From the Trivandrum Club

Spirits often provoke lively debates on spiritual, philosophical, or political matters, but these can spiral into arguments. It’s best to tread lightly, lest the soothing qualities of even the finest single malt be lost to discord.

Yesterday evening, three of us—my brother-in-law A, my friend T, and I—gathered at the club. We sat in the air-conditioned bar, away from the IPL match blaring on the big screen outside. T and I, as usual, dove into a familiar, lighthearted topic—one we revisit for its absurdity and humor, far more relaxing than weighty subjects. It’s refreshing to banter like teenagers, even when we’re well past fifty.

But the conversation soon turned to the upcoming elections and the candidates in our Trivandrum constituency. A and I favored the LDF-supported independent candidate, not just for his character but because his rival represents a legacy of graft, sleaze, corruption, nepotism, and money power. This opponent, notorious for political defections, is the son of a former Kerala chief minister whose tenure was marred by scandal. T, however, was visibly upset, staunchly defending his candidate. He argued that the man could deliver results and that, despite his father’s corruption, he had driven developmental changes in the state. T pointed to states like Bihar, Odisha, and Gujarat as examples of progress, singling out Narendra Modi’s Gujarat for its transformation. I countered that it’s reckless to praise Modi’s so-called development, which masks a parochial agenda and the ethnic and religious cleansing tied to his leadership. We challenged T: how is Modi different from Adolf Hitler when it comes to the systematic targeting of minorities? With the UPA weakened by its own scandals, the ominous prospect of Modi as a potential prime minister looms if the BJP wins the next general election. T insisted the reports of Modi’s role in the riots a decade ago were exaggerated. To clarify, T is no Hindu fanatic or VHP activist; he’s a Roman Catholic, a regular churchgoer, witty, likable, and someone who avoids gossip or malice.

Returning to our constituency’s candidate, T grew peeved but wouldn’t concede. He struggled to counter our points, eventually admitting, somewhat sheepishly, that his parish church had organized a felicitation for this candidate. A pastoral letter had instructed the congregation to vote for him. I left wondering why an educated man like T couldn’t break free from external pressures and think independently. Why let prelates with their own agendas dictate choices? This same church hierarchy once condemned Latin America’s “liberation theology” for challenging U.S.-backed regimes in the last century. It also failed to unequivocally denounce the atrocities following the voyages of Christopher Columbus and Vasco da Gama, the Inquisition, or the Crusades. More recently, it offered no solace to Professor T.J. Joseph of Newman College, whose limbs were brutally severed by Islamic extremists a year ago.

This blind acceptance perplexes me—it dismisses reason and independent thought. Yet, perhaps the diversity of opinions adds zest to life. I can’t shut out someone like T just for holding a different view. Maybe, someday, our perspectives will align.

Zen & the Art of Motor-cycle Maintenance.

Coming back to the city where I was born and lived the initial twenty and one years of my life and being here now for almost four months on the trot, I decided to look back into the initial days of my life here in Thiruvananthapuram. Since leaving this city in 1982, I have not lived here for more than a few days on the trot. Any trips back to this city have been for brief time  lasting at the most three days. Consequently, though I did notice the change that has been happening here, to the roads and lanes, to the trees and the once prolific population of birds, the cleanliness that was vivid, the once sparse traffic , the classic architecture, buildings with history ,atmosphere , life and beauty and most of all the people who dwell here.

I rewound back to those years three decades ago and decided to reminisce about the men and women who lived in my neighbourhood, who have walked their life into the sunset. And Doctor Antony’s recent post instantly reminded me about the story of the man who lived may be a hundred meters across my house.

He was an officer of the Constabulary,but known more for his off uniform feats. It must have been in the mid seventies and his “Norton” motor –bike was perhaps the avant-garde in a town which only had the antediluvian “java” , “Lambretta”, a “Rajdoot” and the Royal Enfield Bullet . For some, together with his Norton motor-bike, he was a sex symbol.He was a kind of an iconic figure physically and riding his motor bike, he ensured that he dispersed the air with imperiousness and arrogance. He was the coach of the wrestling aspirants at the gym. I remember him dancing, pulling off his shirt in drunken revelry when the news about Mrs Indira Gandhi’s election defeat came across the official display board at the Central stadium,( that was in 1977).

Now, he was a fantastic swimmer too. And he used to volunteer and pick young boys and supposedly took them in his tutelage, be it on the wrestling mat or in the swimming pool. He had this preference for young boys who were into their teens or in their adolescence.

He did not know me in person, nor did he know that I was living near his house. He might have noticed me at the gym and at the pool. But since I was not keen about wrestling, was not eager for a swimming coach and was comfortable watching him from the distance, I never came to his proximity. He was regular at the swimming pool in the evenings by 6. He used to venture in, in his swim trunks and walk around the fifty meter long pool, bare- chested and like a rogue Elephant conscious of the awe he has created. He enjoyed  exhibiting his naked torso and only with the protective cover of his swim trunk. He ventures into the pool and does a few laps of nonstop free style, breast and back stroke, before floating around in the water observing others in the water. He had this acrobatic way of slicing the water with his palm, sending up a wave of water as from a wide jet stream. It was, I understood his way of stamping his presence. By then, usually the flood lights of the pool would be shut off except for one, sending shadows across most part of the pool.

