Righting the Past

 

 

Righting the past

Sometime back there was a controversy regarding confederate statues in some states of USA. According to some people, they were erected to commemorate the valor, statesmanship and fighting spirit of historic personalities . They had fought to keep intact the federal structure. That is what they said. Internal civil war happened in USA for preserving the integrity of federal structure and not for preserving slavery.

For many others , particularly Afro Americans, it meant celebration of injustice, cruelty and justification of slavery. It was an affront to many to see the statues in public places and reminding them of their painful past and the bitter irony of perpetrators of cruelty and oppression on a pedestal looking down on them as it were.

The protesters wanted to destroy the statues ; the  moderates wanted  to put the statues inside a museum. There were some who  wanted  to maintain the status quo and said ‘ let history remain as it is ‘ and in some cases did not even agree that those historic personalities were bad. They were also worried that if the logic of removing these symbols gets stretched further , then it could mean many more monuments would be in danger. Some founding fathers of USA were slave owners and that had not bothered their ( founding fathers’ ) conscience at all. What do we do with their statues and monuments ?

From preamble to US constitution :

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence,^{[note 1]} promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America. ;

It was obvious that ‘ ourselves ‘ did not include or was supposed to include slaves.

I try to translate or relocate the ideas to our context in India so that I can  ‘ feel  ‘ the issues better.

Imagine a statue of Gen Dyer overlooking Jalianwala bag.

One could say that there would be unanimity in removing it as it would find no admirers.

So would a bust of say, Churchill, in Raj Marg in New Delhi or in Calcutta.

( Churchill was an evil person in many respects. Look at some of his gems :

‘ I hate Indians .they are a  beastly people with a beastly religion ‘ ;

..he ‘ ought to be chain bound hand and foot at the gates of Delhi, and then trampled on by an enormous elephant with the new Viceroy seated on its back ‘

    ‘ he ‘ being Mahatma Gandhi.

‘ I am strongly in favour of using poison gas against uncivilized tribes ‘… ‘ it will create a lively terror ‘

 Bengal famine of 1942 was man made. A total of 3 million people died. British ruler , whoever it was, in Calcutta had the means to save them. When ships carrying food grains came to Calcutta, Churchill , over riding concerns of local British officials , had them diverted to Europe. When a note came from India for help as thousands were dying , he wrote in the margin  ‘ why hasn’t Gandhi  died  yet ?‘ )

In one poll , British voted Churchill as ‘ greatest Briton ever ‘ ( princess Diana was placed third ! )

Hitler’s statue anywhere would be simply anathema to everyone.

But not Mao, Stalin, Bush , Blair or Laden … I am sure there are many pockets in the world where they have their admirers.

Indira Gandhi’s  statue in Punjab , say in  Amritsar. Same fate, though there could be some protests.

No problems if her statue were in Chickamagaluru.

There is a ‘ stupa ‘ inside the ‘ holy ‘ Golden temple of Amritsar dedicated to ‘ Sant ‘ Binderanvale . In his ‘ glory ‘ days  he had huge arms and militants inside the temple . No one is concerned about it. Let it be.  He is a sant.

There is a memorial in Marina beach for recently convicted and dead Jayalalitha.  We walk by.

Lord Elgin in 1800 got a ‘ firman ‘ from Sultan of Ottoman empire to go to Greece to inspect, study, make sketches , excavate near Parthenon . He abused his permission and dismantled, removed half of Parthenon to England. This included artifacts, statues, doors, panels  ( Sultan cared less ) and this formed the Elgin gallery in British Museum. Greece on becoming free in 1830 started to demand the return of looted treasures . Britain has not agreed. Lord Elgin’s statue is in British Museum and many visitors  look at it with admiration. Greeks treat him as thief and plunderer. (We were in both the places and experienced it first hand ). More to the point , whose history should govern our actions ?

Taliban destroyed statues of Buddha built in 6 th century claiming it offends Islam. Of course there was world wide condemnation. I have no hesitation in condemning such brutal acts. Indians of all shades, left, centre and right were unanimous in this.

Some years earlier a mosque in Ayodhya (Babri Masjid ) was destroyed by a well prepared mob encouraged by many leaders of BJP and RSS. Volunteers came from all parts of India. I remember a PuC student from Hanumanthanagar who went to participate in the great event. Admittedly Babri Masjid is no Buddha Statue in beauty, architecture or historical importance. The point to be noted is that it was destroyed because it reminded some of us of the injustices of the past. The entire hysteria was quickly whipped up by a few committed leaders.

