SUNDARAMS MEET SUNDERAMS

One benefit I have derived as a member of the group is to have befriended a few members by email or telephone. One such call culminated into a personal meeting between the two families, since both are based in Phoenix – and, for record, from neighbouring villages back in Palghat.

Responding to one of my ramblings in the forum, Mr Sunderam emailed me that he also studied in the same school, but that he couldn’t place me. He gave me his phone number, and requested for mine. I rang him up. In another half an hour I found a Lexus SUV trying to park in front of my house. Yes Mr and Mrs Sunderam dropped in for a ‘short’ chat that, much to the liking of both, lasted 90 minutes. It would have prolonged, but they had to pick up their d-i-l from office as she was all set for a mother-to-be, and had permission to leave for home before the rush hour.

My wife and I couldn’t wait for the customary two or three days’ gap to return their visit. We were at their doorstep the very next day. The discussions revolved around performing their d-i-l’s Seemantham, finding a suitable purohit and a well-versed team to recite Rudram, Chamakam, Purushasooktam, etc. Equally, they were anxious to locate a reliable caterer. Scores of caterers were available, but they all specialized in North Indian dishes, but not many who could prepare authentic South Indian food for the occasion. They sought our help on both. We were no better than them. It was one blind leading the other.

But, at the function on the 29^th, we found the Purohit, in his late-20s having done his Adhyayanam from Sringeri Pathashala, and perfect in his intonation and diction. And the Japam group? Well, it consisted of equally young Ph.Ds, MS engineers employed in Intel, Honeywell, IBM; and boys pursuing higher studies in Biochemistry, Aerospace engineering, and what have you. They should make their parents feel proud of them, I thought.

How did the Sunderams go about for the caterer? Well, the whole family tasted lunch or dinner at a few Indian restaurants in the city. Fortunately they landed on one who was chef at ITDC Kochi. His preparations for the function were good. After making room for an extra ladle of Pal Ada Pradaman, I requested the Sunderams to convey my compliments to the caterer, more so for the excellent Rava Kesari, Pulikkachhal, and the Puliodarai. The Sunderams had a hearty laugh. “My wife prepared just these three items,” announced an excited Sunderam. Now they insist that we plan our visit to India in July to attend their grandson’s Upanayanam in Coimbatore. Man proposes, God disposes.

At my house too it was a family re-union - sans the religious function. My Bay Area son and family have driven all the way from San Jose to Phoenix for the Christmas/New Year vacation. My Phoenix son had drawn a schedule to get the best out of the time together – day-long trips, food and games centres for children, family portrait session with the studio, eating out at Indian, Thai, Mexican, and other restaurants. However, the Sunderams made a special request to bring my sons and their families for the function. Reason? We both have one son in Bay Area and one in Phoenix. They should ideally meet one another. At parental level we both wanted the relationship to be carried forward to the next level. Fortunately the children exchanged email IDs, and contact details to stay in touch. Now it is their call.

Yes, the catchy ad of high-end watchmakers, Patek Philippe of Geneva, comes to my mind: “You never actually own a Patek Philippe. You merely take care of it for the next generation.”

V.V. Sundaram

http://vvsundaram.blogspot.com/

31 December 2011

CATCH'EM YOUNG ON HINDUISM

The Indian community in America deserves full compliments for the way they preserve the India’s cultural, social, spiritual and religious heritage. For two months a year, my friend’s house in Phoenix is an open house for musicians and artists visiting from India. A retired official in New Jersey has just completed a weekly discourse on Bhagawatham, through the teleconference network at a fairly convenient time from the East coast to the West. On public demand, he is giving a discourse on Narayaneeyam. In Cupertino, my niece and her husband are fully committed to carrying forward the Art of Living activities, outside their official commitments.

We have a senior scientist, Mr Krishnamurthy, (Krish to his friends) who wears many caps. A Tamil by birth, he is neck-deep into Kannadiga Sangha activities in Phoenix. He conducts a weekly Kannada class in the ‘Udupi’ temple. Instead of looking for some relaxing moments on Sunday mornings, he channels them to teach children of 4 to 8 years the basic tenets of Hinduism, and helps them recite and understand the meanings of several slokas.

He holds annually a ‘jeopardy’ dividing at random his students into two groups. He allows them to select a team leader as well as a name to the team. I had the pleasure of attending it today. I understand it is conducted on the lines of the popular Jeopardy programme in the American channels. I am yet to view one though. But I was more than happy watching Krish conduct one. It was both gripping and engrossing. Twenty-five questions spread across five categories, each carrying five questions, fetching scores of 100, 200, 300, 400 and 500. On one’s turn the team selects a question from the different score category. If that team is not able to answer the question it is passed on to the other team.

