Wednesday, May 31, 2006


Need I say anything? Of course, a couple of bus conductors did freak out after seeing the state of it...

And yes, thats how I look these days...

Monday, May 29, 2006

The curse

"Ananth!" His uncle Padmanabham cried aloud!
Eight year old Ananth was becoming unruly by the day. His eating and sleeping habits were never proper anyway. His handling of things at home had gone from bad to worse... a chinaware or a glass piece broken once too often these days, and his respect for elders was not worthy of mention at all... He was living in his own world.

Last week, his grandfather finally bought the tricyle that Ananth had been clamouring for. Alas! He didnt ride it even once. He was often seen sitting on the tricyle with the tricyle upside down, and peddling the front wheel with hands though! And after just three days, he came into the kitchen grinning, sporting a wheel of the tricycle in his hands. And then there was the crockery disaster when he wasnt allowed to watch his favourite mythological because they had to attend a wedding.

But what happened just now was the worst. His maternal uncle Padmanabham had just come to their home. He was very fond of Ananth, and used to turn a blind eye to the complaints of Ananth's mother. He understood Ananth like no one else. While this complaining was going on (as usual), Ananth opened his uncle's briefcase and started rummaging about. He found an alluring object-- a paperweight with some colourful gluey liquid within. It held its attention more than it should.

"What is this Vasudha! Your son has almost killed me!". At their doorstep was the colony's recognised Homoeopathy doctor Mr.Murthy, visibly shaken. He was an old man with a bald head. Mesmerised by the paperweight, Ananth wanted to put it to good use. On the road, he saw the bald head of Dr.Murthy being transported by his legs., which had been an object of his curiosity since long. Here was an opportunity to experiment...

How important can a tiny pebble on the road be? A life-saver if you ask Dr.Murthy, especially if you are fortunate enough to have it stuck in your foot and you bend a just little forward to have a look, just when an impish kid hurls a monstrous paper-weight right at your head. Ananth was disapoointed to miss this platinum opportunity. The doctor was sent home after due apologies and assurances.

"Ananth!" His uncle Padmanabham cried aloud! He walked towards a shamelessly beaming Ananth and stood in front of him, menacingly tall. Ananth was uncertain what was going to happen.
"Ananth, you have been a very hard kid of late. I cannot let you go on like this. I have to punish you." Ananth gulped. This was going from bad to worse. But he could still handle those traditional punishments--- pinches, beatings et al., so he was still cool.
" I know your parents have tried all kinds of punishments to straighten you. But I know all this will not work. You need a stricter punishment not only to set you right, but also to set an example to other kids". This was getting wierder and wierder! He was actually getting a little scared now as he saw his uncle take a little water from a glass into his right palm...
"So here is my punishment. Ananth! I have decided to lay a curse upon you for your entire life." By this time, Ananth was totally scared. Raising his voice, his uncle said the following words--
"Calling as witnesses all the eight directions, the four vedas, the five elements, and the six seasons, I curse you to be unstable throughout your life, to be disliked by all throughout your life, to bring bad name to you and your parents throughout your life, to be sad and miserable throughout your life".
And he sprinkled the cursed water on a pertified Ananth's face. Little Ananth was crushed. He was gaping stupidly at his uncle.

It took some time for the facts to sink in. After that, tears had no problem in manifesting themselves.
"Amma!" went up the howl. His mother was watching all of this. "Uncle has cursed me. He has even mentioned the eight directions." It was tough not to laugh, but she held on to her stern face. He was told by his mother while they were watching one of those mythologicals that Oaths and curses have double the effect when 'the eight directions' are mentioned.
"Ananth! You have not be a good boy of late. You have hurt many people who love you. Yama's accountant Chitragupta has detailed accounts of each person. He has punished you in the form of this curse. I cannot help you."

Ananth was crushed. All his short life, he had been living according to his own will, never listening to anyone. And now, he was beginning to realise how wrong he was. How much hurt was caused due to him. Alas that it was too late. He was destined to lead a lowly life.

When Ananth's father came home from work, Ananth was not there to greet him. Nor was he seen at the supper. He couldnt control his laughter when he was told happened. But he knew what whatever happened, will change Ananth for the better.

