Relationship of convenience.

Times have changed as far as relationships are concerned. It is now more of convenience than passion, commitment and care.  The relationships are just something that works for some time. Since there are no commitments you don’t have to worry about permanence. The key to start or end a relationship is with you; once the needs end you can lock it.

One is not worried about the trauma the other person goes through as the relationship was not derived out of passion and emotional connection.

To move around, have some company and fun, to have a “status”, or just for some “experience”, that is the purpose of such relations, nothing more than that I suppose.

This is what I think about majority of the relationship of current times. Am I correct? Looking around this is what I see. Of course there may be few exceptions.

The belief of such people is “it is ok to love someone but not be in love”.

It is perturbing to see that opening up of education and opportunities have accelerated such relationships these days. This may be a good example of education not paving way for cultural augmentation and wisdom. Accumulating university degrees does not help such people to manage their emotions and inferiority.

The young generation needs to be really cautioned about getting into such kind of bond. As this is just a waste of time, energy and resources.

How to know such relations in advance for remediation is a matter of debate. Some knows it with their wisdom, and some unfortunate ones learn out of experience.

Understanding the partner altogether in the earlier stages is the key to success. Rather than being doomed to a bland, mediocre existence, understand whether the partner endorsed their positive feelings with hearty (dare I say) enthusiasm. 

If one find the relationship is that of the “convenience” one then the ideal way out is to bite the bullet. End the "convenient" relationship and forget about it. It's better to fight being a little lonely than to miss the right person at the apt time. More over it is not worth thinking and wasting any more vigor on it.

For those who are into committed relationship obviously there is encouraging news from the study by the O’Leary team.  According to them there are evidences to show that not only can long-term couples get along with each other, but they can maintain their passion for many decades in spite of differences.  Close relationships are the centerpiece of our sense of identity and are fundamental to our feelings of fulfillment. By changing your thoughts and your behavior about these relationships, you can keep them fresh and vital for years.

Those who walked ahead of me.

I salute the Divinities, the Fathers–i.e., the Fathers and Mothers–the great Yogis; I salute Pushti and Svaha; may we have such auspicious occasions over and over again.

When we do “Shradha” we always do offerings to our unknown ancestors and recite the mantra as explained above in the beginning. We do not take names as most of us do not know our ancestors two generations old.

We then invoke the Vishva-Devas, the fathers, the mothers, the grandfathers, and the grandmothers. Having so invoked them, the Vishva-Devas should first be worshipped; and then the three fathers, the three mothers, the three grandfathers, and the three grandmothers should be worshipped, with offers of Padya, Arghya, Achamaniya, incense, lights, cloths.

I always used to think about our ancestors, those who walked ahead of us. How deep our roots are, where our ancestors lived and died? Where we belong to? When and why we came here and settled down? These questions have no answers and therefore it is often haunting.

In one of our ancestral house, I have seen ancestors in the form of stone idols. We worship these idols, and do pooja once a year. The pooja is an interesting one, what we offer to them is egg burji, fish fry chicken curry and liquor. This is a practice continued since generations, so probably our ancestors liked chicken, fish, egg and liquor. Although we offer them very humanly matters still we consider them above us. If something untoward happens we fear our ancestors are not happy.

Logically these rituals teach us that we should never forget ancestors whether known or unknown. We should respect them and remember them at least once a year. This indirectly teaches us to be obliged to our roots. We are connected with them through an invisible series of life cycles.

Due to my restlessness I tried to explore my roots and the findings were startling.
Our ancestors were wiser than the new generation. They amassed wealth in the form of land and the next generations lost most of these. The new generations went to schools and opted for white collar jobs. They did not have time or inclination to look after the land and in due course we lost most of it. To my utmost surprise I learned that the land I purchased for constructing my house was once belonged to our own ancestors. The women in the family were courageous enough even in selecting their partners. I doubt the new generations in my clan have any such courage.
While most of us are glorified servants in one way or the other, our ancestors were masters of their own destiny.

