Ksheerasagara Sayana

One of the most powerful renditions of this song set in Devagandhari by Swami Thyagaraja, I heard a couple of years back. I can never forget it. Each time I listen to this song, it brings back the ringing tones, perfect diction and command over the flow and the improvisations that seemed to tumble out without any artifice. Genius. Not to mention the least the devotion and expressions of the singer.

To this day, I hold that I have never heard a better rendition. Of course, the fact remains that I may have been bowled over by the singer. :) He was my grandfather.

Thatha had come home for amma had promised to take him to Thiruvananthapuram for Swami Ananthapadmanaba' s darshan. That day, an afternoon right after siesta. I bugged thatha who was sleeping to sing. I even remember the songs. My favorite that my grandpa sang was Samajavaragamana in Hindolam. But always partial to Devagandhari and Ksheerasagarasayana. Whoever the singer is. When thatha started this song, I just closed my eyes and listened.

What made the occasion more special was, when he finished singing I played the same song by BMK to him. When Thatha was at the Madras airport to fly to Thiruvanthapuram that very night, he met BMK in person and spoke with him. Even mentioned my name to him :)))) BMK was humile for a change and attributed all his successes to blessings of elders like my thatha. A very very special occasion for both me and thatha.

My anna said, "The pleasantest times I ever spent with thatha were the mornings and evenings by his side listening to him sing."

Thatha has been famous for a lot of other things amongst the family's kids. He once ran a knife through the carrom board because we were still playing at around 10:30 PM. :) Even more infamous for switching off the TV when we were engrossed under blankets watching "Rasathi varum naal"..the then super horror movie. The only thing he watched was NEWS in doordarshan. He made me stand outside one day when I returned home from TVS late at around 10:00 PM. He wanted to come and meet my manager :) Poor patti. She put up with a lot of his idiocies without which he would not be Raju thatha.

That voice. Which both brings smiles and tears to my eyes. Smiles because I remember being royally scolded and tears because belonging to his blood, I cant even maintain my shruthi.

That voice passed away out of this world quietly. One Morning. Thatha silently left us. He had been hospitalized for a week. Actually, he was admitted to the hospital the very night I left for the States. He was improving but suddenly he just decided that. I don't know.

I had the great blessing of being there to meet him alive. Prostate at his feet. Get his blessings. It was as though I was there by a miracle. I went to my mom's ancestral house as is the tradition. Spent kannum pongal there. Kannu podi, blessings, photos, smiles, hugs, kisses, lots and lots of food. Thatha was very very happy.

A very very strong person, extremely honest and outright (I remember his florid letters to my cousin's school teachers on one occasion or another), equally short tempered, tall with the Iyengar nose, never compromising on excellence, superb English, courage, thrift, fortitude and forgiveness. This is how I remember my thatha.

Getting 4 girls married despite family scorn for his poor situation in life(for which he was never responsible), meager pay, moving to Chennai from Ramnad, seeing his sons well settled.

I am proud of my thatha. He was the Man of my family. He is responsible for what we are today. He shaped my mother(called her Thangappa affectionately) and my father indirectly.

For me, both my maternal grandparents are still living. They are alive in my heart.

In those evenings when I get reminded of my happy and their dreaded holidays back at TP Koil street and later at Korattur, I relive every moment that I spent with them. The melancholy is both inviting and soothing. As I close my eyes and think, every moment is replayed as captured in my mind. It reminds me of the gloomy afternoon before the rain. It is both inviting and strangely happy. Beautifully dappled with melancholy. And then it rains.

A name's credit

We often hear about people say, "She is Thengai kadai chettiyaar's daughter. His hands and scales were always pure. No one can go wrong in that family." And more. That is what a name's worth. I am reminded of this seyyul,

attalum paal suvaiyil kundrathu
alavalaai Nattalum namballar namballare!
Kettalum men makkal men makkale,
sanghu suttalum venmai tharum.