Late in the night, his mother came to his room. He was lying sideways on his bed, his pink tender cheeks still moist with tears. She sat beside him and began stroking his hair with the tips of her fingers.
"Amma!" he uttered and hugged her tightly, and began crying again.

After consoling him a bit, she said, "You know, I had been to the temple this evening. I was talking to Pujari thatha. I think he has some information that might interest you."
"I dont want any information. My life is a waste anyway." Ananth lamented.
"Listen. Your uncle, in his anger has forgotten to mention 'The Nine Planets' in his curse."
"So? Isnt it enough that the eight directions are mentioned?"
"Pujari thatha was telling me that 'the Nine planets' are far more powerful than 'the eight directions'. If you dont mention them in Kali-Yuga, the curse is not that powerful."
"And you can actually defeat the ill-effects of the curse"
"Ohh!" He was a happy amalgam of relief and happiness. "But how?"
"Very simple. By doing exactly opposite to what the curse said. You should learn to be stable, to be liked by all, to bring a good name to your parents, and to be happy. Thats it!"
"Thats it?"
"Yes! And you must listen to your parents."
"Ok Amma! I will do whatever you say" He was totally acquiescent now. He was beaming like never before. he was on seventh heaven. His life, it seemed, was given back to him. He wanted to start afresh.
"You can start off by having your supper now."
He jumped upon her and she carried him off to the kitchen for a quick late night meal.

Friday, May 26, 2006

Singularity--Part IV

Amy and Chris were playing under starlit skies. Amy called her little brother Chris "Look, there is mom". And Lisa's children saw their mother on the top of a hillock. Lisa stood like a statue with outstretched hands in the wind, still and blissful. Her hair was flying in the breeze. She was talking to the nature. It has been almost fifteen years but since still remembered how Lucy, one night, let her peek into the infinite bliss of the singularity that she herself was attached to so dearly.

Suddenly all went dark... as if the darkest of the nights spread her wings of jet black about her. Fear gripped her... she didnt know what was happening.
She groped madly... only to find nothing... nothing at all.
She yelled for help... only to find that her voice died before it reached her lips.
She got up, and ran till her legs were shaking with debilitating exhaustion... only to find that she didnt move an inch.

She was alone. All alone. She fell on her knees crying. Just then, she heard a soothing voice calling her name. It was a voice she had heard before. It was Lucy's. She called again. It was slender as an ivy, yet in it was a power far beyond comprehension. A power unlike what Lisa had seen earlier. It could move mountains and crush entire populations, but it was not destructive. It reminded Lisa of something far back in time... something everyone in this world knows, and yet is dying to know. Something that was before the genesis of the time... Lisa stopped struggling.

"I am here Lisa. Dont worry. I have to show you something." And Lisa turned to the direction of the voice. In the darkness that stretched far into the distant and forgotten space and time, for the first time, she could see something... something that shone through the diaphanous veil of her own tears... She wiped them off. She didnt need them anymore. A tiny flame in the deep night. And it was approaching her. As it came nearer, it grew bigger. She was afraid no more. And she saw visions within the flame. Visions of entire galaxies being devoured by other galaxies of universe, and new shapely ones with millions of stars and billions of planets being created by shapeless, formless nebulae, and then as the flame came close to her body, it had grown to a huge column. And she saw that all these galaxies, nebulae, stars, and planets started swirling round and round. Engulfing them was huge vortex beginning from a single point.
A Single Point.
From where everything has come, and into where everything shall go.
And she was within the flame.

Outside, it had long been since Marigold bud sprouted, opened up into a flower and died away. The chrysalis beside also has long been empty, dangling from the tree. Yet, nature is never in haste. Some metamorphoses take more time than others. Lucy knew it would be a hard time for Lisa. Yet, she did it because Lisa was the only one who was capable of understanding the loftiness of Lucy's goal. And so Lisa went into a pupa for her rebirth. Each time a tornado came, she grew from within. Subtle changes are easy to be overlooked for ordinary humans. They could do nothing. And how could they? They understood nothing. They were but ordinary mortals. And one day, Lisa came out of her own chrysalis. She opened her eyes and there was radiance of a higher world in them. Enlightenment.

Lisa came down the hillock, and she took her children home.

