Friday, December 30, 2016
Hardly a day left for the year 2016 , to close . A new calendar, updated federal holidays list, festivals and many things, are to come and surprise us. It is an English New Year - A calendar followed in most parts of the world, by Human beings! Yes, "Human Beings" who have turned as cold ones, "Human Beings" who have started running behind the bond sheets named money, "Human beings" who withstand the cold and sun at the country's border, "Human Beings" who keep forgetting good things, "Human beings who plough the land to feed the world and "Human beings" who are still human amidst all of these, clinging on to the last rays of Hope, to see this world, a better place to live in.
The year that is about to pass by, has been an year of learning, surprises, sadness, mysteries, miseries and fortune, too. Having faced all these, we are all eager to look forward to the New year - at the stroke of 12, to change the calendar, to get a 'special memories' diary, for a party on Sat eve, a get together on Sunday and get back to offices on Monday!
To many of us, 2016 had been tough and brutal. And to me, many of my loved ones, returned to their origin, leaving a rich legacy of sweet memories and a pair of eyes in me to shed tears for them and a little heart to remember them. This year was a phase of hardening and acclimatization, like a new sapling from a sterile flask to the green house to the real soil. Emotional traumas were many. Leaving my job at CavinKare was the 'most toughest' moment of 2016 for me.
To all of us, 2016 had been kind. And to me, it was gentle and surprising too. This year gave me a promotion from Miss. to Mistress - to add up stress in a man's life (supposed to be, for him). And, from there on, a new phase of life began. I stepped in to a new country, met new people, newer culture and a gelling phase has always been interesting. I learned to be more patient. Rather than making fun of the "intolerance" posts of FB, I got used to tolerance. I turned more inwardly, spending a lot of time in Solace and finding happiness in my own self. I drastically changed my association with Science and the Words. Still, I hope to revive those two lost love, back to my life. I am transplanted into a bigger family, newer persons, newer attitudes that still remains to be new.
As the last day of the roller coaster year comes to an end, I am not sure if 2016 could be called a 'successful' year per se, because I am not sure of defining success.
If success means A girl leaving her parents and the home where she grew up - posing to be strong and tell her parents, "I am fine and happy", then yes, I am successful in 2016.
If success means a girl trying to get along with the new family and understand the roles and responsibilities of self, then again, Yes I am successful in 2016.
If success means earning honest people and their love and care, for life time, then I am highly successful for the extended family of friends who are there to infinity.
If a successful year means a no - tear-only-smiles, then I am unsuccessful in 2016.
If success means climbing ahead in the professional career, then again, I am unsuccessful in 2016.
If success means faking oneself to every one - be it near or dear, and earn a fake love, lo and again, I am highly unsuccessful, as I have not yet learnt to be fakingly polite or send a fake love and bite behind the back.
With so much of incidents inked in the pages of 2016, my 2017 is awaiting with new pages for me to pen down my moments. I am not sure, of how to write or what goes in or what I foresee, into the new pages. I don't even have any resolutions to make on the new year's eve. Still, I smile and carry the hope like all of you with all due eagerness and excitement to welcome the new year 2017.
Thursday, December 29, 2016
Yeah, you read it right. But, the clamor for disproportionate punitive military strikes will only come to your mind, reading the two countries' name together.
It was a Friday evening. Checking out the websites for a good pedi - mani spa, I stumbled upon "Samina Saloon and Spa". Located in the busy areas of New York City, it was a very compact salon with all ultra sophisticated equipment. When I got in, there were few customers, who were late and I understood, I would not be able to have my services that time. I booked an appointment the next day. Hubby gotta work on weekends too, so my plans got easy. Samina, was glad that I returned the next day. She apologized for the delays and the customer etiquette of hers was more than appreciable. (Yeah, Coffees and Green teass, for the rainy chill climate, is really a big deal, people!)
I learnt while talking to her that she was from Pakistan. During the services, she kept talking to me about general Country commotions, American climate and weddings. Her excitement when I told I am an Indian and newly married, was not just a professional courtesy, it was genuine. She is such a brave and bold Entrepreneur, a cancer fighter and survivor, A proud mother of three kids who emphasized that religion is a way to feel God and it is generally the media people who make happen the clamor between the two countries. She believes in respecting the fellow humans is the good mark of respect shown to the religion. It was a rejuvenating conversation with her. I went in for a pedi - mani treatment, but looking at the quality of service and the cost of service provided made me to take few more services. I should definitely mention, the staff there were so courteous and expertise in the services they provided.
