Tuesday, 3 September 2019





TAIL (END) OF TWO SETS OF ‘PAADARAKSHAALU”                                                    
aka “ ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL”


I am sure you would have heard about the ‘Tale of two cities’ – probably, never got the chance to read it. Here is a golden opportunity for all of you to read an abridged version of a similar tale.
I know you will not be in the proper frame of mind to read the blog – mini or maxi, in one go, especially after a loooong week end. However, as a matter of abundant caution to ensure that the blog reaches as many souls as possible, here is the festival discount. As a special case, you are permitted to go thro’ the narrative in 3 - 4 equal installments.

Yesterday happened to be our 42nd happy wedding anniversary (remember kids saying, innakki enakku happy birthday aakkum), and 43rd wedding day full of sweet memories. Unlike previous years, it was a hectic day, having coincided with Ganesh Chathurthi. As you may know, it is celebrated with fair degree of pomp and glory in this part of India. As is mandatory to visit a temple on this memorable day to thank Him for blessing us with many more happy returns of the day (notwithstanding similar wishes by a host of friends as well as relatives, earlier), we decided to pay our obeisance to the deity at nearby Ishtasiddhi Vinayak temple in Besant Nagar, and seek His blessings. It also, suited perfectly being His day as well.

We could leave only by 8.00 PM, thanks to the various mundane chores, visits, phone calls, and a plethora of activities. (Now, I can visualize the quizzical look in your eyes wondering how this old man is able to type so fast on the mobile in grammatically correct English with no spelling mistakes and most important, successfully overcoming the spell check and auto correct demon.! For the youngsters of the present generation, it is a different ball game altogether to type messages on their smart phones, at an amazing speed, using both hands, like playing a piano.

I shall share the secret a little later. Now continue.

There was huge crowd at the temple, with people of all ages, styles, religions, outfits, and ethnicity, praying to the lord to obviate off all their ‘vighnaas’. Incidentally, the Shabdhakosh gives the meaning of the word ‘obviate’ as
                                                               
                                                    
In simple English, however, the word means ‘to remove a difficulty, problem, or the need for something’, according to google guru.

Where did we leave?

Yeah. “There was a huge crowd at the temple, …. blah, blah, blah …”
After wading through the devotees, and getting a brief darshan of Ganesha, and the deities installed all around, and most important, collecting the donnaiful of yummy kesari soaked in ghee, we were just about to leave, when the incredible happened….. The sky opened up in full bloom and fury. And how? It was as if a huge cloud had burst. Torrential would be a great understatement. To borrow from our dear Home Minister Amit Shah ji, so also from PM Modi ji, it was “ PRACHANT ” all the way - literally - what with water seeping with full force to the entire stretch of the hall attached to the temple, stream of water right outside the temple, flooding the roads, and in a state of topsy-turvy, bringing the holiday traffic to a grinding halt.
 
And, after about 30 minutes, intensity of the rains came down, and we thought it would make sense to escape from the next onslaught, though it was still drizzling. But then, there was some shock in store for us. With almost knee-deep water at the temple entrance, all foot wears left there got washed away….. !! Some were floating, and my dear wife was lucky to grab one of her shoes. The other piece could not be located despite desperate search. They were not ‘made for each other’, I thought. And no trace of my foot wears which were exclusively reserved for temple visits – bought at a discounted price of about 200 odd bucks from the street corner shop, some 2 or 3 years back. Many hard core devotees were seen frantically trying their luck and that brought some consolation to me, really (like your feeling happy to find that EB power has failed not only in your house, but in your neighbour’s house as well).

Today morning, on our usual walk at the beach front, we took a detour and stopped at the Pillayar temple, hoping for some miracle to happen, now that the water has receded. But not much luck. And suddenly, my wife noticed her Jodi shoe inside the locked shoe enclosure of the contractor. And we returned after finishing the usual quota of our morning walk. After collecting the Jodi shoe, I was glancing through the grand collection, neatly stacked in the racks. There were several pairs, many of them, costly ones, and in good shape, except some minimal coat of sludge.

