Fourteen Commandments

I stumbled across elsewhere these fascinating mantras for a successful marriage. It was also mentioned that break up of wedlock is on the increase. The article I read also stated that these mantras, dictums, call it whatever are a nostrum. I got a jitter and looked back the past twenty and three years with C. Goodness me if we ( I and C ) do not ensure that we remember to zealously abide these mantras in daily life we might soon end up in the opposite sides of the world. It is a miraculous wonder how we in spite of not holding on to all  these fourteen commandments  managed without bruises so long.

Now let me share these panaceas with all devout husbands and wives. Lest you fail to abide and fall apart. So  folks all of you wedded guys and ladies out there better print these mantras, and affix them at all strategic places in your home. So that even if you folks unfortunately forget them they stare at you to remind you of their importance.

1. Communicate-not just about your feelings,but about your day. Discuss regular day today occurrences. Share stories with one another about what is going on at work or in a friend's life. It keeps you in tune with your spouse on a daily basis  - Umm we are not too far here to begin with. Not too bad !

2. Take showers together - Honestly it has been a long time. Wonder if I must remind C of this flip flop! How stupid we were to not do things that might reinforce our marriage, and not send it the Hollywood way!

3. Go to the park and swing, slide or just play - Wonder what Ara and Radhu would say about us sliding on the board in the park. And most of all we have to find a park then a sliding board and a swing. I will be busy this week end!

4. Take walks ,morning walks are a great way to start your day.Allows Quality time together - Haven’t tried it yet. Impertinent couple we are!

5. Date nights - We are dating through the day. Wonder if that will be an overdose if we add on at night !

6. Play video games or wrestle - We shout at Radhu and Ara for their periodic obsession with video games. Now how can we explain to them us indulging ? And wrestling goodness me! Not with C in her present frame!

7. Have sex even if you don't want to - non-consensual sex, even if between spouses can be punished under the law. Well this is getting a bit too far!

8. Hold hands - We did that around the mandapam on the wedding day . And then I remember doing it in the car that night driving down from Ootty ,and I sent the car off road and into a trench some ten feet deep.. What a way to ensure a lasting wedlock!!

9. Give praise - We are matter of fact- very unfortunately!

10.Be thankful - That is fine. At last something not too bad isn’t it?

11. Have time apart- Familiarity and proximity breeds’ contempt? Well not yet mercifully ha ha!

12. Don't always nag - Well I do not agree because C cannot live without. Now what shall we do ?

13. Share advice-you never know when great, unexpected advice can come about – Good ,I guess ,because we do.

 14. Pick and choose your battles,Learn that life is short and arguments are lame - Well what is life without arguments?

Morning Musings

“Nothing is more unjust, however common, than to charge with hypocrisy him that expresses zeal for those virtues which he neglects to practice; since he may be sincerely convinced of the advantages of conquering his passions, without having yet obtained the victory, as a man may be confident of the advantages of a voyage, or a journey, without having courage or industry to undertake it, and may honestly recommend to others, those attempts which he neglects himself.”(Samuel Johnson)

In many discussions in person or in Blogs, the subject of practising virtue, conscientious conduct has been sworn upon. We have deprecated the contrary virtues. Decried hypocrisy, sworn on morality and ethics .Lamented at the state of affairs of the society and the country at large. It s indeed a bad bad world out there we have cried!

We have severely admonished the fanatism coexisting with faiths. Wondered how man can be cruel as they are to other living things. Promiscuity and immoral conduct has been castigated. Corruption by the Suresh Kalmadi’s has been ridiculed and deplored with severity. Honesty has been voted as the urge that drive us. Avarice and lust for ostentatious life has been frowned upon and seen as qualities that can be done away with. Patriotic fervour bordering jingoism brings together people on every 15 th of August.

We have expressed outrage and sounded indignant of all that is bad out there. Why are people hypocrites? Why can’t we be honest, virtuous, ethical and practise those qualities rather than preach- we have asked in anguish. These have been the general summation and ask.

The inner question is how many of us will show mental prudence and strength of character in a situation where the demand for the antonym of hypocrisy is fervently asked and needed?

Is it not that decadence set deep in each of us in varied ways? And it is only that we trumpet to the contrary?

