Abhiyum Nanum

Another movie on Father - Daughter affection. Rekindled my long suffering longing for a daughter.... but all this is getting a little cloying - too much father sentiment. Of course for far too long mothers have been glorified, and its about time fathers got their due recognition, but this is too much lar....

But I most enjoyed the mastery of Prakash Raj's acting. Which overshadows and eclipses almost everything else in the movie. Even the sardarji who Abhi wants to marry. To make the sardarji palatable, the story line has the PM himself calling him on the phone (PM being a sardarji himeself was not explicitly mentioned he he he). And Abhi's mum is just a part of the background.

Naan Kadavul

I got this email today, and just had to record it here, verbatim, for posterity.

Subject: Naan Kadavul - A must watch movie releasing for Ponggal (Jan 15th 2009)
The secrets of Naan kadavul has been kept in secret till now. This movie is almost nearing completion and in an scoop interview to a Tamil rag, the director has confessed some of the closely guarded secrets of the movie. Naan Kadavul is mostly shot in the banks of the Hindu sanctum river Ganges and opens with Arya’s rudradadavam in the shorings of the Ganges. When retrieving an incident during the shooting, Bala adverted that a Sadhu visited the spot after hearing the song "Orumurayaa Irumurayaa" composed by Maestro Ilayaraja and did not leave place till the song gets over. "He heralds from northern India and did not infer a word of Tamil, But still, I could see tears running down his cheeks towards the end of the song,"
Bala added. The Sadhu touched Bala’s feet before leaving mentioning that he could trace the meaning of the song without understanding the language. 'Such was the baron of music and that was when I agnised Ilayaraja’s music has no boundaries,' Bala further said.
Bala has brought to light the lives of Agory Sadhus, who are said to be cannibals surviving on the dead in the banks of river Ganga, for the first time in Indian cinema. The movie also concenters on the lives of physically and mentally challenged people and beggars.
"I wanted to engage real people in the movie and hence we had to interact with such people a lot to make them extradite the dialogues perfectly," Bala added.
Arya plays an Agory in this movie. There are certain scenes of Arya devouring Pooja’s dead body which might pay for trouble from the censor board. However, Bala has an equally powerful climax scene in hand just suppose if the censor officials raise concern.
Besides, Bala disclosed that the climax fight scene took about one month to shoot. He said that the fight scenes would be real and they had to work for a month to that effect. Thus this movie seems to convey a typical work of Bala. Let's wait for the movie to be released.

Night

The ramifications were astounding. Why should this happen at this very moment ? A question which was on everyone mind, but had no answer. The car crawled along. The rain was incessant, with flowers intermittently woven in. Ram looked down at the instrument. The strings were frayed. The sound of the dog barking made him look up. It was Jeannie. "The doorbell is not working!". Carmen stood up. It was getting dark, and she wanted to get back to Vegas before midnight. The cards were still face up. Madhu pushed the wad of money forward. "This is my last stand," he sounded tired. Ron dealt. Just then Vishwa entered. He was dragging the coffin. "What the hell is that?", Latha was shocked. Everyone looked at her. The coffin was opened. It was full of cash. Ram strarted strumming. The notes were haunting. Suddenly the doorbell sounded. Ram looked at Jeannie questioningly. At the door, the undertaker was standing with his assistants. They had another coffin with them. "Go away! We don't need you!", Jeannie shouted. Ram strummed the guitar again. Soon the only sounds were those of soft snoring. Outside, the full moon shone down on the house. An owl hooted briefly. Then there was complete silence.

THE ASVALAYANA GRIHYA SUTRA

Most of the questions referring to the Grihya-sûtra of Âsvalâyana will be treated more conveniently in connection with the different subjects which we shall have to discuss in our the Grihya-sûtras. Here I wish only to call attention to a well-known passage of Shadgurusishya, in which that commentator gives some statements on the works composed by Âsvalâyana and by his teacher Saunaka. As an important point in that passage has, as far as I can see, been misunderstood by several eminent scholars, I may perhaps be allowed here to try and correct that misunderstanding, though the point stands in a less direct connection with the Grihya-sûtra than with another side of the literary activity of Âsvalâyana. Before speaking of Âsvalâyana, makes the following statements with regard to Âsvalâyana's teacher, Saunaka. 'There was,' he says, 'the Sâkala Samhitâ (of the Rig-veda), and the Bâshkala Samhitâ; following these two Samhitâs and the twenty-one Brâhmanas, adopting principally the Aitareyaka and supplementing it by the other texts, he who was revered by the whole number of great Rishis composed the first Kalpa-sûtra.' He then goes on to speak of Âsvalâyana—'Saunaka's pupil was the venerable Âsvalâyana. He who knew everything he had learnt from that teacher, composed a Sûtra and announced (to Saunaka that he had done so)Saunaka then destroyed his own Sûtra, and determined that Âsvalâyana's Sûtra should be adopted by the students of that Vedic Sâkhâ. Thus, says Shadgurusishya, there were twelve works of Saunaka by which a correct knowledge of the Rig-veda was preserved, and three works of Âsvalâyana. Saunaka's dasa granthâs were, the five Anukramanîs, the two Vidbânas, the Bârhaddaivata, the Prâtisâkhya, and a Smârta work Âsvalâyana, on the other hand, composed the Srauta-sûtra in twelve Adhyâyas, the Grihya in four Adhyâyas, and the fourth Âranyaka: this is Âsvalâyana's great Sûtra composition Here we have an interesting and important statement by which the authorship of a part of the Aitareyâranyaka, which would thus be separated from the rest of that text, is ascribed, not to Mahidâsa Aitareya, but to an author of what may be called the historical period of Vedic antiquity, to Âsvalâyana. But what is the fourth Âranyaka to which this passage refers? Is it the text which is now set down, for instance, in Dr. Râgendralâla Mitra's edition, as the fourth Âranyaka of the Aitareyinas? Before we give an answer to this question, attention must be called to other passages referring, as it could seem, to another part, namely, the fifth part of the Âranyaka. Sâyana, in his great commentary on the Rig-veda, very frequently quotes the pañkamâranyaka as belonging to Saunaka. Thus in vol. i, p. 112, ed. Max Müller, he says: pañkamâranyaka aushnihatrikâsîtir iti khande Saunakena sûtritam surûpakritnum ûtaya iti trîny endra sânasim rayim iti dve iti. There is indeed in the fifth Âranyaka a chapter beginning with the words aushnihi trikâsîtih, in which the words quoted by Sâyana occur. Similar quotations, in which the fifth Âranyaka is assigned to Saunaka, are found in Sâyana's commentary on the Âranyaka itself; More later .

The Pancha Bootha Temples

Ekambareswarar Temple in Kanchipuram. Shiva is worshipped as Prithvi Lingam, symbolizing earth - one of the five primordial elements. The Lingam itself is made of earth, and no abhishekam is done to it.

Sri Kalahasthi, the Temple dedicated to Vayu, whose presence is evident by a continuous flame which flickers though there is no way for air to enter the temple.

Chidambaram, associated with Nataraja, or Shiva in his Ananda Tandava pose also worshipped in the "formless form" of the Chidambara Rahasyam, while the temple is known for its Akasa Lingam, an embodiment of Shiva as the formless Space.

At Thiruvannamalai, Lord Siva in the fire element makes the inner sanctum a virtual furnace, heat emanating from the Shivalingam.

Thiruvanaikaval, near Thirichirapalli is dedicated to the water element. The main deity, Jambukeswara representing the element Water, sits under a Jambu tree over a small stream that engulfs the deity during the rainy season.

Aurangzeb

In Mathura, we were at the birthplace of Lord Krishna. What we saw was a huge mosque ! It was heavily barricaded with barbed wire and high fences, and soldiers swarmed everywhere. Beside it was a temple of sorts. We were told that the actual birthplace was under the mosque, which had been built after the original temple had been destroyed.

In Kasi, the Vishvanath Temple too had a mosque beside it, towering above the temple gopuram. The fortifications, barbed wire and soldiers were present here as well. The Nandi was facing the mosque. Our guide explained that the original Shiva Lingam was located where the mosque stands now. The present temple was rebuilt next to the original site.

At Ayothya, the birthplace of Lord Rama, it was even worse. The mosque which used to stand at the spot where Lord Rama was born had also been demolished. It was a barren area and the army fortifications were most severe. We had to pass through at least 5 checkpoints, and walk through a cagelike walkway over nearly a kilometre, to see idols of Lord Rama installed in a tent.

It was during the reign of the Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb, who was such a passionate Muslim (was he ?) that he decided to demolish many Hindu Temples, foremost among them being the three temples at Kasi, Mathura and Ayothya. He built Mosques in the spots where the temples used to stand. In hindsight, he has done more disservice to Islam than anything else.

On returning , I read up a little on the atrocities of Aurangzeb (as well as other Mughal Emperors). It was frightening, what some of these barbarians did in the name of Islam. Unfortunately his follies still stand, as a sore reminder of what a misguided person in power can do to discredit a great religion.

Going to war ? Get a Vios.

Never knew the Vios was such a tough one. It actually pulverised a (so-called) armoured vehicle and came out unscathed. Eight soldiers riding in the apparent safety of the armored car were hurt in the accident, after which the armoured vehicle had to be towed away. The driver of the car escaped unharmed while his car boot was partially damaged. Go get a Vios.

The Yatra

An amazing experience, to say the least. We travelled severeal thousand kilometers. From KL to Chennai, to Rameswaram, Kasi and back to Rameswaram before returning to Chennai and home .

The first part of the yatra itself was at Devipatnam near to Rameswaram. What we saw was Navagrahas installed in the sea, about a hundred feet from the shoreline. The idols were reportedly installed by Lord Rama himself, and were part submerged in the sea. We bathed in the sea before doing navagraha pooja. As soon as we finished, a brief but intense thunderstorm blanketed the place.