But to one who's credit is bad, the following is attributed :

Aana muthalil athigam selavaanal,
Maanam ezanthu mathi kettu pona thisai
Ellarukkum kalvanaai, ezh pirappum theeyanai
Nallarkkum pollanaam naadu!


The above is my Mom’s mantra for financial success. Probably the best advice for today’s financial world. I may have not worded it right but the meaning stands out as:

One who spends more than one’s income
Loses his name’s credit, honor, and senses
Becomes a thief in everyone’s eyes, condemned to dishonor for all his births
A bad example even to the good people in the world!

Very powerful words. Especially when my mom says them. I am reminded of this whenever I am planning to be extravagant and stop right there and take an about turn.

Ellarum poi naaladiyar padinga pa!!! MBA padika vanthutanga!!!

Kelvi piranthathu andru

The basis of human knowledge has been from the art of questioning. When you cease to question, you cease to exist as the saying goes. When I first heard this story, I was spellbound.

One day, a man awoke in the petals of a huge lotus (he did not know that!). He did not know anything. What he was, why, where, how. Nothing. Even the he was not felt. There was no perception. A few years passed. He realized that he was something. That he could see something, or rather when he turned (Oh! I can turn, turn? What’s that?), he saw different things or rather perceived a change. So yugas passed and he finally realized that he was something that could see, hear, utter, sense, and finally…question. Where am I? He looks around and sees the petals of the lotus. He tries to explore but the lotus is huge. Perseverance is the key to success, isn’t it? He finds out that it has a stalk…a few more yugas of work. What ever he had or did not, this man did have two things: perseverance and a lot of time meaning long life.

He starts climbing (I don’t know what he called it) down the stalk. Long long yugas. He becomes …impatient and realizes he could drop down instead of climbing down. A very very courageous decision. Imagine the odds. You do not know any other creature, you have a beautiful(?) home and then, a dark, empty, brooding universe. Will you give up that spot to drop onto nothingness? Well. That’s how the story goes. This man did.

He falls down beside the lotus stalk for a few yugas. Still nothing. Finally beaten and anxious to see his lotus back, he clings back to the stalk floating still beside him and climbs back a few hundred and more yugas. When he reaches the Lotus bed, he collapses and starts questioning himself. Well. I don’t seem to find anyone. As far as I have gone, there seems to be nothing like me. What am I? How am I? Let me start within myself and see if that helps. After intense meditation and each passing day bringing more knowledge about himself, one day he is surrounded by blinding light, a graceful hand lifted in blessing and staring at the most sought out one of all. He sees the Lord and realizes that he is Brahma and the first created of the world. To continue the divine work.

Nothing comes easy does it? You have me to tell you this story, I my grandma and she hers. But where does the wish come from? From me. You. Her. Patti, I am bored. Tell me something. Ever heard of about an idle mind?

The reason I brought this up was I realized in my work place that I do not learn anything until I question. And then? I have never questioned enough about my studies or education or my professed field of specialization. Not enough.

This led me to thinking about my dance classes. I tell people that I trained in dance for 13 years and then thought really hard about it the next 5 years and only now have I begin to understand the subtle nuances in gestures, expressions and feelings. I haven’t begun to practice them yet.

I go back to my days in the dance school. Thai, thakka, dhimi, tham, thakitta, thakathimi, tha. We danced as a group (GG : Gumbaloda Govindha as my bro affectionately called me). Never even thinking or thought to think about what we were doing. Then as I proceeded to a senior level, still never really thought about the meaning of the song in Telugu or Kannada or most often Sanskrit that I was dancing too. No questions. Just blind acceptance. Why this? Why not this?

Same way in school. There was one time I dared to say,” This way. Not that” and got punished for it. (But remember questioning genuinely is one thing and vidhandaavatham vera!! )

State board exams, college years, GRE…everything was a read, vomit, forget endeavor. Never taught to question. All basic needs for questioning quelled with punishment. Gomastha kalvi. I don’t say that there are not geniuses who are born with the attitude for questioning but the vast majority get forgotten. Or is that the very reason we distinguish geniuses.