To Dogs and their Human Companions

Sitting brooding yesterday, I happened to read some poetry.Not a regular habit though! And this pick posted here is one which I feel has no peer,amongst the many lyrics and poetry written on Dogs.This wonderful piece by   Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto is special . I guess opinions may not differ much. A Dog has died My dog has died. I buried him in the garden next to a rusted old machine. Some day I'll join him right there, but now he's gone with his shaggy coat, his bad manners and his cold nose, and I, the materialist, who never believed in any promised heaven in the sky for any human being, I believe in a heaven I'll never enter. Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom where my dog waits for my arrival waving his fan-like tail in friendship. Ai, I'll not speak of sadness here on earth, of having lost a companion who was never servile. His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine withholding its authority, was the friendship of a star, aloof, with no more intimacy than was called for, with no exaggerations: he never climbed all over my clothes filling me full of his hair or his mange, he never rubbed up against my knee like other dogs obsessed with sex. No, my dog used to gaze at me, paying me the attention I need, the attention required to make a vain person like me understand that, being a dog, he was wasting time, but, with those eyes so much purer than mine, he'd keep on gazing at me with a look that reserved for me alone all his sweet and shaggy life, always near me, never troubling me, and asking nothing. Ai, how many times have I envied his tail as we walked together on the shores of the sea in the lonely winter of Isla Negra where the wintering birds filled the sky and my hairy dog was jumping about full of the voltage of the sea's movement: my wandering dog, sniffing away with his golden tail held high, face to face with the ocean's spray. Joyful, joyful, joyful, as only dogs know how to be happy with only the autonomy of their shameless spirit. There are no good-byes for my dog who has died, and we don't now and never did lie to each other. So now he's gone and I buried him, and  that's all there is to it.                                      Pablo Neruda

Self Portrait Sunday 10 th Oct 2010

I have been seated by my Lap top since sometime. I had the TV on with the cricket test match, but soon I switched it off. And now after quite a few minutes, is fiddling with the key board. Nothing seems to be coming forward in mind in a coherent manner so that I could put down.

Getting late this morning and after a dash to the fish mongers from whom I bought a kilo of mackerels, I m now seated by the computer. The morning dosas were good. Food has always been, except during the dreary period of viral fever a few weeks ago.

 C has gone out and here I m alone!

I went through the Blogs, and shot off a few comments. But still I cannot stumble into something to put down in words. The mind is either void, or in suspended animation. It is sine die! Know not!

Perhaps it may be incorrect to say that nothing comes into the mind. In fact is it not that mind is too full, weighed with matters?

Mood swings? I was discussing the topic with C and a few other friends.”Well that state of mind happens to women at the threshold of menopause”, was the   vox populii, and laughter ensued. I forced myself to join the jest.

I m now looking out through the window, I cannot see the path way to the gate as there is a bend in the path way down, and now the trees are grown with luxurious foliage, eclipsing the way farther. It struck a chord, seemed to be frighteningly similar, the way forward seems to be incomprehensible.

Now it is almost mid day and nigh impossible to gaze at the stars and dream of the way forward through the undergrowth, the thick dark foliage, through the unknown, the strange and incomprehensible, and into the lands beyond. The later part that life now is,cannot be inhibiting.It should not be a factor to weigh down. And dream one must,the stars would soon be out to lead the way...!

Morbidity

When the mind is morbid, thoughts that are pleasant seldom occur

The wonder that things around are,are seldom seen.

In fact the wonder that things around are,

were placed for us –

to untangle from the embrace of  morbidity of the mind!

Isn't it so?

Kannadasan

The irony and contradictions of life  as noted many times over in  his powerful verses,
The late Tamil lyricist and poet Kannadasan
 Here is one which is quite thought provoking,

( I note this in the traditional Roman letters as this computer dose not help in typing it in Tamil)


"Buddhi ulla manitharellam vetri kanpethille,
Vettri petta manitharellam budhishali allai".

Unique India

So eventually it turned out to be a damp squib, the security beefing and the judgement of the Allahabad High court itself. The anticipated, violence, acrimony, and all the fun and anarchy only India can provide and enact to perfection did not take off. The Gods were unkind it just did not materialise.

But we have few other fascinating facets over the week that can be relished. The Allahabad High court has pronounced a judgement that takes back society to the medieval times, when it was believed that the earth was flat and the sun and stars went round our planet.Our learned legal minds have ensured that a matter of pure legal dispute over the title to a piece of land can been decided by the predominance of faith, theology , belief and myth. Not reason or historical evidence. Archaic in every sense! History has been given a burial. Historical evidence has been superseded by matter of faith. The dispute has been settled like a family court award.

