From the Trivandrum Club

Spirits are known to provoke consumers to enter the arena of spiritual, philosophical and political discussions, often plummeting into arguments. And it is best that is avoided, else the soothing qualities of even the finest of Single Malt will be desecrated.

Three of us, I, A (my b-in-law) and a friend of mine T, got together at the club yesterday evening. Sitting in the air-conditioned bar away from the big screen outside on the lawn which displayed live the IPL match, I and T were as usual engaged in the oft discussed topic that is generally the subject when some of us meet. Because, it is so stupid and funny, that it is a better substitute to any exhaustive subject which would not assist any relaxation. After all it gives a good feel when we think like teenagers and when we know that we are half a century old.

But yesterday the discussion bordered around the elections, the probabilities and possibilities of the candidates in the polls.T, though he has comparable outlook and opinion about things in general, is certainly directed by a conservative mindset .The discussion about the candidate from our assembly constituency was brought up by one of us. And when I and A, preferred the LDF supported independent candidate to win, more because not only is he a better person, but the other resembles a lineage of graft, sleaze, innuendos, corruption, nepotism and money power. Also he has a sickening history of defections. He is the progeny of the notorious  chief minister Kerala had. T was quite upset and disagreeing. He kept repeating that his man was better and he can do things. And if his father was corrupt, he had also brought about developmental changes to the State. He also opined that we must look towards the states like Bihar, Orissa and Gujarat, that have done exceptionally well in areas of change and development. He picked the change that has come about in Modi’s Gujarat as an illustration. I contended that it is foolhardy and criminal to applaud the so called development that Modi is credited with and which he uses deftly to camouflage the parochial agenda he professes and ethnic/religious cleansing that is his plank. We asked him in what way Modi was different from Adolf Hitler, when it came to the head count and systematic decimation of the minorities? And now with the UPA bludgeoned by its own filth there is an ominous possibility that Narendra Modi, as candidate for PM should the BJP win the next general elections. T, insisted that the news purveyed about Modi’s cleansing act and the slaughter in the riots a decade ago was highly exaggerated. Now let me put across that T, is no fanatic Hindu or an activist of the rightwing VHP etc. He was born into a Roman Catholic family and is a regular church goer. A guy you will not dislike, a witty character and he does not gossip or spread canard about the other. In fact he avoids such situation where someone approaches him with malice or gossip.

Coming back to the support for the candidate from our constituency in Trivandrum, T was rather peeved about our points, but would not let go or admit. He understood that his statements did not carry much and he found our points rather difficult to refute. However it was timidly revealed by him that his parish church had organized a felicitation for this candidate. And the church had issued a diktat, a pastoral letter to the flock that this man must be voted to the Assembly.

I went home wondering why an educated man like T, could not break the shackles imposed from outside and use his faculties to decide on matters such as this. Why get led by a group of Prelates with various agendas and motives. After all it is the very same philosophy that decried the “liberation theology” practised in Latin America, against the US led insular regimes in the last century and it is also the very same imperious outlook that refuse to whole heartedly condemn the atrocities subsequent to the great voyages of Christopher Columbus and Vasco- da- Gama, the Inquisition and the Crusades. And as recent as a year ago this philosophy and thinking ensured that no solace, comfort or benefaction was provided to Professor T.J.Joseph of Newman College, whose limbs were chopped off by a group of well organized thugs driven by Islamic religious fanaticism.

Conceptual acceptance, as it is seen here, is something I find quite difficult to understand as it belittle or ignores reason, thought and decision. On the brighter side, perhaps, it is because opinions are as diverse as it is that there seems to be an enjoyable zest to life! And I guess one cannot shut out oneself to another person, only because he has a different opinion. May be some day the twain shall meet!

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

Sorcery

A few years ago, I and C made a visit to a house of a very near relative. His wife saw us at the door and in her usual pompous style took us in. She announced that we were lucky to have them there in the house because they had to make a last minute change to their programme of journey to Puttaparathi (SaiBaba’s abode).She was in her own description a devotee of the Baba.And she attributes all her money, her collection of gold jewellery to the blessings and will of the man she calls God- “SaiBaba”. But she did not discuss or comment as to why the Baba’s prowess was ineffective when it came to her chronic diabetes and acute hypertension and that she has to constantly pour out as much money she throws after gold and diamonds after her medical bill too.

She informed us that they had to postpone their travel to Puttaparathi because SaiBaba tripped and fell in his bath and was advised rest by his doctors and also had cast on one of his limbs which fractured in the fall.

We were seated in their sprawling living room, when she summoned C into the pooja room. C winked at me to follow her as both of us were getting bored by the lady’s grandiloquent oration of her wealth and of her divine unionism with this sorcerer SaiBaba ,( oh apologise- incarnation of god).She wanted to show us a miracle that the Baba brought to her pooja room that morning. Sitting in Puttaparathi or rather laying in his bed with a fractured limb, he through remote conduct brought “vibhoothi” (sacred ash) into the pooja room in Chennai. She showed us a handful of ash lying at the foot of the huge portrait of the Baba , kept in the pooja room. We, out of ennui and forced politeness nodded to all that she wanted to convince us.