                                                                                                                

One day we happened to engage in a conversation while we were leaving the pool. And I answered  his queries about my school /college etc.He had come there in his vintage Studebaker car and he offered to give me a hitch –hike to the city center.Though I politely thanked him and tried to move on, he insisted that it was not a problem for him and he also lived near the city center.While we moved on I told him that he could drop me near his house and I lived near by. Anxiously, (I felt), he asked me where near his house I lived. I told him the ancestral name and also told him that I understood that he was the college mate of my maternal uncle. I do not remember much conversation after that.He dropped me where I wanted to be dropped and went on his way. I do not remember him showing any signs of acquaintance or acknowledgement thereafter, whenever and wherever we have met.

Epilogue- My telling him about ancestral house etc was a kind of a defensive tact which in fact ensured that he did not invite me to join his shady idiosyncrasies. Though I have had heard many exploits of his and his enticing young boys for homosexual acts, I was not convinced until I saw myself one evening. It was at the swimming pool and the lights were going off. There were only a few of us in the pool. This boy may be aged fifteen hurriedly swam past me and got out of the pool. I had noticed him quietly being held and putatively coached by our man, in the far corner of the swimming pool.Now,I could see him clearly in the shadow of the lone flood light. While he got out, with a blushed appearance, I saw that his member was erect and he was trying to avoid others seeing the erection through his swim suit. Our gentleman has had homosexual routine with him. When I confided this to another person there, he giggled and said that the  officer was a infamous homophile as well as straight.

A few years down from then, I heard that this man had a cerebral hemorrhage, and died instantly. .

A small Riposte

I love brick bats and derogatory comments against my view points. But if these were enhanced with substantial points and reasoning of the opposite view, the whole process of airing on the Blog would be much thrilling and great. But when one wears blinkers and one is audaciously obstinate to open ones eyes, when one is fearful of the light, well then can we ask for anything better? Faith is not an inviolable or an absolute notion or subject. It better be substantiated, lest it may be classified with superstition and hearsay. And if faith is hurt and offended because of a contrary opinion, see how fragile faith itself is! Though I agree that one has the right to stick to faith

I wish that there were a dozen apostles, god men, alive and who could at the drop of the hat change the world. The miseries, the fear, sufferings, poverty, hunger, diseases, death, wars, destruction, the list wish can grow. If only the Gurus, the Bhagawans, the Saints, the Majis, the Swamis could get together around a table and eradicate and banish once for all, the list of bane I mentioned! Until then it is difficult and impossible to be convinced about the incarnate forms they are, or to be convinced about the sorcery and magic they connive.

The great ones who have passed through this world and some who are still amongst us do not stake claim for greatness, immortality or Godliness. They have not and do not play intrigue and stage tricks on us. They have lived their life in full and have not yearned or craved for physical immortality. But we and generations to come will notice the noble deeds they did without the trappings of pomp, godliness and magic. And certainly they are the Gods we have to bow to.

Now please read interesting comments on my views on the SaiBaba.

To Mr. anil,

There exists thin line between superstition and faith...having said that what is faith to me cud be superstion to some one else..but i beleive what i see..not unverified allegations from closed minded people..all said..whether aged or not, when some one close to you is not well..any one feels bad..in such it is very important to be cautious and to note that we dont disrespect others faith...u say sai baba is fooling others..in my opinion you are fooling people by by writing unverified (which never happening) events..good luck dude..keep writing nonsense..no takers here.. Ganesh

Ganesh, 

I believe that people like Anil has to voice themselves for attention sake!They don't have a view to express, they can only be loud and can only remind us of likes of Rakhi Sawant!

Very simply he could have kept his view and expression of speech to his blog or to his like minded people, but Nah! how can we expect a likes of Rakhi Sawant to not to indulge in the acts of bragging! 

We are people of mental strength, we should completely avoid even replying to such people!! 

Especially when we all here to celebrate the man, the bhagvan and his life, my guru! ( Signature)

Mr. anil..

to question is anybody's right..but to say bad things about someone who has transformed lives of millions of ppl positively is somthing really sad..check out this link to know (a glimpe) of what baba has done to society ..http://bit.ly/ezZc7d

also, can you proudly say if you have changed a 100 ppl's life atleast positively? if not, what credibility we have to talk of somoone who is respected by so many..even if you want to criticize get the facts and proof..dont keep yelling.. 

, too agree with the Swapna. Media has no work other than finding some news and making them sensational by including anything in it. So, i too, request every reader believe what she is saying and do not listen and act on media sayings' blindly.  Ganesh

Mr Anil..

pls look at the faith the person who has written the blog has on Sri Satya Sai..Millions of us feel the same way the blogger feels..i think ppl like Anilkurup need to learn to respect others faith and thats is what secularity is all about...to comment like anil in such a sensitive suituation is the height of sadistic mentality..i studied ther for 7 yrs..Sai baba is the means more to me than my parents..hope sense dwans on you Mr anil..Thxs  Ganesh