Singularity is Inevitable.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Singularity--Part III

On that afternoon, her father looked on as Lisa clutched the bedding with her hands and spread her legs apart. It had been a year of unnatural number of tornadoes, as one twister after another lashed the town. There was no reprieve. And each time a tornado approached, Lisa would explode into her fits of violent base emotion. Her father never got used to it -- whenever it began, he began to tremble violently, and knelt down before the cross in his room, praying ardently for his daughter's return to the living world, as Lisa's comatose body splashed itself in its own sweat reveling in shameless ecstasy in front of her own father-- again and again, she arched upwards and shaking the bed violently, she would let her bottom down with a thud, again and again she would utter moans of indescribable pleasure, again and again she whispered words of unabashed lust being satiated. He wanted to consult the priest, but was mortally afraid of the treatment they would give to Lisa. It would be easy for them to believe that she was possessed. She wasnt. She was in a coma. Nevertheless, the advent of a tornado always struck a morbid fear in the hearts of the people in that house, for that triggered those abhorrent reactions from such a lovely creature that Lisa had been.

Lucy was brought up in a small town in the mid-west. Some believed she was a witch, some others believed she possessed supernatural powers, but most agreed that there was something very weird about the girl. Lucy was not an ordinary girl. She was blessed with a gift. A gift of the feeling. She could feel a lot of things... the sighs of a bough laden with the burden of blossom in spring, the laughter of a brook as she pranced around the trees down the hill in summer, and the dark unfathomable intellections of cold gales in winter as they passed far above. And she talked to them. Understood them. And inquired as to their well-being. But her love was given to one force she admired the most. She was a child when first she first heard of Him. She was fascinated by the description. And her fascination only grew by her age until she was completely in love with the Tornado. She yearned to see Him, talk to Him, understand Him, love Him. Ever she asked those gentle breezes whether they were chased by One. The answer was no each time.

One dark afternoon, she experienced an inexplicable elation, and her heart beat sounded like a train on a bridge. She couldnt control neither the smile on her lips nor the blush on her cheeks. She left her room and went out in the dark weather to meet the gentle breezes. They giggled as they saw how she blushed. And she blushed more. She got angry at the impish winds threw a stone at them. They laughed aloud, and passed around her and through her. And the weather changed suddenly. There was a rumble in the clouds. Thunder drummed the skies and lightning flashed her displays. They all spoke of His coming. The van of his entourage was approaching. The wind-heralds were blowing horns and declaring His hallowed name aloud to all who can hear. This was His dominion. His empire. And He was here to reclaim it. Winds which she had never seen or felt before. Birds flew away, and beasts ran hither and thither. The Emperor was on the march. She tried to talk to them, but they were proud and loyal servants of their Lord. They marched on, rank after rank, as battalions of the Overlord of Gaia.

And He appeared on the horizon moving majestically along. And she saw him. Her love. But, when she saw him, she realised he was not just her love. He was more. He was the One. He was the desitnation. In his vortex, she saw millions of stars and galaxies and universes taking birth only to go back into the same vortex. He was that singularity that she, and all the humanity had been seeking unknowingly. Tears flowed down. She raised her hands to meet Her destiny, and walked to towards Him as if she were in a swoon.

She almost reached his outstretched arms when she was pulled back. The men of the village saw her 'madness', and ran after her. She yelled and wriggled and writhed and wailed. But of no avail. They held her fast and locked her up in the basement. She was not allowed to meet Him. He could not bear it as well. He destroyed the entire town, uprooting old towers and punching through renowned forts-- little resistances of a vermin folk who dared to defy His authority. The trail of destruction that He left that day in the town was unprecedented and unparalleled. For many days, her unconsolable grief haunted her body, mind and soul. She was sent to her uncle's town for a change of weather. And they were adivsed to keep her locked. For her own safety. Heh! All these people with insumountable piety and of immeasureable wisdown beyond ages of time could not understand the simple truths of the universe and of life. But then, these truths were at a higher plane far above the ordinary human psyche. She smiled forgivingly at those people devoid of the means of even trying to comprehend the nature of the universe.

