Activities Unabated, SFV Thy Name

Don’t take my word for it. Just recap the events and decide for yourself.

With an overwhelming response to its hunt for SFV has Talent, our cultural wing started off with a bang the other day displaying talents of children. The nearly two-hour show was well received. In order that the event didn’t end up all watch and no munch, the organizers had arranged with a vendor for uninterrupted sale of Churmuri. Alas, the vendor displayed the “Sold Out” board sooner than expected. For those who missed it – the talent show I mean - a replay was organized the next day too. 

Not satisfied, the hunt extended, this time to catch them young (read seniors). There was to be an event on 25 Nov. Unfortunately we were away. So can’t guess if it did go through.

Turning a little religious, earlier a detailed chanting session, with Rudram, Chamakam, among other slokas, was conducted under, if I am permitted to say, SFV’s Asthana Purhoit Shri Navin Kashyap, ably assisted by a select few co-chanters, and a large number of attentive listeners. “This would be a good opportunity for me to brush up my memory of these slokas, learnt as an adolescent,” I said and joined them, aided by a book. But I was no match for their catch me if you can speed. Better sense prevailed, and I chose to enjoy more the positive vibes that the reverberating chant pervaded the Hall, than provide a lip-movement that will more be an apology for rendering.

Many of you might have noticed a new member to the SFV family taking rounds in the Joggers park. Like they say in Tamil, Yanai Varum Munne, Mani Osai Varum, (The Sound of its Bell arrives before the Elephant). Similarly yards before Mr Chandrashekar comes (yes that is his name, and he stays in Cedar probably), we could hear slokas resonating from his smartphone. I asked him if it was Upanishad. “Yes, Mundaka Upanishad,” as he went a step further to share the finer points of it. I wondered if he had burnt the midnight oil just the previous night to get all this at his fingertips. Kudos, sir. Muthuraman, of Ebony, the chief aide to Navin Kashyap at the puja-chanting session, joined us. He is very much into spirituality, as I could gauge. The topic during the rounds gradually moved to Advaitha, Vishistaadvaitha, and Dwaitha, the philosophy of life, etc., making me feel I should be the odd man out.

Moving to the mundane world, marriages are in full swing in SFV. Our friends Lakshminarayanan and Prabhakar’s sister who bought an apartment in Maple recently, solemnized her son’s wedding last month. The way she is deeply rooted in SFV so soon, looks like she has no regrets at having left her lavish Jayanagar independent house in favour of this fun-loving community. Welcome, Madam.

Today two more marriages take place. Smt Kalavathi Madaiah & Dr Dundamadaial of Maple 3126 celebrate their second daughter Gomati’s wedding with Dr Sirikishan Shetty in JP Nagar. We learn a convoy of cars had lined up for the Tamarind Tree.

Nandini and Gautam of Oak are off to Secunderabad to perform their son, Subramanya’s wedding with Mrudula, also today. Their kula deivam is Kuke Subramania, and they wanted to seek the blessings of their family deity before the marriage. Luckily Aunty and I were all set for a whirlwind Karnataka-temple tour starting with Kuke Subramania. We took their invitation card, but were skeptical if we could get past in one piece and give it to the pujari. Yes, it was preordained. Despite the rush, the policeman on duty allowed us entry up to the door from where the pujari goes to the sanctum sanctorum. We gave him the card, he looked at it and placed it before the deity with his customary rituals. I prayed for someone else’s happiness and prosperity for the first time, instead of my charter of demands.

If all this activity is less, then what is more?

V V Sundaram

Maple 3195

30 Nov 2017

Beverages, Books, Movies for Convalescence

Sometimes you feel you are better off with a bout of illness here and there. The privileges are many, and without murmur. Coffee, tea, or breakfast, is at your bedside table on time. And, an extra cup of coffee that you hitherto had to muster courage to ask for is supplied without a grumble. Should one ideally fall sick more often, you begin entertaining unwanted thoughts.

It is during such periods that you catch up with things that you had wanted to do for quite some time. First I debated if I should inaugurate some of the novels that I had picked up indiscriminately at the 2013 Annual Library Book Sale in the US, at 20 cents apiece. A little awestruck, my son and d-i-l asked me politely if I really meant to carry them all to India. Yes, I replied, in an unguarded moment.

On our next visit to US, my son promptly gifted me with “Nook”, the e-book reader, right at the airport itself when he received us. What a pre-emptive move. “Got the message,” I reassured him with a side-glance, and he smiled, bringing to an end the acquisition of physical copies.

These books stay untouched by hand since then. Still, on hindsight I feel proud of this well-arranged collection in the bookshelf that I specially had the Interiors design. Happily, more often this display misleads my uninitiated guests into believing they are in a litterateur’s abode.

 Against this backdrop, first I laid my hands on a collection of PG Wodehouse’s “Jeeves the Omnibus”. I managed to get past the first two warm-up pages before I felt the font was too small - not to speak of the pages that have since turned yellow. I put it down, wondered how at this rate I was ever going to get to read Crime and Punishment - a 1964 edition.

