Arthur Rubinstein the pianist says "...if you love life, life will love you back" and what better day to realize that. Today I turn twenty nine, birthdays are blessed days for umpteen reasons. Apart from being around and being loved by your family and close friends, there are people who wish in the most adorable ways possible. I had to share one of this today:
Eliya, this house has a couple of entrances
apart from the main door that one can see here. Once upon a time there was this
man in his eighties loitering around the kattewhich is built
all around the house,a little elevation or a bench to sit is called so in Kannada. The summer heat of coastal towns of Karnataka ensure that
one stays out of the house, sweating yourself out in the sun is better than
getting fried like jackfruit chips in a pan of coconut oil inside the four
walls. Fit and fine, dhoti clad with a walking stick but very much unlike
Gandhi, this man, my Eliya Ajja was
a man of swear words. He would walk from one door to the other looking for
something outside or eagerly waiting for someone to come. If we were at one
door wanting to go out we would find him there, thinking of not to trouble him
we would move to the other, lo and behold he would be standing there too tapping
his walking stick on his shadow on the floor.
“Ajja!hopale daribidi”[Leave some place for us to go]we would tell.
“Acha bagilinda hogu”[Go through the other door]he would reply.
Go to the other and he would be there
again.
“Ajja!!!” we would scream our lungs out.
“Entha upadra ningaladu makale!“[What
trouble you give me kids!] he would shout back with a 'nayi inde mone' [son of a d** in Malayalam] and continue to
stand there.
Eliya Ajja strolling in the front yard
As far as I know Ajja was not much
into reading and writing, knowledge during his days was beyond all that. So
when I thought of letters and books of mysteries of life my ancestors have left
me only one person came to my mind. And it had to be him, my Ajja, a man
of shadows. There is this interesting story I have heard during night time from
his dear wife, my Ajji with whom he has had the best of arguments and also his
life. She would always add this nice prologue.
‘Aaaringu heleda!’[Do not tell anyone!]
The story would then begin.
Dakshina Kannada is a land of ‘Adike
Thota’ [areca nut farms]. Monsoon skies and greenery, mango trees and
sunshine, peacock calls and tender coconut water, cashew fruits and small
rivulets, ah! This experience deserves another post. Well Ajja being a farmer
took the best care to ensure he had a decent crop every year. There were a
couple of servants in the thota working
for him; ‘Aalu’ as they are called,
of course the caste system is now abolished. This incident was to do with one
of them. Areca nut markets were in rich business during that time, and where
there is money there is bound to be some theft.
On one dark night Ajja was out for
his rounds guarding his thota with
his ‘bedi’[rifle].
Apparently he heard
some movement, thinking it was a ‘kudka’[wild fox]
who was a frequent visitor to his thota at night he pulled the trigger and fired
a shot in the air. Far away, he heard a noise, like the deep ripping growl of a
thunder. He walked some distance, after only a few lapsed heartbeats he
understood someone was hurt and wailing. It was one of his ‘Aalu’ Rama, he was
shot dead. Ajja thought he was probably there to steal some areca nuts like he
had done previously, unfortunately it was his bad day and he paid a heavy
price. Not knowing what to do Ajja pulled him into a cave, he hid his body
behind the bushes and returned back home. The next day, Rama was not to be
found anywhere and news spread. "Rama has run away to the ‘Ghattas’" so people were told and thought, it usually happened with Aalus during those times, they would run away in search of work to the
Western Ghats and beyond.
The story would end here, and life
continued.
What Ajji narrated is something hard
to believe. I wonder how much of this is true. Ajja was a hero definitely but how
can anyone escape a murder even if it is accidental? Or is it possible for a
man as frail as an old areca nut tree himself to do this? Look at him, look at the picture. Can it be
him? Did Rama really die? Or did he run away? This kind of furtiveness is
interesting, it does not let me move on. It has been years now since I heard
this story, as a child I did not think much of it. But when I visit my uncles
at Eliya now, I think of whatever Ajji told me. In the lull of the noon when
Ajja’s clock is ticking or when the rest of the house full of his children and
their children are gorging on telavu[dosa made of rice batter] with kai[coconut] chutney or
when the raindrops fall from the edge of the roof at night I become aware of the voices coming from
somewhere up. It feels like Ajja wants to tell me something.