Now our children can rewrite their history lessons. A Hindu mythical god Ram (Raman or Rama) now has been provided a stature and historical sanctity like that has been rightfully given to historical figures like Christ, The Prophet Muhammad, Buddha, or Confuscious.The court has decreed that Ram was born under the dome of the demolished mosque in Ayodhya. They have not specified the year, whether it is in the pre-Christian era or later. The Christian church at least endorses the view that the World was created in BC 4657, they only have to specify which month, week and date.

Such kind of travesty can happen only in India. Where pure belief, faith and obsession with myth can write or rewrite history. Only time can tell, if many of us will have to go back to school and re learn and read the contemporary version of history. Where a Napoleon or a Karl Marx may be myth and the pantheon of Gods would be historical reality.We Indians will have a unique distinction, and it is that, after the Zionists it is we who have deftly used  myth and legend to create legal title and right over a piece of land.

Now that the fascinating judgement has been given out, we can only hope and wish that the archaic Common wealth games will provide further thmasha and fun and can be the icing on the Indian cake.

Mirage

I had a dream and, I saw it was a mirage!

I woke up and saw the sunlight and wondered if that was a mirage too.

I walked out and saw the mirage and wondered if that was real.

So I came back in and slid into slumber,

And thence I saw, all that I saw was mirage,
 but yet I refused to accept they were so.

Oh what a fool am I ?

Literary Friends

The late Professor M. Krishnan Nair was perhaps one of those few people whose erudition had no bounds. And of the living, Justice Krishna Iyer is one such.

The profound knowledge and dexterity over language that was/is special to these two cannot be confined into some words.

Professor Krishnan Nair was familiar to all those who would zealously devour his literary reviews and critiques that used to come out every week. I was amazed by the intensity with which he used to read and dissect literary creations, no holds barred. Can a man read with such profligacy? I wondered. So did many. And Professor Krishnan Nair did! A very familiar demure figure on MG Road Thiruvannathapuram, and at the D.C and Current Books , until he became confined to bed and faded away.

There were rude, unkind, tongue in cheek, vulgar comments and opinion that the professor based his reviews on synopsis of the books he critiqued. He did not read as he claimed. And he was a false,haughty literary reviewer and so on. Professor Krishnan Nair ignored these comments,sometimes rubbish has to be dealt as such and left in the confines of the bin.

It is furore and false pride that make these people claim to be scholars in reading a J. Krishnamurthy, a James Joyce, an Osho,  an Albert Camus, a Khalil Gibran and so on.The first name basis with which they refer to these literary giants seems to be funny,impolite and shocking. “Well have you read JK”, will be the intone. And honestly with the very cursory reading I have had of Krishnamurthy it would be embarrassing and unease to comment. As I move on, the glance of derision will follow me. Also I found Krishnamurthy’s video and audio lectures discernible than his books.So, though I have a few books in collection haven't read much.

The pretensions and nature of people who claim to the legacy of thinkers like J. Krishnamurthy was glaringly revealed when I went to a school run by the Krishnamurthy foundation. Just to put forth my point- spirituality if exists in us need not be ostentatiously exhibited or reminded to the world, If true spiritual nature exists in us it tells in the glow of the mind. A well read person has an aura, a halo that can be seen when you are near him. It tells in his gaze, his words. And that is vivid to all. What happened in that school, be it teachers or parents was kind of contrived dazed speech and elevated walking around. They seemed to have the air of zombies. Was Krishnamurthy one such? I felt rubbished.

Then there are people who quote extensively from the classical writers.They may not have read the work, but they capture the catchy parts to flaunt their erudition . It is amazing how they manage to retain awesome memory. And quotes are brought forth during appropriate and inappropriate occasions. They are desperate to convey the message that they are scholars who alone can comment on the literary giants, and great thinkers, men of philosophy and political sciences from whom they think they have bequeathed their philosophy.