Next stop, Rameswaram. A place where many of the incidents related in the ramayana took place....

Olagappar – The father of the world

Olagappar cycled to the temple every evening. And he polished his bicycle till it was spick and span. And the boy would stand and watch. Olagappar would expound the intricacies of bicycles to the boy. The boy would listen in rapt attention. Sometimes the boy would try to polish his own bicycle, but somehow, he never got the same results.

Sometimes Olagappar would speak on the philosophy of life. “Karumbai virumbinaal Vembu… Vembai virumbinaal Karumbu”. “Hanker after the sweet things in life, and you experience bitterness; Love and accept the bitterness that comes your way, and life becomes sweet..” The boy listened in awe at Olagappar’s wisdom.

“Virumbi ponaal vilagi pokum… vilaki ponaal virumbi varum” he would pronounce. “Go after something, and it moves away…. Move away, without attachment, and everything comes your way”. Profound words.

Nearly half a century since those days, and Olagappar is probably long gone. But the boy is now a man, who still remembers his eternal words….. to this day.

Home Minister par excellence

We are proud of our Home Minister, Datuk Seri Syed Hamid Albar. But we would like him to go home. For good. Why ? Read on.

Speaking from Johor Baru soon after the detention of reporter Tan Hoon Cheng, Syed Hamid justified Tan's detention under the ISA with the reason that it was part of the government's preventive measure "to ensure her safety".The minister claimed police intelligence have indicated that the journalist's life was under threat after she reported an Umno division leader's allegedly racist remarks.

And again, recently:

KUALA LUMPUR: A police beat base located in the Chow Kit area of downtown Kuala Lumpur has been shut down because the “presence of criminals could make it unsafe” for police officers.
Home Minister Datuk Seri Syed Hamid Albar said the beat base was located in a dirty area where police faced the possibility of being exposed to contagious diseases.
The presence of criminals also posed a threat to the safety of police officers.

The Farangs

The Farangs taught us many things. When we were children, we recited,
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again!

And wondered at the tragedy of Mr Dumpty. Then we sang,

Rock-a-bye, baby,in the tree top.
When the wind blows,the cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks,the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby,cradle and all.

And silently wept at the baby’s misfortune at the hands of nature. Then came,

Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down
And broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.

Why were we as children being exposed to so much tragedy ?

And recently I read,

Lizzie Borden took an axe,
And gave her mother forty whacks,
And when she saw what she had done,
She gave her father forty–one.

My God, this Lizzie is a psychopath, but who wrote the poem ? But they do seem to come in the same pattern as the nursery rhymes of yesteryear. Is it in the Farang culture ?

As a young man, ABBA songs were among my favorite. Then came the movie. Mamma Mia tells the story of Sophie who longs to know the identity of her father. Understandable.
Then she stumbles upon her mum’s old diary, Sophie finds three men who could possibly be her dad ...

Perfectly normal and a classic for the farangs. But imagine this as a Tamil movie !

The Saiee Devotee

There was once this devotee,
Who claimed to pray to Saiee.
But whenever he was speaking,
He was loud and not at all loving,
And his temper, it was hot as chillee.

Delight

What delights more than children who listen when you mention something you long for, and surprise you with the very thing ?

What did they do to deserve that ?

In the midst of Navarathri, as we were praying to Durga, Lakshmi and Saraswathy for more health, wealth and wisdom, a disturbing situation presented itself. There is this single-mother family which we (our Sai Group) have adopted. The middle-aged widow has 4 kids. Last Thurday, we had decided to bring them to the Sai centre for Navarathri. And the shock realisation dawned on me when I went to pick them up. The mother works in a scrap metal factory. And the family lives in a ramshackle shed next to the scrapyard. Surrounded by other sheds housing (mostly young male) foreign workers.

The house itself is barely a collection of planks, and subject to flooding at the least downpour. And this mother, living alone in this desolate place, with her young children, including a 14 year old girl, surrounded by male foreign workers. What a nightmare. Imagine for a moment your own mother, wife, sister or daughter in that situation.

Considering this brave mother’s plight, what else can we ask of Durga, Lakshmi and Saraswathy for ourselves ? Pray for them.

As an aside, we are endeavouring to find alternative accomodation at a more secure location for the family, with some assistance to help them out.

Iyer Poem

Iyer Poem
IYER POEM..A time line of Iyer life


Age: years and months bb ( before birth! )
Parents and grandparents are lamenting….
For the grandson who’s late in coming…..
Many a prayer and venduthal and vows….
Hoping for my arrival before the cows !
And finally, I did, that August morning…
Leaving all and sundry happily rejoicing.


Age: 6 Months
All these mamas and maamis have come here...
For a grand welcome of their new born fellow Iyer...
And my parents will feed food to me with a ring...
And give me a name long enough for you to sing...
Koundinya Gothra Koduvayoor Chamukutty Narayana Markandan Dorai,
but most won’t bother, and will simply call me “dey” !

Age: 10 years
Topping my class is an inborn talent I possess
Teachers & relatives, whom I never fail to impress
Daily dosage of idli, dosai, sambar, rice and curd
Who on earth do you think will not turn into a nerd?

Age: 18 years
Disembarking the “Rajula” at Madras, into the squalor,
Looking for a college that would be my alma mater,
“You should become an Injinear,” everyone chorussed,
So what to do, Engineering it was, as everyone else wanted.

Age: 23 Yrs
For five years, a struggle to keep afloat..
Against the hordes innumerable who gloat,
“we are the cream of India”, while partaking arrack & tea.
At last, yipeee... I completed my BTech in IIT...
These five years, they were the best time of my life,
I reminisced as I sailed back home to a new life ...

Age: 24 Years
(Single status in Malaysia)
It has been one long year since I have come here...
Time to start a family, before its too late...
Will leave for Madras on a 30 day leave...
And come back with a maami right up my sleeve...

Age: 30 Years
(Now married, struggling with samsaar)
I have two kids, but there is a gripping fear...
Both of them have no signs of being an Iyer...
Narayanan & Vasudevan we named them fondly...
But Jai & Viju I call them if I want them to even reply...
But so what if they didn’t become Iyers,
They would, in fact become Injinears…

Age: 60 Years
(sudah retire )
I am in Palakkad, with my ever faithful wife...
But my kids stayed there and think we don't have a life...
Tirupati, Guruvayoor, Shabarimala all we've been to...
Sun TV is our faithful friend which we always turn to...
The overgrown garden is my dream farm in the making
As I sit on the massage chair all day, munching the kacang, thinking,
“Are we going to be the last of the brilliant Iyer generation?”
To our children, tradition and culture seem only a botheration!
But then, they have values, which naturally are more valuable..
So all is not lost, because with values, life is salvageable.

Plagiarised & adapted with apologies from “A Tamil Brahmin Iyer”

The Call

Manoj fidgetted as he watched the phone. He prayed hard slilently. “God, please, please, please. Let her say yes. I will do anything. I will break 3 coconuts”. He tried to recall the Ganesha mantra he had learnt at Bal Vikas. “Vaikunda mahagaya, nirviknam samapriya…. “. No. That wasn’t it. He wondered if Ganesha might be upset that he had said it wrong. And place an obstacle in his way ? “Sorry Ganesha, I promise I will learn to say it right. Please, please, please, help me this one time”.

The phone rang, jolting him out of his thoughts. He grabbed at it clumsily, causing it to fall. He cursed under his breath as he picked it up; but the connection was lost. He put it down wearily, and fidgetted again. Waiting for it to ring again. Surely she will call again. He waited for what seemed like hours. Maybe she thought I cut the call ? Maybe she is upset ? And then it rang again.

“Hello, yes, Vidya ?”

“Allo, Auntie irukkangala, Saroja pesaren..”

“Illa,” he slammed it down. Idiotic woman. Eppa ethapatthi pesarathunnu theriyama…
Then the phone rang again.
“Hello,” he was more cautious.
“Hello, Manoj?” It was Vidya!
“Yes, yes, yes, tell me, ok or not ?”
“Ok.”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, my dream has come true…. ,” in the excitement Ganesha was forgotten.
“It’s the midnite show, 4 tickets, box class.”
“Thank you Vidya, I will never forget your help for the rest of my life.”

Olde Soloman

MA: Who goest there ? Show thyself.

Solomon: It is but me, Solomon of ye olde towne of Londonderry.

MA: Thou art here ? What is thine business ?

Solomon: I beseech thee. Do not reveal my presence.

MA: But I canst help that. I shall speakest the truth. Always.

Solomon: Thou durst refuse me ? Thou hath therefore crossed me, and for this thou shalt die.

MA: This shalt come to naught. Begone. Do not tarry, lest danger doth visit thee. Let that be thine honour

Solomon: I shalt go. But let not this be a victorious thought for thee. Thou shall pay. As your fathers of yore did. Farewell.

MA: Sari than, poyya. Vanthuttaru Salaman Papaya.

Four out of eight

Another bizzarre case in the paper yesterday. Twelve year old boy scolded 4 year old sister for stealing his sour plum (whatever that is). Then his twenty year old brother scolded the twelve year old boy. Then the 24 year old elder brother, feeling left out, came along, and stabbed the twenty year old to death.

But there were 8 siblings in all. The other 4 were well behaved.

Raman Thediya Seethai

An enjoyable movie. In spite of the wintry conditions at the cinema.

Cheran was once a mental case. But he is brutally frank about his past. And insists on relating it in his haunting stammer to his prospective brides. The twists in the story line are nice. Cheran’s good character shines through. Blind Pasupathy is another moral beacon. Although his blunt manner with his prospective in-laws was a little jarring. Finally Cheran gets to marry the first girl as she sees his true character, when he helps the girl who ditched him on his wedding day.

