Going back to Mythology.

Indian mythology provides many a cure to the problems that face human society. As Aamir khan pinpoints in his programme Sathyameva Jayate drunken driving or drinking in general is on the rise . In the beginning you control the drink and slowly the drink takes over and alcohol rules your life. As I was reading Ashok Bankar's' Ramayan' I read an interesting part where the sudra who ran a somaras joint had a very methodical way of controlling excessive drinking. He served the very best of the somras available in Ayodhya and everyone wanted to get into his' temple 'as Bankar calls it, he welcomed everyone and his only rule was that while leaving the guest would have to aim an arrow at a mark and if he missed he was refused permission to enter again.The clients who visited his joint made sure that they could hit the mark. Bankar states that Dasharatha had asked his minister Sumantra to guide Bharat and Shatrughan to this temple so that they would always be self controlled about drink.
A really interesting solution to the drinking problem.

BRAHMANDA DARSHANA

As I was reading an article on Andal and her devotion to Lord Ranganatha and how she was adamant in her desire to marry him. I tried recalling the idol at Srirangam which I was sure I had visited. Try as I might I could not recall the charismatic face of Ranganatha. This enthused me to plan a trip to Srirangam. When I put forth the idea in school the teachers emphasized that all the three shrines if visited between sunrise and sunset would lead to attainment of moksha.

Thus beagan a plan to visit Aadhi Ranga at Shrirangapatna, Madhya Ranga at Shivanasamudra and Anta Ranga at Srirangam.

Initially many teachers were enthusiastic but later some dropped out on hearing the cost of the trip ,some others felt they were just budding teenagers and the Divine had no place in their lives as yet,while yet others felt the responsibilities towards their family was such that they could

not take time off.Finally it turned out to be a group of nine. We hired a tempo traveler and set out on Saturday morning at 4.45.

We reached the temple at Shrirangapatna and waited for the temple doors to open. As soon as we went in we feasted our eyes on the majestic statue of the lord sleeping on the giant seven headed serpent nagashesha.We were lucky to be amongst the first few to get darshan on that day.

Later we headed out towards the Madhya Ranga which is a temple near the famous hydro electric project at Shivanasamudra.

The Madhya Ranga temple is one of the lesser known temple but the idol of Sri Ranganatha has a divine power of its own captivating the minds of the devotees.We reached there at 10.30 and then had darshan and left Madhya Ranga at 11. We had a good breakfast of Idli and Molhapudi, followed by some fruit and proceeded towards AntaRanga.

On the way we stopped at Salem and had a sumptuous meal and proceeded towards Moksha at Srirangam.

There was a big crowd at Srirangam and we decided to buy tickets so that we could have darshan faster. Then the darshan took us just 1/2 an hour and we then visited the Andal temple

The idol of Andal at Srirangam.

Lord Ranganatha.

Then we had some food and checked into a hotel and settled our tired bones for the night. Initially we had planned on getting up early and visiting the temple to attend the Vishwa roopa Darshan but were put off when we came to know that only 50 tickets would be sold for it. We then got ready by 6 in the morning and headed out towards the the other temples that we planned to visit. First we visited the river Cauvery at Amma Mantapa.

Then we drove to Thiruvanekavil. Here there is a Shiva Linga bathed by the Cauvery.

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From there we proceeded to the famous Brihadeshwara temple at Tanjavur.

Brihadeeshwara

From Tanjore we hit the road to trichy. As I had some image of the wonderful shopping in trichy near Rockfort.

I dragged the whole entourage to the market of the yesteryears but sad to say the tiny wayside shops had given way to huge shops and there were no trinkets to be bought by the roadside. We quenched our disappointment with some paneer soda and headed to the last temple the Samayapuram mariamman temple on our route back to Bangalore.

We reached home at midnight and hit the bed to gear up for the next day at school.

A Daughter's visit.

Hi, I am sure that many of you with married daughters would agree with the sentiments expressed in this post. I was looking forward to my daughter's visit from the day she booked tickets for their trip to the Andamans. Time passed, sometimes slowly and sometimes in the blink of an eye and the day soon dawned, but as luck would have it I was bang in the middle of conducting the annual examination and could not dream of taking leave. Somehow we wove our sojourns to the shops in my free time and had a good time. It all passed too soon. I had anticipated my son-in-law to arrive with her but he could make it only two days later. It was great fun to spend time with them. I pestered them to come to vidyarthi bhavan for breakfast as I wanted to introduce their special masala dosa to Harshad. Later in the afternoon Adithi pestered Harshad and me to watch an English movie with her and I kept on dozing off only to wake up to shrieks of "Amma". I would try to keep my eyes open but the masala dosa and the warm afternoon forced me to give up the fight against my eyelids shutting down and i went off to have a nice siesta. Though Adithi was home just for a few days still it felt like the old times having her back home with the bonus of a son-in-law. So looking forward to good times

Television
The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rate and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

Roald Dahl

As I was going through projects submitted for evaluation I came upon a lovely poem by Roald Dahl. Very true of the world as we see it today.Thought I'd save it on my blog to let the world know that such poems exist.

Love at Tiger Point, Mahableshwar.