 I met this guy who was from Kerala, who also claimed to be an MBA graduate. His English had a deliberate accent - but was pure mallu- english and he seemed to be in desperate mood to convey that he was erudite and a walking encyclopaedia. He claimed to have read poetry. I forced myself and  listened to his monologue. The only poetry he seemed to recite verbatim was “Kunnjunni kavithakal”. What he did not realise was that camouflage is an art that has also to be supplemented by an act as well. To act you need substance, dressing up and attire alone may not help. He began talking about the books he read. He said he was a voracious reader. And he has devoured most of the English writers .I enquired if he liked the books of Graham Green and P.G.Woodehouse. He brushed my question aside and said that he has read world classics; I asked him if he would suggest a few. He said he has read “Hunchback of Notterdam”. I felt like someone slap me in the face. I hurriedly bade him and moved on.

The shallowness of their self can be easily discerned if we care to be in conversation with them for a while. James Joyce, JK ,and the lot would run away in embarrassment.It is apparent that a person has not read a sentence of Hemingway if he is a person who dislikes the wild, and is an armchair explorer.

But why do people fake? What gratuitous pleasure will one achieve if one falsely claim to have read a book of repute? The lie will be seen as soon as the person begins the conversation. Because even if it is rubbish that we have read the dust that catches our persona is there to stay through the life. That is, what I see as the power of literary creation -the power of words, the power of the pen.It is the same with a Enid Blyton,a James Hadley Chase, a Kant, a Neruda,a T. Padmanabhan , a SKP or a Marquez.
Any dispute?

"Justitia"

A month or so ago bloggers flooded the sites with mutual  and reciprocal wishes and accolades on the Independence Day. Back patting, self congratulatory words, jingoistic slogans and so on  flooded the sites. "Mere Bhartah mahan” , so claimed many blogs. Suddenly many of us woke up to believe that we are a proud ,civilised nation and a free democracy.

Today when one switch on any news channel on TV the world’s largest democracy seems to be at war, Preparations are on for a possible war. Security is being beefed up all over the country. Secular credentials of the masses and the country seem to be threatened and security personnel have been deployed at places of worship, and many public monuments.The reason, the free democracy that we are may be grotesquely awakened or jolted by a judgement that a court of law will pronounce in a day. That is the extent and depth of our respect for the judicial process and law of the land. And we still claim to democratic and secular values. Bull shit! Can we be more hypocritical than this?

When we cannot accept the due process of law to which we turned to conclude a dispute what right do we have to claim that we are free? That we are democratic? We are secular? We are civilised nation that respects the law?

Perhaps Winston Churchill though brutal in his observations ,about our credentials was right , that we Indians cannot manage our affairs in a civilised conduct but are meant to be ruled over.

If...

If life followed us, stead of us follow life
and ebb with the tide?

Cease longing and craving for things that are afar.

If we can be happy when dispossessed cause we never owned them to begin with?

Would then ,life be happier than now?

The Word ?

It is in human nature to ignore and wish away what that we feel is not convenient to us, our beliefs and perceived well being. We are well adept in closing our eyes to the many possibilities that life throws up. Our conditioning has much to do with this. Since we are taught to be subservient and comply with the system. Not to ask inconvenient questions. What attracted me to Hollger Kersten’s book “Jesus Lived in India” ,published by Penguin was the audacity of inquisitiveness, a profane trait as seen by many. C has now begun reading the book. The good thing about her, she is not shackled by icons and fear of malediction. I bought the book after seeing it with a woman who claims to be a devout catholic. I was certain that when she told me that she read the book it was a monolithic lie. Because people of her genre are a frightened lot, they cannot but wear blinkers.

Many European travellers to Kashmir have recorded the possibility- of Jesus living in India.
Suppression of truth, search for knowledge and light has always been practised down history. And the author of this book quotes ample conjectures that points to culpability of not only the Church but also of the apostles some of whom may have allegedly misrepresented facts in narrating the life crucifiction and resurrection of Jesus. 

According to the Old Testament Moses led the Jews from Egypt to the Promised Land, (which they usurped from the Palestinians to become later the modern day Israel). But according to the evidence bared by  Hollger Kersten this Promised Land was not Palestine but the valley of Kashmir.The first set of evidence is that several locales mentioned in the Old Testament carry strong similarities in name and description to places in and near the Kashmir valley. Secondly the native Kashmiri people bear strong resemblances to Jews in physical characteristics. Thirdly the customs of Kashmir is having fascinating similarities to those of the Jews. The book has to be read to understand how a group settled in Kashmir.