Getting independents to understand what we are trying to do has always been her challenge in running this industry. She always believed that there is an answer for every challenge she faces. While leaving the spa, the lesson learnt from her and team, "Stay cheerful and be courteous to people. It costs nothing but gives many things!"
New Yorkers, if you want to get the best beautician services at the best rates, I recommend, Samina Saloon and Spa, 1134 Lexington Ave, New York, NY 10075. Dial her up, on 212 - 628 - 9770, Block the dates and get beautiful.
Unsung Heroine - No Longer !
Saturday, December 17, 2016
What could you probably do when you see the fairy tale fails? A supposed to be fairy tale transforms otherwise because of the prince(ss) turns not to be the one, due to the temporary curse of the witch called Ego. When two strangers meet and are destined to live together in the name of a wedding and are expected to write a 'happily-ever-after' tales, there is no such possibilities of having a smooth journey 'initially or ever after' for that matter. The journey will be infuriating and incensing, in all ways. More than the prince and the princess of the fairy tales, it shall be the ministers passing the bill, to steam up the entire tale.
There are many why's that will keep lingering always. No matter what, these whys and why can'ts can never be faced by the opponents and these why cants can never have their answers, except "that is how i am!" Here are the few Why and Why can't - summarized as few . .
Why should I alone change ?
What did you do , for me to change for you ?
Why cant you give a try, when I have changed much ?
When you can not , Why should I ?
These interrogatives end with " I cant because I am a girl / boy ! "
And so, the fairy tale gets an end card.
As a matter of fact, when the couples can no longer agree on a point, there will only be storms and cyclones in the family. The unavoidable - fierce - argumentsake- quarrels will always give destructive effects on both the parents and the kids when in future, it comes for their own family.
Marriages are never sealed and no one is struck in the name of that. Toxicity in this relationship as such can never be tolerated. It is better to part and go on their own way rather to live a life for others' sake.
And, when parting is done, just rethink of the consequences and the stereotyping stamping given in the society and the life - then - after !
"Forgiveness is a scent that remains in the air for long. Holding on to grudges is like acid that will deteriorate the holder only!" - Anonymous.
Friday, December 16, 2016
Lying in a pensive mood , I found a piece of myself, missing completely from me. I have never realized when that piece of mine was lost. That light me and the lighter me is now heavy despite chopping a letter! The transition from M.I.S.S to M.R.S - literally seems small but actually is big and heavy. Missing of I.S and Adding R - One for Two - Yes, one for them two ! Not only the title was cut short , my many things were cut short - by myself mostly, by others mildly and by myself for the others largely! Now, who are the others? A whole bunch of awesomely seen people who completely differ from my long term known ideologies , a whole some of people who have different eyes for me and those visions, I never knew, existed at all, before hand! Life had given lots of surprises and most of them had turned out to be bad. My rebellious thoughts had subtle down, I wore on some new thing called patience and there, patience was again mistook and argued for. My allergies towards arguments got aggressive, pensive moods and passive moods were mostly experienced. Still, I managed to fetch a curve and put it on my lips. All new , all strange and not a soul to embrace.
When I think , why me alone, I get to listen about the "untold stories" from most of the females who "were" a major part of my life, earlier. Taken aback by surprises as to why such stories had been untold, until then, I started wondering, why is it always the power of the powerless who bleed at least five days in a month, been put to stake. Why is it always tough for the powerless to embrace another powerless and show her the power of love? What are the grudges held on for? Why are unforgivable and unforgettable things keep happening only to these powerless? Time never comes to ask, why! And that is the hidden side of the fairytale - projected - wedding, in India.
The super - amazing - sensible counselor keeps telling, "Change can stir a relationship into a new phase of intimacy as well as free each individual to develop in new ways. Remember, you are together because you are in love , well at least during the larger part of the days ! ! !"
Thursday, December 15, 2016
"Once upon a time . . "
And that is how many sweet things are remembered. She sits in one corner, walks down the memory lane, revisits many things, peeps in to her secret orchid which had always been her hide out from the external chaos and envisions the past as a reel. Then, she pushes every thing in to an airy bag, tucks them tightly, labels it as sweet memories, keeps it in an area where everything remains unspoilt, erases her thought of going back to those good old time, returns to the recent picture, realizes the past her is in no way related to the present her, makes up her mind that she should never breathe on those unspoilt stuffs . . .
The story of life full of silence, continues - a silence that had always been strange to her in her previous phase .