I felt similar emotions in Paris and in outskirts of Moscow. There is a magnificent victory gate in Paris commemorating Napoleon’s conquests.

 

 

In  the outskirts of Moscow, there is a memorial and a fresco depicting the valor and sacrifice of Russians in halting the army of Napoleon and humiliating him.

 

 

 

Again what do we do with such monuments ? Fortunately both countries are separated geographically and can live in their own worlds undisturbed .

When we were in Scotland, our guide talked about Norman invasion.  William the conqueror for others but we call him William the bastard, he said gleefully.

In Peru, our guide lamented the fact that Spanish invasion was so destructive. A few moments later pointing to some artifact he waxed eloquently on how Inca empire was built from one tribe over powering the others and establishing Inca empire covering Peru, Chile and other countries in South America.

 

Strange amalgamations happen. Spain invaded many South American countries in the first decade of 16 th century .The local population lost its power, religion , language and culture. Spanish were brutal. They forcefully converted the locals into Christianity. They also married local women. Over time many in the population were of mixed parentage. The sensitive ones, such as our guide in Peru, felt torn between the father’s side ( Spanish ) and mother’s side ( local ).On one hand they resented the loss of roots, felt subjugated and humiliated and on the other hand they spoke Spanish language , attended Christian churches , listened to greatness of Spain by their fathers and carried features of both sides. ‘ What can I do ? Whom do I resent ? ‘, one exclaimed.

To India the Muslims came in small numbers but settled down. Over time by force, coercion and by people’s opportunism many converted to Islam. They were not ‘ outsiders ‘ . They were our cousins. Now when we , majority Hindus, condemn Muslim invasion, conversions, destruction of temples we almost point towards the present day Muslims and hold them somehow responsible. We want them to repent, disown or condemn. Muslims, often uneducated, not accepted by majority, have only one bond with fellow Muslims  -- that of religion. They do not have any space to own, no culture to talk about, no achievements to feel proud of. Their contribution to literature, music, dance is minimal except when religion plays no role or an insignificant role. Compare  their involvement in Carnatik music vs Hindustani, contribution to literature in Kannada ( small ) vs in Malayalam ( much larger ). Both Hindus , by their exclusiveness and anger at the past  , and Muslims, by their rigidity, foolishness, lack of leadership, overwhelming and pernicious influence of Islam have created a chasm.

 

Dalits have a different problem. Hindus, not only ‘ upper ‘ castes but also other castes have treated Dalits inhumanly for several centuries , perhaps for more than 2000 years. We can find many references in Mahabharata , Manu Dharma Shastra and even in Vedas. We expect Dalits to respect and worship our gods, pray at our temples ( though not allowed inside ) , venerate Sanskrit ( they were not allowed to learn ) and take pride in our culture ( but make sure they don’t hear anyone reciting Vedas ; do not allow even a shadow of a Dalit to fall on a upper caste person ; however, all are equal in the eyes of God in our religion ). But , mind you , no social interactions. Menial jobs are ok. Definitely no marriages between us and them ( ‘ Shiva , ‘ Shiva ‘ ).

Dalits are worse off than Muslims. Dalits have no pride . What can they claim ? No kings, no gods, no musicians, no literary figures, no noble men, no icons and not even glorious myths .  We, non Dalits  , have robbed them of the past , robbed them of history . They have painful memory, full of anger and shame.

A curious thing happens when an infrequent social interaction happens. If a Hindu boy marries a Muslim girl there is resentment. If Hindu has a Muslim mistress it is ok. Same with Dalits. But reverse it and hell breaks out. A Brahmin girl (or for that matter any Hindu ) marrying a Muslim boy or a Dalit boy is unpardonable. At work is our male domination treating women as property . In our texts there are different types of punishment, what one gets in the next birth depending on various permutations and combinations of ‘ mixed ‘ interactions. As Amartya Sent says some where, a poor, Dalit , woman is the worst in India amongst all .

Now if there is a memorial to Manu ( of Manu dharma Shastra ) or Chanakya or for that matter for any Hindu God, Demi god, King or Noble man , one can easily see how and why a sensitive, well informed Dalit   would squirm.