There are few persistant villains in the movie, whch is refreshing. The only baddies are a few guys on motorbikes who crash into a little girl, and tamely get a thrashing from blind Pasupathy. Another candidate is the evil scrap metal dealer who deals in stolen motorbikes.

Not much humour, except he part where the guy carries the gift-wrapped grinder up the stairs.

But I ask myself, would I let my daughter marry an ex mental case ? Doubtful.

But the movie was worth the lost sleep.

Ah Seong's quest

The vast majority of the affluent citizens of PJ were snoring in their comfortable beds. The glass and steel structure of the commercial complex loomed majestically against the gloomy sky amidst the early morning drizzle. Ah Seong rolled over again, drawing the thin sheet of cloth over himself. He shuddered, lying on the cold floor in front of the building. The mosquito sang in his ear again. He slapped it against his ear, and opened his eyes wearily. Dark heaps were all around him. People huddled all along the walkway. Some were asleep, in spite of the cold, and the mosquitoes, and the hard floor, snoring and adding to Ah Seong’s woes. He looked at the clock tower outside. It was 2 am.

Ah Seong awoke with a start. It was day and the sun was shining. There was a commotion going on nearby. Suddenly he remembered. He scrambled up and ran over to the crowd. He elbowed and pushed through until he was close to the door. The stink of the unwashed was unbearable. But he had to be among the first few. It would be worth it. He smiled to himself as he thought of the gleaming PS3.

Managing the managers

Archibald : "Listen Clem, we will try to accommodate your concerns. Read my lips, we are going to have to build in accountability"
Clement : "But these guys, they are using ambush marketing. But while waiting, can we put a band aid on the problem ?"
Mark : "Ok, I will get that."
Archibald : "The benign report is not a problem, but this idea, well, can we bounce it off someone today ? And lets stop these reports before they grow into a brush fire."
Clement: "Arch, you make a very compelling case, although we do need a competitive analysis before we begin. I am sure that will create value for our customers"
Somanathan : "It's within the bounds of our corporate culture, and we will deal with that when the time comes. Please give me the mandate. I must leverage on our strengths. We need a paradigm shift here"
Archibald: "That's true from your perspective, but we really need to put a spin on that. To make us look good"
Mark: "Here it is. Where do you want me to put it ? And what spin?"
Somanathan: "We have a situation here. For sure."
Archibald : "Looks like we're on a 3 way street here."
Clement : "Hey guys, get back to the table. Park that offline for a moment. Lets take a blue-sky approach. What are you expecting by close of play?"
Somanathan "I say we get the low hanging fruits. Do you really want to boil the ocean to get a pinch of salt ?"
Archibald : "Listen Soma, Clem, I really don't know what we are talking about here."
Somanathan: "You too ? I thought I was going bonkers."
Clement: "Mark, on second thoughts, get the band aid. I think it goes across our mouths."

Win-win

MA: I saw them as I made the U-turn. And one of them saw me talking on the phone. And he also saw that my seat belt was off. I tried lamely pushing the phone under the seat and pretended to dig my ear. But he was furiously blowing on the whistle and pointing angrily while yelling into the walkie talkie. And his compatriot up ahead ran towards me , waving his baton.I stopped. I had been caught talking on the phone while driving, and with my seat belt off. I waited. Mr Policeman approached me. He was smiling and was exceedingly courteous, "Selamat petang tuan", he smiled. He was probably thinking, "Got you, you slimy rat".
"IC dan lesen tuan", he smiled widely. My heart sank further. My licence had expired a week ago. No time to renew. I took out my wallet. And started bleating excuses and apologising profusely to the man.

Mr P: It was just the 18th of the month, but the bank balance was zero. The wife had come up hesitantly to me this morning, “Bang, susu dah tak ada. Bil letrik pun kena bayar.” I was irritated, “Nanti petang kita bincang.” And then little Suraya ran up, “Yah, hari ini kena bayar yuran. Ayah janji akan bagi duit”.
“Bagitau cikgu ayah akan datang petang nanti bayar”. And I left the house before any more demands could be made.

MA: As I fumbled with the wallet, Mr Policeman found a win-win situation: "Ok, macam ini. Kalau I saman, tuan kena bayar 300. Kalau bayar sini, 100 saja. Boleh?". And I looked down at my wallet. A few pathetic notes totalling RM26 peeped out. No go. I looked at the brave policeman. "Saya tada 100 tuan."And he was furtive, "Tapa, berapa ada? Bagi." And the policeman dipped his fingers into the wallet and grabbed the 2 red notes."Terima kasih", he waved me to leave. I felt the feelings rush in quick succession. Relief, shock, shame, despair, regret. And as he left, I saw the words "Saya anti-rasuah" on the round badge he proudly wore on his chest.
And it was then that I remembered what Baba said, "Never give or take a bribe".

Mr P: I lay awake all night. My hands felt filthy. My mouth was dry. Something inside me was hollow. I remembered how as I saw my child, I had to avert her eyes. The feeling of shame was overpowering. And in the evening, as I handed over the money to the wife. I could swear she was reluctant to touch the notes. And her look. I squirmed. I remembered what the Prophet (PBUH) had said: “The curse of Allah is on the giver and taker of bribes.”

Rajini

The Queen sat at the middle of the chamber. She was immense. And she looked resplendent in her colours. The soldiers stood all around. They looked menacing as they glared at all around. And the workers kept busy. Rajini was a worker. But he was unlike the others. He did not relish his role. He resented it. What made the Queen special ? Other that her gross size, of course ? And the soldiers. They did no work. They just stood around. Of course they fought off the intruders. And the enemy invaders. But most of the time, they just stood around. What made them special ?

Rajini knew that he was stronger, and could win a fight with any soldier any day. As he stood thinking his thoughts, a soldier caught sight of him. Instantly the soldier charged at Rajini. And then, Rajini did the unthinkable. He fought the soldier. It was a terrible fight. The other soldiers stood agape, The workers stopped their work and watched. The Queen actually glanced at the fighting pair, rolling on the ground clawing at each other. And finally, both lay still.

There was a moment of silence. And Rajini stirred. And Rajini rose. His opponent lay lifeless. The Queen looked at him in shock. The soldiers backed down. And the workers worked furiously. And then Rajini took flight. He flew away into the night.

From then, Rajini was known among the community as the bee who would not be a bee.

Priarangan : Man of conscience

PRIARANGAN: “I can’t.”
DOCTOR: “You must.”
PRIARANGAN: “This is something that my conscience cannot accept.”
DOCTOR: “Tell me. Search your heart and tell me. Do you really want to go through the certain hell that will follow?”
PRIARANGAN: “But how can I live with the knowledge, if I were to do it? That would be a worse hell.”
DOCTOR: “Sigh… What can I do to help you make up your mind ? I am trained to do what is best for you. My ethics call for me to do this. It is unconscionable for me not to.”
PRIARANGAN: “What about my conscience ? Ha ? Don’t you care about that ?”
DOCTOR: “Ok. Let us cool down. I will talk to you again tomorrow morning. Deal?”
PRIARANGAN: “You can talk to me again, but I am not changing my mind.”
DOCTOR: “Good night.”
PRIARANGAN: “G’nite”
In the morning, when the Doctor came in, Priarangan was dead.

Ad infinitum ad forte.

Mark: So the creation is sustained by prayer?
Swami: Well, we must all be creative, as this is what makes life meaningful.
Mark: Why are we praying then…?
Swami: Because we are in error.
Mark: Mm.
Swami: The computer will detect the errors. It is programmed to do so.
Mark: But what is troubling me then ?
Swami: Not knowing the true nature of your self. Who are you in essence?
Luis: He is God in essence ?
Mark: No, I am not. This scheme is for the handicapped.
Luis: Yesterday I came here and I got lost.
Swami: The rocks… use them as lighthouses.
Luis: They are like huge sculptures. Excavated from the rock face.
Karen: And we are drilling mainly for gas. Natural gas. The wells range between two thousand five hundred metres to three thousand five hundred metres in depth. Ha ha ha.
Luis: So basically I am in charge of the three workers under me. I am in charge of all the mechanical and electrical systems. The air systems. Pretty much everything that is moving on the rig. Except the rocks.
Swami: It is pretty dangerous. The errors can add up. They can even explode sometimes.
Karen: Do you have a background in like engineering or anything like that… mechanical…?
Mark: Oh. Well. Here I am. I am standing outside the Mosquito City Trade Towers and I have got an interview with Peter Bestluck, the richest man in Mosquito City, in about five minutes. I had better go in…
Peter: When was your appointment ? Five thousand years ago?
Wong: And…but he..when he…when he called (and it was recorded) it was the ice age. He said he wanted to live forever. I have the carbon dating.
Swami : What do you call that in Chinese ? The elixir of immortality?
Luis: “Chang sheng bu lao yao”
Peter: He did not come back because if he could not complete his mission he would be killed…Abdul: كل سنة و انت طيب *1
Santa: He dared tell a Sardarji joke. सालगिरह की हार्दिक शुभकामनायें *2
Luis: And so we must have five hundred boys and five hundred girls to get there…to make a big ceremony …to hold a big ceremony…
Nakamura: …Living in the mountains in Japan were some people with long beards and long hair. They were not Asian people. They were very hairy people.
Santa: Arrhe .. My sister would have been like five or six and I would have been, as I said, about two at that time so they traveled with two children just to show us I guess..
Swami: I rest my case.
Mark: A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi. Accipere quam facere praestat injuriam

*1 ? you are hoW
*2 (unintelligible)

Dollah

Dollah sat sullenly at the counter. Endless lines of people, day in and day out. All wanting to register their babies’ births. And many who came could not read or write, and he had to fill in all the details himself.
He looked up at the shabbily dressed young man. The man smiled proudly. “Tuan. Mau dapat surat branak untuk anak saya”.
“Nama?”
“Gunasekaran”.
Dollah started writing. Then he looked up. “Itu nama anak kah?”
“Oh, he he, bukan tuan. Itu nama saya”,
“Aiyah, bodoh. Saya tanya nama anak la”,
“Manimekala. Anak pompuan tuan.”
“Che, Cakap pelan pelan la”
“Mani Mekala”
“ Money May Kalah a/p Guna Sekarang”, Abdullah wrote on the form.