I wish he wrote down something
somewhere about what exactly happened, about Rama, about his escape and most
importantly how did he feel about the entire incident. I wish there was a
letter or a diary. Such thoughts compel me to search the atta[attic] or the old cupboards and trunks hoping that there is
something. I do this every time even now whenever I visit Ajji mane. On the flipside I am sure Ajji is up
there somewhere watching me and laughing ;-) After all what is life all about? You
and your loved ones, little mysteries about each other, some truths and lies, some
stories and experiences, some memories and moments, some learning and sharing,
some love and hate, some satisfaction and guilt, sometimes just being there for
each other and living your life to the fullest. I wish this was all in a letter
or a book. Their funda of how they went about doing it so graciously along with
raising nine children! That would definitely not be any cock and bull story. I would be the happiest if these beautiful mysteries are revealed and that would be my higher calling to follow and live by.
Love and miss you both, two of my most favorite people in this world.
The best love story is not about
Romeo and Juliet who died together,
but of Grandpa and Grandma
who grew old
together :-)
PS: I am participating in this creative activity organised by makers of The Path of Zarathustra in association withBlogAdda.
Today I shall write about my childhood hero. He was for
real, not any close to fiction. Grey suited, grey haired and with the most colourful
smile ever! At a time when the number and kind of leaders in India were not any
close to our expectations there was this one simple man. A scientist beyond excellence,
a President beyond power, a leader beyond vision and a human being beyond all humanness.
And not one ounce of air about him.
Words do not suffice to explain what he means to the
nation. His ‘talks’(deserves
an underline), his books, his smile, his vision, his interactions, his love for
students, his work and his mere presence has given India a supreme feel good
presence on the world map today. He has
ignited many minds and given us wings of fire. To dream, to follow our passion,
to work hard and to make a difference is what he believed in and made many of
us youngsters believe in the same.
Frankly speaking, Bharat Ratna Sri APJ Abdul Kalam is the
only stalwart who truly deserved to be where he was, to become the President of
India. I still remember the hullabaloo when people wanted him to continue for
a second term. I then wished he did, wished a hundred times thereafter! When we
as a nation have faced many tumultuous situations I am pretty sure there were
people like me who thought” If Kalam was the President, things would
have been different!” Yes of of course, no second thoughts about that.
Many of my elders at home used to tell me“If you want to become like someone, become like Kalam
thatha" These words ring in my ears. When each one of us Indians follow
what he has taught us, spread his message to the future generation I guess that
will be the day when he shall truly rest in peace. To bid a goodbye to this
world in the way he did today in the midst of a lecture to his favourite bunch
of people-‘students’ only goes to
say that he did what he did best through his last breath.
We will always love you ‘Our Dear Mr President’ for all
the lessons of life you have given us. Your ideas are nowhere but in our minds,
you are nowhere but in our hearts. For us, you have never signed off!
“You never know what you’re going to find in your
house”
-Franz Kafka in ‘A Country Doctor’-
“So what are you going to do with
these?” she asked” Keep them of course!” I replied. It was one of those situations when the mother wants to do away with the clutter in the house the daughter wants to keep the treasure box. It did not take me long to convince her, she gave me a smile like the family was related to Pablo Picasso somehow when I showed her what was in the box.
Around a good ten years ago in my first year of medicine when I had the pleasure of learning human anatomy with a scalpel, the Cunningham's Manual Of Human Anatomy, the nicest teachers and the best bunch of friends at the dissection table there was a GROSS ANATOMY record to be made at the end of the term. Here are a few pictures from mine:
Anatomy is all about science and art, and the human body is nothing less than a master piece. Every muscle, bone, artery, vein or nerve is there for a reason and they work as a team. Drawing them is as meticulous as they are at work. Each picture had taken me hours back then, and when I look at them now besides making me happy it reminds me how much we take what is inside us for granted. It is only when we are ill we end up wondering what could have gone wrong where.
The structure and function of every part of our body is nothing short of a marvel. And it is often assumed that everything under the skin is fine until there is PAIN, which is just one of the hundred signs and symptoms. How wrong are we, only if we did introspect more often! Think of the various organs we see here, how much they work day in and out for us. The innumerable cells that make them, the genes that code, the nutrients that they consume, the products they synthesize, the way they grow, sustain and die.