Saturday, December 03, 2016
Like another girl, I too sit and dream of wedding. The gorgeous silk sarees, the wedding sangeeth , the bigger crowds, the yummy meals, the matching jewelries, the romantic looks, the shy dimples . . . All these imaginations, never came to an end until I attended my own wedding ceremony , a few months ago. What does all these stuff really mean ? I tried to dedicate the hours of solitude to do a little bit of learning about the “wedding” ceremonies and of course, yes, rewinding to relive the tough and strong parts of the wedding! After my harangue of an investigation, I just realize that weddings as the industry-driven, tulle-embellished monster is not what we had practiced in the earlier times. Although we may believe that weddings are ‘traditional’ ceremonies, the foundations of which are rooted in long-practiced pact, the fact of the matter is, the purposes and procedures of weddings have varied greatly over time, culture and status. And what we’ve wound up with? Not the happily – ever – after, pla cards, for real life. We crumble with the money , ego and the dirtiest ever race named “obsessions and possessiveness”. Who is right, who is superior, who is wrong, who is to be humiliated? These are the main entities, that marriages feed to. Even the love is devoured by the hungry beast called “Ego”. What is the point in spending laks and crores of money? Let us try not to create dream weddings, but a successful wed lock life .
She had just moved to the new place and new family. She recalled how her early days were. There were a beautiful mess of people; a bunch of humans who happened to find themselves in the same corner of the world, all in all attempting to make sense of what this life thing was about. Filled to the brim with wild dreams and an energetic interest, she had a craving for anything was conceivable, similar to something greater. She would hear the talks late into the night, thinking back about a part of the world, a period in her own life that brought her so much joy. She would sit peacefully, dazzled by these stories about warm summer evenings and her winter walks in the boulevards. To her, it is a Pain that is spread far and wide. This pain is the very reason for people to leave their homes and loved ones , to go in search of something else that they have never tasted, the reason for people to wander into the obscure; for an opportunity to find all around the globe live, the way they inhale and love and deal with each other. It appears to be implausible, this idea that there's a human out there, put on this planet particularly for her . . .
Saturday, November 19, 2016
She is naïve, yes. May be her inner innocence is decorated to be bold and glee. Still, she is capable of understanding that people make mistakes. And so, she never gives way to the mistakes to be toxicants for the relationships. Lately, she even learned to give people the benefit of doubt. So that, they could stand in their truth and let her revise her thoughts. Finally she is learning. People’s lies do not have anything to do with her. She need not carry the negative vibes with her. She understood lies are just to upset the normalcy. Lies are for those who is struggling to have confidence in their own selves. So it is better to set up a boundary to our own selves. Stand up to say the truth. A breaking truth is always better than a beautiful lie.
I am stammering what to tell about her. I believed I knew her. She was like me, in a way. She had a naïve heart. She used to give a ray of hope to whom ever she met. She made the people smile and gave a bit of care that originated from her. She gave away her little heart as pieces to every one. She thought, she might be given back that heart to complete her when she needed it. Poor her, she was only hurt, as people never used to stay. They left. Sooner or later, they all left her to solitude. She was not asking them to give back hers. She quietly watched them moving away. No one, even bothered to say a good bye or return her thing. Her heart pieces, wherever or with whomever it was, never let them feel alone. People shared their pain to the pieces. Every bit of hers, healed people. Every beat of hers, made people smile. They cried their hearts out to the little pieces, which she believed to have imprinted her name. the tears washed all the alphabets away. And slowly, the pieces were thrown away. Yeah , she was graceful to tear apart her heart into pieces. But now, she is heartless. She forgot to keep one piece for herself. She ended up just to be a heartless body. Those who thought would complete her in a later period of time, never made it. There she waits, for some one to kill her.
She was feeling very perfect in his arms. His guidance, his naughtiness, his love and care, was all that she wanted. Never did she try to explore, what was beyond this care, in this world. That is the power of brother love. His foot prints carried hers, all the way she walked. There seemed to be only good moments. Stepping in her room, she could feel his presence. A fortnight back, they were talking. Laughing at each other. He was teasing her culinary skills. She was kidding him back. He taught her how to make a home. He taught her how to cook with the ingredients called love and care. He taught her how to be honest to the people. She remembered everything slowly. Everything was running like a movie, at the back of her head. Just being with him, made her feel better. A hug – a hello – a smile or even his traditional way of calling her “lusu”. She realized, after a long time, there never seemed to be enough time to spend with him in the earlier days. All the places where she enjoyed in her solitude came to her mind. She felt guilty of it. But nothing could be rewritten now. She felt the need to put her feet down and stand sturdy. She realized, she should battle her life alone. She geared up, for the strife. And, there, she becomes a strong and sterile girl. Right above her , he smiles and kisses her cheek with a rain.