How the crude price rise helped Suparman

Aloysius watched as the numbers flashed on his screen. Crude had hit US$200 a barrel. He was making millions in his deals. He smiled as he thought of his Porche, and his new villa at Kenny Hills. And his trophy wife Liz. Life was good indeed.

Kim Leong looked through the window at the bleak grey sky. He mentally calculated his losses on his contracts. Prices of everything was shooting up skywards. He was losing money on all his contracts. He had to trim his costs.

Suparman was frantic. His wife had called from Makassar. His son was very ill. She needed money urgently to pay the hospital. And this morning the Chinese boss had sacked him, saying there was no more work. His pleadings had fallen on deaf ears. Suparman squatted on the pavement. And then he saw Kim Leong emerging from the doorway. Instinctively Suparman knew what he had to do. He got up, and grabbed the piece of metal.

Just then, as Kim Leong stepped off the pavement, the Porche sped around the corner, knocking him down. The car careened on to the pavement, sending Suparman scampering. Suparman saw the flashily dressed man slumped in the sports car. On the passenger seat was his briefcase, half open.

Kim Leong lay on the hospital bed, his left leg amputated at the knee.

Aloysius rested in his grave, oblivious to the legal manoevres of the Commercial Crimes Police, who had frozen his assets. Aloysius had not been content with the millions he was reaping. He was into fraud as well.

Suparman sat with his wife. She was grateful that Suparman has brought the money. Their child was safe. And her husband had told her that he had earned enough, and did not have to go away again.

Mean Jack

Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water
Jill fell down
And broke her crown
But Jack stayed up
And doubled up in laughter

Kevin & Liz

Liz looked downcast. She was overwhelmed by what had happened. She never expected this could happen to her. She sat down and closed her eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She sobbed softly. After a quiet while, she slipped into a slumber.

The doorbell woke her. She ran to the door, wiping her face on her sleeve. It was Kevin, her husband. She opened the door, and as he came in, she fell against him, sobbing again. He just hugged her tightly. “Shshsh…. baby,” he tried to comfort her. But tears welled in his eyes too. Liz looked up at him. “Why did it have to happen to me ? I just had him for 2 weeks !.”

Kevin looked at her, puzzled. What was she blabbering about ? “What did you say?”
“Ruff. He has been with us for hardly 2 weeks. And now he is gone.” And then it dawned on Kevin. Liz did not yet know that her mom had passed away. She was mourning for Ruff. And Kevin had not known Ruff was dead.

Mob justice

Tamilarasi was furious. But she contained herself until the car turned the corner. The she exploded. “Who does she think she is, ordering me around. It was her son who spilt the soup on the floor.” Mohan was irritated, “Listen, she just asked you to help clean up, what’s wrong with that ?” Tamilarasi couldn’t believe her ears. Her husband was siding with his sister ! She started raising her voice and he responded equally loud. The storm had reached a crescendo when it happened.

In his fury and amidst the loud shouting, Mohan had not noticed the child. A sickening thud, screeching of brakes, Tamilarasi’s screams as she was thrown towards the dashboard. The shouting outside, the ugly mob surrounding the car, the child’s lifeless body lying limp on the tarmac. The mother running up and beating against Mohan, the mob violence. It all went by in a flash.

ROAD ACCIDENT: CHILD KILLED; 2 BEATEN TO DEATH BY MOB

Kuala Lumpur, 30 Feb 2008: A mob beat to death a young couple who had earlier crashed their car into a 6 year old child, Siti Zalizah (6) killing her instantly. Mohan (28) and Tamilarasi (26) were returning after celebrating their first Wedding Anniversary at Mohan’s parents’ home when the accident happened, at Kg Kerinchi. The crowd from the nearby colony surrounded the car, and turned violent on seeing the lifeless child. In the ensuing violence, Mohan and Tamilarasi sustained serious slash wounds and head injuries. They were pronounced dead on arrival at the University Hospital. Mohan’s sister, Vinitha could not control her emotions. “They had been so happy just a short while earlier. I cant believe this happened. I was particularly close to Tamilarasi, who was like my sister”, she said amid tears.

Anon

I wonder who is this guy, Anon, who has spawned so many wonderful sayings, which are so often quoted. Here is another one:

"We can learn a lot from crayons. Some are sharp... some are pretty... some are dull... some have weird names... and all are different colors.... But they all have to learn to live in the same box."
- Anon

Vasthu

Dheenabhandu was emphatic. “You don’t have faith in vasthu, how can you get ahead in life? Have faith ! It is a sure fire and tested principle, handed down by our ancients.”

But to me it was a load of bull. When I met with the car accident, it was just an accident to me. But to Dheenabhandu, it happened because my car was the wrong colour, and the registration number was wrong too. When the tree fell on our bedroom, Dheenabhandu was there saying, “I told you so”. And the fact that everyone was getting ahead in life, while poor old me remained poor, in my hum-dum job at IWK? Vasthu of course.

Then one fine day I had enough. I decided that I too would embrace the principles of vasthu. I wanted to be lucky and rich and famous too.

And within months, it proved true. Vasthu was the magic way to sure riches. I admitted wholeheartedly. Now I went around telling all the other hapless folk why they were meeting with rotten luck all the time. And I would hand them my business card, which had the neat inscription at the auspicious top right (North East) corner: “Mark Antonn, Vasthu Consultant”, with the extra “n”.

The Jambuist meets God

Zippo, a bachelor with no family dependents, believes that the Jambu Tree in his garden is God. Every morning, Zippo wakes up, goes into his garden, prostrates before the Jambu Tree and gives thanks for the blessings he will receive and asks that he be given strength and courage to do what is good and right.

After his morning prayers, Zippo leaves his house and heads for his workplace of the last 30 years: an orphanage. Zippo teaches English to young orphans. Lunch is provided at the orphanage and in the evening, before he leaves for home, Zippo picks up two food packs. One for dinner that night and the other for breakfast tomorrow. That’s his wages for the day.

That, in a nutshell, sums up Zippo’s daily life.

Fast forward to judgment day.

Zippo’s turn is up and he is summoned into the judgment chamber.

He enters with great trepidation, expecting to see his familiar Jambu Tree.

No tree.

Nothing, except the sense of a Great Presence.

And then he hears judgment being handed down.

“Expecting a tree were you, you silly bugger! Go on, the door to heaven’s on the left”.

(plagiarised & adapted with the best of intentions)

Day and night

The asteroid was hurtling at breakneck speed, heading straight for our blue planet. It was colossal. Almost as big as Australia. It would be a direct hit, and the world would be blasted into smithereens.

People panicked when it dawned on them that they had hardly a few weeks to live. People dropped whatever they were doing. The range of reaction was amazing. Some just broke down and cried. Some turned to religion. Others decided to enjoy their remaining days with wild abandon. Churches, Mosques, Temples were packed. So were the pubs. But it was every man for himself. People were just people. There were no farmers, factory workers, shopkeepers, barbers, plumbers or policemen. They were just people. But there were looters. Everything belonged to everyone. And no one cared for anyone else. True nature was displayed. No pretences anymore.

The scientists, at first caught by surprise, quickly gathered their wits, and started to think of plans to blast the asteroid and divert it away from a direct collision. But at the last moment, it was confirmed that the asteroid had veered off its path. It would pass by several tens of thousands of miles from earth. There was much cheer. There was hope again. People scrambled to grab whatever they could again. But there was more to come.

The proximity of the pass as it occurred caused massive tidal waves and tsunamis, and triggered natural disasters never before seen. Millions died. The destruction was unbelievable. But everyone thanked their lucky starts that there had been no collision. That would have wiped out the earth, and everything on it.

Soon after the event, the scientists checked the aftereffects, and found something that made people wish there had been a direct hit, and a blissful end. They found that the earths rotation was slowing down. Their calculations predicted that in 5 years time, it would be close to standstill.

The slowdown process was into its third year now. Each day was 521 hours long, and the nights were the same too: the equivalent of 20 days of darkness. Many plants had begun dying. The slowdown was too swift for them to adapt and evolve. Animals were uneasy and nervous. Food was running out. Tides lasted too long, triggering flooding and salt water intrusion making coastal areas uninhabitable. Polar and mountain snow melts were accelerated, further exacerbating the calamities. Ocean currents were altered drastically, playing havoc with weather. People looked sickly and pale. Relentless heat, extreme cold and adverse weather made many of the hitherto fertile parts of the world barren deserts. People started moving to more greener pastures, even as these shrunk. Man’s selfish base nature surfaced. Wars were triggered, accelerating the destruction.

Three years on, as the rotation of the world slowed down to a standstill, there were no more humans left on earth to experience the phenomenon.

Real Estate

It was reported in the papers that a bogus real estate agent has been nabbed. I wonder if only the agent was bogus and the estate real, or both agent and estate were unreal.

The Mechanic

Me : Pagi pagi kereta ada problem la.
Mechanic : Ahhh. Apa ploblem ?
Me : Bila jalan corner ah, ada bunyi “kreek kreek” macam itu.
Mechanic : Bunyi dali mana ? Tayar ah ?
Me : Tatau la. Saya ingat roda kiri depan la. Boleh tengok ah ?
Mechanic : Boleeeh….

Jacks up car, goes under and checks all wheels. Says nothing. Meanwhile I wait nervously

Mechanic : Aiiyyoo.
Me : Pasal apa ?

Silence.

Me : Ada apa ka ?

Mechanic grunts. Long silence as Mechanic fiddles around under car.