I bow down in the memory of those who walked ahead of me.

Indian Coffee House

After a very long time I visited Indian Coffee House (ICH) in my native town Trichur. The décor and the furniture’s are all the same. Once inside memories rushed back as I am fairly familiar with this place. I was automatically drawn to the same corner table where we can see the entire view of the coffee house. Once up on a time we used to spent long time here. The restaurant is filled with its distinctive Coffee smell.

I was dripping into nostalgia of bygone era. We discussed Marxism, existentialism, jean Paul Sartre, Franz Kafka, M. Mukundan, O.V.Vijayan, Aravindan and what not sitting in this table. All that was fashionable then and we used to spend the entire humid evenings during college holidays talking meaninglessly about all this. We pretended to be a part of intelligentsia - perhaps which was a part of growing up.

In this place you can spend lot of time chatting, discussing or dreaming without any interruptions. Café Coffee Day and Costa coffee and the likes perhaps borrowed this concept from Indian coffee house or In India ICH is the first to introduce this model. ICH is always very loud, people talking and laughing without bothering about etiquettes. I always felt this is the best place to share secrets as no one will bother about you nor will any listen in this chaos.

When I left Trichur to Delhi my friends gave me a goodbye party of Masala Dosa and coffee in this same table. That was a very touching moment. I left the place as if I will never come back.

Fortunately I found one ICH in Delhi, near Connaught place. I frequented the place alone, watching and experiencing Delhi. The Delhi ICH was very loud with politicians and advocates; I realized that student population has ignored this place. Habitually people talked politics and cheap gossips and they used abusive words without any mercy.

As I started working I didn’t had any time to go to ICH and slowly lost touch. During my vacations to home town I was curious to venture to new eateries as I wanted to explore the progress of my town. I forgot Marxism and Existentialism, as I more and more concentrated in the fight for my own existence. I lost touch with Mukundan and in fact to the literary scene itself. Occasionally I turned the pages of cineblitz or some other gossip magazines. Although I made some material progress I lost touch with most of my passions.

When I relocated to Bangalore, again I found an ICH on M. G. Road and I regained my connection. The ambiance was very good and as usual the food tasty and modest. I frequented this place with friends but this time like most office goers the talk was about office, increment, promotions and stupidity of superiors as if we got into the vicious circle of life’s futility.

ICH always attracted crowed with a difference. They served the same humble food over the years without any fancy and fare; still standing tall with all its modesty in these times of café coffee day. If anyone gives me an option of ICH and Costa Coffee, I will certainly prefer ICH.

My salutation to you ICH!

Death & Dying

We human beings live our life as if we are going to be here forever. At younger age we do not bother about death as it does not come into your thoughts and dreams. We become so possessed with our possessions and pleasures, we spend most of our time engaging in this activity and there is no time to think about death.

Someone has said each second we live and we die. Death is like a shadow that is always with us as inseparable. We are alive, therefore we have to die, and I think this is the simplest explanation available.

Death started haunting me from very young age and it was a never ending journey in search of the meaning of death and dying.

I still remember when my grandmother died, immediately they shifted her from bed to the floor, tied her legs together and put cotton in her nose and ears, removed all her jewellary. I could not believe this transformation from human being to corpse in seconds.

What makes a body to a corps in seconds? Is it because the heart stops beating? Or all the biological activity and breathing stops. I learned in my quest that it is more than due to all this. What we call as myself somehow is seems to be something more than our body. It is because our mind leaves our body, or the connection between our mind and body ceases.

There are different thoughts in different philosophies round the world. Hindu’s believes that once the “Prana” leaves our body we die. Since I do not experience my “Prana” it is easy for me to refer it as my energy. Prana or Mind or energy whatever it may be, I think we can feel that.

So there is something which you can feel within you but not see. Therefore the medical explanation available in books describing death is too mediocre. We die because that something which you can feel but not see ceases to exist in human beings.

