of you if you do this or that" and so on. "Anyway auntie is going to give you lots of goodies and cookies and don’t ever rush to the kitchen and demand. Behave like sweet kids". The children nodded their heads in obedience and mothers heaved a sigh of relief. They thought they had graduated in training the kids very responsibly. We fathers tried to intervene with mild protests but we were made to withdraw hastily with that stern `wifely´ look!
That evening at last we all went to Surya´s house. The couple welcomed us. The children Ramani, Sivacharan and Jayalakshmi were so well behaved, they said Namaste and sat obediently in the hall with arms folded over their chests. It was an unusual sight for all of us and the proud mothers looked at each other and smiled knowingly and cast a condescending glance at us, poor fathers! After the preliminary greetings and chat, Sundari went into the kitchen. The children looked at one another and whispered among themselves. The mothers stared at them and silence descended on them. After a while `auntie´ came from the kitchen with snack plates. She put the plates meant for us on a table, turned and just started extending the plates towards the children.
There was a sudden chorus from the children, "Mememee adugala!, mememee adugala!" ("We never asked, never asked!"). Still with arms folded they looked at their mothers with expectation that they be congratulated for their exemplary behaviour! Sundari was bewildered and confused.
Could you ever visualize different emotional expressions such as acute embarrassment, helplessness and anger being shown simultaneously on one´s face? Well, that was what exactly we could see on our wives´ visages. Imagine the plight of us, the husbands? Surely even our faces could have been a treat to look at!. The flashback of that recent rigorous `training programme´ for our kids in the morning on good manners and the sudden and extempore display of outcome of that training by the `obedient´ children and the mothers´ consternation made us mute spectators with silly smiles on our faces. At last my friend Sadanandam gestured that the children accept the goodies from auntie. There was wild clamor for the snack plates.
Surya and Sundari looked at us with puzzled faces with expectation that we explain the situation. With halting tones Sadanandam and I blurted out the whole sequence of events leading to the current scene and gave an embarrassed laugh. We were also aware of the piercing looks of the wives on our back. The children got up and asked their auntie if they had been good and if so they want more goodies. Sundari took them along with her in the kitchen.
Suryanarayana (Surya to us) was another young colleague of mine who married around that time and shifted to our locality. One day we invited the newly married couple for a get together and had a whale of a time. The children and the young bride established an instant rapport and got on very well. Her name was Bala Tripura Sundari. We called her Sundari. Thereafter the new "auntie" and the children used to have lots of fun time together. After sometime it was the turn of the young couple to invite us for an evening dinner at theirs.
Now you see the mothers thought they are `responsible´ mothers who brought up their children intelligently and with lot of commitment. On the day of our visit in the morning, they started `training´ the children about good manners and all the ideal behaviour attributes as to how they should conduct themselves at the new `aunties´ house. "Uncle and auntie should be pleased with your attitude, you see", they went on emphasizing. As a part of that training they also told the kids, "you see after we reach their house, you should say Namaste to uncle and auntie and sit there without becoming naughty. Don’t treat their house as yours and don’t do this and don’t do that. What will auntie think of you if you do this or that" and so on. "Anyway auntie is going to give you lots of goodies and cookies and don’t ever rush to the kitchen and demand. Behave like sweet kids". The children nodded their heads in obedience and mothers heaved a sigh of relief. They thought they had graduated in training the kids very responsibly. We fathers tried to intervene with mild protests but we were made to withdraw hastily with that stern `wifely´ look!
That evening at last we all went to Surya´s house. The couple welcomed us. The children Ramani, Sivacharan and Jayalakshmi were so well behaved, they said Namaste and sat obediently in the hall with arms folded over their chests. It was an unusual sight for all of us and the proud mothers looked at each other and smiled knowingly and cast a condescending glance at us, poor fathers! After the preliminary greetings and chat, Sundari went into the kitchen. The children looked at one another and whispered among themselves. The mothers stared at them and silence descended on them. After a while `auntie´ came from the kitchen with snack plates. She put the plates meant for us on a table, turned and just started extending the plates towards the children.
There was a sudden chorus from the children, "Mememee adugala!, mememee adugala!" ("We never asked, never asked!"). Still with arms folded they looked at their mothers with expectation that they be congratulated for their exemplary behaviour! Sundari was bewildered and confused.