Yet, she knew the moment she saw Him that she would meet him in the End. Inevitability is a phenomenon not many can handle, even when it is working their favour. Yet, Lucy was no ordinary girl. She began to understand the beauty of the grief and the sweetness of the separation. And she learnt to be strong. She wanted to be in her best physical form-- a quintessence of beauty and perfection when she would meet Him.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Singularity--Part II

Lisa was unnaturally attracted to things that others thought were not normal, or even ok. For long hours, she would go into the room where her elder cousin Lucy was locked after her misadventure. It seemed to most that Lucy had lost her mental stability. Yet, there was something in her that dragged Lisa towards her. She would sit on a stool outside Lucy's room and watch her for long hours- her head in her cupped hands- until someone called for her. Lucy never looked at her. She always looked downwards.

One day, she slowly raised her head and her expressionless eyes looked straight into Lisa's eyes. Lisa's heart throbbed like a castle gate being rammed by a battering ram. She fled the place. But she came back again, late in the night when everyone was asleep. She felt that a relation was beginning, and she didnt want it to end. She was eager to know something about the experience Lucy had. She came to the window and opened it. She was terrified again to see Lucy still looking at her, as if she had left her only a moment ago. She controlled herself this time. She relaxed and sat on the stool.

"Hi." Lisa attempted to start a conversation.

Roby got up in the middle of the night for his usual restroom break. He came out of his room staggering down the corridor, when he saw a sight which he will never forget in his life. Lisa was on lying on the ground with her back down and she was moving her body up and down, in a pulsating motion ... she was arching her body upwards more and more... her eyes were closed very tightly... her mouth was wide open... she was letting out short forceful bursts of air... and she was profusely drooling. He yelled and trembling, he ran to his parents. He woke them up and dragged them to the spot. She was lying on the floor.. her long golden hair wallowing in her own drool, and the lips arched in a smile that dissappeared slowly... she lay peacefully on the floor, her body wet with sweat. They ran to her and called her, but of no avail- it seemed she had lost her consciousness. They tried sprinkling some water. It didnt work. Lucy was inside her room, with her head in between her knees as usual. They rushed her to a hospital where the docs told them that she was in a coma.

"What? How can it be? She is a healthy girl!" her father was baffled. He grabbed the doctor's shoulders and demanded," We had dinner together last night. And now you say she is in coma. How do you explain this?" And the doctor had no answer. He could and didnt want to believe that his hale and healthy daughter slipped into coma-- all of a sudden, just like that! There has to be a reason. Lisa's mother almost fainted at the news. There was no consoling her. They awere at a loss to explain to themselves, what just happened to them. No! This is insane! It is not possible! The doctors themselves understood very little of the case of course. They were apprehensive about keeping Lisa at the hospital when they were told about what happened to Lisa. So she was brought home and was taken care of at home.

Lisa's father brooded over the incident for long. He searched for a reason. And he found one ... one that suited him, though it was not far from the truth. Ever since Lucy was locked in that room, Lisa showed a weird interest in her. And Lisa was found near her room. She must be the cause of all this! No, She IS the cause of all this. And his face, devoid of colour, suddenly burst forth in redness, fountains of anger surging in his body. He went to the Lucy's room.

The only thing that saved Lucy from getting bludgeoned to death with the bare hands of that raving lunatic that he had become was the pity of Lisa'a mother who came running, hearing her cries of pain. There was talk of sending her to the asylum, but Lisa's mother didnt want the issue to come into the open. So, Lucy was thrown into the basement of the barn and her legs, chained. She was fed twice a day with the left-overs. Lucy was happy with her progress.

Monday, May 22, 2006

Singularity--Part I

Inevitability of the impending moment is known best to the present one. Little inevitabilities have always guided, hindered, protected and hurt the universe in its journey since its beginning. The sum of all these little everpresent inescapable inevitabilities is the phenomenon that was before the universe and that which drags the universe towards it endlessly. Singularity. Oneness. It is that single point of energy from where all the matter and time have sprung. And it is the gigantic vortex where all the matter and time are dissolved into. Singularity. There is no escape.

There is no need for any haste. Beauty springs forth in its own time. A marigold bud waits to unfurl its actual self. Also waiting is a chrysalis nearby, for its end. At the other side of the end is a beautiful butterfly waiting to emerge. Yet, there is no need for any haste at all. It was a dark afternoon. Dark thunderclouds veiled the sky. Everything was calm, still, and serene. The bud sways to the occasional gentle whiff of a breeze along with the chrysalis. And then, everything again is calm, still, and serene.