There are several good books written by Dr Elizabeth Kubler Ross, like Death and dying and life after death etc. In these books she documents the transition very clearly. She has given narrative instances from near death experiences. Those who have undergone such experiences have explained their feelings of floating outside the body for few seconds.

We also indulge in extensive rituals after death in the family. I feel we ritualize death and dying as humans need ritual to deal with mortality. Often I remember the rituals I had undergone at the time of my grandmothers death and it has left an ever longing impression on my mind.

I have seen inscriptions of “Rests in peace” in cemetery, and wondered whether we have to die to rest in peace. If we cannot rest in peace in the present life which is very much in our hands whether we can rest in peace after death? Will our “prana” carry the burden of sufferings forward?

For some people death comes as a blessing, for those who suffer painful disease. Perhaps they may rest in peace at death. I have experienced that people who dye a natural death enjoy serenity towards the end.

Recently I went to an ICU to see my mother in law and found many critically ill people surviving there supported by machines and tubes r. That was a suffocating scene. The ICU smelled the smell of death. The smell and silence was haunting while the patients struggled alone in a caged atmosphere.

I feel one should have luck to have a natural death. A peaceful transition in a calm and serene atmosphere is all we can long for.

If we realize how fragile our life is and how at any moment it could be turned upside down, we will walk very kindly and modestly in this planet.

Cowards Strike Again

The cowards have attacked again from the darkness targeting innocent people. These innocent people’s sufferings accomplish their goals of instilling fear and use them as specific symbols.

I know for sure that religious terrorists are not believers, but misguided lots by so called religious leaders who use them as weapons to meet their hidden agenda. Any religion which propagate killings of gods own creations as a means can only be that of anti Christ’s. Going by any religious beliefs or teachings by realized masters, they are not going to attain heavenly abode, but will be trampled between the wheels of life’s cycle itself.

“Praise be to Allah, Lord of the Worlds, The Beneficent, the Merciful. Owner of the Day of Judgment, Thee (alone) we worship; Thee (alone) we ask for help. Show us the straight path, the path of those whom Thou hast favoured. Not (the path) of those who earn Thine anger nor of those who go astray. “

In the above verse from Holy Quran we pray to Allah to show us the straight path, the favoured path. The terrorist simply refuse to understand this, as they do not belong to any religion, leave alone Islam. The “owner of judgment” will decide their fate.

I have started believing that religious terrorism is clearly a failure of the very purpose that religion stands for, as it failed in creating harmony in the world. The basic purpose of any religious teachings is to enhance human wisdom and to elevate us to blissfulness by the teachings. If any religion fails in this endeavor that is the sign of its irrelevance. Therefore the religious leaders should renounce these terrorists from the respective religion.

Like terrorists our political leadership is also full of cowards. They lack commitment to eradicate terrorism. They have to survive with vote bank politics. Our police join hand with underworld that has nexus to terrorists. It appears in this vicious circle, we the common man is crucified time and again. Long live our democracy!

Central government had no time to govern the country since the day they came into power as they never got out from the scandals one after another. With a weak and invisible leader the team was busy harvesting wealth by all means. Terrorism and havoc in the country perhaps help them to do this without gaining much attention.

Our legal system is so liberal it allows the terrorist to have a safe stay in the jails spending tax money collected from the people. I have no idea whether justice will happen and if so when?

I know that the time is not to talk or analyze but to act. “Aam Admi” needs to wake up from the sleep.

Keith Barton wrote:-

Terrorist threats predicated by ideology
Of a sick mind who worships idolatry
Cowards disguised as martyrs
Who destroy and slaughter
Innocent people
Who worship under steeples

Terrorism is not a war
It’s fear from those we abhor
Religious epithets and ethnic slurs
Produce a monster like swine before pearls
Innocent children
Hearts not yet hardened

Terrorism will not be defeated
Until nations unite against those conceited
Misguided souls propelled by delusion
That life is but an illusion
Governments cannot win this war
But each person must face this chore

Terrorism is part of our history
Since Abraham, it’s not a mystery
Inhumanity and humanity co-exist
Between the precipice and the abyss
For we reside between heaven and hell
Where will you be when He rings the bell?