Could you ever visualize different emotional expressions such as acute embarrassment, helplessness and anger being shown simultaneously on one´s face? Well, that was what exactly we could see on our wives´ visages. Imagine the plight of us, the husbands? Surely even our faces could have been a treat to look at!. The flashback of that recent rigorous `training programme´ for our kids in the morning on good manners and the sudden and extempore display of outcome of that training by the `obedient´ children and the mothers´ consternation made us mute spectators with silly smiles on our faces. At last my friend Sadanandam gestured that the children accept the goodies from auntie. There was wild clamor for the snack plates.
Surya and Sundari looked at us with puzzled faces with expectation that we explain the situation. With halting tones Sadanandam and I blurted out the whole sequence of events leading to the current scene and gave an embarrassed laugh. We were also aware of the piercing looks of the wives on our back. The children got up and asked their auntie if they had been good and if so they want more goodies. Sundari took them along with her in the kitchen.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Astrology – the most intriguing and challenging ‘science’
Astrology – the most intriguing and challenging ‘science’
There is an interesting allegory alluded to astrology, which I cannot vouch for, about Indrajit’s birth. Indrajit is one of the most valiant warrior sons of Ravana, an important character in Indian epic Ramayana. Ravana had asked all the seers for the most auspicious placement of the planets in the celestial zodiac at the time 0f birth of Indrajit. After having been told, Ravana ordered all the planets to be stationed at the exact positions in the celestial zodiac as suggested by the seers. Ravana thus wanted to play God. God Almighty destined otherwise. So at the exact moment, Sani just stretched his leg imperceptibly a wee bit and changed the planets’ configuration to that extent. Ravana with his mighty mace hit at Sani’s leg and Sani became a limping planet from that time. But the damage has been done.
There are any number of such parables in almost any culture only to re-emphasise the unalterable nature of destiny and God’s prevailing Will. What the subject of astrology does is to provide only certain direction and probability but not subscribe to any certainty in its analysis.
There is yet another ‘story’ which is often quoted to emphasise the futility of banking on astrology for fixing any auspicious moment. Let me verbatim reproduce that ‘story’, which was posted as a comment.
“I am reminded of a "story" or was it true?
The great mathematician and an astrologer, Bhaskaracharya had a daughter, Leelavathi. Once she reached the marriageable age he looked for a suitable boy and fixed the date for wedding based on the horoscopes of the boy and Leelavathi. On that day the wedding was celebrated but very soon the new bridegroom died of snakebite.
The Great Bhaskaracharya was stunned and tried to look for the DOSHA either in the horoscopes or the wedding date. He could not get any clue. He recalculated and recalculated and found that the wedding date was the most auspicious one. However he could not change the destiny of his only daughter.
One day he was observing the hourglass set up in the house for the Calculation of time. There he found the nose stud of baby Leelavathi, which she accidentally lost in her childhood while looking into the hourglass. Then he realised the DESTINY decided by HIM cannot be changed inspite of having excellent knowledge of Astrology.”
Let me recount the above ‘story’ in a slightly different fashion. Bhaskaracharya was indeed a venerable sage and great mathematician and astrologer. He surely knew what destiny was.
‘At the time of Leelavathi’s birth, the venerable sage cast her birth chart and to his utter dismay the sage could clearly presage the untimely widowhood for his daughter. Now what could the sage do but to accept the destiny? His parental instincts or urge made the sage to look for the most auspicious time for Leelavathi’s marriage so that the Acharya might have felt that the auspicious time would avert the widowhood for his lovely child. The Acharya also, for a moment was blinded by the parental love and played God.’
Now append the original ‘story’ making rounds, to the above paragraph. The continuity and the logic of the story become more meaningful. It is indeed illogical to believe that the Acharya looked only for the most auspicious time for the daughter’s marriage and might not have cast the birth chart.
The "auspicious time" identified by the Acharya also could be correct. In fact, the 'story' reiterates this apect forcefully when it cites the 'finding of young Leelavathi's nose stud in the hourglass'. Whatever time the venerable Acharya thought was correct and arrived at the auspicious time was indeed correct for that assumed time. We should clearly note here that the Acharya did not fail in his calculations based on astrology.
When we try to understand the science of astrology, I strongly feel we are all like those blind men touching the various parts of an elephant and trying to give each individual’s version of the elephant. We may come out trumps with respect to a moment or aspect of the subject. But to master the science, we have to become “MASTER”.
There are two interesting passages in the book ‘The Alchemist’ by Paulo Coelho. One camel driver used to consult seers about his future. One of the seers says: “when people consult me, it’s not that I’m reading the future; I am guessing at the future. The future belongs to God, and it is only He who reveals it, under extraordinary circumstances. How do I guess at the future? Based on the omens of the present. The secret is here in the present. If you pay attention to the present, you can improve upon it. And, if you improve on the present, what comes later will also be better. Forget about the future, and live each day according to the teachings, confident that God loves His children. Each day, in itself, brings with it an eternity.”
