Elders Rock Again

Sunday, 22 September, the day chosen by an organization in Coimbatore to chant pan India One Crore Vishnu namas – for the 15th year.

Hari and Geetha (3192) organized this last year. They were fully geared to repeat it this year, but had to call it off as one of their relatives was taken ill and they had to rush to hometown. Man proposes, God disposes, or, daane daane pe khane walle ka naam. Yes, the honour presented itself to me. Everything is preordained. Not taking credit. Just that Hari’s loss (inevitable) was my gain.

Regardless of the short notice, members of SFV’s Vedic Chant group were equal to the occasion. Seven couples came forward not only to attend but to bring prasadam – Pongal (chutney to go with), puliogare, side dishes (aloo curry, raita, potato chips), jaggery-dipped banana chips, jackfruit chips, chakkara Pongal, appam, curd rice, puli inchi, cut-mango, amla achar, and Andhra spicy mango pickles… So much so, in retrospect one wondered whether it was a case of prasadam for function, or function for prasadam. Anyway, occasional indulgence is permitted, if only it is done with the solemn oath, ‘just this time’ - each time.

The event was not without some snippets.  There was a wild-card entry. The husband came first and said his wife would join soon but asked us to start. She hurried just in time for the second avarthi, with a container full of lemon rice, an unscheduled but welcome prasadam. Another member had to leave after first avarthi lest the domestic help got away with the excuse, ‘locked’. Thus, for counting, the chanting of these two constituted one (2 avarthis by one and 1 avarthi by the other). Yes, we didn’t want any nama-japam to go uncounted.

In another case (just to emphasize the enthusiasm), one friend had recently undergone a surgical intervention. He couldn’t sit for three hours. So, he did it in absentia. He arranged with a participant to give him a miss-call each time a new avarthi began, for him to get started too. Yes, we did 3 avarthis, and we were 17, ranging from 91 years to 57 (not to ignore my 22-year old tall, handsome new neighbour - to take photos and video).  Thus, we were supposed to have chanted 51 000 Vishnu namas (17 x 3 x 1000) for a target of 1,00,00,000. Yes, boond boond se sagar.

With male and female chanting together, modulation, tempo, pitch, could all pose a threat. No, it was a smooth flow. Earlier, the participants were treated with a welcome drink, hot Badam milk. After the first avarthi, hot coffee, and after the third, lukewarm water. But many preferred to skip it, some to do full justice to the plateful on the way, others as they didn’t feel thirsty.

After the chant, it was aarathi, where the ladies sang with supreme confidence and gusto the song that they did for Narayaneeyam, Devi Mahatmyam meets, where the names of almost all Gods figure in.  

Time for prasadam distribution. Each lady was keen to take charge of the dish she had brought, but that would mean equal number of ladies catering to an equal number of gents. So better sense prevailed. Only a select few organized filling and distribution of plates, while Carnatic songs rendered separately by Revathi Balasubramaniam and Kaleeswaran filled the vacuum.

As participants bid adieu, some quipped: “When do we meet again mama for a similar occasion?’; “how about a one-day trip; long-time no travel, sir?”. Yet another said, “Now we know whom to insist on to bring what for such a picnic. The only caution to exercise is to order for not a 21-seater but a sleeper coach, to succumb to the sedative effects such heavy doses bring along.” 

Prasadams turned to be a problem of plenty. It was lunch time. Everyone took back his/her leftover and distributed on way home to the security staff, the gardening staff and housemaids who all felt more than happy.

Yes, one good deed a day. And we fulfilled Sunday’s quota. Lokah samastha sukhino bhavanatu.

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Bhajana Ghoshti Enthrals – Rekindles Memories

SFV stalwarts do it once again. This time they have organized a two-day Sita Rama Kalyanam in Club House starting today. Kudos. 

The well-known artists include Sri Mukund Bhagavathar and Mohan Bhagavatar from Delhi’s ‘OS’ family; Sri Sriram Natesan Bhagavathar and Bangalore’s own known names, and of course, SFV’s Asthana Vidwan, Ravichandran of Alder. 

It was a pleasure after a while to listen to sampradaya bhajan. Each one on the dais proved an accomplished artist – be it the vocalists, the mridangist or the harmonium player. Their captivating performance from 9 am to 9 pm elevated the mood of SFVians beyond measure. 

Bhajan has been a part and parcel of our religion. In fact, the path prescribed in Bhakti yoga is chanting, Chanting, and CHANTING. And, today’s rendering by an ensemble of learned bhagavatars was really enthralling. Blessed were the SFVians who could be part of it.

Prasadam was a sort of pot luck – distributing whatever the devotees had brought  – sweets, lemon rice, puliyogare, payasam, curd rice…It was more like enjoying a meal at a picnic. A refreshing change.