Mechanic : Ini ah, tayar dua-dua sudah botak satu side lo. Bealing pun ada problem.
Me : Oh.
Mechanic : Tayar ini ah, you tak jaga ah ?
Me : Sheepish grin.
Mechanic : Ini bahaya tau. Dia kalau laju ah, boleh skid. Manyak bahaya lo.
Me : Sekarang kena buat apa ah ?

Silence. After a long moment, mechanic emerges from under car.

Me : Macam mana ?

Silence.

Me : Ha ? Macam mana ?
Mechanic : Ini dua tayar kena tukar balu la. Bealing kiri pun ada ploblem.
Me : Aiyo. Ini tayar nampak ok la. Kena tukar dua-dua ka ?
Mechanic : Mana ok ? Ini macam you cakap ok ah ? Ini bahaya tau. Lebih baik tukar dua-dua.
Me : Boleh pakai spare tayar tukar satu saja la ?

Mechanic looks at me in pity.

Me : Boleh ka ? Pakai spare tayar satu. Lagi satu tukar baru.
Mechanic : Ini macam punya balang ah, jangan main-main. Bahaya tau.

Ini spare tayar ah, dia sudah lama. Getah sudah kelas. Saya rekomen ah,

dua-dua tukar.
Me : Macam itu ka. Satu tayar berapa ah ?
Mechanic : Ini Goodyear ah, sekarang dia sudah naik harga lo. Tapi ah, saya bagi you special,

satu tayar 180 linngit saja.
Me : Aiyo, 180 ka ? mana ada macam itu harga ? Dulu saya ada tukar 150 saja ?
Mechanic : Bila you tukar ? Saya tengok ini tayar ah, saja ingat ini tayar belum tukar dari beli

keleta lo. 180 sudah patut la.
Me : Ok la. 160 la. Tukar dua-dua.
Mechanic : Taboleh la. Mana boleh macam itu harga ? 180 sudah patut la. Saya pun untung

5 linngit saja.
Me : Ok la. Ok la. Buat la.
Mechanic : So dua tayar ah, 360 linngit. Ini valve kena tukar lagi, satu 10 linngit.
Me : Ya ka. Ok la.
Mechanic : Lagi balancing satu roda 20 linngit ok ?
Me : Itu bukan masuk free ah ?
Mechanic : Mana ada free ? Kena bayar lo.
Me : Ok, Ok. Buat la.
Mechanic : Kalau betul-betul ah, tukar tayar ah, mesti buat alignment tau.
Me : Ta apa la. Saya lain kali buat.
Mechanic : Sekalang ah, you tukar tayar, ta buat alignment ah, nanti bunyi masih ada tau.

Lagi tayar makan satu side lagi. Lebih baik buat alighment satu kali la.
Me : Berapa ah ?
Mechanic : 50 linngit saja.
Me : Aiyo mahal la.
Mechanic : Mana ada mahal ? Ini mana-mana pun sama saja.
Me : Ok ok, buat la.

Mechanic signals to his men. They start removing & changing the tires.

Mechanic : Ini bealing macam mana ? Kalau ta buat ah, nanti dia pecah nanti susah lo.
Me : You cakap problem tayar, sekarang dah tukar tayar you cakap bearing pula.
Mechanic : Ini terpulang pada you. Nanti ah, kalau ada bunyi krek krek jangan komplen lagi.

Saya sudah cakap ah, tayar dengan bealing. Tamau tukar bealing mesti ada

ploblem punya.
Me : OK, bearing kena buat apa ?
Mechanic : Ini bealing kiri ah, dia sudah teruk sangat la. Kena tukar balu.
Me : Kalau tukar berapa ?
Mechanic : Nanti saya check.

(Phones & speaks in Chinese. I wait in fear)

Mechanic : Ini original punya Toyota punya 850 la. Lagi upah 50 linggit.
Me : Ok, la. Buat sekali.
Mechanic : Ok, tuan. Tuan luluk dalam ah, kita buat semua sekalang.

Lingam Phone Conversation - the other side

Fairuz: Mr Lingam. What we want is the best la… and constant assured supply.
Lingam : Correct x3. correct x2. You know that the same problem that Eusoff has. He tried to do all this and yet he has run out of oil
Fairuz: Yes. I know. Eusoff was a connoisieur la. He wouldnt settle for anything less.
Lingam : Ha ha ha. Ah yes.Correct x5, right x3 correct. Ah right susah. You see he has now to supply the oil for six others la, so that he can make sure his men have enough.
Fairuz: Yes. I know. But you chaps have to promote your product well la. At the highest level, you know what I mean ?
Lingam : Correct x3, ah and then ah, correct. But never-mind, I will do this, I will get Adnan to arrange for the boss to call you and Vincent. And you know why, actually, I am very grateful with Vincent you know why, I brainwash you so much even I quarrel with him. One day I went to Vincent’s house, I fire him at the night in his house. I said very hell if you don’t do this who will do it? We have to take the oil bath every Saturday la. All these people Eusoff , Fairuz, Zainon all fought for that. Then he called Adnan. Adnan he said, saya bukan boss lah, you know. If the old man doesn’t want to listen to me, go to hell. He quarreled with me. I said nevermind, nevermind, you talk to boss again tomorrow morning. At least once in 2 weeks la… oil bath with Lingam’s oil. So next day morning he went and he called me back 9.30 that he said boss has already agreed. So I said nevermind, we hope for the best. So I said no harm trying, the worst that it can happen is that you lose. Being the old man, he is 76 years old, he gets whispers everywhere, and then you don’t whisper, he get taken away by the other side. But, now boss is very alert because every time he wants to buy oil, he called Adnan, he said discuss with Vincent, come and discuss.
Fairuz: That’s good, but the other chaps are also trying to get in la. You not seeing them enough. Why don’t I see the boss direct ah ?
Lingam : Correct x2, ya, but you see although I know the boss, .. I go through them, I go through them lah. Ah x4.And then Zaidin will call them telling that you went saw the boss direct and you make a big issue out of it.
Fairuz: Are you keeping tabs on them ? What are they up to ? Lingam : Ha, it seems that they are going to organize a campaign to promote the other oil la. But you just keep quite don’t say anything. Even the press asked, you said I leave it to God, that’s all. Don’t say. I really like your message. You said you work very hard, what can I do? I leave it to God.That’s the best answer that you can ever give.Ah… I will also get Vincent to put a bottle for you la. This will elevate you, you know.
Fairuz: But everyone knows the other oil is useless what ? Unless they have been going around saying your quality is down.
Lingam : Ah.. My god that’s why, ah. Correct x4, ya x4 right x3 correct x2No don’t worry, I know how much you suffer for this la. I know Fairuz 110% loyalty. We want to make sure our friends are assured of their oil la. For the sake of the country. There is only Lingam’s la… Not for our own interest, not for our own interest. We want to make sure the country come first. Well, you suffered so well, so much you have done.
Fairuz: Better make sure the quality is maintained la. Also you have to keep up the campaigns .
Lingam : Ya ya, don’t worry x2. We work hard on this. I will organize it to get the bottles of oil specially made la.
Fairuz: Ok, I leave it to you la. Bye.
Lingam : Ok all the very best. God bless you and your family.

Kural

As a student in Chennai in the 70’s I used to travel by bus, and the Pallavan buses had these quotations from the Thirukural, by the Tamil Poet Valluvar. They were mounted inside the buses, just above the driver, and as most of the time you would be travelling standing, you could not help reading them. Most were unintelligible to me, considering my very basic Tamil knowledge. But this is one which I recall.





A very beautiful reminder on gratitude, while at the same time, exhorting one to forget the unpleasant immediately.

The Sardar inventor

The Sardar was history's unluckiest inventor of lemonade. Over the years he came up with 4-up, 5-up, 6-up and then gave up.

He then went on to invent the inflatable dartboard, which was inexplicably a failure too.

Random thoughts..... which made me think.

If time heals all wounds, how come the belly button always stays the same?

Is experience what you get when you don't get what you want?

Does it prove that life is hard by the fact that nobody gets out of it alive?

Should you live every day as if it were your last because eventually, one day you'll be right?

(adapted from anon)

A Malaysian scene

The chendol stall was crowded.

The haggard old beggar lady approached the people at the stall. She had a bundle of her belongings under her arm. “Tuan, lapar la. Beli minum,” she pleaded in a small voice. Most just ignored her, and turned away. They did not want their moments of pleasurable slurping of the chendol spoilt by this dirty old lady.

Sitting on small plastic stools among the crowd, savouring their bowls of cool chendol were two young men, smartly dressed, and sweating in their ties. They were obviously well to do businessmen. Their driver waited a short distance away in the BMW.

The old lady came near them. “Tuan…. Lapar”. She looked up at them plaintively, ready to be shooed away. The men looked at her. One of them turned to the chendol stall owner, “Bagi satu chendol pada dia”. The other man stood up. “Amoy, duduk sini.” He offered her his stool.

The old Chinese lady sat down thankfully. “Telima kasih tuan.” A smile cracked her wrinkled face. She slurped down the chendol, occasionally looking up gratefully at the two Malay businessmen.

Masglish

Ledis en gentemen. Weewil be lending shorly. Plispuyorsit apait an retanyor chartabel to is oiginal poishon. All eltonic divise masbi sweechoftoavoig enterferens with ercraf sistem. Kabinlaits wilbedim fodelanding. Ifyuwishto read, pliswsichonthe seetreedinlait. Thankyuforyour corporashen. Anthankyuforflaing malaysia airline.

Bhagat Singh

Bhagat Singh, in Punjab he lived
One day his wife bawled, quite livid.
You see, Bhagat, he had been out of sight
And his speed, it was faster than light.
The Sardar had left home one day
Albeit in a relative way
And returned on the previous night.
(adapted from Anon)

Thought, Word & Deed

Keshav considered himself a Sai devotee. He was a regular attendee at the Sai Bhajans. He sang and clapped. He even spouted Sai teachings on and off. For him, Sathya Sai Baba was God. He avoided temples. The rituals and the money grabbing priests put him off. Not to mention the tiring antics of the pious Hindus like loud and unending prayers , coconut breaking, abishekams with an assortment of materials, and so on.

