A very engrossing read by Jawar Seetharaman who also wrote Udal, porul Ananthi. This book explores the subtle relation between human expectations, disappointments, vengeance and hatred carried over to the other world as well.
For some time yesterday, the title applied to my case. I spent the weekend in Washington with my friend from undergrad, Ambika. The trip was real fun. We went to Washington D.C and a State park called “Cunningham falls state park”. Ended up climbing the mountain to the top of the falls and beyond. It was wonderful exercise for the mind and the body.
Ambika, Sundar, Satish, Rakesh and me formed the gang that hit the state park. Ammu being too tired to climb the falls, the intrepid adventurers were the other four, Sunny after some persuasion. He is ammu’s husband. :) . You do need to eat!! Vengeance.
It was a delightful hike and Satish was a photo buff and had some interesting ideas for photographs and Rakesh turned out to be the cameraman also providing great script to the drama. Great expectations from the pictures.
But the true fun came when I left for my drive back to Jamestown. Had not checked out the weather report. Bad mistake. Turned out to be the deluge overturned on the earth. To this day in my life, I have not passed through a worser storm. But there was a day when I drove to Columbus which was almost as bad but that was daylight and this was a night pitch black. Fear.
Add to it GPS troubles. I- 99 had been rebuilt and my GPS did not know where I was. Lost like an hour to route changes and add to the mental agony of a night like this in America on an interstate no idea where you are going and your cell phone dying on you.:) Hatred.
Fog so dense and thick that you could not see a couple of feet into it. Fog lights were useless. Actually made things really worse due to the Tyndall effect. The other car could see me but I could not see the lines on the road. For a mile or so, I drove not knowing that it was a two way road. :) Eerie.
I got back to the old route that the GPS needed calling Rohan. Got into Pennsylvania’s by roads into Interstate 80 and onward to US 219. And then.
Storm catcher.
The night was lit up by streaks of lightening that lit up earth and the sky for brief flashes of time. A dark night and then a glorious purple light in a streaking arc. I was driving for my dear life. Every moment I was torn between joy, wild joy to be witnessing this display and the other afraid that it would hit me next and I would be among the angels. Other world.
There was a guy in front of my in a SUV and we were both racing to get out of the storm, running it out and hanging on there together. He for me and I for him. For if anything had happened, there was nothing else. Nothing else at all.
Minnal. Edi. Mazhai. Katru. Moodupani. Nan. Skirts of cloud racing across the sky gathering me in a wet embrace. Lights, music, power. It was a beautiful night. Starbucks coffee extra hot vanilla latte, and some koruks.
Silence. My CD got struck in the car and all my cassettes were literally worn out. I did not listen to music for most part of the drive. Turned out to be a blessing.
An enchantingly eerie experience driving at 60-65 mph on a 45 mile road, covered with rain, fog, clouds that hung so low that I could have touched them if I wanted to, lightening and thunder. Me. All alone.
My version of minnal, mazhai, mohini. Fortunately this one’s alive and kicking. Or rather writing.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, February 23, 2009
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!!!
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!!!
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