In such situation how do we view symbols of past ?

So, some offends us all, some symbols offend only a section of the people, some symbols are supported by a section and hated by others. What do we do ? Who decides ?

In a democracy one could argue that if majority decide to take action it should be accepted. This sets a dangerous trend of ignoring the rest. For example it is not inconceivable for majority in India ( Hindus in this case ) to decide  ( an evil person can create a mass hysteria ) that all mosques should be brought down. Democracy has meaning only if minorities have rights that are protected. Going further , in local situations , Karnataka can refuse to release water to TN ( majority of Kannada speaking people would support ) , in Haryana majority could decide how women should behave in public etc. What happens to our constitution, our judiciary , our minorities.

There is another issue. When we think of statues, monuments, symbols of the past – leaders, events, myths – how far back should we go ?

One view is that if in ‘ living memory ‘ incidents have happened and principal actors had lived , then it is an  ‘ affront ‘ to put their figures in public or commemorate them by naming things ( gardens, Laboratories, , Universities etc ).

First , does ‘Living memory ‘ stretch to  100 years or 200 years or more ?

one ,two, several generations ?

Muslim rulers destroyed and looted temples and forcefully converted people to Islam , missionaries did it with money ; not all conversions were like that ; It happened 500 or 700 years back with Muslims. What can we do now ?

Dalits abused for two thousand years

 

Next,  what do we do when the past is not clear ?

No one is certain if Rani Padmavati story really happened .

Did Babar actually destroy the temple in Ayodhya ( he must have done many such heinous deeds elsewhere ), was the Hindu temple built on a destroyed Buddhist place of worship ? None of these can be answered with certainty let alone if this site was indeed the birth place of Rama.

Second , affront to whom ?

  The other aspect of the argument is that if the action / behavior of questionable characters  ( Babar, Manu, founding fathers of USA, slave traders of Britain , many of our gurus of past who supported untouchability etc. )  was according to norms of that age then it is ok. You can not and should not judge them by today’s yardsticks. Does it mean :

The founding fathers of USA were  fine.

Slave traders in Britain, colonial rulers supposedly bringing ‘ justice’, proper behavior, democracy, rule of law were commendable because at that time a few ( hundreds or thousands ) natives getting killed, raped, maimed was ok from larger point of view. There are many landmarks in Britain , chairs in universities and libraries, colleges bearing the names of people who prospered because of slave trade. In fact many middle class people happily prospered investing in businesses of slave trade.

Collateral damage was ok as USA and Britain felt in Iraq war. That translated into a few thousands of innocent men, women and children dying, millions losing their property and livelihood.

American massacre of local Indians, Australians wiping out aborigines , Spanish brutality in South America are all ok as the norms at that time never counted slaves, natives or any one looking different as human. All can be justified.

Now a personal introspection :

If I feel upset if a statue of Churchill or Dyer is put up, is it fair to object if a rightist Hindu is upset about a mosque on a destroyed ( real or imaginary ) temple ? 

Do I have a solution  ?

1.       Do not create new monuments , symbols without sufficient thought. In modern times particularly for us in India it is a waste of scarce resources. Gardens, parks, play grounds, institutions, scholarships, blood banks and welfare schemes are needed and they can carry the names of whomsoever we respect.

2.       Existing ones should be exhibited with appropriate comments. Whether it is the brutality of invader, ill treatment of people, cruelty , slavery all should find a place. If there is a mosque standing on a temple destroyed it should be mentioned.

3.       Teaching of history should be dispassionate, factual and with out close identification of ‘ us ‘ of present  with ‘ them ‘ of the past. If appropriate alternative view points should be brought to the attention of students. It should be like us studying European history. While we may have a point of view we normally don’t get passionately involved.

4.       Glorification of killings, looting, expansion , wars should be eschewed. Whether it is Raja Raja Chola conquering Sri Lanka and killing thousands or Ghazni or Zhageskhan  or Alexander ( why call them ‘ great ‘ ) killing people are all abhorrent.

5.       Does that apply to Rama or Yudhistira expanding his kingdom and killing all who opposed him in Rajasuya  Yaga  , Muslim rulers and invaders causing destruction, missionaries and their imperialist supporters wiping out cultures – all are abhorrent.