The afternoon session was marked by an accredited artist from Hyderabad dancing to the hymns on various Gods. Simply fantastic. Wondered how he was able to do it for four hours. In the case of vocalists they could at least take turns. Here he had to perform solo. Kudos.

Any such performing event can only be as successful as the interest evinced by the audience.  Given this yardstick, I would give it 9 out of 10. Yes, I didn’t find the menfolk dancing to the various rhythmic beats. Kudos to the ladies. They took the cake. Their kolaattam (stick dance) to the Radhey Govinda song won them accolades. 

On hindsight, to be fair the menfolk, they were busy managing the crowd, providing extra chairs, and making routes for people to come and go…So, that balances out.

The organizers had planned everything to a T. For the afternoon session, depending on what hymn was being sung, SFV children dressed as Lord Rama, Sita, Lakshmana, Hanuman, Krishna, or Shiva-Parvathy, entered the ‘stage’. Consequently, it was cameras clicking all the way. Children always look the best – no doubt about it.

A 9 am to 9 pm singing – of course by turn – and having to perform tomorrow also is no doubt a tall order. But they are professionals and are accustomed. God save their vocal cord. Alas, Aunty and I will miss tomorrow’s event here – sammandhi’s gruhapravesam ceremony. Thank you organizers, nonetheless

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In a lighter vein, this took me to my village days. We had a Bhajana Matam where we performed bhajan every Ekadasi. Very often there were no sponsors for prasadam. One resident ran a shop - bananas, betal leaves, nuts, biscuits… The understanding was he would bring 6 bananas on such occasions, and we in turn would allow him to be the lead singer for six songs – though not known for maintaining taal. But beggars cannot be choosers. At the start of the bhajan there would be 8 to 10 people. But we will continue with the session till the number reduced to 6 so that we could enjoy one full banana each.. On one occasion an elderly person attended in the hope the banana could prove a laxative next morning. He went out for a while. We thought he had gone home and hurried with Mangalam song and were eating the banana when he showed up. “You silly boys,’ he began yelling the next five minutes and swore to complain to the President of the Village.

In another instance, the famous bhajan singer Murugadas was to give performance in Kalpathy, Palakkad. People from nearby villages thronged to hear him.  But he did not turn up till 9 pm. People began to leave. The organizers announced that the local bhajan group would perform instead, just for 15 minutes and then distribute prasadam. This group was not known to possess the best of vocal cords. Exodus continued. One enterprising chap from the organizers saved the situation: “I learn there will be five types of prasadam. And this time it is from the house of Kavasseri Parameswaran mama.”  Mama was known to offer the best of prasadams and liberally. People rushed back to their seats. Five minutes later deeparadhana and prasadam distribution were done with no discontentment on either side.

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Catch Me if you can, Challenges Intruder Rat

One of my 20th floor residents reported in Telegram last week that he had detected a rat in his house. “Thank God, not on my 19th floor,” I heaved a sigh of relief. That statement, be it manasa, vaacha or karmana, was just not acceptable. And I paid the price. 

The rat probably heard me and promptly relocated himself or deputed one of his siblings to make 3195 his home. So here I am handling an uninvited guest, much to the neglect of an eagerly awaited visit of my own daughter-in-law. She stopped over from US coincidentally just for those very three days. Her boutique, shopping and other visits went haywire as she had to give a helping hand with Operation Rat. She and aunty with brooms raised, and I with stick with half power already released were ready to pounce on the invader – a la a predator and a prey in Animal Kingdom channel.

It was evening.  A co-resident visited us to say hello to my d-i-l with a packet of Calicut halwa.  The chat was warming up, and to make it warmer, Mami walked up to the kitchen to make some tea/coffee only to rush back. “Oh, there is a big rat speeding past underneath the sofa,” she shouted and ordered me to open the front door to let it escape. No, it had resolved to stay back and, instead, made an about-turn to hide below the covered kitchen sink area. 

The visiting lady rushed to the lift with Sunita to Ratnadeep to buy Mortein-cake meant to catch the rat. Hari and Geetha just then stepped out of the lift. Hearing this, they rushed to our flat to help us. Hari brought a torch-light and started peeping through places to spot it. They seemed experienced. “Yes, we have dealt with several of them successfully in MS Palya and Jaya Nagar,” Geetha patted herself on her back. Hearing the commotion our recently-shifted neighbour, Raghushankar and wife Rajani, rushed in. They reaffirmed their services, as soon as we spot the rat - day or night. “Just give a gentle blow with the broomstick, it will go unconscious,” he said and began explaining the scientific reasons, for which I could hardly lend my ears.

With no luck in sight till the next morning, we called the pest control guy. Simultaneously we ordered for a ‘same day delivery’ mouse trap. Meanwhile we bought some gum-boards meant to attract rodents and get stuck. We kept some bread crumps on them, additionally. Next morning the crumps were missing, and so was the rat. It just left its footprints to express its gratitude for the dinner. 