A walk in the Rain

It started pouring from the sky one day all at once, as if the thick clouds released its entire burden on earth. The monsoon has arrived as a guest before time.

My place is most beautiful when it rains.

With the explosion of electronic media, monsoon is big news for the channels. Weather analysts predicted a good monsoon, it reached Kerala in time and now it will reach the rest of the places in time. Share prices gone up the next day. Agriculturalists and Financial analysts appeared in TV screen and avowed good fortune for the country.

Poor rain, she is not used to all this attention earlier.

Whatever it may be I enjoyed the rains sitting in the swing in my balcony. It rains like cats and dogs, continuously for days together. I have never seen this sort of nature’s benevolence anywhere else. Rain cascaded through the slopes of the terrace and filled my soul.

Monsoon arrives with its live orchestra, accompanied by frogs and insects. Some time it sounded like the tintinnabulation of a thousand tiny bells. When it drizzles it is like a susurrus of a lover. Then it is like a thousand drums playing together. Occasionally rain took the avatar of Shiva the destroyer and danced with full fury as if it will teach a lesson to human insanity.

I enjoyed rains more during my school and college days. Just getting wet and walking in the rain with an umbrella for name sake is a thrilling experience. Those days there were no Rat fevers, dengue, or chicken guinea and we walked without any fear of getting any disease. There were no plastics and garbage on the road, Rain water filled the road we played with paper boats, and our parents did not stop us from playing in water.

Now rains are looked at suspiciously, as a spreader of contagious dieses. I call my daughter for a walk in the rain and she will say it is dirty out in the rain. No one wants to go out in rain. New generation miss the romance of rains.

In fact rains wash the dirtiness spread by human beings in vain year after year. Rains can cool human minds, fill their souls, Wish it could reach out human minds and cleans it year after year! How exhausted the rain will be!

Let me not think any more, I just want to see the rains soaking the earth and drifting to the roots of human existence. I just want to lie down in my bed staring at the darkness and listening to the live orchestra just outside the window.

Dilli

I came back to Delhi after fifteen years for a short stay. Delhi stood like a Big Banyan tree, welcoming me to its shades. I felt as if I found my lost love.

The smell, color, language and the people all are the same and very familiar.

The memories also are rushing through, Delhi hold lots of them, good and bad, happy and sad. I still remember the lanes and by lanes of Baratooti, Paharganj and Karol Baugh. These lines taught me the tastes of Delhi, and eventually I fell in love with their culinary expertise.

In early eighties I ramble through these galis, and the corridors of Connaught circus and Nehru place searching for job. After each failed interview I went to the lawns of Nehru Park and India Gate in search of solitude.

It was fashionable to go to Chanakya Theater and watch English movies, and I wanted to be fashionable. Delhi taught me to pretend even though I often failed in that art.

Punjabis, Jats and other locals were very kind towards me. They said poor “Madrasi”, and I got accommodation without much effort. They looked at me sympathetically and I survived the sweltering heat and freezing winters.

I found my companion in Delhi. We both bunked our office and went to Buddha Jayanti Gardens often. She gave birth to my two kids in Delhi. Those were the happier times. We went to Pusa campus and watched peacocks in weekends.

My father in law and maternal uncle were laid to rest here, and their ashes were scattered on the banks of Yamuna as a seed of immortality.

The Toombs of Mughal’s never attracted me, and I hardly went there to wake them up from their sleeps. I always loved to go to Chadni chowk and sadar bazaar. Those grimy galis mesmerized me always. I also loved to frequent the lawns of Nehru Park and Lodi Gardens.

Delhi made me to look at life differently, and I learned to be practical and brave.

I will go back now, but Dilli, I will come visiting again and again with my children. We will roam through your galis, and corridors without waking up the Mourians, Mughal’s and the Thuglaq’s.

After all Dilli Dilwalon ka Shehr he!