Lucy could feel the oncoming change in the weather. She had been chained in the basement for more than a year, where not a single ray of light was allowed to enter, nor any wind allowed to dance. And yet, she raised her head and swayed to the breeze outside and let out a moan in anticipation of the One she loves. Slowly, her eyes opened and she tried to look inside the pitch dark of the room. Everything is so dark. Everything is so so dark. Yet, a smile blossomed. Inevitability was working in her favour. She knew it. The head dropped forward again.

Tim saw his fifteen year daughter Lisa twitch. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something, but the words died down. He didnt want to believe it. It could have been his illusion, and he wanted it to be an illusion. He didnt want it to begin all over again. He could feel of the whiff of a breeze coming in from the large windows. The view outside the window that afternoon was bleak. He placed his palm over the forehead of his comatose daughter and moved it over her head. She had such lovely long golden hair. He smiled his thought away nervously, and proceeded to leave the room. The windows were open and the slow gentle wind kept ruffling her eyelashes. Her head started moving to and fro and the lips curved upwards into smile of pleasure. She let out a moan of pleasure. He started and turned back. The ordeal had begun.

Young Roby hated his job. With a heavy heart, he waded on, from his home to the unused barn with a plate of food. He reached the barn and opened the door to the basement. A sharp guttural shriek from below pierced his tender heart and he almost dropped the food. It has been more than six months, but he never got used to that shriek. He slowly went down the steps and saw Lucy with her hands over her folded legs and head in between the legs. He kept the food down, and with a trembling hand, pushed it a little towards her, and ran away up the stair as fast as he could. He waited for a while for her to finish her meal, but nothing seemed to happen. He bent down. She didnt move. He realised his mistake. He slowly lowered the basement door, not closing it completely. There was the sound of the plate being dragged, then a chuckle, chewing sounds, and then some words inaudible, a laughter, again the chewing sounds, and then a long gulp. Roby slowly opened the door. She was again seated in the same position as he saw before, but the plate and the bottle were empty.
When he came out of the barn, he looked relieved yet not knowing how long would this go on.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Some pics from the trip

Here are some pics that I like from the trip... Let me know if you also want the usual ones... I should mention that I was the official picture-taker (I refrain from using the term "Photographer") on the trip.

Some Pride still being salvaged in the land of sycophants of the occident. Srirangam.

At Karthik's home inside the Praakaaram of Srirangam temple town. (If you ignore the red eye, you can find me as well). The two elderly people are his Aunt and Uncle. The rest are my collegues. Karthik is to the far right.

Believe it or not-- The two rupees tea... still available in India, with all its frills. Kumbhakonam bus stop.

His Mineral Water.
Vaideeshwarar Kovil.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Tam Tour

OK! Lets see the number of busses I travelled in , during the last weekend (starting from Friday 7:30 PM):

In bangalore
1) Brigade Road signal to Corporation circle

2) Corporation circle to Majestic

Outside Bangalore:
3) Majestic to Salem (reached at around 3 in morning Saturday)

4) Salem to Tiruvaanaikaval in Trichy (at around 7AM)

5) Tiruvaanaikaval to Srirangam ( My collegue's uncle lives within the Praakaaram...he showed us the
Srirangam temple for over 2 hours till mid morning)

6) Srirangam to Main guard gate (went to see rock-fort at almost exatly noon-time! It is a wonder the soles didnt develop blisters climbing the final stage of the steps. And finally finally finally! I drank the great Bovonto, thanks to the propaganda by Madamoiselle Pingu... This was the only time when my collegues felt I let them down! They had a sip and they looked at me with the feeling that if they didnt know that a person like me existed, it would be a bad idea afte all... "Glycodin" was the term they kept repeating after drinking it.)

7) Main Guard Gate back to Srirangam (took rest in the afternoon)

8) Srirangam to Trichy main bus station ( junction?)

9) Trichy to Tanjavur (at around 7:30 PM.. only a stop en-route.. no temples)

10) Tanjavur to Kumbhakonam (night stay... no temples, 2-rupees tea early morning at the bus stop)

11) Kumbhakonam to MayilaaduDurai (Sunday early morning)

12) MayilaaduDurai to Vaideeshvarar Kovil (collegue-junta were intrigued by the nadi-jyotisham shown on "maano ya na maano" on Star-One channel. This was the main purpose of the trip. Also, super temple).