The next night also it visited, without getting caught. But a never-say-die, we persisted with our efforts, this time reinforced with rat-trap. Also, in the customary prayer before going to bed, Mami made a special request to Lord Ganesha, “Oh Lord, please persuade your Mooshika Vahanam, to get into the rat-trap. We swear we will not harm him, but will leave him safe way beyond Turahalli forest, sure of greener pastures. With our frugal food habits, 3195 may not be the supreme abode for him to spend the rest of his life.” The prayer was answered.  

It was just 4 am. But we could no longer wait till the day broke. We made our way slowly to the kitchen and were the happiest couple in the world to see the rat trying to hide himself within the cage. Had we been a little younger, we would have jumped with joy. Not any longer. With extra care we shifted the trap from kitchen to the balcony where we kept it for public view (read: neighbours’ view) till 8 am this morning.

At 8 on the dot,  in a Red Wine Grand I-10 car, 2013 model, escorted by two gents and two ladies with only a military band not in attendance, began the farewell journey in slow motion to bid him adieu at Turahalli, hopefully for ever. 

The last minute fright. As we released him pointing to the forest, he turned towards us instead as though to jump back into the car. Probably not, but just to say thank you. 

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Case of the Missing Brass Tharpana-Vattai

The Yajur Upakarma 2024 was on the cards.  Viswanathan (3161), ably assisted by Usha, was toying with the idea of repeating last year’s feat - of helping interested residents perform a mass pithru tarpanam as opposed to individually at home. 

Murali (6173), fondly called the Man Friday by our Seniors’ Group, had in fact mooted earlier the idea to Viswanathan. With him giving the green signal, it was all set. Murali made a phone call, and Pandit-ji was arranged. “Anything else?” Murali asked, always helpful. 

Now the venue for the Khanda Rishi tarpanam. Back in the village, it would be performed on the banks of a river or on the footsteps of the village pond. Here the head count would be around 15 with their bags full - pancha patram, uddarani, til, rice, one small chombu for water, betalnut leaves, supari, banana, Dakshina, floor mat, and token prasadam made at home. It would be a house full show in anyone’s drawing room with everyone squeezing, in a spirit of swalpa adjust madi. Yes, the Viswanathans were only happy to host it. Usha insisted that all should have at least a sip of coffee. Everyone had come after breakfast. Still they couldn’t say no. 

Arriving a little late, Panditji clarified that at the previous place some members reported late for the session. Once settled down, he lost no time in distributing poonal, darbhai, etc. He did a good job of reciting the mantras for us to repeat. The chanting session was good except on two counts. One, some members chose to begin the chant even before Pandit-ji had finished the last word. The other, Pandit-ji would begin his next mantra even before the group had uttered in full the earlier one. Consequently we (or, just I?) missed the first word of each mantra. It is devotion that matters, I consoled myself – to cover my lapse.

Some ladies who had accompanied their spouses promptly abandoned their little assistance at the kitchen and rushed to the drawing room to videograph the event, guess - focusing more on their own family.

The propitiation of ancestors over, each one got busy collecting one’s own items. There was some confusion with all vessels, tumblers, jumbled together. “Is this yours, sir”? “No, not mine,” replied the other. “Then it must be mine,” he felt reassured and put it in his bag. Then there was another who held an item high in his hand and announced: “Whose is this anyway,” he asked. The owner hesitated a while to claim. It was not in the best of shape; apparently he didn’t want it to be displayed in full view, as though it was being auctioned.

Everyone felt happy at the arrangements and thanked the Viswanathans profusely - and Murali, in passing. Not all knew that he had arranged the priest. Murali didn’t mind. He is committed to Karmanneva  adhikaraste...

Last Monday was Amavasai. A hectic day for me – morning walk, Amavasai tarpanam, and attend Slokam class at 11 am. When settling down for tarpanam I found my brass tarpana-vattai missing. All the three members present (our domestic help was at work then) swung into action. No luck. Time was running out. Good at make-do, my wife gave me a stainless similar vessel though many argue that only brass vessel should be used. Occasional deviation is excusable, I consoled myself.

The hunting mission starts for the Tarpana-vattai. I rang up Viswanathan if he had any items of the Yajur Upakarma left unclaimed in his house. “No, but what exactly are you looking for,” he came straight to the point. I explained to him. He consoled me that one member had since returned Viswanathan’s stainless steel glass, not just it, but filled with tasty pudding. It got mixed up someone else’s bag.  “Maybe, something better is in store for you,” he reassured me. Meanwhile in his own inimitable way he set in motion Operation Tarpana-vattai.

One member had just dumped his bag in the attic to be used next year. His relative visiting him had also joined. His set of vessels were also in the bag. Upon getting the query he had it checked; sent a photo of one patram to ascertain if it was ours. It was. He promptly brought it home with a few apples along. We had coffee together and he left after a brief chat.