“Paambin kaal pambaRiyum”, they say. I told myself, and strongly believed that my name (Anantha – the divine snake with 1000 tongues) can’t go wrong ....
                                                                           
“Oru kaal, may be oru kaal, there is a chance that my ‘temple special’ which adored my kaal till recently, is lurching somewhere in the heap. For a fraction of second, I was tempted to pick the best pair available in the lot. Kind of ‘sabalam’ ….. But, luckily for me, I remembered just in time my childhood days, when I heard from my dad for the first time the story of the wood cutter, whose axe accidentally fell into the well. Poor man, was going to lose his livelihood. You surely know rest of the story when God appeared before him from inside the well, and first showed him the golden axe, and seeing the woodcutter shaking his head in the negative, showed the silver axe, and finally, the iron axe, which our hero promptly recognized. And the God gave him all three axes. And, my gut feel didn’t go wrong. I located my priceless possession neatly stacked in a corner on the top most rack. Phewww… At that precise moment, I could visualise how Mackenna would have felt when he discovered the treasure in the midst of the canyon….

To cut a long story short, it was a happy Tuesday, and I decided to lavishly tip the care taker 10 bucks. That’s why I told in the beginning, “All’s well that ends well”

After the tale of two paadharakshaalus, here are two tips for my friends.

1. If you do not want to lose your new chappals while entering a temple, never ever keep them at one place, but put them separately in different locations – and remember the two locations where you kept them, when you return after the prayers.

2.  And, now for the secret about my typing the links, long paras etc., on my whatsapp pages, like an expert. Simble. Just download the whatsapp app on your lap top or system, type what you want in word, copy the matter, and paste. 
























ADVANCE WISHES FOR A VERY HAPPY ONAM TO ALL MY DEAR FRIENDS .........


a n a n d . . . . .
for ever..........
Fun & Info @ Keralites.net
Friendship isn't about who you have known the longest.

It's about who come and never leave your side.



Saturday, 23 March 2019

BHAKTHI



While at Chennai, I make it a point to watch Suki Sivam's discourse at 7.00 AM on Saturdays and Sundays in SUN TV. Like wise, Morari Bapu in various TV Cannels, when I was on deputation to the sites in North, and to Udit Chaitanya in Asianet, whenever I get time. There may be many more such gifted speakers talking on virtues, and propagating positive thoughts and guiding people to lead a meaningful and purposeful life, through good words and deeds.

During one such discourses recently, Udit Chaitanya was mentioning about Bhakthi. Unlike South, people in North are staunch devotees of Ram, as much as they are devoted to Lord Ganesh. Of course Ram is worshipped in South also. In fact, for people like Kamba, Valmiki, Tulsidas, and many such great writers and legends of their times, Rama was everything. All of their compositions are on Rama. Bhakthi is the main Bhava in all kritis. 
While elaborating on the Bhakthi, Udit Chaitanya was giving a classic example of what Bhakthi is. 

Soon after returning to Ayodhya, Pattabhishekam was arranged for Rama. It was a gala affair. Everybody who was somebody vied with each other to take selfies with Rama........ Our friend, Anjaneya was however, standing in a corner, chanting Ram.. Ram.. Ram... No one paid any heed to him, but Rama was smiling unto himself at the pseudo 'Bhakthi' of people around him, including his brothers, and other family members, friends, and associates. Obviously, the coterie around Rama were too furious and jealous at the proximity Hanuman enjoyed with Rama. They had an 'in camera' meeting like our political parties are having these days, to decide on who will take charge of which portfolio. In the end, all portfolios were taken away by one person or other. They now looked at Hanuman and told him.

"There is no portfolio or department left, and we can not accommodate you any where. So, it is better that you go back to the woods, where you actually belong to ..." This was a clever move, they all thought. Hanuman politely asked whether he can snap his fingers when Rama yawns. All of them considered the silly idea for a while.