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
guruvina gulAmanAguva tanaka doreyataNNa mukuti
paripari shAstravanOdidarEnu vyarttavAyitu bhakuti
Aru shAstrava Odidarenu mUrAru purANava mugisidarenu
sAdu sajjanara sanghava mADade dhIranendu Ta tirugidarenu…
Unless one becomes complete saranagathi(gulama) to his Guru, there is no chance of deliverance (mukuti).
What is the good of reading(Odi) various (pari pari) shastras, and wasting(vyartha) devotion(bhakuti) (i.e. reading without devotion)
What if one has read 6 shastras, and what if a few puranas(muraru i.e 3-6) have been digested(mugisu), what it if without associating with noble persons goes about (tirugi) thinking he is a brave soul(dhira).
Fittingly, New Jersey is going to witness the energies and vibes of devotional artists’ talents and divine Guru Namasankeerthanam on Mahaperiyava at the Sri Satguru Seva Samājam, USA.
The Sri Satguru Seva Samājam, USA (SSSS), has three broad objectives encompassing promotion of the tradition of Nāma saṅkīrtana, support of the Bhagavathas who are the pillars of the centuries-old tradition and last but not the least sustaining the principles of the Vedic tradition.
The percussionists’ family make music across all spectrum of audiences enthralling them in their own way. The quartets ensure that the divine sound that is liberated from the earthen pot reaches the audience, ease them and infringe them with lots of positivity and joy!
The Rhythm has dependably been an archetypal aspect of Carnatic music, and in the cutting-edge era of percussionists and maybe no other individual has aced the complexities and the laya bequests of the ghatam to such a great degree as PadmaShri Thetakudi Harihara Vinayakram, Grammy Award–winning Indian percussionist, fondly known as Vikku mama, What Vikku mama has done for ghatam is to what Beethoven has done to music! He fervently shaped a revolution by bringing an accompanying instrument, made of earthen clay, the one on the fringes, to the main stages twined to be an integral part of the concert, by interluding Rhythms and Resonant elements to a completely astounding structure of taal!
The percussionist team.
PC: NYC Radio
Indian heritage is known for its “Guru Shishya Parampara” method of teaching. Be it your kith or kin, a Guru is given all the respect and dignity he deserves when it comes to the learning of arts. Born to a mridangam player named Kalaimaamani Sri. TR Harihara Sharma, in a house where beats were all he heard, Vikku Mama began by learning the mridangam. Following his footsteps, the Vikku Mama sons, Sri. V.Selvaganesh and Sri. V.Umashankar started accompanying the Godfather in the present day concerts. And one need not be shocked, if Master Swaminathan has been under the tutelage of his grandfather and father Sri. Selvaganesh, another percussionist in the way.
Father Son Performing
Layam with gurunamasankeerthanam is a unique program that the New Jersians are to witness this 30th October 2016. New Jersey Sri. Swaminatha Bhagavathar, known for his divine guru namasankeerthanams, is joining with the percussion devotional artists, to make the evening filled with bhakthi and positive vibes of Namasankeerthanam – Rhythm – Layam. The globalization has brought the IT professional Sri. Swaminathan from the cradles of heritage – town of temples – Kumbakonam (South India) to United States of America. Not slipping away from the tradition, listening to prominent bhagavathaas performing Namasankeerthanam, sparked his interest towards this tradition. With the blessings of his guru Brahmasri Dr. Udayalur Kalyanarama Bhagavathar, Sri. Swaminathan and few like-minded people, established - Sri Satguru Seva Samajam, a non-profit organization to promote the tradition of Sampradaya Namasakeerthanam - creating awareness, and most importantly passing this centuries-old tradition to the next generation.
New Jersey Swaminatha Baghavathar
As said elsewhere, nothing can stop good things to merge for the cause of good, the family of percussionists: Sri. Vikku Vinayakaram, Sri.V. Selvaganesh, Sri. V.Umashankar, Sri. S.Swaminathan and Sri.Ganesan, and Sri. Swaminathan Bhagavathar have come together to enunciate the Bakthi Marg through Rhythm and GuruNamasankeerthanam.
So join us, to offer ourselves at the feet of our omnipresent Guru - நடமாடும் தெய்வம் காஞ்சி பரமாச்சார்யா.
Swaminathan – 732-325-8695,
Venkatesh – 609-689-0406. Email : firstname.lastname@example.org.
Yeah , finally the hunting came to an end, for my parents with this "Agmark Chamathu Payyan". Oh, I should also tell you how interesting the "bride-seeing-casual-event" went about!