But in a confused way, he still considered himself a Hindu. He chanted the Ganesha mantra every morning. And whenever he faced a problem, he had no qualms about calling on Ganesha to remove the obstacles.

He spoke pleasantly to everyone. But he despised most of them. His family members in particular. His wife’s nagging was unbearable. When he faced her, he would often wish within himself that she would just disappear from the face of the earth. But he would smile and oblige. He led a good life, materially speaking. In no small measure due to the largesse he received from his in-laws, as a sort of continuing dowry. His children irritated him. In particular his teenage daughter, who was so goody-goody. She had advice for him on practically everything. But he would lavish praise on her. “What a model child. We are so blessed”. Inside, he fumed. His colleagues, he considered such a pain. All of them earned praise from the boss. Apple polishers. To their face, he would praise them too. “How lucky I am to have such great buddies !”.

The message for the week was read by a child. She read haltingly, “Thought, word and deed. They must be in harmony”. For a moment, Keshav felt a stirring within. But got over it soon enough. He carried on as usual.

The day began as usual. Sitting at the altar for the obligatory prayer and “meditation”. More often than not, Keshav would be thinking of how to get back at that pest Sharma at the office. Or to avoid his wife’s nagging that morning. But as he got up, he had a seizure.

Keshav was bedridden. In the beginning a constant stream of visitors would come. He would curse them and scold them and tell them how much he despised them all. He would tell them what animals they were. He told wife that she was a nagging bore. And his daughter that she was an unnatural pretender. Everyone heard from him what he really thought of them. Sometimes he would grab anything he could and throw it at them. He couldn’t help it. And so the visitors stopped coming. Everyone did all they could to avoid him. He was a lonely old man. But his thoughts, words and deeds were in harmony. At last.

The Flash

Water H20. Propene H2C=CHCH3. The brilliant light flashed in Marks's mind. He was in one blinding moment exposed to the Truth.
Water consists of only hydrogen and oxygen. Everyone knows that. But these two elements have natural stable and radioactive isotopes. Due to these isotopes, the relative abundances of isotopic water molecules follow the natural DeClerc sequence.Pure water has a unique molecular structure, with O-H bondlengths of 0.096 nm and the H-O-H angle = 104.5°. For carbon, the numbers of valence electrons increase from 4 to 8. These elements require 4, 3, 2, 1, and OH atoms to share electrons in order to complete the octet requirement. Such an ideal structure should give H-O-H bond angle of 109.5°, but the lone pairs repel each other more than they repel the O-H bonds. In isotopic water, the O-H bonds are pushed closer, making the H-O-H angle less than 109°. For each hydrogen bond, shown by a rod joining the oxygen atoms, lies one proton in an asymmetric position Bond lengths, 275 pm, are indicated.
HOH(l) + HOH(l) = H3O+ + OH-
This is an equilibrium process and is characterised by an equilibrium constant,
K'w: = [H3O+] [OH-]
pKw = -log Kw DG (water) = - n
F E = -237.13 kJ
This opens the door to the creation of C-H bonds.Petroleum products are mainly compounds of only two elements: carbon (C) and hydrogen (H), thus called hydrocarbons. Liquid hydrocrabons are generally those with 4 – 20 carbon atoms. The carbon atom has four bonds that can unite with either one or more other carbon atoms (a property almost unique to carbon) or with atoms of other elements. A hydrogen atom has only one bond and can never unite with more than one other atom. As the molecular structure becomes characterized by denser carbon atoms complex "stacking" occurs on the carbon skeleton.Carbon is present in most organic matter. At temperatures above 230 C, when isotopic water (superheated steam at this temperature) is present with organic carbon, the heavier alkanes dearrange through catalytic cracking, and H-C bonds begin to form. The reactions occurring in this process are complex. Most, but not all, convert the organic carbon to simple and subsequently more complex hydrocarbons with loss of hydrogen gas. Among them are:
18XOC + H2O HC=CH + 6H2 + 6O2
HC=CH + 6H2 + 6H2O HC=CH + 3H2 + 6O2
2CH4 HC=CH + 6H2,
2CH4 HC=CH + 6H2,
2CH4 HC=CH + 6H2,
C2H6 H2C=CH2 + H2.
C3H8(g) H2C=CH2 + CH4,
C3H8(g) H2C=CHCH3 + H2.
Propene.

Holy Spirits

I am often intrigued by the politicking, bitterness, anger and the rest of the bad stuff that thrives in so-called spiritual organisations. People in these outfits should have a burning desire to uplift themselves through proper conduct and constant and vigilant spiritual sadhana. But is it not weird to see precisely the opposite happening in these groups ? A casual observation reveals people in no rush to move along in the inward path. Some leaders are no exception either. What do we make of these occurrences ? In some way they detract from the credibility of the organisation in itself. When we see the type of wheeling and dealing more suited to political groups ?

Your guess would be as good as mine as to whether these people have ulterior motives. Some of their actions cannot stand up to scrutiny of any standard.
And I am not talking of what they do privately, which to me is none of any body's business. Some of the shenanigans of these spirits reads like a script from a bad movie.

You know the organization is on the brink of defeating its own raison d’etre when you see rampant acts, largely selfishly motivated.

On the other hand, should we accept these people and what they do in the spirit of “equanimity” ? What they do is their business, and it only matters to me how I take these acts ?

One of the tests of spiritual success which I often apply is the “aftertaste test”. How do you feel after the event. Bitter ? Angry ? Disgusted ? Fail.
Serene, forgiving, ascribing the best of motives for the other guy’s failings, unaffected by it all? Pass.

This approach would transform these elements to catalysts for our own spiritual progress.

I

I
AM
N O T
S E E N
O F T EN
EN OUG H
CA R I NGLY
PA MPER I NG
WIFE OR SONS
BUT GENERALLY
OBST I NATELY
& SELF I SHLY
ORB I T I NG
W I T H I N
COMFORT
Z ONE S
M A DE
F OR
ME
!

da cook

A cook they hadde with them for the foodes
To boille the vendais with the urulais,
And poudre-chilly, puli and mancha podie.
Wel groundt coconot and paruppu, a touch of asafoetida.
He kooked and roastet, and broilled, and fryed,
Makin the most delishius meales.
But greet harm was it, as it thoughte me,
That on this great feaste we all engorged.
And developed the beestly sickenesses that forewer cursed us.

(apologies to G Chaucer)

The Sorry Tale of Mark Anton

Thunder and lightning and torrential rain. Enter MARK ANTON, in his pyjamas.

MARK: Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night: Many times hath the rumbling in my tummy awoken me. How is a man to get his rest ?

Enter a Servant

Servant : My lord?

MARK: Go order a pizza. Extra cheese. And fetch me my tomato juice. Pronto.

Servant : I will, my lord.

Exit Servant. Mark continues to pace. He occasionally looks at his watch.

The time approaches V o’clock.

Enter Mark’s wife, Anna Purnia. She is carrying Dilpo, her poodle.

ANNA : What meanst thou, Mark? Walking about at this hour of the night? You have slept not one wink this night, and worse, disturbed my beauty sleep.
Not to mention Dilpo’s too.

MARK : Mark shall do as we please: the things that threaten'd me
Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see The face of Mark, they are vanished.

ANNA: Ithu ungalukkeh romba overa theriyalla ?

Ringing tone. Mark picks up the phone.

MARK (Speaking into phone): Who speaketh, interrupting Mark at this unearthly hour ?
(after a few moments of silence, puts down the phone)

MARK: Wrong number.

Re-enter Servant

MARK: What, whither the pizza? And the tomato juice ?

Servant : Sir, the pizza joint answers not. But your drink is here. And my Lord, please leaveth me in peace for the rest of the night.

Exit Servant

MARK : The gods do this in shame of cowardice:Mark should be a beast without a heart,If he should stay hungry because of the pizza joint, which answers not.
No, Mark shall not be cowed.
Anna, thou shalt forthwith make a pizza
To appease the rumblings of my tummy,
that have now become audible
To all and sundry

ANNA: Alas, my lord,“Your wish is my command.”
Appidinnu solluvennu ninaichingala ?
Go fly a kite.
Come on, Dilpo, lets go. Anna leaves with Dilpo in tow.

Mark looks at them go.

Mark sighs, picks up remote, and switches on the TV. He settles on the couch. His tummy continues to rumble.

Mark soliloquises:
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler for the tummy to suffer
The slings and arrows of an outrageous servant,
And the insulting wife(And the dog too)
Or to take up arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing, end them?
The tummy -ache and the thousand sharp pangs
The pangs of hunger, the pizza guy’s treachery
The insolence of the wife, servant and dog
Thus life doth make cowards of us all;
Why don’t I just raid the fridge ?
(apologies to Bill)

Appu

They called him Appu. He lived under the bridge, his worldly possessions packed neatly in a shopping cart. The first thing he did on waking up was look around him, and laugh heartily. Next he would wash himself at the standpipe near the public toilet, and dress up neatly in his old but clean clothes.

The hawkers at the market would often take pity on him, and give him the left-overs, which was breakfast, lunch and dinner for Appu. Seeing the crumbs, he would laugh. All day long, he cruised the streets, watching the world, and laughing in joy.

Some called him a crazy old man. They made fun of him. They gave him the spoilt food. Some of the youngsters would push him. Some would throw small stones at him. And they would all laugh at the fun they were having. Appu would laugh with them. He loved them all. His was a happy and carefree life.

“He lives well who laughs often, loves much and sacrifices his own happiness for others.”