"No issues", they said, without realising the ramifications. Now, one never knows when Rama will yawn, and therefore Hanuman's presence near to the Lord is must all the 24 hours. That is called 'Bhakthi'

Click the link below to know why people snap fingers when yawning.

https://www.quora.com/Why-do-people-snap-their-fingers-in-front-of-their-mouth-while-yawning

Udit Chaitnaya was narrating the incident during his discourse with his own typical sense of humour and amazing rendition style. I was just trying to recollect the bits and pieces of what I heard years back.  

AND, AS FOR THE WEB PAGE DESCRIBING THE ORIGINAL STORY, CLICK THE LINK BELOW:

http://www.bhagavatam-katha.com/ramayana-story-hanumans-snapping-of-fingers-for-yawning-rama/


Enjoy your week end, chums ......................

 Fun & Info @ Keralites.net
a n a n d . . . . .
for ever..........
Fun & Info @ Keralites.net
Friendship isn't about who you have known the longest.

It's about who come and never leave your side.

Wednesday, 20 March 2019

The Week That Was


THE WEEK THAT WAS…..










I don’t know if you have ever watched an episode of “the week that wasn’t” aired in CNN NEWS 18 Channel, compeered by Cyrus Broacha, and ably supported by Kunal Vijaykar. 
The latter in fact, is more of a food writer than TV actor, one of his famous books being
In case you are nterested, please watch the latest episode on YouTube. (Click the link below)

The UK Channel Sky 1 also airs a program of the same title.

Here, I am making an earnest and sincere attempt to pen about the happenings during the week that WAS
and NOT the week that WASN’T….
Sometime in July last year, I had published my blog on “Senior Citizens’ Day”. If interested, you may go to the link below:


AND NOW FOR ‘THE WEEK THAT WAS’ …….

Starting last Monday, 11th March, ‘Kavasam’ TV had organized Bhakthi Utsav at Narada Gana Sabha, Chennai for 5 days from 5.00 PM to 9.00 PM. We tried for the passes, but were told that they were sold out and maybe we can try at the hall on the day of the program. Thankfully, ‘Kavasam’ TV was streaming the program live on YouTube.     Suited me best, and I cast it to my TV, and watched the entire proceedings live on my TV in the cozy, comfortable ambience of my home, with occasional servings of namkeen, nutties and what not !!

The paper ad below will give you the details of who all contributed for the excellent extravaganza for all the 5 days, with their own eloquent and captive renditions. To cut a long story short, I was glued on to the idiot box for almost 4 hours on all those 5 days. The channel has announced to start their telecasting from April this year. They would be re-telecasting these programs for sure.



On Saturday, it was an altogether different experience at our Sabha. The occasion was to remember and pay respects to that cruel villain of yester year movies, Sri. M N Nambiar. It is public knowledge that once out of the shooting sets, he is a gem of a person, and such a humble and philanthropic personality. The speakers who paid rich tributes to the legend included 

‘Sowcar’Janaki, ‘Kumari’ Sachu, Directors, P Vasu, SP Muthuraman etc.










He was a total vegetarian, never had any vices usually associated with most of the film fraternity. An out and out family oriented person, so much so, he set an example as to how a husband should be caring and loving to his wife. All the speakers and the large audience were choked with emotion when some of the speakers spoke about their experiences with the veteran actor. The highlight of the evening’s program, however, was the drame “Dronacharya” staged by the son of that famous theatre personality R S Manohar, who had specialized in glorifying the negative characters of our epics. He himself had the notorious garb of another terrible villain of Tamil screen. It was thus only apt that Manohar’s legacy was followed by the lavish tributes paid by Tamil filmdom.

The highlight, however, was the experience at my favorite spot, namely the Elliot’s Beach.

Sunday mornings at Elliot’s Beach have become generally miserable, of late. There is one procession or other in the name of ‘creating awareness’ or there are marathons of all varieties – the maxi, mini, symbolic etc, etc, again, with all kinds of messages one can imagine from importance of ‘Vegan’ food to bringing back Modi. 