It was an October weekend to prepare for the Halloween. Knowing about my atrocity nature, my parents announced about the event, a little while before the entry of Hero's family. Getting dressed up in all trad wears, I warned my parents that I am not attending any interviews for Wife positions.
(I should confess here few things! Point of priority, My inlaws happened to be very jovial dudes. No interviews. The so called ceremony turned out to be an initial stage of get - together! Point of Pride:: Finally, one time - for the first and last, I am satisfied that my parents were afraid of me and my performances. Yo, until M.Tech, neither my academic nor my professional performances could succeed infringing fear in their heart!!)
Like an actor's dialogue in a movie, "It was like an one day cricket match", the wedding engagement got fixed in less than a week! But, was there anyone to think of me ? Goddammit ! All I was worried about - "The Good Boy" labelled guy. The guy seemed to be calm, composed, shy, too - not - social, patient, reserved - Okay, to put it perfect, he looked an "exact opposite" of me. Whatever I had a little in reserve, he had reserved it for himself. (This is what is called future planning??) Both the bride and groom to be, approved each other without seeing each other in person. (Thanks owed to Skype and Whatsapp - T - Mobiles and Airtel, India)
These traits of the "husband to be" attracted a lot of kiths and kins to become Socrates and offer advices to me. My organ called brain, finally started working, irritated by the list of instructions that it received from "n" number of biotic factors, in the environment. At one point, the neurons got cranky that they stopped sending instructions to each other!
So, the first question, that ran in my mind was, Should I change ? If yes, then all WH questions. As i mentioned earlier, the first thing is my language. Then, what else ? I started searching - a self analysis - a search within self , to see if I would score a pass mark as a good "daughter in law" to the new family, What if, I am stamped talkative ? Come on, peeps! I never knew what on earth silence means. And, being naughty is my birthright. Should this promotion of Miss to Mistress, snatch my birthright? And, I - a self obsessed - naughty - never - give - up - crazy girl, should let it happen ? How do I get to know about this calm - composed - good boy? First of all, How can a person be calm and chamathu? (When it never works for me, it should work for none, is the logic!!)
So the transition phase ( Transition of Whom to what, you readers, will know in the subsequent posts) began ! ! !
The first and foremost point that hit the list was, me getting up early ! ! I never knew what "Early" meant! Yeah, I was more a nocturnal than an early bird. So, the game began!
The first and foremost point that hit the list was, me getting up early ! ! I never knew what "Early" meant! Yeah, I was more a nocturnal than an early bird. So, the game began!
***** To be Continued *******
With mixes of styles, trends and tradition, Chennai has always been encouraging all form of music. Though some parts of Chennai, is typically portrayed as the cradle of Carnatic musicianship, there is a family of musicians who broke this stereotype by organizing a grand event, first of its kind, in Chennai, at the Chinmaya Heritage Centre, on 11th of April, 2015. An event that honored Stalwarts of Hindustani Music, an event to offer tribute to the King of Shehnai – Ustad Bismillah Khan, an event that brought a promise about good music patrons, an event by the students, an event to enunciate Guru Shishya Parampara – Ras Barse – 2015!
Pt. Ballesh, among the handful of disciples of Ustad Bismillah Khan, has, for over 10 years, been training students in Hindustani music. In Chennai, the bastion of Carnatic music! And, many of us might not be knowing about a Hindustani Music School that teaches both vocal and instrumental to the music aspirants. Christening their home at the AVM Street as Shehnai Nivas, the Ballesh Brothers – Shri Prakash Ballesh, Shri Krishna Ballesh and Shri Shiva Ballesh, has always been following the footsteps of their father Shri.Pt.S.Ballesh to pass on the rich heritage of Hindustani classicals and Shehnai to the current generation music lovers through their music academy – Tansen Academy of Music. Pt.Ballesh took up Shehnai as his profession, following his ancestral path.
The Sanskrit sloka says “Gurur Devo bhava,” meaning “Guru and God are one.” Indian heritage is known for its “Guru Shishya Parampara” method of teaching. Be it your kith or kin, a Guru is given all the respect and dignity he deserves when it comes to the learning of arts. Fittingly, Chennaites are going to witness another Fantabolus musical retreat of the Hindustani Jugalbandhi and recitals, as a musical tribute to the bade Guru Baabajan, The King of Shehnai – Ustad Bismillah Khan, this November, 2016!
Let us gear up, roll our sleeves up, to witness the grand event – Ras Barse – 2016, staging this November.
Watch this space to know more.