6.       School books should be thoroughly checked. ‘ Rajput pride ‘, ‘Tamil pride ‘ , ‘  Shivaji Maharaj  ki Jai ‘ have no place in history.

7.       Lastly we are not one story country. Our strength, beauty and reality is in diversity. Artificially creating one narrative across the country is plain stupidity and is being tried with ulterior motives. We are a multi colored carpet with enormously rich design. This should be imbibed in us.

               What do you think ?

Journey of food, Journey of memories

Food Journey

 

While it is about food and drinks it is also about people, places and events associated with it. It is about regrets, slips, immaturity and lost opportunities. Also about many pleasant ones, about love and affection and friendships.

Earliest memory of good food is ‘ sundal  ‘ or ‘ usuli ‘ served in a temple in Cudalore when I was 7 years of age. Temple has vanished from my memory but sundal remains. The warmth soaking through leafy cup, aroma of freshly baked legumes , delicious taste and oddly a sense of accomplishment remains in memory.

Around the same time my romance with coffee also started. My parents would have coffee early in the morning say around 6 am. The metallic sound of steel cups touching one another or the kitchen platform or whatever would wake me up. I would rush to the bathroom to brush my teeth and present myself before my mother. She as well as father never forbid coffee for me even when I was young. It was rather unusual indulgence. Of course I am very grateful to them as I sip coffee in the mornings.

Shradha  : We children , four of us at that time , would be locked up or at least asked to remain inside a room. In the adjoining room the rituals of my father’s  parents’  shradha would be happening. The atmosphere there would be tense with a lot of purifying activities ( ‘ madi ‘ , after all we were Brahmins you see ). In our room there would be gaiety, eager anticipation and relaxed atmosphere although there would be no outward indication of any of these but a false solemnity. We would get Idly  from a restaurant or a food joint ( I never saw one though ) . We would be looking forward to it eagerly with an unusual appetite. Strangely , mother used to cook / prepare delicious Idly and dosa regularly for such unappreciative children.

When I was young I used to put Cashews and Almonds in the pocket ( my wife nor my daughter were there to chide me for such a unhygienic practice ) and eat leisurely ; later I graduated to Cadbury’s milk chocolate preferably with Almonds and raisins ; or still later chili chocolate and dark chocolate but the basics remained the same. ( meandering a bit : when I demonstrated how ‘ kAge  enjalu ‘ could be handy in breaking hard candies to share, Gundu was thrilled at his Grandpa’s ingenuity )

A theatre in London serving tea and snacks during a break in the play ; eating peanuts ( breaking shell ) in a low end Cinema theatre , Jayashree talkies, in Chamarajpet ; now in NPR outlets relaxing on a sofa with popcorn and coffee  -- all try to add the comfort of food with visual delight.

CCTR – in short for Chamarajpet Central Tiffin  Rooms ( almost British in name ) was a restaurant. It had one room ( special or family ) and a general hall leading to kitchen on one side and to the road on the other with cashier guarding that end. Palav with raitha there was supposed to be the best in that locality. It tasted good once or twice I had visited it. Several years later I did go to CCTR and felt that some memories should be left undisturbed.

Thambi’s ( our class mate in Engineering , was called Thambi because he had two elder brothers ) house, late in the evening at 10 pm, was the place for ‘ combined ‘ studies. A middle aged man would go on the streets selling / shouting  Hurugalu , chakkali , kodabale …..

Fourier series , Laplace Transforms, Cauchy’s theorem, complex variables – all could be handled with a ‘ pottana ‘ of savories.

I have thought about the vendor many times. I wish I had spoken to him, enquired about his family, asked him if  his children went to school, did he have any other profession, how long he worked, how much he made and many others. But I did not because I was a fool.

I have thought about  Thambi too. He was a decent, honest , intelligent man ; perhaps  somewhat aloof, arrogant , rigid, inconsiderate to others , ( regarding some qualities you might think I am describing myself ) ; did his doctorate and went on to become a professor in IIT Madras. Why is it that I did not keep up some links with him ?

NCC , post Chinese war : Air filled with patriotism , heroism ( real and imagined ) , qurbani - NCC was compulsory for two years. I had a lot of respect for the instructors for their honesty, sincerity and devotion to make us realize the seriousness of the problems facing the country. They were Lance Nayaks or some equivalent low ranked professionals and paid not well.