The most pathetic part of all the above in addition to creating untold miseries to the peace-loving morning walkers like me like near-rupturing the ear drums with cacophony of very high decibels, hundreds of plastic water bottles, carry bags, and paper are littered all around. Once I requested a youngster sweating and relaxing after completing a mini marathon to highlight the dangers of plastic in our daily lives, to please put away the plastic water bottle under his feet in the nearby waste bin. Prompt, came the reply that it wasn’t him, but someone else who has put it here. Quietly, I took it and put it in the nearby waste bin.
Last Sunday morning, I went with my dear wife for our morning walk at the beach front, There weren't many cars and bikes. I felt a little sanguine that today was going to be different. My complacency, however, was short-lived. Because, a little distance away, there was this group with white pants and white shirts. One of the banners read "World Sleep Day". I googled for the Tamil translation of the word, and it said, 
உலக நித்திரை தினம் for ‘World sleep day’.

Vahh, I thought this is really interesting. I asked one of the members
what was the name of their president. He said 'Kumbh Karna' - No wonder. 
Later, saw them going on'walkathon' through the 1+1 km stretch of the
beach front. Fair enough.
Oldies like me, after all, can't engage ourselves in any form of marathon.
But walkathon is fine.
A little away, there was another group in yellow
caps, with some hundred yellow hydrogen
balloons. On enquiry, I was told that they belong
to the ‘Down Syndrome Federation of India’. 
Apparently the idea was supposed to break the
myth and mis-conceptions (concepts?)on
the syndrome, show their support and interact
with the affected kids and adults. World Sleep
day, and Down Syndrome Day – two ‘days’ on
a single day. Not bad. 
These days, every other day, you have  some
day or other at Elliot’s Beach. I am not talking
about that, ‘Take care, and have a good day.
I am talking about the various‘days’ celebrated
throughout the year, at times even two ‘days’
on a single day as I was mentioning …..
In our childhood days,we knewonly 3 days, i.e. New Year day,
Republic Day, and Independence Day.
‘May Day’ and all comes to our lives much later. We liked those three
days, because school declares holiday on those days.
And of course, we knew ‘Birthday’ though there wasn’t much to
go ‘ga gaa’ about it, unlike in the lives of kids of present generation,
I mean, getting new dresses,  loadsof gifts from friends and well wishers,
not to mention the plethora of birth day wishes from various
whatsApp group members in all forms & styles.


I was doing a bit of due diligence, and found the following:
There are quite a few ‘days’ in this month. Starting with women’s day on the 8th, we had World Kidney Day on the 14th, World Sleep day as well as Down Syndrome Day on the 17th, World Story Telling Day on 20th, World Forest Day on 21st, World Water day on 22nd, World Weather Day on 23rd, etc., etc. The list goes on and on and on.
I do not know whether “Men’s Day” is celebrated in any part of the world. We ‘Chennaites’ are different – as always. We celebrate “Men’s Day” every year, not for one day, but for close to 90 days…! Starting from April first. Only thing is, people here proudly call the days as “ DOGS’ DAYS ”
As for the proverb “Every dog has its day”, you can have more insight on my blog which was published some 6 years back.


And, I think, that’s all for the week that was. See you all later.

Enjoy......................

 Fun & Info @ Keralites.net


a n a n d . . . . .
for ever..........
Fun & Info @ Keralites.net
Friendship isn't about who you have known the longest.
It's about who come and never leave your side.


Tuesday, 8 January 2019




KALPATHY –
DOWN MEMORY LANE (2) - STORY

It is exactly after 30 years, I am touching the soil of Kalpathy (A small village in Kerala) - Today is 14th of November, 2006.

The time is 4.00 AM. In a few hours from now, the climatic three-day extravaganza of the nine day festivities, - what lakhs of Keralites, irrespective of caste or creed - in and around Palakkad and nearby towns and villages in particular - eagerly look forward, will unfold. “Kaasiyil Paathi Kalpathy…,” (Kalpathy is 50% of Varanasi) they say. In a sense, even I am here for a wholesome dip to wash off my sins, (paapa), and for making amends (parihaara!)