Lots of love,
Friday, September 16, 2016
My dear Army Personnel,
You have attained supreme sacrifice. I can proudly say, there is nothing great than dying for mother India. But at the same time, I also understand and realize, you are not only Army personnel, who are destined to do supreme sacrifices; but you are also a son of wonderful parents (May be the only son; and it makes a stronger impact), you are also a companion / lover / soulmate for a Dignified lady love, you are also a sibling to a responsible brother / naught sister, you are also a FATHER to your dear most kid. Yes, you are all of these, and yet, you decided to be an Army Personnel who was ready for any sacrifice.
I know, I should thank you and your family for making all the Indians as your extended family. It is because of your sister who painfully let go of her brother, I am celebrating Raksha Bandhan and get gifts from my brothers. It is because of your kids, who sacrificed their fathers, my kids are holding their father’s fingers to walk their first step. It is because of your mother, who forewent her meaning for life, that my mother enjoys her child’s embrace. It is because of your loving father who had done the last rituals for his son, the other fathers in the country could have their last rites done by their sons! (As I write this, I understand, how painful it would be for Varadarajan Uncle, father of MAJOR MUKUND VARADARAJA, ASHOK CHAKRA (P) with whom I had been constantly talking to! Sorry dear father, my words might not set things right, it is just to tell you that Mukund anna is remembered every day!). And it is because of you, the whole nation is busy doing some thing or the other, yah so busily doing that most of us never knew who you all were.
Most of us are ready to watch the so called celebrities on screen. Olive green is always a fond color for many of us, just to see and not to wear. You chose to wear that and walk with your heads held high. There were many more options to survive and lead a luxurious life and yet you chose to live a short life filled with gleaming pride. When most of us preferred to hold a PS – 3 and sit in an AC chamber, you preferred to hold a riffle and walk down the snow. Yes, you know what, we all belong to the same generation and that means, we share the similar age and that makes all the difference!
I am sure, from somewhere, up above, you shall be reading this, through the zillion eyes of every fellow Indian whom you saved. As you read this, please lead your loved ones to go through the pain and be with them as they miss you and cry for you every day. As you read this, please accept our apologies on behalf of most of us, for forgetting you and letting Mother India in the clutches of bad influences. Please accept our gratitude on behalf of a few of us, who understand the pain of your loved ones whom you have left behind, for our sakes.
I am not sure, not so very sure in assuring that Indians won’t get into the clutches of bad influences (BAD may denote anything against the country), at least , those very few of us, shall refrain ourselves from all those and aspire others to be so. Let us take a small step, towards what we wanted India to be, towards that India for which you made this supreme sacrifice. Though your family members are not able to accept your absence, a few of us, has begun to see you, in every Indian for whom you all have given your lives. And, we shall let others realize it with real eyes, and the day is not too far! And times again, please do not rest in peace until that!
Bidding you with shedding tears,
A Proud Indian with a Pain.
Thursday, July 28, 2016
Stamped as naughty, social crazy girl, I was brought up in various towns / Districts / cities! And you read it right, perfectly right. My Dad / Daddy / Pappa / Dadda however you read it, it's My Father, who is still working for the Tamilnadu State Government, is a victim of inter - District transfers. So are we, his kids!
I grew up in different environment, different set of people, thanks to my Pappupaati ( my paternal grandmother) who brought us up during our earlier stages of childhood and a few maternal genes that we inherited from Mother Mohan, that we still carry at least a tint of the Bhraman Clan! The language - the typical Iyer slang - got completely deteriorated in the due course of our upbringing, the main causes could be attributed to peer pressure, ragging by senior friends, and all that.
When I attend a typical bhraman in-house function, I get to hear few songs and having a huge - a very hyoogee scope of relatives, who reside at various parts of South India, when you converse with them, you also need to converse in their tone.
If I converse with my aunt who is from down southern part of Tamil Nadu, “Appa chonnarakm,” I will be lashed out . While my father's paternal aunt's son (relation looks dissstaant, but practically we are pretty close!), I should say “Oh aval chollitu illaiyo? Naa kettundenakkam! “ is perfectly fine, coz he is settled in Kerala!
Fine, if at home, this is the situation, I go to college, and to overcome such dialects disturbances, I started talking in English. Then came the name “Peter Priya”. So started learning the local slang of whichever places I resided.
In meantime, my interest inclined towards learning multiple languages, especially during the higher secondary school and then after, coz it was mostly multi Lingual environment.
Fine, now there is an organ called Brain, which functions (am not so sure though!) got too bloody irritated, that it started it's own dialect of speaking ( a mix of all languages that I know - chaltha Hai na?).