I loved the crisp starched ironed pants and shirts we wore, shiny heavy  black shoes … evening free snacks of poori sagu , uppittu and even dosa  sometimes.

The entire approach of NCC was wrong in my view. It was parade and parade – left, right, left and kadam       tal.  They should have introduced fitness as a theme, social work as a theme, sports as a theme and made it interesting. However that was , I feel that the least I could have done was to go and thank them. I feel we insulted them by our attitude, inadvertent  definitely, of disrespect and a sense of our own superiority. I feel sad about it.

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Some places and some memories.

Uma theatre and bonda shop. This was in Chamarajpet and was a small one less than 10 X 10 ft but evenings would be very busy. The customers would line up and take whatever was available almost thanking him. Next door restaurant would be empty and perhaps the owner would be eating ‘ bonda ‘ from his prosperous neighbor. Quality , quality and quality reigned.

Ganesh bhavan in ISRO layout. Getting down from the bus in the evening a couple of times I went there and had masala dose with Shirolikar. Of course our homes were within minutes of walking distance !

Why is it that I never went to his or someone like DLS’ home on an impulse and said ,’ let us go for coffee ‘.

Old people ( alas like some of us now ) after their morning walk would wait for their Idly – Vada so that any calories inadvertently burnt during the walk would be more than made up by a sumptuous breakfast. I used to be a little angry with them but now I smile and move on.

SLV near Ambarish ( Mandyada gandugali , rebel star ) old house. Even now it is one of my favorite places. Ignore health and order a masala dose and savor it. He is also known to give ‘ by two ‘ coffee even if you are alone. Why Ambarish ? Because that is the land mark to get there.

Shankarmut Brahmin café and famous Idly ( lonely planet fame ) with a person permanently sitting in a corner with a bucket of chutney for second helpings. Even now when I go there I can feel a sense of eagerness and pleasant anticipation. It is a pleasure to stand in the jostling crowd of young and old, fit people and generously endowed ones, serious and laughing, silent and loud ‘ my ‘ people. To watch the owner collecting money from a queue of eager customers and dumping the money hardly counting it is also very interesting.

IIT Madras  : Evening as the sun set , and we trudged our way to computer building to prepare for our ‘ night runs ‘, the aroma of freshly baked chapattis would fill the air. It was from the open air cooking done by CISF ( Central Industrial Security Force  ) Jawans drawn from various parts of India.

How I wish I had spoken to them and eaten a chapatti with them.

Shivanna stores had a unique owner , aristocratic to me , arrogant to some ;  tomato and masala soda ; gulkan and masala puri ;  the owner sitting in a small place does not need our sympathy. He owns the entire building of three stories.

Shettys after a long day of trade , and full of thoughts of profit and loss and now GST headaches , finally relaxing in late evening laughing and talking in Telugu of their own flavor.

Why is it our movies do not capture the beauty of such things ?  Multi lingual, multi cultural, multi background , multi religious people all united for a while.

‘ kUdalaradedeyallU kaMdItu Ekateya sutra ‘  ( from Adiga’s poem Aluvakadalolu  )

 

Cubbon park – a broad bed sheet spread on the grass with several food items on Thali and everyone sitting around and eating ;

I wished I had a Muslim friend.

Cubbon park is always dear to me. When we were engaged , officially or otherwise, we used to go on my bike and spend some time with the vendor , his cart loaded with tomatoes, puri and assorted masala powders; most delicious and then a coffee in Tiffanis opposite. I recall Bendre’s  poem (‘  hubballiyava ‘ and in particular the phrase ‘ chahada Jodi chUda ‘ )

Udaipur bus journey ; evening and hungry passengers ; road side stop and hot samosas on the offer ; some ‘ phirangi ‘ and health and hygiene conscious Indians like us hesitating at first;  I look faraway beyond the vendor to control the urge but finally could not wait any longer and had the most delicious samosas and hot tea.

Eating in the Railway pantry car was a dream come true. I had seen it in some movies, read about such things in novels but never experienced it. As the train speeds by and the scenery keeps changing, now fields, now barren, now some village, but we are safe and comfortable in our ac compartment , munching on pakoda  and drinking tea. It might be a little childish but I got ( get ) a lot of pleasure sipping wine in a train to Machu Pichu  or in a Canadian mountain train some years back. Railways can offer a great deal to tourists , travelers, common man ,  particularly in India , if only we realize it. It has romance built into it which is lacking in air or road travel.