The Kalpathy River, however, flows in its usual majestic splendour. It was on a similar night three decades back, I bade good bye to this soil. In fact, two of us – Radhika and myself. Poor girl, she never got the chance to feel and smell the proverbial “Ther Kaattu” (Chariot Breeze) again! She left last year, leaving me to silently endure the sufferings. The end was sudden and unexpected………... … How I wish she was with me till my last breath! Such a solace she was, and I could bury all my pangs of sorrow on her caring shoulders!

Appa and Amma must have been shattered. I was a coward. I never dared to face them, and handle things properly. And, at no point of time did Radhika ever question whatever I did. Now, after thirty years, I wish better sense prevailed. But then, it is too late……Radhika would always say, “What you sow, so you reap...” God! And how we reaped!

UDAY. That was our son. When he was born, our joy knew no bounds. Bharani was his birth star. ‘He is going to rule the world’, they said, “Bharani, dharani aalvaan, nee vena paathukko”.. (you just wait and see, “Bharani” will rule the world) It was Radhika’s idea to name him so. “He will bring us lots of luck, see”, she said. And, luck, he got us aplenty, indeed. All the fortunes we built in the Mahanagar that is Bombay, was after Uday arrived. Both of us were civil engineers from NSS, Palakkad. While I took to construction, she confined herself to design.

Our career graph started growing upward, and very rapidly, at that. Those were the years when there was a severe dearth for civil engineers. Every one aspired to be only mechanical engineer, or chemical engineer, no takers for civil! There was no Electronics, or other branches, as we have now. There were only three basic streams, civil, electrical & mechanical. Trivandrum & Trichur offered chemical also. But very limited seats. The net result was that by the time we came out of college in 1975, the demand for civil engineering graduates far exceeded the supply.

When Uday was three, we decided to have another child. We didn’t want our son to suffer from single child syndrome. I was the only child for my parents. And I knew what it is being a single child, though realization dawned much later in life. My dad probably didn’t realize the hazards then, and the pangs this would bring me later. Perhaps he felt he couldn’t afford a second child. Anyway, much to our delight, Sandhya was born. Magam was the star. “Magam piranna Manga”, (The girl born on Magam star) we all rejoiced. I suggested the name, and she agreed, “Assthikkoru Aaan, Aasaikkoru Ponn”, (a son to inherit your wealth and a daughter to fondle) I said. “No more experiments!” Being from Palakkad, she was able to understand most of our typical usages, though she could not get the more intricate ones!

Our growth was phenomenal. Uday and Sandhya were also growing. Both were good at studies, and when other parents would take leave and sit with their children even for class exams, we hardly knew how the kids were doing. The reports, however spoke for themselves. Again, we were too busy with our jobs, or ‘career’, as the management jargon goes. Uday got into engineering, “Triple – E” which was the fad at that time. Sandhya was very clear about her priorities, “commerce is my cuppa tea”, she would say, and the brilliant girl that she was, she cleared CA in her maiden attempt, again with rank. We were “Neighbours’ envy, and Owners’ pride.” We had everything. But then destiny had different plans. After 30 years, I realize the full significance of ‘Vinai vithaithavan’ (One who has sown hatred) ………… Yes, the “aruvadai naal” (harvesting day) came - with a real bang!

Uday wanted to do his MS, and got his admission with internship at Carnegie Mellon University and we were literally in cloud nine. He went on to complete his doctorate also in his favourite “Robotics” at Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). Getting into a good organization was no problem for him. Everything was too nice and too good until one day the bomb exploded. He sent a mail saying that he is deeply “on a bondage” with an American girl, and he ‘is’ intending to marry her. Apparently, they were on a ‘living in’ relation for the past six months. I sincerely wished he sought our views, but that was not to be. Radhika was willing to accept everything, a Christian, non-Indian of diametrically opposite cultural background and food habits – anything. But a girl almost 5 years elder to him! That was beyond her wildest perception. As if to add insult to injury, he posed a very valid question, “Appa mattum enna panninel?” (What did you do Dad..?) and, that was the proverbial last straw. Or, why blame him? In a way, he is very right! You reap only what you sow.