I am glad I did all this learning and drawing. I understand they are a little complicated, I have a hard time remembering the terms even now. But it is a nice thing to know what we are actually made of, isn't it? There are so many questions to ponder, like why is the heart beating in one particular rhythm and why is the brain thinking this way, there is no end to my list.
A cousin of mine was telling me a very interesting thing last Saturday;
some movies that we watch during childhood have a lasting impact on our thought
process he said. I did agree. They make us who we are. Inspiration does not take longer than striking a match during that phase of life. We ended up discussing about all those beautiful
movies that we used to watch way back then, a very nostalgic conversation that
one was, there was no end to our flashbacks. And all that while I had one particular John Williams sound track from a movie running in my mind.
A while ago when I heard that this man has left us, I could not get this one scene out of my head for hours, it is from an another adorable movie. The love with which he waves his hand from inside
the carriage every time the train passes by, it just makes me wish for a Grandpa like him. If you have watched the movie ‘The Railway
Children’ and remember the character of The Old Gentleman who does everything
possible for the three kids in the movie, you know whom I am missing and talking
about. Or I am sure you remember the quirky scientist John Hammond,
wearing a white shirt and a hat, walking around with a stick like he owns a
normal zoo and says “Dr Grant, my dear Dr Sattler, welcome to
Jurassic Park!”
I belong to the category of people who have graduated their childhood
through this movie and derived a hell lot of inspiration to learn about
evolution only to realize how minuscule we humans are, and hence this feeling, I
have lost a teacher. “How can we stand in the
light of discovery, and not act?” he had said. Even Spielberg considered him as an inspiration. It is indeed amazing how
we connect to people whom we have never met. No wonder I had that soundtrack running in my reverie.
Although internationally acclaimed and awarded for his direction with
the film ‘Gandhi’ in which Lord Richard Attenborough had literally put his life
into his work and many of his other films which he has directed or acted in;
like Brighton Rock, The Great Escape, Doctor Dolittle and Chaplin to cite a
few, I have always remembered him as a white bearded Santa Claus like old man
with a odd gap between his central incisors which kind of inspires even the
dullest man on this earth to smile.
I happened to
read one of his interviews in the Guardian in 2008 now, and I could not stop
myself from sharing. Here is the link : Richard Attenborough on laughter, levity and the loss of his
daughter. Most of us know about our actors and directors as artists and
nothing beyond that. We appreciate and laud them for their work but rarely do
end up getting a personal connect. Today I cried, because with Dick like he preferred to be called, I had one. A part of my childhood and science, I owe entirely up to him. Thank you for making it beautiful.
This photograph was clicked in 2009 during my visit to the North East of India with a bunch of good friends. The difference in the shades of water completely amazed me, this is one spectacular view I shall never forget. Here is where river Rangeet befriends the river Teesta, also called 'The Lover's Point' locally in Sikkim :-)
"I want to wear this again and again!" well that's what I said trying to console myself for the damage the hat did to my hairdo while Amma giggled. I have never seen my parents more proud, sitting amidst thousands, trying to clap the hardest and waving at me as I walked down the stage with that one thing in my hand, my MD degree certificate. Such a moment I tell you, after close to ten years of medicine...M.B.B.S, M.D.... A few more alphabets hopefully soon :-)
By the way I graduated with a gold medal a few days ago, I have not been frequenting this blog of mine in the last couple of months for library was the place where you could find me.It is such a transition phase right now with all the time in this world before I land up with a job or more study ;-) While that was an awesome day, a week after that I do not know if it is the post graduation stress of not knowing what next, confronting the future sort of issues. It frightens me seriously, now where do I learn this from-dealing with reality. Is it normal to be terrified? I guess so :-) Meanwhile I can only sing along with Pharell Williams "Because I'm happy...happy...happy!" Yay! :-)
In a remote village of Thingalady
in Dakshina Kannada of Karnataka this frame has been on the wall of the living room of my
granny’s house and it is hard to remember since when, every time I see it I go “So
like his name- ‘Atal’ -immovable”. Look at him, such clarity of conscience and
integrity in his eyes; something rarely seen in those of most politicians. The
calendars change, the photo frames change, the curtains change but not this one
here.