TIFR in early 70’s. I used to go there for computer work when I was in IISc. I used stay with my sister in Khanjurmarg. TIFR had two wings of canteen. East and West. Western canteen was facing the sea. It was my yearning to sit there and have cornflakes and cold milk, bread toast , marmalade and coffee. Either I did not have enough money or I was a miser and hence I did not step into it. A few years back I mentioned this to one of the professors in TIFR when I went there to supervise how the grants of the trust were being used. Initially he was taken back and perhaps wondered what is wrong with me to mention  such things. Then he laughed and we had lunch there. I also complained to him and some other professors how like cowards they did not contradict PM Modi’s ridiculous statement in Science Congress of how  our ancients had performed organ transplant. They were sheepish.

I got bored of munching bland stuff with wine while travelling out of India. So once on my way to Airport I stopped at Shastry’s Bakery and bought some spicy chips and ‘ congress  kadale beeja ‘ ( what a name ). Later in the flight with South African wine it was so good. Desi and pardesi  blending so well ! I am sure my co- passenger must have envied me.

Mehrangarh fort overlooking Jodhpur is a beautiful one. I was really surprised and glad to see how well they have maintained the monuments in Rajasthan. We had dinner one evening with my niece and family. We were seated overlooking the city. In the evening around 7 30 or 8 pm it was a glorious sight with the fort built more than 400 years back lit behind us. You feel a part of the history. You feel that far back in the past the king and his queen and others would have stood there. In this case I have forgotten the dinner but the sight and the feeling of oneness remains.

Alaska , Gundu and Mount Denali. In Alaska one afternoon I sat with Gundu with one hand on his shoulder and holding a glass of wine in the other. Far ahead in front of us was Denali mountain range. On one side nature , making you feel humble, small , insignificant and an overall sense of awe. On the other , I engulfing my dear grand child and feeling so grateful to whom I do not know.

Amazon river cruise was a dream . We were on the Amazon river for 5 or 6 days . Fabulous vegetarian food far better than what one would eat even in India. One evening we went on a small boat and around sun set our guide stopped the boat . He asked us to remain silent for two minutes. The silence, broken by call of birds, sound of fish jumping and falling into water, small ,tiny waves splashing onto the boat, a few of us , men and women, from at least four continents, with nature binding us together.

 

It was an evening in New Jersey just coming out of a snow filled afternoon. There was sun, rather weak. My daughter and son in law planned a dinner with grilled vegetables, burgers, paneer and the like. It was glorious to watch the snow, sitting there with no thoughts of past or future secure and warm in our winter jackets. Made even better with Gundu shouting , ‘ Ajji / Anna take your wine ‘ . You are at peace with the world.

All things bright and beautiful,

All creatures great and small,

All things wise and wonderful,

The Lord God made them all.

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Bhates ; We visited them once and had lunch . It was a typical gujju food , several items in large measures . Then the master stroke of my dear friend Bhate.    He spreads a mattress with no fuss and asked us to relax. It was luxury, thoughtfulness, affection. ‘ Atthiti Devo Bhava ‘ meant that.

DHB once told me that on  guru poornima night eating outside in the open field with relatives and friends under a canopy of stars was a tradition with them. I wish I had such an experience.

Wedding feast – This is opposite of the above. No personal touches,  sincerely no one cares, in a crowd  you are alone. You enjoy the anonymity . I used to dislike it because of the noise and lack of hygiene and  ( might add sheepishly  ) due to  my immaturity. Now I like it – no responsibilities , vanity of women, dressed and jeweled, utter insensitivity of men shabbily dressed and often wearing Hawaii chappels  and general ‘  people watching ‘ while you eat.

At the other extreme, flamboyant , loud, no holds barred new year party also appeals to me. I remember a few including one in which NC Bhat  was trying to light a cigarette from a hand held burning log !