Yes… !  Let me take you down memory lane…………..

Appa was 70 when I passed my PU. I do not know much about him.  He wasn’t of a talking kind. Most of our communications, I remember, were through body language. His look would speak volumes. In fact, I had strict instructions to be back home by 7.00 at any cost. You play, swim or whatever. But be back at the stroke of seven. That was the order. And my schedule was very clear, and specific. 7.00 to 7.30 PM, wash, and Naamajapam. Amma would recite, and I repeat. Each day of the week had specific slokas, on Siva on Mondays, Durga on Fridays etc! Have dinner at the stroke of eight, study till 9.00 and sleep. There were no peer pressures, or parental pressures to perform and be expert in everything! Times were very different! Crèche, KG, Pre-KG, Dyslexia, Remedial classes etc., were unheard of. Schooling starts after the child completes 5 years. Till such time he or she thoroughly enjoys the childhood times.

My day would start at 5.30 in the morning. After brushing the teeth with “umikkari” (fried skin of paddy peels) (or ‘mukkeri’ in local terminology!), I start off for Kalpathy puzha for a hearty swim and bath, washing of clothes etc. Morning rituals are carried out on the river bank itself! After Sandhya Vandanam, I would return home by 8.30 or so. (My ‘Upanayanam’ was conducted just as I completed seven years) Amma would feed me whatever is there, Arisi adai, (Rice cake) most of the times. There will be iddlies occasionally. Dosa was a luxury, because oil was costly! It was much later that I came to know that she was starving most of the days! I could feel the ball gliding through my throat now!

Go to school, which was 3 miles away. All of us would walk. Very few houses. Mostly mangoe groves. Pluck whatever is within reachable height, run away when the caretaker chased us with a stick! What a life, that was! In school, it was a different story. HM-cum-owner, Mr. Sharma was very strict. Always seen with a long cane, he must have been replacing the ‘weapon’ at least thrice a week. I myself have seen it breaking couple of times. Twice or thrice, I too have felt the ‘heat’. “Chutta pedai kedachaa thaan neengal ellam uruppaduvel…” (You will flourish later, only if you taste the hot caning from me now) - His standard dialogue! But being a fairly brilliant student, I was generally spared of his wrath.

Appa was a disciplinarian to the core. On the other hand, Amma was very compassionate, and understanding. She could talk convincingly - on any subject! I learnt many a mantras from her which I can recite even today, and several keerthanas, varnams, my God! So many values she had planted in my tiny brains - values which helped me quite a bit in the latter part of my life.

She used to sing very well, but Appa wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about music! (You don’t relish the finer aspects of life when stark realities are staring at your face, perhaps! These finer aspects are most often overlooked, wantonly or otherwise!)

In fact, quite a few girls of the village used to come to my mother to learn a new song, or a new mantra. It is still a terrific puzzle to me to understand how she managed to learn new songs like “Bhavayami Raghuramam” and all that much before they became popular! Our neighbour had a radio, and perhaps amma would be listening to the kutcheries being broadcast, (all houses had a single partition wall and the happenings around – the arguments, the ‘oodals’ of day time, and the ‘koodals’ after the sunset – in the neighbour’s house were for free public entertainment!) and the records played during festivals, especially Navaratri. She had a tremendous memory, and grasping power. I could have inherited them, partly, at least!

After PU, I was getting ready to go to Bombay to try my fortune as a stenographer or PA to some executive in a private firm. But Amma was very adamant, “Ore pullai thane, chamathu, nannaa padikkarathu. Eppidiyaavathu mela padippikkalaam”. (He is our only son – and very smart; studying well also. Somehow we will make him study further) She wanted to see her son as Engineer. Whatever meagre income Appa brought through upaadhyaayam was just enough to run the family. She would make pickles and sell them, do all kinds of odd jobs like stitching petticoats, gowns, blouses and all that. By God’s grace, I got a scholarship for fees waiver, and mess allowance, but then the other expenses were heavy. It is still a mystery to me how Amma managed! Five years at NSS rolled off just like that!