13) Vaideeshwarar Kovil to Chidambaram (temple closed during afternoons due to "security reasons".. security my foot!)

14) Chidambaram to Cuddalore (What a ride!!... the average speed must have been around 70 Kmph)

15) Cuddalore to Pondicherry (reached at abt 4:00 PM)

16) Pondicherry to Bangalore (reached at abt 3:30 AM Monday)

The last bus ride was interesting: The main idea was to go to Pondy beach, and start by late evening. But all busses-- govt. and private were full.. There was only one KSRTC bus, starting at the oddtime 5:30 PM. We toyed with the idea of staying back in Pondy, taking the bus to Tiruvannamalai late evening, and then another one from there to Bangalore, but too tired to even think of a break journey. There was no one in the bus when we sat... except for a few gaudily dressed eunuchs. Tense times...

And when the bus started, a few others joined us. The driver promptly informed us that he didnt know the route. So, a Tamizh guy helped him out.. but since the driver didnt knwo Tamizh, my collegue had to act as an interface. This went on till Tiruvannamalai, where that navigator got down, but several other knowledgeable navigators got in, and guided us on. But we were getting hungry and the driver didnt show any inclination to stop anywhere.. and who would come to our rescue but the good ol' eunuchs! The leader of their pack "pressurised" the conductor and driver to stop somewhere in the wilderness around mid-night. So, we had whatever we could find there, and began the last step of the journey. It turned out that the driver didnt know the route to Majestic even after entering Bangalore. Thankfully, the conductor did know. So.. there we were! In Majestic at 3:30 PM on Monday. After a brief forgettable auto-ride, I was back home.

Perhaps I will post some pictures when I get them. Till then, here is a rough route map of our journey:

Monday, May 15, 2006

Three Tears for Waltz

Three Tears for Waltz

There is a certain mystical quality about waltzes-- a certain hidden strength that takes everyone in its stride towards eternity. Sometimes gentle as a gondolier taking me through the Venetian waterways, sometimes sprightly as the railway locomotive passing along hedges and under bridges, and sometimes grand as the Emperor riding forth to battle, waltzes never cease to hold me entranced, and I see life with all its little tricks continuing to lead us on, tearing through the formless veils of future and clearing the mists of providence. Yet, the journey has a certain completeness with its contrasts, encompassing minor inconveniences as well as little joys, sorrows unforgettable as well as rhapsodies reaching crescendo, loneliness in large and hollow palaces as well as affection in cozy cottages, royal tragedies as well as countryside comedies, intrigues for the throne as well as gossips about the village belles, all embedded in the little folds of that fabric called life. Ever a new fold appears and there starts a new tale, ever another unfolds and a story reaches an end, only to continue into some other fold, all in a perpetual waltzing motion.

There is a certain nature about the simple three-beat rhythm that gives new strength to the imagination. A certainty of a true fantasy, born out of simplicity of the rhythm, that transports me into a world where tiny droplets of water are ever in motion around me-- little orbs of bright light falling from the sky, recalcitrant, pristine spheres born out of a splash aiming for the stars, and nature's most precious jewels-- tears, each with a tale to tell, playing hide and seek with one another, all swaying hither and thither in one slow solemn content motion to the ever-present rhythm of the waltz.

One there was, rather big for a tear drop and he had a sense of urgency about him, always eluding others. He came right in front of my eyes, hovered a little and settled into a calm spin in the air. He was heavy with memories-- of the person who gave him birth, and of the times he was born in. And slowly images appeared within him. I saw in him an image of a little girl in tears. So young and full of life, but why was she in tears? And then there was another one-- a young man crying over the body of an elderly woman, perhaps his mother. The third one showed an old gnarled man sitting alone on a high throne crying, the pillars of stone and the roofs of the majestic hall were crumbling about him. This was long time ago, ere the earth and the sky were estranged and so has he remained ever since, floating and gliding in the vast recesses of fantasy. He was the tear of loss, also called the eternal tear. He started hovering again, and bowing, he left soaring up into the high airs.