Music appreciation

At a recent idle outing with the wife to a musical concert, I found out that I was more ignorant than I had hitherto believed. I found out how much I did not know about South Indian Carnatic music. The music exponent was a lady (in her late 50’s), a Professor of Music. Between renditions of pleasing numbers, she spoke effortlessly about South Indian Classical music theory. And all around me, the audience seemed to comprehend the Professor’s words, which was all the more humbling. I enjoyed listening to the song & music, but realised that this was a deeply meaningful art. It could even be said to border on the sciences.
In a second recent occasion, a young lady played the Sitar. At that moment if anyone had asked me, I couldn’t have confirmed if it was a Sitar or a Veena. Later I discovered that calling a Sitar a Veena wouldn’t be that wrong. My research enlightened me that in Sanskrit, a stringed instrument is generically referred to as a vina, which I guess is close enough.
My research then led me to the fact that the ancients of India categorised Veenas into two categories, Tat and Vitat. These mean plucked and unplucked respectively. Although this to me conjured up sickening images of chickens, plucked means using the fingers (or some contraptions attached to them), as when playing the Sitar, Veena, Sarod, Tanpura or Sarangi (I am almost literate now), while unplucked means using a bow (such as in a violin).
The Sitar has two bridges (meaningful to me), and on the upper bridge there are seven strings; four for playing the melody, and three for rhythmic variations and resonance. The lower bridge carries 13 sympathetic strings, all for resonance and occasional plucking.
My casual observation before this gave me the impression that there were at most 2 strings, and no bridges to talk about.
Coming back to this young lady, who looked quite frail, I was concerned that the heavy Sitar was going to crush her under its weight. I did marvel at how she effortlessly (though delicately) carried the thing. But now I find that a Sitar weighs next to nothing. The huge bulbous end is really a hollow gourd. In fact, the Sitar player is advised to balance the instrument between the player's left foot and right knee (takes a contortionist to do this).
I also found that learning to play the sitar is not easy. Apparently the beginner has to endure painful days, he or she begins to develop the hard calluses and black grooves on the fingers, which typify the sitar player.
And this frail young lady managed to produce a soothing melody, even by the standards of this author, which is saying something.

A Poem

The man was eloquent, and said, “aalaa”,
He looked more like an armadilla ,
But his companion, a gorilla,
Always hung around this fella,
He looked like our pal, dracula,
Going straight for the jugula.

They called her kamala,
There was kalimannu, her mandela,
Inside, not much massala,
To say she was hopeless, nyayamilla,
But her exact IQ, enakku therilla,
But today, donno why, she varalla,

What’s my point, you asking la ?

Onnumeh illa la, onnumeh illa.

CONVERSATIONS

Jana was sitting in his small but cosy living room. His wife Suja sat across from him, while his 10 year old daughter Vinny sat on the carpet at their feet. Their teenage son Jeevan was sprawled on the armchair.

Suja: “I heard you met up with your old boss today?”

Jana smiled to himself, “He is in trouble now”.

Suja looked at him.

Jana: “I warned him many times that this would happen, but he never listened”

Vinny, who had been silent for while spoke suddenly : “Why do you say that?”

Jana just grunted.

Jeevan looked at him for a moment.

Suja : “He is such a nice man. And he deserves it”

Vinny : “You always say such things”

Jana : “That’s not the point at all. He just pushes his luck, and this time he pushed it too far”

Vinny : “That’s a nasty thing to say”

Suja: “Of course we feel good when such things happen to people we know.”

Vinny: “I just don’t think that’s right”

Jana : “What do you think we should do ? Rescue him ?”

Suja: “Is he at Kamunting ?”

Jana: “He could go to hell for all I care”

Vinny: “I just don’t want to be a part of this. Just leave me out. Bye Nimmi.”.

Suja: “Ok, Bye Sangeeta. We will meet up sometime.”

Jana: “Well, Prabhu, you go ahead and help him, I wont. Bye.”
Jana turned to his wife: “Krishnan is in trouble with loan sharks. Prabhu wants to help out. I told him I am not lifting a finger. Krishnan, he is incorrigible.”

Vinny: “Mom, I hate Nimmi. She is such a gossip.”

Suja: “Jana dear, I just spoke to Sangeeta. Her ex-boss Vino, remember him ? He has been promoted to Branch Manager. He is posted to Kamunting, so near his hometown. So lucky.”

Jana grunted. But he didn’t hear anything. He was dialing again. Vinny fiddled with the iPod. Jeevan glanced at them, and went back to his messaging. Suja picked up the Astro remote.

Are all religions the same?

Recently I came across an article by Dr. Frank Morales, who is a well read authority, whose fields of expertise include Philosophy of Religion, Hindu Studies, Sanskrit, History of Religion, Comparative Theology, Contemporary South Asian Politics, and the interface between Hinduism and modernity. Wow.
He has also been a practicing orthodox Hindu for 30 years, and is an ordained Hindu priest. But he is not Indian !
The article basically talks about the supposed Hindu teaching that all religions are equal…that all religions are the same, with the same purpose, goal and object of ultimate devotion.
Dr Morales argues eloquently that this is not so.
He says Hinduism is tolerant, patient and welcoming of all religions. But this does not amount to admitting that all religions are exactly the same.
Dr Morales defines a Hindu as an individual who accepts as authoritative the religious guidance of the Vedic scriptures, and who strives to live in accordance with Dharma, God’s divine laws as revealed in the Vedic scriptures.
He identifies three important factors that differentiate the nature of various religions:
a) The Problem : an analysis of the fundamental existential dilemma that human beings face,
b) The Solution : the proposed escape from our existential problem,
c) The Absolute : the nature of the ultimate Reality.
The following is worth quoting (I have taken the liberty of striking out some of the more difficult words, to ease the pain of reading Dr Morales original text):
“Different religions are clearly aiming at different, most often mutually exclusive, goals. For Judaism, Christianity and Islam, the human person is seen as a sinner who is in need of repentance, divine forgiveness and renewal. The Absolute for them is a single Godhead.
For Buddhism, it is taught that the human person is unnecessarily experiencing suffering due to mistakenly perceiving herself as an enduring, self-conscious entity. Liberation, in Buddhism, begins with the realization that there is no eternal self (no soul), but only momentary states that give the illusion of a permanent person. The final extinction of the human person in the form of nirvana (literally "blowing out") is thus the goal. The Absolute is correlated with Shunya, the void, emptiness. For Buddhism, there is no God, no soul, nor any other permanent metaphysical reality.
For Hinduism, the human dilemma is caused by ignorance (avidya) of our true state as permanent spiritual beings (atman), and our illusion (maya) of separation from the Absolute. Liberation (moksha) is achieved by transcending this illusion, and by realizing our inherent union (yoga) with the Absolute. Speaking in the most general of terms, the Absolute in Hinduism is termed Brahman.
For Jainism, the human dilemma is caused by our mistaken notion that we are dependent, temporary beings with limited knowledge. Liberation (kevala) is achieved when we realize our true nature as independent, eternal and omniscient beings. For Jainism, there is no God, but rather independently existing liberated persons are the Absolute.”
Dr Morales argues that these different religions are wholly irreconcilable. It is as logically impossible to hold that these religions are all true, or even that any two of these religions are simultaneously true, he says. Is it then his implication that there is only one True religion ?
The point is whether Hinduism teaches that all religions are the same. I think Hinduism or Sanatana Dharma is unique and different from all other religions, and here I agree with the author. I also agree that Hinduism in itself does not teach that all religions are equal… Could this be because Hinduism predates almost all other religions ?
But all religions assert that their own exclusive path holds a clearer insight into Truth, and a surer means for salvation, than does any other faith on earth. So the more important points is whether we can accept that other religions are valid paths to the “Truth” ? This is the spiritual view we are taking.
Here I believe that all religions are right. But, this is not a zero sum game. It need not be that there is only one “right” religion and the rest are wrong , or less right. Taking the Mountain metaphor, I would say:
"Truth lies at the summit of a very high mountain. There are many diverse paths to reach the top of the mountain, and thus attain the one supreme goal. Some paths are shorter, some longer. The path itself is unique to the person following it, for the given point in his evolutionary life (over many lifetimes), and each one must aspire to follow his given path. The truly important thing is that seekers all follow their respective given paths to reach the top of the mountain."

Weakened by the weekend

Friday night. The weekend loomed. My thoughts were of the EVENT, which had a dramatic impact due to its dogma. The EVENT itself required a thorough reassessment, using authentic definitive methodologies. By no means was it an exaggeration to say that the stereotypes and false notions we encounter obviously present a grotesque philosophical foundation, with inexplicable mysteries clouding the time horizon. More disturbing, wild misconceptions are prevalent, purportedly giving an alarmingly peculiar ennui. The EVENT presented concepts which ascribed experientially tangible yearning for peace. And this in itself artificially transformed the supposed foundation stone in a dogmatic self-defeating philosophy. As I lay awake contemplating this relativism in infantile self-revulsion, Saturday dawned.
As the day wore on, zealously intrinsic fallacies wrought havoc. My inborn sensibility was searching frantically for strenuously convincing reasons and a cogent philosophical explanation. But the fallacy was alarmingly simplistic. The EVENT weighed on my mind, already riddled with doctrines from all angles of human synonymy (if there is such a word).
Saturday night. Ha ha. But more of the same. More sectarian bending over backwards, unapologetically celebrating our headlong rush to devolve the transcendent singular uniqueness thrust upon us. The strong impetus to discern common features was a form of chauvinism in itself. It was cherished, despite its damaging inadequacies. Remarkably, Sunday dawned, with the rising sun bringing hope. But, awakening to the realities of the day was a stark and sad indicator, cogently formidable in its intellectual paradigm.
How could one juxtapose the EVENT with the subjugated soul? It was a severely undermining theory, concocting thoughts all the while eclipsed in the weekend stupor, as we attempt the final assault, on what we believe is the pinnacle.
Astoundingly, Sunday passed in a idyllic reverie. What rational maxims can one use to explain these fleetingly pleasant moments ? Or should they be relegated to the bin of all those which are manifestly untrue, a purposeless and amorphous entity ? The weekend, with its pretentious sheen will see its inevitable demise. And soon. It was Sunday night.
It is my contention that there are glaring inconsistencies inherent in such an untenable position. They are to our detriment, brought about through gratuitous irrationality. Why should we thoughtlessly succumb to the mind-numbing influence of these sort of things ? Who, after all, wants to exult in greatness if perceived fallacious ?
Monday morning, thankfully.