Then come the galvanizing parts of Kersten’s disclosures- Jesus spent much of his teen and youth in a Monastery in India, studying Buddhism. He then went back to the Middle East where he preached all the knowledge and wisdom he gathered in the orient. The conjecture cannot be shooed away, because after being born and reared in a faith (Judaism) which literally embraces the dictum, “an eye of an eye, and tooth for a tooth”, Jesus was known to have preached compassion, forgiveness and repentance, traits clearly alien to his people but ascribed to the oriental religion of Buddhism. If not for the influence of alien faith and religion, from where and how did he imbibe these laudable principles and wisdom? Another vital point that the self proclaimed biblical historians could not explain was the whereabouts of Christ from his adolescence to the very late twenties. It is known from the bible and other historical documents that Christ was seen back in Palestine in his thirtieth year.

 Last but not the least, Jesus survived the Crucifixion, not just in Spirit but also in body and then returned to India and continued to spread his message. He finally died in Kashmir in ripe old age.  His tomb exists in Kashmir still. "In the middle of Srinagar's old town stands the building known as 'Roza Bal',which is constructed over the burial place of 'Yuz Azaf',who  the evidence strongly suggest is none other than Jesus". The harrowing period of the crucifiction ,the fascinating rescue and medical care ,escape to safety of the east along with his Essene  disciples are all  well explained with proof and evidence.

While Kersten acknowledges that many Christians may accuse him of fleecing Christianity of its core message that Christ died on the cross to salvage humanity by bearing on him our sins, the author argues that this was not the factual message that came from Christ but from the apostles who gave us their interpretations of Christ’s life and preaching. Jesus on the other hand, preached love, tolerance and harmony! His life in itself conveys that central message. It was Paul who made out Jesus died on the cross to bring salvation to mankind.

Kersten opines that if a DNA test could be conducted on the shroud of Turin that is believed to have been used to drape the body of Christ (later scientifically proved to be hoax) and on the remains in the tomb a conclusive proof for his claims can be found, but that may seldom happen in our times.Kersten argues that the scientific testing on the authenticity of the shroud was questionable.

Through out the book, the  author based his theory on facts, legends, the scriptures including Koran and lot of historical postulations and evidence. When one carefully note the volume of evidence and historical materials that are described and laid bare in the book, these theories cannot be rubbished as that of an apostate.

This book  may be blasphemous for many but for the inquiring  the book is a treat and of much history and why not’s..

This also reminds of a work of fiction by Irving Wallace ’The Word’, where the officialdom moves mountains to stop the revelation of a Bible long lost and found.


The faithful might brand the book iconoclastic perversion, but only that they speaketh with eyes closed.
 

An Excerpt

In a little known letter Albert Einstein wrote, “Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind”. His famous aphorism has been a source of endless debate between believers and non- believers wanting to claim the greatest scientist of the 20 th century as their own.

This little known letter written by him may help to settle the argument –or at least provide further fuel to his views. However the document leaves no doubt that the theoretical physicist was no supporter of religious beliefs, which he regarded as “childish superstitions”.

Einstein penned the letter on January 3 1954to philosopher Eric Gutkind.

In the letter he states that, “The word god is for me nothing more than an expression and product of human weakness, the Bible collection of honorable, but still primitive legends which are nevertheless pretty childish. No interpretation no matter how subtle can (for me) change this”.Einstine who was Jewish and who declined an offer to be the state of Israel’s second president also rejected the idea that the Jews are God’s favoured people.

“For me the Jewish religion like all other is an incarnation of the most childish superstitions. And the Jewish people to whom I gladly belong and with whose mentality I have deep affinity have no different quality for me than other human groups. I cannot see anything chosen about them”.

The letter is a handwritten piece; in German.Einstines thoughts on religion have long attracted conjecture.

His parents were not religious but he attended a Catholic primary school and at the same time received private tuition in Judaism. This prompted what he later called, his "religious paradise of youth", during which he observed religious rules such as not eating pork. This did not last long though and by 12 he was questioning the truth of many biblical stories.

"The consequence was a positively fanatic [orgy of] freethinking coupled with the impression that youth is being deceived by the state through lies; it was a crushing impression," he later wrote.

In his later years he referred to a "cosmic religious feeling" that permeated and sustained his scientific work. In 1954, a year before his death, he spoke of wishing to "experience the universe as a single cosmic whole". He was also fond of using religious flourishes, in 1926 declaring that "He [God] does not throw dice" when referring to randomness thrown up by quantum theory.