I question because I think. I think because I am. I am because?

Adiyen.

Enough of this!

I was going through my blog posts dating to almost 2 years back. I suddenly felt that I had lost a lot of my vocabulary, there were words I did not remember the meaning to that I had written, stuff I don’t even think about and the simple joy of narrating the day’s happenings to a friend lost.

So long now I have been thinking about writing a blog and then go, “ well…what is the use of a blog like that? “ or “ Do I really need to write this blog?” or “well.. It is nothing really.” Or I would say I became arrogant. Holier than thou. “I can write better than this!” But never managed to, convincing myself with a poor “I can but won’t”. Who am I kidding?

I have just become closeted like the society that I live in now. I talk about work, think about it, dread it, love it, hate it. Keep thinking of challenges and obstacles and turning them into victory---- Much more importantly: How are others thinking about me?

I have forgotten that I am a sum total of small things that make me up and without those individual idiosyncrasies, I can never be me.

Of late, I have gone into this self questioning mode. Am I doing good work? Is the work I do worth anything at all? What do people in the office think about me? Am I dressed well enough? Is what I write worth writing?

Also I have started viewing relationships with a deep misgiving. They never seem to be what they are. Unless there are rules imposed at the first offset. I have been an open book all my life. I have said this to many people and have heard it a lot too. Well. A book not interpreted can mean 10000 different things to the casual reader. Not even a really serious one can understand the between the lines situations.

So after a couple of bitter memories and changes, I have decided that no relationship would be undefined. You are this to me. I am this alone to you. Only the relationship with God is unqualified: You are my mother, father, husband, brother, lover, friend, enemy, teacher, guide …anything. The others are or are not.

I have become like the Orthanc: Tall, black, shuttered with many windows looking inwards but never opening outwards.

So there is the picture of my last one year. There have been very pleasant moments lost in the hurry of work and blacker thoughts that have spoilt the joy of working independently.

The place I am living in is beautiful. Mountains and a great lake close by. Everybody reads about the Niagara but how many get to stay close to it? It is Kodai or Ooty with harsher winters. That’s all. There used to be a time when I thought well: I have the summer still. But now, my thinking has become what the heck, winter’s going to be here in three months!!!

Well. First thing. I am going to be stop penalizing myself for anything that has happened. Even if I was responsible (wow!!! That’s a good one). Then I am going to look at new relations but put a qualifier on each.

Also I am going to read. Read a lot. That is what will make me truly happy and as qualified as before.

May the stars shine upon our paths!

cows in the manger.

Millions and millions of things have happened round the world between the time I started to think about this below and even as I typing these letters. Time flies and people do too. I really wonder at the utter insignificance of the lifespan of poeple when compared with the earth's. And how big a folly the men of the world had when they captured kingdom after kingdom and proclaimed themselves Emperors and Lords.

But all the tiny manipulations seem insignificant to one who watches the face of the Earth from the Heavens above. All I can see is volcanos changing the landscape, desert storms, sea devouring the meagre land, glaciers, snow caps, mountains being worn into sand and remade into mountains elsewhere.

The ocean of humanity being swept away by natural catastrophes. The Earth can put herselves right. There can be no end to oil, diamonds, gold, iron when there are people to feed Her furnaces. Even to talk of oil being an non renewable source of energy makes me laugh.. Well in our times maybe. But in earth years?

What are we? How do we influence the universe? Are we a part of it? It does not seem to like us that much. Nor are we seeming to do any good to it. Are we really the highest evolution? Are we the ones to become One with the Brahman? What can God see good in men. (feminist :))

Arent cows better than us?? They dont kill people(unless provoked), generally peace loving, helping everybody, every bit of their life and after that.

Did you know why cows are so sacred? This answer may not be true but my mom told it to me and I took it to my heart. They are the only creatures apart from humans that can call out " amma".


Final tag point : Cows are better than us.

Question: Would I want to be a cow?

Critic : What the heck is this blog about?!!!!