And there was another-- On a pedestal, and he had around him, a following that recognised as truly the highest ideal of life. I went to him and greeted him. He smiled, and within him, forms gradually materialised ... of people rebuilding fallen empires through sheer perseverance and strength of will, of proud mothers of slain warrior-sons laying wreaths of tears on their sons' bodies, of the worshippers of art dancing with wild madness at the heights their passion took them to, of the men of science offering a great gift to the humanity. I was humbled. I closed my eyes and remained so for a while. A smile slowly blossomed. I was at peace with myself to have felt an inkling of that same passionate fire that drove all these people to their glorious destiny. I bowed to the great tear of passion.

I was about to leave when I was suddenly stopped. I felt a strong pull towards something, for some inexplicable reason, I did not want to see. I was summoned. It seemed like all the ways in the world led only to one destination. A strange power was at work. In a trance, I was dragged against my own will to a place in that world of tears, dew-drops and droplets where I never visited, nor cared to visit at all. There was a huge pyramid. I climbed the steps. Little droplets of water caressed my cheeks... each produced always a new sensation, a new feeling, and I watched myself with surprise, seeing the ways I reacted. From where I was, I could see that at the top of the pyramid was an altar and an ornate conical roof with four pillars. When I was led to the top, I saw that I was standing in front of tear drop, if a drop she was that was as big as I am. She was slowly spinning, and when she saw me, she smiled. And slowly, visions appeared in it...

I was in a house with a woman. She was preparing tea for me. And then we sat for a long time by the window, watching the night sky, sipping our tea.

And then, the vision was taken away as it appeared. Another appeared...

I was in traveling in car with a woman on a full-moon night on a beautiful drive with trees laden with white blossom on either side.

This abruptly ended as well. And there was another one...

I was walking on a paved road in some woodland along a pond on a lazy afternoon with a damsel. And this vanished as well.

I realised that I knew who the tear was, and how she grew so big. She is the One that never was allowed to flow out of the eyes. She was the tear of love. Each time she tried, some iron door cruelly stopped her way out. And so she went back, and she waited for the next time. And she grew each time. She demanded her due justice.

And I still stand in front of her, like an image carved out of still water in front of my own creation that I disowned. Will I accept her as my own and allow her out and join the waltz of life? Or will I, as usual, turn my back on her? Only time can tell...

Friday, May 12, 2006

Dogs Ahoy!... Again!!

Snatch again:

Mickey: Good dags. D'ya like dags?
Tommy: Dags?
Mickey: What?
Mrs. O'Neil: Yeah, dags.
Tommy: Oh, dogs. Sure, I like dags. I like caravans more.

So continues my association with dogs (or is it 'dags' this time?) on this blog. It turns out that my juvenile phobia of dogs, which I wrongly used to characterise as cynophobia, was only that-- juvenile phobia of dogs. As it turns out, I am no longer affected by it. When I actually sit to think about it now, there are few kinds that still terrify me urging me to leg it when I encounter them:

1) The really really large ones of the kind of German Shepherd, etc
2) The really really lean and tall ones like the hounds, etc
3) Huan, the hound of Valinor in whose baying, the horns of Oromë himself are heard.

The others, esp. the street dogs, I can handle pretty well... (I think). Sometimes, when I am in a really bad mood, I have wild fantasies of me chasing the street-dogs and dealing unto them, their deserved doom--the death (Exactly how is another story.. mail me for more details!)---
And lo!
poye poche!!!
chole gaachi!!!!
All my anger is gone... just like Lord Narasimha's anger dissipated when he thrust his long nails into Audumbar tree (Ficus racemosa). Come to think of it, the street-dogs are doing a great job as my stress-busters.

The whole point of this post is that yesternight, I had a strange dream---
I suddenly ran out of my home, and three dogs started following me. I knew they were running after me, and suddenly I stopped, turned around, and killed one after another, all the three in three totally different dramatic ways, and came back home.

Now I know freudian psychoanalysts will not waste a single moment to attribute this to some sexual encounter in their childhood that they were desperately waiting to attach to somebody,but hey.. as they say, "whatever floats your boat..."

Friday, May 05, 2006

An Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog

Finally found the poem I was looking for since years, with an interesting story to go with it:

An Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog

Good people all, of every sort,
Give ear unto my song;
And if you find it wondrous short,
It cannot hold you long.