Soon, we left the house after some parting pleasantries to her and her husband. Outside the gate we could not hold back our gleeful laughter at what is called faith, which people like her are obstinate about and are intoxicated with. C in passing said that we ought to have asked the lady why SaiBaba could not fix his fracture with his divine powers while he could bring in the holy ash into the pooja room, and while he has many times over picked out Rolex watches, laddus and Siva lingams from the void.

And, back to the present-since the past few days there has been information in the news papers and TV channels that SaiBaba is critically ill and his vital parameters are not showing great response to medication. Yes what else can one expect while in the late twilight of life and when one is eight seven or so? And to the ardent fans, devotees of this “holy man”, SaiBaba, I do not hesitate to ask, why is the fact of nature and natural laws of mortality slowly tightening the noose around this man? Why is it so if he were God and an incarnate? Why could he not use his miracles and mystical powers to extricate from the laws of Nature? Remember, myth and legend has it that Sree Krishna was transported to heaven in flesh and blood after being stung by the arrow of the hunter. He did not die like ordinary men and leave his physical body. But, why, is SaiBaba bedridden and at the mercy of medicines and doctors to sustain his life a little longer. Could he not use his sorcery that he is famous (infamous) for and extricate himself from the agony of illness, old age and death that will soon happen to him ,like it will to all of us one day?

This post is to throw questions and not to encourage beliefs for the sake of faith, supernatural or superstitions. The label of “apostate” has more sheen than the pseudonym of “gullible”. Hiding behind attributed mirages, calling things inviolable and matters of faith is the easiest way to enact a “Houdini”, a great escape from reality and inconvenient questions, answers and facts. The proverbial tree of apples in the Garden of Eden was a cunning ploy to ensure “man” never questions and is tethered. The ploy seems to be working in various ways, the most effective being “fear”.

The incorrigible ones will argue that the Baba is God because he has established many avenues and foundations of charity and philanthropy. They may pin point the hi-tech and super speciality hospitals where the needy can harbour. The schools and universities in his name, so on and so forth!

But is the tag of mystic, performer of miracles and magic, divine incarnate and a life in the vulgarism of opulence, a necessity to convey the message of love, peace, and caring for the needy? Certainly not  and a humble soul like the late Mother Theresa is a perfect example.

April 2,2011

In the present times in this country when it is starved of “HEROES” and accomplishments that would bring pride, the decimation of the oppositions in the ICC World Cup was savoring and delightful. Individual accomplishments in their own spheres are not many that we can boast about, at least in the times from the not so distant past. The magnificence of a Sachin Tendulkar and the team India, the tenacity of Sania Newal, the never say die spirit of Leander Paes, the rise from nothingness of a P.T.Usha are but a few that comes to mind.The country has to eventually harbour on its individuals who excelled in the arena of sports, when all seem to be lost if not going down the abyss else where, be it politics, public or social life.

                                                                                                                                         

I was cocooned in the air-conditioned comfort of the sprawling ball room of Trivandrum Club with a few friends and our families watching with varying emotions and moods the WC final last Saturday on the huge screen that was specially erected. It brought back memories of that June night in 1983, when a dozen of us got together at a friend's house here in Trivandrum to watch the David vs Goliath finals of the Prudential Cup. Those days only a few house holds had Television sets and in color. Since there were no separate Sports channels then, we had to agonisingly tune into the BBC for the match progression, while Doordarshan enamored itself with the Samachars and News in English. And robbing us off the sensations at Lords!

Tendulkar being scooped by the odd man with odd hair and odd action sent us into almost terminal shock. The gradual but tenacious recouping of the match from then on , the measured but composed frontal assault by the captain M.S.Dhoni and the eventual  dispatch of the cricket ball that saw India lift the World Cup was a befitting end if not shall I hope the beginning of a different India, a India that stutters for resurgence?

However standing along with the rest in that room that day and applauding amidst the vociferous yells of “Bharth Mahan” and “Vande Mataram” took away to some extent, the sheen of the win. It was after all a game, a game for civilised people! The hollers and cries of “Vande Mataram” reminded me of the war cries with the very same catchwords by the kar-sevaks atop the Babari Masjid and the sword wielding arsonists in Gujart.

 Verbal descriptions of cynic, faultfinder, sceptic and much more if any will not be hurting as the unwarranted and wild invocations that was made after the memorable win.

Driving back home through the revelry on the road I felt that at last we have something rightfully worthy to exult and  relish amidst the money laundering and sleaze that this country has come to be known for. And the din of that realization will take a while to settle down or be eclipsed. Until then, “Go India Go…..”!

Commonsense

I tried a few times to be inspired, ha, ha! To be motivated, for creativity and imagination to flow forth like the gushing rapids of the mighty rivers, consigning boulders fallen eons ago from exploding stars and  the land around, into awe. I tried, awaited with curiosity, but in vain! And kip engulfed me at all such instances, mastering my senses and physique pushing me gently into sanguine comfort and gay abandon. To wake up at dawn, an ordinary mortal more conscious of one’s limitation  Nature assigned. I tried for those moments of hallucination that great men of letters and art are alleged to have underwent, triggering their imagination and lay down in words, and visuals that we commoners devour, enjoy, cherish and fantasize.