Now that am Grown up (and am unsure though!!!) I am getting married to a typical KumbAkonam Iyer aathu Chamathu Payyan! My parents are so pretty proud about that! (And yes, me too, no doubt!)
The language has now become a minor point to improve upon. Aaham / Aathukku, Periya potti (Petti Illa), chonnalonno (chonnale or sonnangale) !
I am not so sure how my future husband to be will be conversing! He is brought up, though not like me completely, in three places though! Pollachi - a land of Kongu tamizh, Chennai - The land of Senthamizh and America - The English Land!!
If he, as discribed, a Chamathu Iyer Aathu Pullayandaan, Then I guess, I should learn, “Proper “ Bhraman Slang of Tamiz.. And it is just an initiative! “Yendima ketundayonno? Po po, Poi padikra Vazhi paarudima! innu Enna ezhudheendu irukke“
I could hear that from you, so bye for now!!
Be all ears, to listen more from me . . !
Friday, July 08, 2016
India is a land of cultural heritage. Did I say, IS? No, India actually WAS! Fine, the following thread is a vent out for me, and of course, some elderly people as well! Though not a thing is mentioned offensive anywhere, with all due respects, I would take no offense against me from my Non – Hindu / Non – Indian Friends!
All of us, or most of us, would have a Grand Mother, whose eyes would twinkle upon seeing her Husband and obviously, a grandfather, who would be smiling sheepishly, seeing his wife blushing! There was love in the family. A love that was soft, A love that was the pride of the couple and a love that gave happiness even when lust had died out! There might not be enough money, No Cars with Air controllers, No four wheelers with Moon slide and leather seats, No Yamaha FZ bikes with alloy wheels. Still there was happiness. Happiness and bliss prevailed with a bullock cart and / or a TVS excel, a Concrete and Brick home, a kitchen garden and with more than a couple of kids. No Skype, No IMO, No facebook, All Nos. Yet, the emotions were so real!
There was language heritage, be it Tamizh or Sanskrit or Hindi! Chanting OM, going to temple festivals as a BIG Family, Knowing all the relatives of yours, doing household chores ( a form of exercise, you know!), appreciating Yoga, Understanding the richness and righteousness of Indian Indigenous medication forms like Sidha, Ayurvedha and so on, was actually a routine for them. Quite normal ! No conferences, No special classes, No internets, No Jack or Peter to authenticate the righteousness of Yoga was needed, No Harvard University special team of professors needed to validate the “Thoppukaranam” that you regularly put for vinayagar – as the bestest form of exercise, No Huan Tsu / Chan wing to take classes on herbal medicines; yet, the ITK (Indigenous Traditional Knowledge) was powerful, respected, practiced and yes, was also transferred! (Forget about the Indian ITK being stolen, that’s a separate story, you know ! Like that of neem or Turmeric! ). You have also music therapies, Raagas to cure your ailments, as well (Which is not seen in Bass/Pop/jaz/heavy Metals!)
When the western people started invading, researching and realizing that “This is the way of life, as mentioned in Sanadhana dharma, this is how one must live” and all that, Indians – we Indians, have started imitating the western culture, letting go off, our moral and ethical values. We are now modern Indians, who would appreciate the cultural differences across the globe, who would fall hard easily for the western habits ( to show that we appreciate!), who would eventually forget our origins at the Roots of Mother India! The luxurious, sophisticated, Dollar Richness has lured us so much that, we have Dollars with us – Indians becoming America – residing – Indians @ NRIs, everyone in the family are almost independent or self-dependent, emotions have become Emoji’s and Emoticons, Parents getting appointments to talk to their “Kids”, every one needs a privacy(That was named Loneliness, earlier, Though!), no idea of who are your kith and kins, marriages are contracted businesses, education is imparted by concerns and institutions, a cold doctor with lots of knowledge to handle a human body with flesh and skeleton – at the hospitals, online datings, and what NOT ?!.
Though we have begun to witness the giant tree called Mother India, being chopped off and being planted in other continents, she is still surviving because of the few last roots earthed, deeply deeply down here! Let us branch out, but not chop the branches off the tree and make India a snag!
Lots of Luv,
PS., Thanks to Ramanan Athimbher for an interesting chat about Vedhas, Hindu/Indian Culture. Thanks to Madan Karky Lyrics / Srinivas Music / Srisha and MSV – The Harmonium Thatha’s song from the Album “Srisha’s Siragadippen”. Thanks to Sivaraman Ramachandran – Siva mama’s ideologies and discussions on hindu Culture and GODly stuffs. These were few of the main reasons for me to write, as always!