The camel driver had asked what the circumstances were under which God would allow him to see the future.
“Only when He, Himself, reveals it. And God only rarely reveals the future. When He does so, it is only one reason: it’s a future that was written so as to be altered.”
And, my dear friends, that is Astrology.
There is an interesting allegory alluded to astrology, which I cannot vouch for, about Indrajit’s birth. Indrajit is one of the most valiant warrior sons of Ravana, an important character in Indian epic Ramayana. Ravana had asked all the seers for the most auspicious placement of the planets in the celestial zodiac at the time 0f birth of Indrajit. After having been told, Ravana ordered all the planets to be stationed at the exact positions in the celestial zodiac as suggested by the seers. Ravana thus wanted to play God. God Almighty destined otherwise. So at the exact moment, Sani just stretched his leg imperceptibly a wee bit and changed the planets’ configuration to that extent. Ravana with his mighty mace hit at Sani’s leg and Sani became a limping planet from that time. But the damage has been done.
There are any number of such parables in almost any culture only to re-emphasise the unalterable nature of destiny and God’s prevailing Will. What the subject of astrology does is to provide only certain direction and probability but not subscribe to any certainty in its analysis.
There is yet another ‘story’ which is often quoted to emphasise the futility of banking on astrology for fixing any auspicious moment. Let me verbatim reproduce that ‘story’, which was posted as a comment.
“I am reminded of a "story" or was it true?
The great mathematician and an astrologer, Bhaskaracharya had a daughter, Leelavathi. Once she reached the marriageable age he looked for a suitable boy and fixed the date for wedding based on the horoscopes of the boy and Leelavathi. On that day the wedding was celebrated but very soon the new bridegroom died of snakebite.
The Great Bhaskaracharya was stunned and tried to look for the DOSHA either in the horoscopes or the wedding date. He could not get any clue. He recalculated and recalculated and found that the wedding date was the most auspicious one. However he could not change the destiny of his only daughter.
One day he was observing the hourglass set up in the house for the Calculation of time. There he found the nose stud of baby Leelavathi, which she accidentally lost in her childhood while looking into the hourglass. Then he realised the DESTINY decided by HIM cannot be changed inspite of having excellent knowledge of Astrology.”
Let me recount the above ‘story’ in a slightly different fashion. Bhaskaracharya was indeed a venerable sage and great mathematician and astrologer. He surely knew what destiny was.
‘At the time of Leelavathi’s birth, the venerable sage cast her birth chart and to his utter dismay the sage could clearly presage the untimely widowhood for his daughter. Now what could the sage do but to accept the destiny? His parental instincts or urge made the sage to look for the most auspicious time for Leelavathi’s marriage so that the Acharya might have felt that the auspicious time would avert the widowhood for his lovely child. The Acharya also, for a moment was blinded by the parental love and played God.’
Now append the original ‘story’ making rounds, to the above paragraph. The continuity and the logic of the story become more meaningful. It is indeed illogical to believe that the Acharya looked only for the most auspicious time for the daughter’s marriage and might not have cast the birth chart.
The "auspicious time" identified by the Acharya also could be correct. In fact, the 'story' reiterates this apect forcefully when it cites the 'finding of young Leelavathi's nose stud in the hourglass'. Whatever time the venerable Acharya thought was correct and arrived at the auspicious time was indeed correct for that assumed time. We should clearly note here that the Acharya did not fail in his calculations based on astrology.
When we try to understand the science of astrology, I strongly feel we are all like those blind men touching the various parts of an elephant and trying to give each individual’s version of the elephant. We may come out trumps with respect to a moment or aspect of the subject. But to master the science, we have to become “MASTER”.
There are two interesting passages in the book ‘The Alchemist’ by Paulo Coelho. One camel driver used to consult seers about his future. One of the seers says: “when people consult me, it’s not that I’m reading the future; I am guessing at the future. The future belongs to God, and it is only He who reveals it, under extraordinary circumstances. How do I guess at the future? Based on the omens of the present. The secret is here in the present. If you pay attention to the present, you can improve upon it. And, if you improve on the present, what comes later will also be better. Forget about the future, and live each day according to the teachings, confident that God loves His children. Each day, in itself, brings with it an eternity.”
The camel driver had asked what the circumstances were under which God would allow him to see the future.
“Only when He, Himself, reveals it. And God only rarely reveals the future. When He does so, it is only one reason: it’s a future that was written so as to be altered.”
And, my dear friends, that is Astrology.
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