His position on God has been widely misrepresented by people on both sides of the atheism/religion divide but he always resisted easy stereotyping on the subject.

Like other great scientists he does not fit the boxes in which popular polemicists like to pigeonhole him, It is clear for example that he had respect for the religious values enshrined within Judaic and Christian traditions ... but what he understood by religion was something far more subtle than what is usually meant by the word in popular discussion.

Despite his categorical rejection of conventional religion, Einstein became angry when his views were appropriated by evangelists for atheism. He was offended by their lack of humility and once wrote. "The eternal mystery of the world is its comprehensibility."

Adapted source -The Guardian

Star Dust

Star dust that we are, insignificant specks.

Insignificant -

in schemes wondrous, that nature has ruled.

For the sun to rise, set and rise again;

for the earth to turn around, for the moon to shine;

for the stars to twinkle, for the clouds to sail;

for the rains to drop, and for the earth to quench!

The rainbow to regal;

and the birds to chirp, in ecstasy and freedom.

for the beasts of the jungle and the little ones of the woods;

and all that small and beautiful!

For the streams to flow into rapids and beyond;

the oceans to churn and for the  fishes too!

for seasons to part, flowers to bloom;

for the trees ,and the mountains that outlived.

Where do we in the scheme of things stand?

Yet, to know what we are, look yonder to the skies,

by night ,and  at the stars up above, wonder

and be aware, star dust we are and insignificant too.

Meaning of Life

What is the meaning of human life, or of organic life altogether? To answer this question at all implies a religion. Is there any sense then, you ask, in putting it? I answer, the man who regards his own life and that of his fellow creatures as meaningless is not merely unfortunate but almost disqualified for life". (Albert Einstein)

This excerpt is a letter written by Einstein in response to a 19-year-old Rutger's University student, who had written to Einstein of his despair at seeing no visible purpose to life and no help from religion. In responding to this poignant cry for help, Einstein offered no easy solace, and this very fact must have heartened the student and lightened the lonely burden of his doubts.

Here is Einstein's response. 

I was impressed by the earnestness of your struggle to find a purpose for the life of the individual and of mankind as a whole. In my opinion there can be no reasonable answer if the question is put this way.

If we speak of the purpose and goal of an action we mean simply the question: which kind of desire should we fulfill by the action or its consequences or which undesired consequences should be prevented? We can, of course, also speak in a clear way of the goal of an action from the standpoint of a community to which the individual belongs. In such cases the goal of the action has also to do at least indirectly with fulfillment of desires of the individuals which constitute a society.

If you ask for the purpose or goal of society as a whole or of an individual taken as a whole the question loses its meaning. This is, of course, even more so if you ask the purpose or meaning of nature in general. For in those cases it seems quite arbitrary if not unreasonable to assume somebody whose desires are connected with the happenings.

Nevertheless we all feel that it is indeed very reasonable and important to ask ourselves how we should try to conduct our lives. The answer is, in my opinion: satisfaction of the desires and needs of all, as far as this can be achieved, and achievement of harmony and beauty in the human relationships. This presupposes a good deal of conscious thought and of self-education.

It is undeniable that the enlightened Greeks and the old Oriental sages had achieved a higher level in this all-important field than what is alive in our schools and universities.

The Sample Five

I have five personalities from different  faiths.
I found it quite interesting to look into the possibility and likely hood of these people having a free passage through the golden gates of Heaven.Two are deceased and  we may not hold any doubt as to where one would be now.

Benny Hinn is an example of his kind who have virtually hijacked all faiths and religions.Thriving on the wrecked lives of people and the gullible .

Benny Hinn was born in  1952, in the then newly established state of Israel.

Took to evangelism, and reportedly earns revenue in excess of USD 250 million a year. He,Hinn is known for his  extravagant life style. He claims to have anointing, special power given by God to heal the sick. Watch dog groups have alleged that his healing acts are contrived and participated by volunteers. Hidden cameras placed at his healing ministries have found deep set and well orchestrated false and fake practises. Hinn exhorts people to donate to his ministry and be saved from all debts by the Lord.

Facts on Benny revealed by NBC:-- Hinn's salary is somewhere around a million dollars per year.
 he has a $10 million seaside mansion,.
 he owns a private jet with annual operating costs of about $1.5 million. and he drives a Mercedes SUV and convertible, valued at about $100,000 each. (Source Watchdog).