In Islington there was a man,
Of whom the world might say
That still a godly race he ran,
Whene’er he went to pray.

A kind and gentle heart he had,
To comfort friends and foes;
The naked every day he clad,
When he put on his clothes.

And in that town a dog was found,
As many dogs there be,
Both mongrel, puppy, whelp and hound,
And curs of low degree.

This dog and man at first were friends;
But when a pique began,
The dog, to gain some private ends,
Went mad and bit the man.

Around from all the neighbouring streets
The wondering neighbours ran,
And swore the dog had lost his wits,
To bite so good a man.

The wound it seemed both sore and sad
To every Christian eye;
And while they swore the dog was mad,
They swore the man would die.

But soon a wonder came to light,
That showed the rogues they lied:
The man recovered of the bite,
The dog it was that died.

– Oliver Goldsmith

The story:

Snake dies after biting priest.
Indo-Asian News Service
Ranchi, July 11, 2005

A snake bites a priest. The snake vomits blood and dies. The priest recovers — it all happened in a Jharkhand village and is being attributed to Lord Shiva’s blessings. The man who was bitten and lived to tell the tale was the priest of the Nag Devta (Snake God) temple in Badapaghar village of Dumka district, 450 km from here. “Lord Shiva’s charisma saved me,” the priest was quoted as saying in local newspapers after he was bitten by a five ft snake in the temple premises. The snake vomited blood and died immediately after biting the priest, who is recuperating in hospital. “Usually a person does not survive if the snake dies or gets killed after biting. The priest has not only survived but is also behaving normally,” said a villager.

For the author's explanation of the tale in context :

Thursday, May 04, 2006


On May 1st last year (2005), a tired young man got down at Bangalore railway station, disgusted with the 4-hour delay of the Hyderabad-Mysore summer special express, and took an auto to Maharaja Hotel, 80 ft. road, Koramangala. Coincidentally, after exactly one year, he celebrated his 1st anniversary (that is, one May 1st, 2006).

And the following are the Minutes of the anniversary celebration jamboree :

Channel: DD-8 Saptagiri

6 PM: Chitramanjari--
songts from the following movies:
1) Lahiri Lahiri Lahirilo (Mohanam)
2) Vivaha Bhojambu
3) Billa Ranga

6:15 PM: Vyavasaayadaarula kaaryakramam--
1) vangalo (brinjal-lo, egg-plant-lo) sasya rakshana:
a)vangalo muvvu, kaaya tholuchu purugu, Dr.V Sasibhushan gave some tips on how to use 'Lingaakarshana buttaas'. Also, Prophenophon and Endosulphon in prescribed doses are good against this pest.
b) vangalo penubanka: Acephate and Dimethoate should go good (of couse in "niyamitha mothadulo").
c) vangalo erranalli nivaraNa

2) Kobbarilo Iriophid nalli: Use Vepa nune, gandhakam mix, also Monochrotophos. (in background, Santoor in raga Bhupali)

3) Jeedimaamidi lo sasya rakshana: discussion on eradicating Kaandam, veru tholiche purugu.

(all in all, very satisfactory, but would have been better if "nathrajani" and "Bhaasvaram" were mentioned atleast for old-timers' sake)

6:30 PM: Vyavasaayadaarula vaarthalu: -- self-made pashu-daNa ("Karrapendalam podi".. intriguing name!)

6:45 PM: Gramadarshini: ( no notes, very sleepy)
Nevertheless, please send your suggestions and feedback to:
c/o Director,
DD Kendram,

7:00 PM GramiNa Bharatam (slept away)

Around 8:30 PM (??) Vaarthalu: woke up just in time for the "detailed weather report" od DD:

city Max(deg. cel.) Min (deg. cel.)
Hyderabad 41.6 25.4
Vishakapattanam 37.0 30.0
Vijayawada 38.2 27.8
Tirupathi 43.7 29.8

8:30 PM: Byomkesh bakshi (telugu version) -- not bad at all!!!!! (watched while having dinner)

9:15 PM: Maryada Ramanna-- My favorite. Only 15 minutes but ultimate series. Title music-Hamsadhwani.

9:30 PM: Practised Bhagya suktam in rig vedic accent once more. Progress satisfactory. Preparations launched for the next suktam-- Hiranyagarbha suktam.

10:30 PM: selavu.