Now a peep into a few questions for the 4 to 8 age group. What is the Sanskrit word for Ant Hill. It starts with the letter V. The team answered it Valmiki, but Krish clarified that it was Valmika, and the person who got covered with ant-hill during his long penance and got named thus is Valmiki. So he gave them 250 marks instead of 300. What is another name for Parvati, which starts with the letter ‘A’. The answer: Agaja. What is the word in Sanskrit starting with ‘A’ for face or head? Anana. What are the words, both starting with the letter ‘A’ for No Disease, and No Infection. This was the solitary question that neither of the teams could answer (nor could I, truth be told). The answers were: Arogatam, and Ajadhyam. In the Avataar category, he asked what is Man-Lion starting with the letter ‘N’ – Narasimha. Whose tool is Axe – Parasurama. What is the Sanskrit word for fingertips – Karagraha, and who occupies the centre of one’s palm – Saraswathy. Well it went on and on, with the difference in score narrowing down just to 100 marks. With all the questions answered, there was the final question fetching 1000 marks. What is the real name of our Hindu religion. It reads: S…………D………… The team leaders were given 30 seconds to write the answer. The team that answered within the allotted time wrote Sanatha Dharma. So they were granted 750 marks, reducing 250 marks since the answer was incomplete. The other team that managed to do it during the extra time, wrote it fully, Sanathana Dharma, and marched ahead of the other team by a slender margin of 50 marks - 4300 and 4250. It was all fun and frolic, everyone enjoying. At no time during the jeopardy could anyone say with certainty which team would make it. So intense was the competition. The parents simultaneously were busy taking snaps and videos of their children in action.

As a gesture, the parents presented Krish with Kindle Fire tablet, e-book reader. He said he was planning to buy one himself, and thanked them. A group photo, and a delicious lunch by Girija Krish followed. We understand she politely declined the potluck offer made by children’s parents. She wanted to have the pleasure all for herself, for hosting the lunch.

The parents with a full belly and more inclined for a reclining pose, were treated at a piano recital by Krish’s son, Sharad, in his twenties. Starting with Christmas carols befitting the season around, he went on to play Hindi, Tamil, Kannada, and English songs, with a finale Bhagyatha Lakshmi Bharamma.

No doubt everyone left his home on a happy note. If only there was one Krish in each city of US for an orientation on Hinduism, the spiritual moorings of Indian-American children are sure to be firmly rooted.

V.V. Sundaram

18 December 2011

LAS VEGAS UNPLUGGED

We prefer convenience to cost. Last time we rented a furnished house, drove our van with children and their families, and had fun. But this time around, when we saw a three-day package to Las Vegas by a tour operator and many members of the Indo-American Cultural Association racing to enroll, our preference took a U turn. We began to see the finer points in a group tour: you meet fresh faces, move with new people, and make many friends. The reasonable fare included transport, accommodation in a five-star hotel, and three complimentary buffet lunches and one dinner. “This is it, and we make it,” my wife and I said and jumped on the bandwagon. We roped in our friends Marathi and Kannada couples, also. Apart from the six of us, the Indian contingent consisted of 21 more, all from Gujarat fraternity.

The game plan of the sponsors for such a low-cost offer is this. The Casinos are located on the ground floor of the skyscraper hotel. You are there for three days, and have to pass through the casino for coffee, breakfast, lunch, shopping – everything. So they expect you to try your hands at the slots on a modest scale to begin with. But with so many Indians in the group and their mental makeup we were sure this trip would be a loss, and the organizers would write it off to ‘Indian influx.’

Out in the open from the gambling den in Vegas, a fantastic world with marvels of modern architecture awaits you - hotel Bellagio, their registration lounge (in itself a feast for the eyes), their exhilarating fountain-show, Caesar’s Palace, The Venetian, The Treasure Island, and the evening shows at the Fremont Square, renovated at a cost of $ 30 million to add extra pixels in order to improve sharpness of images. The Christmas festive decoration was a bonus. A penguin in its snow-covered home peeping out alternately from its main door and the rooftop, the life-like Santa Claus ever ready to oblige, the huge artificial bells hanging as though all set to chime, and the Christmas trees with gifts carefully hidden here and there, all made us feel we have recovered value for our money.

Many in the group were tried and tested hands. One lady makes it a few times annually. An Indian-American doctor in Chicago is invited annually with all expenses paid. He carries $ 50,000/ to play around.

Exchanging day’s score, one enterprising Gujarati said on day One, “Well, I have lost just $40/, and I have a ceiling of $200/-, so I still have $160 for the next two days.” Another joined the group coming all the way from Idaho.

In our sub-group, my wife was game, and so was the Kannada lady. The Marathi lady was fifty-fifty. Among gents, I was not interested; the Kannadiga swore he wouldn’t play, and the Marathi was noncommittal. Thus my wife and the Kannada lady made a beginning, with the pendulum swinging in favour and against. Wednesday, is not a lucky day for me, announced my wife after a while as a ploy to get me to play. I did, and the first dollar got me $ 3.25. I went and cashed my first ever easy-money in life. Then I tried another dollar. It fetched me $ 3.05. I cashed it. The End I said, and gave the money to my wife, to play if she wanted. I reckon our net gain at $3.

The Kannada couple meanwhile was found missing. There at a corner my friend was glued to the machine, busy playing – yes the one who swore. At the end of the trip, their loss was around $10.

The Marathi couple entered the arena backed by experience. Their son and d-i-l were in Las Vegas a few days earlier and had earned $150/-. They went for a full blast till the figure touched zero. So the parents decided they would exit on high, which they did. They gained $5.

Not satisfied at individual performance, some of our Gujarati friends pooled money together, and went for a final unified assault before boarding the bus to Phoenix. They pulled the handle vigorously taking turns, some silently praying their favourite God, but luck evaded them. Die-hards, they shouted jointly, “doesn’t matter, there is always a next time,” which there is. The next bus leaves on 27 December, and we learn it is getting full. Wonder how many have re-booked.

There is no such thing as free lunch, it turned out, disproving our prediction of loss to sponsors.

V.V. Sundaram

12 December 2011