Benny Hinn Ministries supports  quite a few missions of charity around the world.

Mother Teresa - needs know encomium or  help from any amicus curiae

Nelosn Mnadela the living symbol of conscience.

The current bearer of St Peter's legacy. One of the richest person in the world.Ornamentally dressed and ostentatious- in total contrast with the shepherd he swears by.
Zealously labours in spreading the "Word" around the world .
Is awkwardly placed in his relationship with other faiths.

The White Sahibs of Great Britain called him "the willy politician and the half naked fakir.

Albert Einstine quoted in his eulogy ,"generations to come will scarce believe that such a one as this in flesh and blood walked upon this earth".
All that he possessed while he was shot dead was ,a pair of leather footwear, a metal rimmed spectacles,a fountain pen ,a pocket watch , a wooden walking stick, a manual spinning wheel, besides the home spun cotton fabric he draped around his body.

Sleeping with the Monsoon

I was pretty tired and must have fallen into the tranquil comfort of sleep well before midnight. I was alone in that house in Cochin. My friend Sree and family left for Coiambatore leaving me in charge of the regularly unkempt house and the big Great Dane, Motti. Various matters as usual tired me, by late evening ,and the sleep was a welcome visitor.

 I do not know when it began but I woke up at the sound of the music- drum beat and jingle of the rain. It was pouring and in torrents. I lie in bed and saw through the curtains on the window, the monsoon- by night- at its zestful best in Kerala. And I began enjoying its goodness after many years. Living in Tamilnad for the last twenty odd years had its deprivation. An incessant torrential downpour was one. The monsoon does not visit my part of Tamilnad as it does the total of Kerala.

Through the curtains, I could see the heavy rain drops by the hazy light on the street. They were slanted and nearly twisted by the wind. I lay there in bed in all the comfort and peace that only dreams could give. I travelled back years to relive certain days and nights as such during height of monsoon. There were nights when I used to lie cuddled under the sheet listening to the torrent outside and wishing that it pours and pours through day break and school could be done away with. Myriad stories from the times when I was little, the lore connected with rain and rainy days that I picked from the oldies then, went through my mind. It was browbeating rain outside. I seemed to hear every drop of the wonder out there.

I thought of the years that went by. And now into the later part of life, the sound of the rain still holds amazing sway over the mind. Like ones mother, Nature has her many ways to fan you and sooth, the music of rain was one such way. It was a lullaby from up above.

I thought of the book that I read long ago written by Alexander Frater, “Chasing the Monsoon”. It became a highly noted BBC film too. The book documented Fraters journey from Kovalam off Thiruvananthapuram with the arrival of the monsoon clouds. His visit to the men at the observatory in Thiruvannathapuram, and their crude ways of predicting the monsoon; his travel by boat from Quilon and following the downpour right through Kerala , into Goa and beyond till the north east.

I had the sudden urge to get out of the bed and walk in the rain. But the comfort and cosiness of the bed, the thin sheet spread over my torso, the cool pleasant air ,the flapping of the curtains at the persistent gentle howl of the wind, and the music outside touched me much that amongst the thoughts I fell back into sleep- I slept that night with “the monsoon”.

'Fraility'

I searched for goodness

But it never was.

Perhaps sublimed and in the shadow, I reckoned

And  I searched.in vain.

Ruth and empathy, I searched about

But it never was.

Little pearls of Godliness,that endure in all

I sought, but it never was.

The smile, the words, quenching they seemed

So, yet, I searched again

And of no avail.

Scintilla of hidden goodness

That might be in us all

I searched in depth and with hope

But it never was.

Lament I did,'pray, I be wrong’.

I wailed, falter did I, in search?

But I saw,nay it was not so;

Because, ‘Frailty’ was her name!

"Satanic Verses"

Why do we bark up the wrong tree?

Matha, Pitha, Guru, Deivm, is the wisest dictum that has been taught in our culture and that has been passed down the ages. And makes commonsense too! In my thinking it would be irrational to prefer a force that is putative, over persons in flesh and blood- one’s biological parents!