Absinthe was consumed by Somerset Maugham. Did that help him in his literary exploits? Did the “Moon and six pence” evolve out of the hallucinations Absinthe might trigger? It is alleged that Lewis Carol had his moments of freakish fantasies. And “Alice in Wonderland” was the offshoot of such bouts. I could not find in my brief reading of his biography that he was assisted externally in his fantastic imaginative creations. Eric Clapton’s affairs with Vodka are too fearsome to look into. I wonder if the spirit stimulated him to be creative or if it was intimidating. Nearer home we have had the famous lyricists Vayalar Rama Varma and Kannadasan who it is said had to be enslaved by the spirit to produce creative diamonds, which they did while alive. The late John Abraham was one such who had to be influenced by external stimulants and the late poet Ayappan. Yes indeed the films and the poems that were created by them were too powerful for it to be the bizarre work of intoxicants.

And it happened the inspiration arrived and dawned as realization. Sitting back one night after a few glasses of whiskey, it was vivid, “and the moral of that is—Be what you would seem to be—or, if you’d like it put more simply—never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.” (Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland)

PESTICIDES,FERTILIZERS,PLASTICS, ALCOHOL & airlines

World over governments and countries have understood the importance of sustainable development and the dangers of environmentally retrograde actions. And many countries have started to react positively to environmental depletion. But unfortunately that is not the case in India, be it the various governments that occupy positions both in the states and at the center.

If nuclear power plants  are killers that become infamous through the wide barrage of intense publicity it receives through various mediums, pesticides used in agriculture and farming are certainly silent and slow killers , but devoid of the sheen and the gruesome glamour atomic energy possess...

The foremost responsibility of any government in a democratic political system is the betterment of the populace. But in contrast we have in this country governments and political parties who are intent in destroying the life of its citizens and bequeath gloom for posterity. The greatest misfortune people of India would have is the very governments they elect through suffrage, acting against their interest by lobbying and ensuring free hand for fertlisers and pesticide conglomerates.

Vijay Mallya will find a place of prominence amongst the top five industrialist and billionaires of India. He is a member of the upper house of parliament .Indeed the majority of our parliamentarians are millionaires, felons, rapists, thugs, murderers and convicts. While Vijay Mallya adorns the elite billionaire club of industrialists in the parliament it is also a known and not much spoken matter that he is also the don of industries and commercial ventures that  defraud and rob people off their health, wealth , wellbeing and also make exorbitant margins as profit, thereby.

Vijay Mallaya is the largest manufacturer and seller of alcohol in the world. He is the largest manufacturer and distributor in India and to poor third world countries pesticides as dangerous as Endosulfan.He is also the largest manufacturer of plastics. In fact he is the largest manufacturer and distributor of unsustainable fertilizers and pesticides. And he has the clout to influence and channel government policies and decisions to suit his commercial illusions, and ventures.

The history and evolution of agriculture pesticides has an interesting aspect.

Toxic chemicals were invented and manufactured by both the Allied and Axis forces in the Second World War. They were used at will in ammunitions and shells on the general population and troops of the adversary. Subsequent to the end of the Second World War, the manufacturers of such toxic compounds saw they were to be rendered job less as the use of such poison ceased to exist. In a brainstorming meeting of the manufacturers an idea evolved to use the poisonous chemicals and its variants as agriculture herbicides and pesticides. The powerful group of such people joined forces and marketed the poison as panacea for crop rot. They literally bought various governments and entrenched themselves. And since then, every grain of soil, land and water world over is being slowly rendered infertile and toxic. (Compiled and translated from Mathurbhumi Weekly)

Agent Orange is the code name of one such herbicide and defoliant used by the USA as a part of its herbicidal defoliate progarmme in the Vietnam War. According to the Vietnamese authorities 4.8 million Vietnamese were exposed to Agent Orange, resulting in the death or maiming of 4, 00, 000, and 5, 00,000 children born with birth defects. During a phase of ten year span of the Vietnam War the US military sprayed 8, 00, 00,000 liters of chemical herbicides in Vietnam, Cambodia and the former Laos. The intent was to defoliate the natural forest cover and rural dwellings and eliminating the food cover for the guerillas. This was also aimed at depriving the rural population of life in the country side and forces them to run for cover to the urban areas occupied by the US. Thereby depriving the Vietnamese guerrillas’ chance for base and support. The genesis of the Agent Orange had agricultural research. In the course of a research on the usefulness of a chemical compound in shortening the grain bearing span of Soya, scientist stumbled upon the fact that the chemical can defoliate crops. This was adopted by the US military to concoct a horrendous herbicide.

Imagine the revenue big chemical, fertilizer and pesticide companies will harvest and are continuing to harvest through dumping of toxic pesticides on the farming community and as deadly chemicals inside weaponry. Easier for them because human conflict is unremitting like human blunders and myopia.

                                                              Coffee Maker

And to compliment these endeavors of the business class, the poor mans’, labourers and tillers party the CPI ( Marxist) have made a fascinating inexplicable turn around and  have begun lobbying for genetically modified crops.