Mahableshwar is a lovely hill station in the Western Ghats. Its proximity to Mumbai and Pune make it a paradise for honeymooners. A quick trip to Mahableshwar, a visit to the numerous points and lousy food which is a strain on the purse is our modern day majnu's and laila's idea of a honeymoon.
The guys walk around in a daze and their wives look like brides run away from the wedding hall with their mehendi laden hands and feet all attired in jeans and fancy tops coupled with the traditional 3 dozen bangles on each hand and a sindoor laden forehead.

En route to Arthur's seat I got tired of walking and sat near a point called tiger's point. Here you will find a spring of cold, refreshing water and every tourist guide who walked past me explained to his group that at night there are four legged animals who drink from the spring but during the day there are two legged ones drinking at the spring.I sort of got bored by the guides repeating the same same story and concentrated on the conversation between the koochikooing couples. A young couple stood at the spring with the husband trying to coax the hygiene- conscious wife to drink from the proffered glass of water. She daintily refused but condescended to wash her face with it. Another couple wanted to pose for a romantic photograph and with the wife giving a thousand instructions as to where the camera should be placed for the perfect picture the husband finally got it right and the photo was clicked.The wife was seated on a rock and after a plea of 'help me down honey' the husband valiantly carried her off the rock. There were couples who spoke every language that India boasts of. A middle aged couple arrived on the scene and the husband told the wife to drink water from the spring as it would give her extra energy to roar like tigress. He also explained that it was useless for him to drink it as it would not help him to be the boss in his house.

At this point I had to get back to the car and the pleasant sojourn into the minds of other fellow humans had to be stopped.

Fascination for the 'Queen's Language'

Indians have been forced slaves to the queen's language since the British East India company conquered India. The freedom movement saw us throw off the yoke of British Imperialism-physically at least.
Mentally we remain slaves. I, for one, can think and write in English with greater ease than in my mother tongue.Our generation was exposed to the spoken language since we grew up in a state that did not teach my mother tongue. Today's generation of parents have taken slavery one step further.
As I travelled to Hyderabad with a young couple and their 4 year old kid the appalling state of our slavery could be seen in the way the couple spoke only in English to the kid. Right! Mr. Technocrat your kid stammers and stutters through English. You want him to 'whine' and 'dine' in English,but I shudder to think of the scene 10years hence.
Now the conversation went as follows:
'Oh! mommy I am bored.'
'Look there is an engine is that Thomas?' (Thomas being the name of some engine in a story book.'
'Can I have some shoup?'
'Not shoup its soup.'
'shoup' went the kid. Mommy started feeding the child some soup.
'Its hot.'
'Is it hot or spicy?' Mommy was quick to put in a lesson on the difference in meaning between the two words.
The parents spoke to each other in Telugu but always in English to the kid. The kid also had a first name, second name and surname pattern which is very alien to us Indians. They probably wanted to jettison the kid straight from the creche to the' land of opportunity.'
I wonder what happens when the peer pressure sets in and the talk becomes 'Hiya Machaan'
'Whathcha doin'
I felt sad that the kid was being cut off from his roots. Can a tree blossom and bloom without roots? Something to ponder about. In another few generations our rich culture and heritage will be lost forever to the world if we stick to English and forget our mother tongue.Indian children being brought up in other parts of the world are taught their mother tongue along with English. My brother and my sis-in-law, who were bringing up their children in the USA made a conscientious effort to speak to their children only in Tamil[being the father's spoken language],
and Bengali[being the mother tongue] and the children automatically learnt English. Hats off to such thinkers who plan well for a problem free tomorrow.
The point to ponder about is whether we are missing the forest while concentrating on the trees.
Let us not deprive our children of their rich heritage and make them, 'Dhobi ka kutta, Na ghar ka na ghat ka.' Learning to speak only English from birth does not make one a Britisher.

Dalhousie-a trip into the hills

The Vaishnodevi pilgrimage was completed and the majority of the party departed to Delhi. My sister Vandana and I stayed back as we wanted to visit some places in the North that we had not seen and were curious to see the places that we had only read about. From Jammu we boarded a bus that took us to Pathankot there we had yummy aloo parothas for breakfast and started inquiring about a bus that would take us to Dalhousie. We were told that there was one only at 11a.m so we decided to take a taxi to Dalhousie. We had a lovely drive up into the hills and later checked into the Hotel Geetanjali that I had booked through the net. Though the hotel was very old and worn out it was comfortable and a huge room which consisted of a dining room, a bedroom and an old British style bathroom. There was no other means of sightseeing so we asked the taxi that had brought us to Dalhousie to take us around. The taxi took us to a place called Khajjar which is also known as Mini Switzerland it was a beautiful meadow surrounded by pine trees. It was a picturesque place. We lazed around in the meadow, had lunch and started our return journey to Dalhousie. The natural beauty fo the place was breathtaking but the other places like saatdhara etc. were a waste of time. Then it was time for what women do best-shopping we got off at the Mall and window shopped at the Tibetan market . Then we drove to the hotel watched some T.V and crept into bed after a few painkillers as our limbs were still aching after the arduous Vaishnodevi trek. Next morning we drove back to Pathankot and got a bus to Amritsar.