However, the cultural excellence apart, how do we see things, in what order, and in what line of importance? Every one irrespective of their religious leanings except for some satanic manifestations like me, (Satan, though religious, is yet a persona non grata in all faiths), get excited and show frenzied state of mind when the names of their Gods are invoked, be it in good taste or otherwise. Man has put God on a pedestal higher than his parents. The result, man has forgotten to be of allegiance to his God, and also he has ceased to respect and care for his parents. The sorry state is that one tolerates irreverence to ones parents, but presumes any comment that is uncommon as blaspheming his God, and indulges in violent retribution.Man has less love and regard for his parents, but has fathomless loves for his God, so he claims.

I have seen and felt quite a few examples over the past many years, where  parents are trampled and God revered.

I have felt revulsion and utter dislike for certain people who with impudence devoid of conscience throw out their aged parents. One gentleman I was acquainted with, (wonder if the adjective or noun, whatever the grammatical formulation, can be attributed to the fellow’s conduct), dismiss his aged parents from his scheme of things. He took them from his home where they were, and ungratefully threw them to fend in a small house in some remote village. This guy I understand conducts yearly pilgrimage to see his God in Sabarimala!

Yet another group of people I know have profanely used their pliable parents to further their covetous life. They thrived on the misery and financial constraints of their parents. The parents had to acquiesce mutely, because their financial capability was limited,and money was flowing in for the necessities and wants of living... Though I wish the surviving parent has saved remorse in her that may see her at peace in later life.

I have seen the total commitment, duty and devotion of a son to his mother stricken, and deteriorate with serious senile dementia.

And I have also known a son who was more concerned about the financial goodness of the business he inherited from his father than spent adequately on medical care for the old man, bedridden and sinking.

When I was little, I was immensely impressed and fascinated whenever   I saw my father supplicate at his mother’s feet and express obeisance before he set off on any journey. I can recall that, not only he, his brothers as well did the same.

But in the age that we live, interpersonal relationships evolving out of wedlock have also acted against the qualities of affection, love, devotion and gratitude one owes to ones parents. Old age homes are a new mantra and a venture for commercial exploitation. They have now become the distant out post where one can cast away ones aged and inconvenient parents.

And then one may join the beeline to  a Sabarimal,a  Vellankanni, or any other abode of the Gods.

In Third Person

To tell a story in third person has its convincing charm. If the narration is in the first person it becomes more often a soliloquy and would also raise question marks about the veracity of the explanations. It may also give way to the feeling that it was concocted. If, when the story is in third person, the narrator tells what is known to him and there will be interregnums when and where the story teller seems to have not much clue about how the plot went. Then it is up to the reader to infer. This is where the art of storytelling comes to play.

Such a fascinating writer was Somerset Maugham! He excelled in narrating in the third person. And the one that stands out in my opinion, amongst his works of excellence, is “The Razors Edge”, (later a Hollywood movie of the same name, made twice in 1946 and again in 1984 starring Bill Murray). The movie was not even a distant shadow of the novel. In fact, this was the literary creation of Maugham that initiated me into his fan club. And I must acknowledge that was one of the good that came about after I got to know and befriend Balan.

I do brood over this subject of describing a story (fiction or otherwise) in third person. It, besides creating an inquisitiveness and involvement in the reader also helps the writer from not being accused of blatancy. Because, describing the fact of the matter is always disapproved and considered blasphemous and insolent.

There are a plethora of subjects around that can be spoken about and commented. But a firsthand account may be alleged odious, covetous and, or fabricated.In many instance facts are stranger and starker than fiction.

Alone at Dawn

At dawn I sat down by the pond, and saw the wonder-

Of the nimbleness of the Sunbird glide down the mallow

Down with the dew drops and back to begin again.

The Mynas pick little may-flies that squirmed by the pond

The Munias fly by and feed the nestlings, nestled on the branch near

The warblers warble in haste to the silver oaks yonder,

The fish splash in the pond, amongst the lilies salmon and pink.

And the Toad, croak beneath the waterleaf, before it slumbers at the break of day.

I walked down the way, and saw the owls perched atop

The crow pheasant annoyed ,move into the bush as my steps near

While the Peacocks flutter in chorus, to stay away.

 I saw the sun in its amber glow; gently spread its aurora.

And the crimson clouds give way to the, brightness

 of another day.

I saw the Geckos scamper away at the alight of the day.

The birds of the sky fly by in union; the dragon- flies descend and dance a ballet.

A cuckoo sang from a distant tree.

I turned aside and saw my dog walk by my side, look longingly at me and say, ‘aye’!

Then I wondered- man, misfit in such a day?  I saw for sure the answer was, 'ye'.