When I passed in first division, she must have been the happiest person. Appa just gave a wry smile, when I showed him my registration number in tiny black letters under the heading ‘first class’ in “Mathrubhumi” newspaper! Surely, they must have hoped that this guy will now take care of them for the remaining days. As destiny would have it, the sparkle in Radhika’s eyes was much more powerful than the hopes and expectations of my parents at that point in time! Not that I have much regrets. I only wish I did not act in an utterly cowardice manner as I did!  Rather than facing the situation boldly, both of us decided to run away, fearing chaos. Radhika was Ezhava, and I was from a highly orthodox Brahmin family. Society was not as permissive and understanding as it is today. Both families would have come down heavily on us, and we were really scared of our lives! Radhika’s two elder brothers were local ‘dadas’ and I am sure they would not have taken things kindly. They would have made a pulp of me when they came to know. Everything seemed insignificant at that time. And it was on a similar foggy Ther eve, we fled and took the train to Bombay.. Rest, as the saying goes, is history.

After Uday totally severed all connections with us, we were pinning all our hopes on Sandhya. Money we had in plenty. But at some point in life, you yearn for something else. Sandhya gave us no clue till the last moment, and on a fine Saturday evening, she came home with a boy and introduced him as her husband! “Meet Mathew Varghese, my husband”, she said, “We got married at the Registrar Office this afternoon. And tomorrow is the formal wedding at Byculla CSI church”. Both were colleagues, apparently. The earth was literally caving in under our feet at that moment !

Next morning Radhika had a heart attack. Though she survived, her health was going from bad to worse. Exactly after 10 months, she left for her abode leaving me high and dry. Old age without the support of your wife is terrible, let me tell you. I would call Radhika a dozen times every day, realizing with a shock that she is no more with me. But then, she was living at every inch of our palatial bungalow. I never bothered to find out about Uday or Sandhya. It is after all their life, and they have every right to live it the way they want. God bless them!

Later, I met my close friend Venkittu at VT by chance. He told me about the pathetic end of Appa and Amma. I wept like a 3 year old when I learnt that mother died soon after I ditched every one. And, there was only father to light her pyre. Seems he collapsed after lighting it and breathed his last! Apparently, it was the talking point for all the nearby villages for a very long time.

Here I am, standing alone, on the banks of Kalpathy river, or what is popularly known as “Neela” river, (Neela in Sanskrit means fish) flowing without any emotion, or care for all the happenings around. I don’t know how much water has flown through since that fateful night few decades ago. Pretty much, must be!

The sun is slowly showing up, and the villages are getting active for the grand finale. Another three days, everyone would forget everything; the only thought is the celebrations, and taking good care of the guests. After the Theru, (Chariot festival) I will be going to the Govindarajapuram village to register my name in the society which deputes Brahmins for Sapindeekaranam (10th day function after the death of someone in the family) wherever there is a need. All the wealth me and Radhika amssed, I have donated to a charitable society in Matunga which takes cre of the education of brahmin children. I am very clear about the noble path I will be treading for the rest of my life. It is a strong conviction and I have chosen my path for the rest of my life. What better way to amend for the pangs of sorrow I had inflicted on my parents...... !

PS:
                      
The story is out and out a figment of imagination; any resemblance to the characters – living or dead – is somewhat intentional..! To an extent, the content summarizes my childhood experiences, observing the happenings around, and most importantly, bits of information gathered by listening to people, and the ocean of knowledge they gave me.
Please do not ask me what is the ‘moral’ of the story, ’coz there isn’t any!

If any one feels hurt after reading this, well it is your problem!

For more insight into the “history” part of Kalpathy the ‘chariot festival’, & origin of Kerala Brahmins (‘Pattars’ as they are popularly known!) please read PART 1 – ‘(HISTORY)’by the same author

http://anandforever-anand.blogspot.com/2016/11/kalpathy-down-memory-lane-1-history.html

Anand