Today watching the swearing in
ceremony of the Narendra Modi cabinet if there is one person whom I missed was him,
the best ever prime minister our nation has had and who led the same political party a decade ago, not for what he did or did not but
for the person he simply is. With the new government we are bound to compare the
current to his predecessor, but we also know it is not prudent to do so. Let us not simply watch this time but participate. Vajpayee is a legacy by himself, and a man of unmatchable
words. Another special reason for many like me who grew up in the 1990s are his
poems, I learnt most of my Hindi from this great orator. Listen to this one, I bet you WILL get goose
bumps, what a poem!
With so many heated political arguments
and discussions in the media, the Dutts and the Goswamis in the last few months in the name of elections
most of us are having a sigh of relief now, and I am glad that is all over
today. Now it is time for something else-expectations and work, well fingers
crossed. We are a great but strange nation, being the largest democracy we
elect our politicians but hardly have any great leaders. And to the latter
category belongs this man.
Unfortunately we fail to remember anyone who is not
making news. Having seen his photo now and then sitting in the living room recently on one evening I casually asked one of my uncles” So is it time
for NaMo on the wall now?” with a smile and he went”Nah!” I gave him one of
those eyes out of the socket expression, he walked out of the room saying ”Let
him deliver, let him lead” Time for more than a speech now. India waiting. In the name of God.
Human nature
being what it is, drawn to sugar like an ant trail we are always at getting
keyed up when someone famous or around who is having all the joy and success, fame
and name or good and great things heard and said about them. A weird but fortunate thing indeed. At different phases of life- scientists,
sportsmen, statesmen and celebrities. C’mon we all have had that one forever
poster on the wall in the room so that it is the first thing we see when we
wake up in the morning and gazed at him/her like there is nobody else in the world, a
scientist for that eureka moment you thought even you can run with some day, a
cricketer for the way he just held the bat before hitting that boundary, a
leader for whatever he believed and said and did. Inspiration is like fresh air
around, good to breathe.
On a more personal level- a teacher who gave that extra push,
a friend who has always been there no matter what, the mother or father for the
way they just love us unconditionally, well we relate and connect to all of them and how can
one forget those social gatherings where all the elders have this one common
question to ask every kid around after the dance, song and reciting sessions “So
whom do you want to be like when you grow up?” Frankly I would be at sixes and
sevens with that one particular question back then and even now.
In my experience I remember one in a group of boys I met in some school during a health checkup camp few years ago, the teachers had a tough time getting all of
them from the playground because cricket was keeping them busy and a compromise
with that, nah! He was quite restless, continuously looking at the wall clock
and worrying if his PT period was getting over. After examining his chest and
running nose which he kept on rubbing with the back of his hand and the collar crease
I ordered “Say aaah” to have a look at his throat. He looked intently at my stethoscope
and the torch in my hand and asked “Dactar Akka, injection elri?” [ read where
is the injection? ]. And just a minute before that I was thinking of making this smart
chap stand still by mentioning that one formidable medical apparatus.
“You don’t need one right now” I answered. He seemed to
smile hearing that. There was something about him, some sort of energy, he
couldn’t keep his feet together in one place at one time. He observed everything
and everyone around him. I was sure he would have already formulated an opinion
about the bunch of white coats who had utilized his quality cricket time, he was
batting by the way. Examining his eyes, teeth and nails tempted for a
conversation I ended up asking him the same old question with all the curiosity in this world, “So what do
you want to do or whom do you want to be like when you grow up?” and phat came the reply “I want to be myself.”
Look at his grin, yes the one right in focus !
He ran back
to the ground before I was done with filling his yellow medical card, and there
he was one of my role models running, falling, fighting, shouting and hitting
boundaries. Most importantly doing what he loved doing the most, being himself.
As long as we do not have any sort of contempt for learning; each person,
thing or a situation around has something to teach us. You don’t need a hero on
the big screen, a scientist with an invention or a leader with a following. Think
on an introspecting plane and you realize at times we ourselves are our own
role models. I know it sounds too vague or maybe proud but unless we are aware of
this, there is no getting better or being happier than what or how we were a
minute ago. This little young man taught me that, to live and most
importantly enjoy all your moments. Now isn't he a man of honour? :-)
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