No time to brood. I selected one of Stephen King’s, the murder mystery master. While reading the pages, I began to feel literally the stink in my room as the father-son duo delivered a gruesome death blow to the wife/mother whose body they threw in the deep well outside their house, where it lay rotten. To make up the reason for the stink, the father-son covered the well top with a light wooden plank and had their cow mount it only to fall deep in the well. They convinced those in the vicinity that their cow accidentally fell in the well and since it could not be saved, they shot it, and hence the stink. “Not my cup of tea, I said to myself,” and picked the ginger tea instead that Aunty just served me hot.

Why not try movies? After all, I have paid for one of the high-end all-encompassing packages to Tata Sky. It is during this browsing session that I encountered a flash that arrested my attention, “Movies You Must See Before You Die”. That was an interesting challenge. I might as well try it.

The first it was an old movie, Taxi Driver, by Martin Scorsese, the renowned director, featuring Robert De Nero. It was nice to see Robert De Nero in his late twenties – at least that was what he looked like. The movie was okay, but personally I wondered if it could qualify for one of the all-time greats. But then these movie selections are subjective. One man’s meat could be another man’s poison. That said, I liked Robert De Niro’s another one, Man of Stone, where he acts as the legendary trainer of the Panamanian boxer Roberto Duran.

Then I watched Al Pacino’s “Recruit”, although I am not sure it was from the “….before you Die” category. But it was engrossing, with Al Pacino playing a customary powerful role.

By this time, Aunty has lost her patience, and didn’t want it to be ‘my way, all the way”. She selected a movie, “The Confession”, a Netflix presentation featuring Alec Baldwin and Ben Kinsley – a father murdering three hospital staff in a row for the death of his young son caused due to negligence. A gripping movie of psychological warfare between righteousness and legality.

V V Sundaram

Maple 3195

15 Nov 2017

Guruvayoor, Palakkad Visit Recalled

The thought of a train travel is often more enjoyable than the actual journey. Because, sometimes you get a seat near the toilet, sometimes a side berth and your legs inescapably jet out while sleeping, and others get past them at will to disturb your well deserved sleep.

But this time we enjoyed the actual journey till we hit the bed. As the train was about to move, we saw the passenger seated next to us thanking God a little loudly. “Anything special, sir?” I asked him. “No, you know we just saw that man with literally no legs negotiating his way on a wooden plank with castors. I thanked Almighty for not putting me to such an ordeal, though I met with three accidents affecting my right leg. The first time it was a bike accident that hospitalized me for a year, the second time a vehicle that hit ours from behind throwing us off board, and the third time when our vehicle overturned, all in a span of five years. Still I am okay, I just can’t bend my right leg beyond this, he continued, as he demonstrated, and shared how despite these he went ahead with his business venture. Count your blessings.

Whenever we visit temples in Kerala, our main grouse is that we can’t book for Neyyappam prasadam in any temple. Mostly they take booking in the morning, and deliver after 8 in the night. And unfailingly we recheck each time hoping that they might have changed the pattern. No way. This time we were lucky that some benevolent guy from Tamil Nadu has given standing instructions to Guruvayoor temple authorities to prepare at his expense one lakh Neyyappam on a particular day at the end of every month and distribute them to devotees. And the temple authorities would decide on the quantum based on the crowd. This time they distributed to each three Appams. Yes, sincere wishes seldom go unheard.

Consider yourself lucky if while in Kerala you are not caught in a lightning strike. Yes this time it was the turn of all the hotels and shops to stay closed. Earlier it was because a prominent worker of a political party was done to death, and earlier than that it was something else. Fortunately cars and buses were allowed to ply. All we had to do was to buy some food articles the previous evening to last till the next evening. There is always a way out.

As is our wont, we had good darshan at Guruvayoor, with an extra darshan allowed impromptu, just before closure. Will of God.

For the marriage at Palakkad for which we went primarily, I was bestowed the honour to play brother to the bride, and give her a handful of rice-corn three times to be offered to agni for the couple’s eternal happiness and prosperity. According to custom, the hand that gave rice-corn to the bride is rewarded with a gold ring. And I was given cash instead. Didn’t feel justified to accept the windfall, but at the same time couldn’t decline. So quietly I slipped that amount also into the gift envelope that we handed to the girl. The highlight of this however is that I, the bride’s brother, happen to be older than her father. Expect the unexpected.

The different kinds of delicious food offered at each occasion associated with a marriage tempted me to relocate to the village, or at least buy a small place, and spend some months there every year. But the non-peaceful co-existence with the mosquitoes over the night forced me to shelve the project. The grass is greener on the other side.

Guests were treated with fruit juice and lassi at regular intervals during the ceremony. I was not sure if the water they used for this was purified or not, but at the same time didn’t feel like declining. Also earlier, I had to visit temples bare-body. It was drizzling too. All told, I got temperature at night and sore thought. Can’t ascribe which one caused it. All in the game.

A visit to your native place always makes you overjoyed. But you are no less happy to return home. In fact, the countdown begins half way through and, on opening the door of your house, you unwittingly announce, “Home Sweet Home”.

V V Sundaram

Maple 3195

5 Nov 2017