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Monaco biscuits : I was traveling alone from Nasik to Bangalore. After I got into the second train at Pune, after some difficulty , I realized I had nothing to eat or drink. And I had skipped breakfast. It was to be a four hour journey to the first halt. I was exceedingly hungry. My fellow passengers sitting opposite to me were of one family. To start with they opened their kit and Monaco biscuits came out along with juice and tea. They would have offered me some but I was adamant mentally and hence closed my eyes to the torture. After that my pride would not let me ask . I was also concerned that if I were to open my eyes I would certainly look at their food longingly. Those four hours taught me what hunger was and what an embarrassment or even shame someone would feel if he or she were to ask/beg. From then onwards I have never walked away from hungry human beings.

And if they are hungry children it hurts even more . ISCON’s initiative called ‘  Akshaya patra ‘ to provide healthy and tasty lunch to thousands of children day after day is something I admire a lot. I contribute whatever I can to  ISCON every year.  I recall with admiration  MGR ( in many sense an idiot ) who introduced mid day meals scheme to schools.

That reminds me of Mahabharata’s Dharmaraya . He used to first feed all guests, servants and even animals such as horses in the stable and elephants . Only when he was fully satisfied that all have been fed he would eat. What a culture even if it is aspirational ! This is what our leaders should be made of.

Yoga teacher Dr Nagaratna , once told us quoting from an ancient Hindu text, that  even if the person is a criminal but hungry one must feed him first.

The prayer before every meal that we were to recite in Yoga camp was :

Brahmaarpanam Brahma Havir
Brahmaagnau Brahmanaa Hutam
Brahmaiva Tena Gantavyam
Brahma Karma Samaadhinah

 

I understand Christians say this

"Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen."

 ‘daane daane pe likha hai khane wale ka naam ‘

While I don’t recite anything I am with them in spirit.

I strongly feel that if our children are well fed and no one goes hungry and they sleep with a satisfied smile on their faces that is when we can take pride in our nation. Real pride lies here and not in fancy buildings or latest gadgets or hoary past or glorious future.

When I am riding on a high horse or am on a pedestal of special, unique superiority ( self  proclaimed ) , Kanakadasa’s song cures me.

Ellaru maduvudu hottegagi

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIHT8y5EQbg

Particularly in the last couple of lines he does not spare himself or sadhus  like him.

We visited in one of our European trips,  Medici or some other royal family dining hall  .  Imagine a long table to seat 20 or more guests. Food and drinks served by formally dressed persons. Sometimes the meal would last 4 or 5 hours. Guests would take a break and walk in the huge garden overlooking the dining hall. And gossiping, bad mouthing and even worse often plotting against the host.

In a different place in Scotland : In one infamous incident Campbell ( one of the powerful noble families ) invited another family with whom they had feud for dinner. During the dinner every one sitting next to a Campbell was stabbed to death.

So much for ‘ attithi  devo bhava’.

Magic transformation happens when we cook. Utterly tasteless or even of atrocious taste , bitter, hard, indigestible stuff gets transformed into a delicious meal. One only need to eat dal, rice or raw vegetables let alone raw meat  to remind us of how cooking has changed our lives. I feel it keenly and when the dish turns out to be excellent ( yes I follow the recipe and not creative but even then ), I get a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment.

Samosa making artist at work in this video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zRjb0CWXlpo

I read that one Rajasthan royal family used to hold a party in the garden  once a month . The guests would come and prepare dishes with their special recipe  before sharing it with everyone present. I am sure there must have been several friendships forged based on common interest.

 

Food served with concern, affection, love –ambience including all these you remember it for a long time.

My grand mother used to cook well. But the problem was in serving. She was a traditional lady who would not eat food prepared by anyone else . She was generous in her serving. I was very fussy about the quantity as I hated to leave any thing to waste nor would like to eat more than I wanted. Over time my mother, sister and later wife and daughter complied. With my grand mother I was helpless. She ignored my shouts, pleadings and serve whatever she felt was appropriate. I, for once, was mature enough to smile. Years later Gundu would put whatever he was eating or whatever was around – say yoghurt to my plate of ‘ saaru ‘ and order me to eat ! I obeyed.

Story of Sudama and Krishna was one of celebrating true friendship aided by very commonplace ‘ avalakki’ and contrast it with a friendship that was soured by arrogance, power and wealth of drupada   and dronaa . When Krishna and Sudama both cried after ‘ avalakki ‘  I could precisely feel why.

One does not get satiated with money, fame or wealth of  various kinds but does so with food.