Thursday, January 28, 2016
In the middle of a very tiring day, I had to hop on to an auto that could drop me from my working site to my work place! (Both sound similar, right? But, they are not! Site is where I had to go on an official visit while Workplace is where my dear labs and darling cells and a super boss await me, every day!) The modern day technology lets you to carry your riding experience in your hand, in your world – the so called cellular phone, in the name of OLA! Booked an auto, which eventually got delayed and the driver had to cancel himself (Good one, as he dint irritate me, more) due to the travails of traffic in the Singaara Chennai. Having no other options left, I had to wait for a passenger - less auto, that can have its meters work (Travel claim reimbursed by Office and hence, we generally look out for “metered Auto”) and that can “carefully” drop me at my work place! The recent caving in roads, life loss of some Metro Work engineer, is all the point of concern to travel in that area, however. When mind is fuming with lot of volatile things, the HCL started concentrating more, in my poor tummy that I had the refluxes gushing to my brain’s Temperment Zone.
Finally, Mr.Mahendran (Name not changed) as modern parthasaarathy, came with a mask – covered face, in his auto loaded with first aid box , a fire extinguisher and a water bottle holder with water filled bottle. Surprisingly, I never heard the mandatory words, “Extra Fifty Rupees Madam” “Ammaan tholaivu, one way vera, eranothambathu ruva thaa ma “. As I told him the destination, he asked me to sit and started the meter ON! I started noting the Interior of the auto: A Universal pic of Jesus, Vinayak and Mosque, A Bagath Singh photo and some more written in smaller fonts. He never seemed to be irritated with the traffic on the road, not me observing him on and off, as well! Few Brilliant two wheeler drivers who had just then escaped from various circuses were also showing off on the road. And lo, it never bothered him! I should say, I had a calm ride back to office. Half way, the journey, his mobile beeped. He drove the auto to one corner of the road, parked it beyond the yellow border lines, turned and looked at me back, “Ma’am, Two minutes. It’s my sister on line.” Taken aback by his manners and his language, I smiled at him to talk and started looking at the gleaming pride in his face. The gentleness that crowded over his face, the softness in his eyes and the cheerful smile! Oh my, he took me back to the time, when my brother wished me a happy birthday last year! “Ok ma, don’t worry..... I will eat on time....... I am driving. Will drop this passenger and then eat... No no hear nearby...... Money is just an Aid to live life and you and me know, love and good heart is more important. Then why do you talk so...........” To whatever the Sister said the other side; he was responding peacefully and suddenly gave a strong word of promise and hung up the conversation. With lots of apologies, he restarted the engine and the journey. On the way, he again stopped at a hygienic yet a moderate hotel and got a food parcel and continued. He looked at me through the mirror, “Sorry Ma’am. It’s my sister. She was worried of my lunch. It’s time for lunch and hence I promised her that I will buy food for myself. I had to keep up my word, right” And over conversation picked up slowly from promises to practises to divinity to karma and stopped when the three - wheeler reached the gates of my office.
I was just wondering what a person he must be! The journey was like a full course meal to me, that noon. For the starters, an auto with a fire extinguisher and a charger that can charge the passenger’s mobile too! The relishing main course was a take home; Money is Just an AID to live life! Finally, as the desserts, A Word of promise, to whom so ever it is, has to be kept up; though they are near or far. I would always keep telling my parents, “You brought up your son as a good boy. Had it not been that, he would be alive! So, don’t ask me to be Good / Soft spoken etc.”! But, today, I realised, it is because of their good karma, I could witness many good people, not considering the autowala alone, but many other lovely people who give me the unconditional love. Helping someone who is in need will let us to be helped by others when we are in need of. Everything in the world is interconnected and every happening has a reason. When we flow with this law of the universal nature, we are nurtured and can live a quality of life. I started changing my perception towards life and death, people and places, as this realization dawned upon me. Living life is like rowing a boat in an ocean. You have two choices. Tide over the waves or let the waves take you in. Similarly, fight against the troubles you pass by or surrender yourself to the supreme power that has better plans to rescue you. There are many untold words which I fail to employ to explain the rest of the substance of the conversation. But to me, at the mid of the day, all that is left there to feel, was gratitude.
As I got down, I gave a couple of hundred rupee notes and I was tendered the exact change. This time I was not surprised, because, Money is just an aid to live life!
PS: Actually, there are some good men around the world. And, Men do also carry a feeling called love and affection. It is that they do not know to express it, at the right time in the right way. And when they express, mostly others fail to understand it is love or the routine responsible word. Not all men are bad and Not all women are good!