I want to revisit some of the places that gave me pleasure and are associated with many memories even if there is a risk of disillusionment.

Annadata sukhi bhava

 

 

 

 

 

Mannina Vasane 1

 

Mannina Vasane

I have always wondered if I would have settled down here in USA. Or what makes me stay in India ? There are many reasons and I want to explore one of them. When I keep thinking about it I lose track and it would slip away.

A little nebulous.

Please listen to it before reading further.

It is a folk song and I have listened to it many times over the years. The singer and also music composer is P Kalinga Rao. I consider him the best Kannada singer of ' bhava geethe ' .

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_sxAJ6oNto&list=PLtUk3ZLC-N8e9rSs0L8TzH6gkBupeXWYC&index=2

 

I use this song to convey one reason that holds me to my home.

Dasvalada huva tandu
Nanjunda
Daryage pooje madi
Hoo badi hoyitayya
Nanjunda
Eddu barayya manege

I like local gods. They are more intimate , amenable to our persuasion , we can talk to them in many ways as our moods swing. Our own in short ! . Each one can have her own personal God. Sometimes a small community, village or caste could own.

Sometimes God belongs to our province ( Karnataka seemedavane  ) , residing in the hill we see everyday , consuming food we eat and sometimes becoming abstract ( bayalada ropadavane ) . He watches and we watch Him.

They are not distant all powerful Gods - away from us , floating on unknown seas, moving in snow bound mountains that we cannot imagine, speaking in a language alien to us. Neither are they formidable ones punishing us in horrible hell , or promising eternal life.
Here and now is our Lord Nanjunda.

That is why he pleads and almost complains to Him to get up and come. In a tone that exudes familiarity.

Perhaps He does not oblige.

Then :

Nina karune tappida myale
Nanjunda
Paradesi nanadeno

Paradesi nanadeno
Nanjunda
Parapancha nanagyathako
Nanjunda
Nana chinte ninagyatako

Such a simple and straight forward appeal. Matter of fact.

I can not imagine addressing the Lord in such familiar tones , coaxing, cajoling, pleading, self pitying. As if he is conversing with a friend. How odd it would look in Christianity or Islam where God is to be respected , revered, feared. Here for many Hindus he is a lover ( God is masculine of course and our attitudes show up ) , friend, child, mother, father, Lord . We can praise , cajole, love, show affection, respect, devotion or anything else including blaming and ignoring. I love it.
(  Aside :

In a slightly different context, more elite and Sanskritised , is the nine forms of worship ( nava vidha bhakti ) from Narada Sukta.

To Quote

‘sravanam kirtanam visnoh smaranam pada-sevanamarchnam vandanam daasyam sakyam atma-nivedanam’

 

https://youtu.be/NKIhGn1QyZg

 

Listen to the above nine forms of worship. TMKrishna's sloka ).

Now back to the song :

His ( protagonist's ) life is linked to Him. He talks about his work, his joys.

Swaatiya male huyyito
Nanjunda
Sampangi kere thumbito

Here it tugs my heart. Why does Sampangi kere and Swati male resonate and evoke  memories and associations that Lake Tahoo does not.

That is why I live in India.

Jala nodi bavi tegeyo
Nanjunda
Kula nodi henna tegeyo

  

Wisdom of the age . So retrograde. So be it.

Hadinalku paradakhina
Hadinalku kirudakshina

I don't  get the full meaning. Nevertheless I feel like going around the temple or the hillock with the devotee.

I do not have to have all the mental makeup of the protagonist.
But I can sense it through him. See, hear, feel the devotion. Or as Coleridge said ' willing suspension of disbelief ' as I live through him for a while.

I do not.know how it fits here. Pico  Iyer  is a writer - Indian patents, Studied in England, later in USA , writer , traveler. Married a Japanese and lives in Nara, Japan . He has no roots in the traditional sense. I have read a couple of his books. He says ' .... I am not rooted in a place, I think, so much as in certain values and affiliations and friendships that I carry everywhere I go; my home is both invisible and portable. ..'. 

There is some element in it that echoes what I feel.

I do not pretend ( or aspire ) to be a global person. I do wonder about their ideas, attachments and feelings.

I feel my cultural heritage. What  ’ my ‘ people did, thought, felt is dear to me even if I am not in sync with their belief systems.

 

This may be one pull that I am unwilling to break.