Sycophants

Why does it have to happen to me ? But then thinking of it, why not ? The probabilities are not biased. When God created us, He didn’t play favourites. And although there is talk of karma, the leash is long enough and elastic enough for each of us. Its in our heads anyway. Each of us decides.

The reason for all this is often obvious in the absence of reason. After all, what is the purpose of existence ? A self-serving evolution right ? The fittest survive to sharpen themselves through their respective karmic repayments. And when we say God is a witness, its just that everything happens by the rules He has set. So we believe. And He himself exists by those rules. When you think about it, its really nothing out of nothing. As it says in the Vedas, Aditi begat Aditi. And Aditi Herself was never begotten, and neither did she beget. But Aditi begat Aditi.
But what does the title have to do with all these ? Well, nothing ;-)

Music Therapy

In Carnatic music, more than in any other, localized inflexions with average pitch lead to the perception of microtones. Some inflexions can function as pure ornamentations, espedially those in vogue today. Many people think of them as distinct sthanams and localized inflexions or “gamakams”. Musicologists often argue that pitch inflexions are inextricably coupled with similar multi-dimensional phenomena.

If one picks up a typical book on Carnatic music theory and starts reading, more often than not, he or she will encounter melodic graces, that do not have any direct connection with these microtones. Upon hearing actual music, ubiquitously and systematically, it would be quite strange without them to a seasoned listener. Technically inclined listeners might find that different musicians use different “sruthis” and assign different ratios/rationals/relative frequencies. Indeed, based on consonance relationships, string harmonics and string lengths, various people have derived a lot of numbers that have some underlying meanings or significance, which may escape the casual listener. The perception of microtonal intervals sometimes enables one to reconcile these issues.

Virtually, inflexions are a synonym for an audible sound preceding a “tryamb”. Connotations on this in ancient treatises are distinctly cognizable and served as a qualitative unit simultaneously. The acoustic cue is subjective and the idea of a distinctly conservative mathematical idealization with synthetic tones is relevant to renditions, and perceivable by most people. Without any hesitation we would lump harmonies and consonance under tonic and key modulations.

In explicitly endorsed representations, this should be used to characterize and categorize them and in chromatic consonance.

Contemporary Carnatic music can be traced to generally contain fewer melakartas and most have flaws in organization. While Thyagaraja used a later scheme devised by Govindacharya, he did not believe that melakartas must be of simple sampoorna arohanam but favored the idea of calling a raga as a melakarta. This leads to a system which is more elegant from a mathematical viewpoint. In this scheme, the arohanams arise out of systematic permutation of the seven swaras. It is a product of mathematical abstraction and it is of no consequence as far as the organization of the melakartas is concerned.

Full Moon

The moon was full. They say the full moon exterts a magnetic pull of the waters in our body (and brain) bringing on a little lunacy in all of us during such periods. Actually the moon is always there : full and round. Its just that at times we cant see the fulness due to the shadow cast on it. Then why do they say the full moon has a greater effect on our mind? Surely a misconception ?

Anyway, the moon was full. Ravenous capricity was the order of the day. Surely this would have flown in the face of the accepted theories of human endeavour ? Where else can you expect fairness and justice ? It was really a conundrum. In general, utopian gregariousness is preferred as a consciencious choice. Permissiveness will not get us anywhere. A building has integrity just like a man. And just as seldom. And a creative man is motivated by the desire to achieve, not by the desire to beat others. Desire presupposes the possibility of action to achieve it; action presupposes a goal which is worth achieving. So said Ayn Rand.

I guess the full-moon theory does have its merits.

The fall out

The results are in. As expected, BN has been given a good thrashing. Samyvelu is out, as are many of his MIC henchmen. And the so-called multiracial Gerakan party, which fielded an all-Chinese team, was completely wiped out in Penang, the State where it was formed, and which it led since 1969. The BN's 2/3 , which it was using for flimsy reasons such as amending the constitution to allow the Election Commision chief to retire later, was taken away. An unprecedented number of over 80 opposition parliamentarians will grill the incoming BN Government, and keep it on its toes. As expected, Kelantan fell to PAS, with a much enhanced majority - a clear message by the Kelantanese (maybe even those who went by the BN chartered buses voted PAS). And Penang fell to the DAP/PKR/PAS loose alliance. This, many expected would happen. But there was more: BN lost the State Governments in Kedah, Perak and Selangor as well. This was unbelievable at first, but turned out to be true.

Makkal Sakti had triumphed !

Personally I had been hoping that BN's brute majority would be reduced, in Parliament and in all States, but I really wanted BN to be the ruling party everywhere. With sufficient opposition members to question things and keep them in check. I thought that would be best for everyone. But obviously the "makkal" had other ideas.

Now it appears that DAP/PKR will collaborate and form the State Governments in Penang (DAP leading), Perak & Selangor (PKR leading). PAS / PKR wil form the Kedah State Government while of course PAS will take Kelantan.

What I hope for now is that the PKR/DAP/PAS people get theri act together, remember what they were fighting against, and avoid any petty squabbles. These are likely to surface through BN efforts as well as naturally : power tends to corrupt. Do a great job, and show the people that they made the right choice. Dont get into a vindictive situation. Make this the beginnings of a great political grouping, cutting across race, for all Malaysians. Show that you dont have to be Malay to fight against injustice towards Malays, or Chinese to voice out Chinese issues or Indian to scream for Indian rights. You just have to be a Malaysian with a heart, who will fight for rights of all, solve everyone's issues and against all injustice.

Go do it.

Limits

What is the beginning of time, or end for that matter. Or is such a concept is beyond human comprehension? But maybe Time is not a straight line after all. It could be a loop. Or even a fuzzy shape ? Without a beginning or end ? This is not so amazing, as the clock does go in a circle, so why cant time do so as well ? Of course there is a difference between Time and the way we measure Time. We see things in terms of past present and future. So what happened in the “pastest” time ? ie, in the beginning ? And what happened before that ? If we define the beginning as the point of time at which everything began, then by definition, nothing happened before that. And that is unimaginable. And could there be an end to Time? And after that nothing would happen ? Or is it that if we are not there, it doesn’t matter ?

And what about space ? If we keep moving in a straight direction out to space, of course going around planets and other obstructions that may get in our way, where would we reach in the end ? Again the concept of end. If we have all the time in the world, chances are we would keep going. But what IS out there ? Out thoughts can move fast enough. But our mind cannot comprehend what it could be like out there. Maybe it’s a fuzzy loop too ? Difficult to believe ? After all, not so long ago people could not believe the world was round. Their depth of knowledge and experience at that time made the concept of a round world an absurd concept. What if by traveling long enough, far enough, we would actually reach back here, where we started. Of course the place would be unrecognizable by then, so it would be just another “new” place, and we may not know we have arrived. After all, what defines this point of space ? Only a relative positioning is possible. But if everything is changing, in the large units of time and space we are talking about, then even the concept of “here” and “now” are meaningless anyway.

What if it is really true that all this is just Maya…. And just exists in our conscience ? In fact all you people don’t really exist. Its just me, imagining that I am writing this blog and that all of you are reading it. And that would at least explain why I am unabashedly confessing my ignorance to the world. Its all just a figment of my imagination.
And the final question : why ? What is the point of all this anyway ?
And in all this, where is God ? The Brahman…. said to be the unchanging, infinite, immanent, and transcendent reality which is the Divine Ground of all matter, energy, time, space, being, and everything beyond in this Universe. Is this all His dream then ? Is he able to dream for all of us, in such a way that the interplay of our dreams and “existence” and everything is really His dream ? And what about Him ? Our limits tend to think of Him as a being, in fact, we even have to consider Him a male, using the term “Him”. In fact Brahman is just the Dream. Like it is said . He is the dreamer, the dream, and everything in the dream.

And another reaction....

And another reaction (apologies to Mr Browne)

Consternation & jurisprudence

One wonders what would be the end of it all. It does seem appropriate to question the antics of those who seem hell bent of wreaking the effects of political expediency on human survival... Especially those which wither away after a heavy down pour of political fallout. What can we make of such creatures ? These origins can be found from the oldest of scriptures. Maybe it started off as a meditation tool for attaining self realization. But we are painfully cognizant of the fact that all different forms of these unsavory events are believed to affect various chakras. However, there is little mention of these esoteric beliefs among aficionados who discuss these nether matters while sipping their cup of wine, and intoxicant and mendicant to soothe their own brains. The first treatise laying down these fundamental principles are still in existence, though available mainly to an elite audience.
This philosophy of assumptions, foundations, and implications is defined by an interest in one of a set of "traditional" problems or an interest in central or foundational concerns. We can certainly justify using contemporary results in science to draw philosophical morals. While most practitioners are philosophers, several prominent scientists have (and do) contribute to this most rewarding field of human endeavour.
The central driving force of capitalism, according to Marx, was also in consonance with what was expounded by Engels. In the exploitation and alienation of music, and the human plebeians, the ultimate source of the new profits and value-added was that the market forces put paid to all claims of fair play, and the jurisdictional conflicts that was not anticipated by our founding fathers. This is worrying indeed. What if the value of the product exceeded that market value. Would that entitle one to appropriate the new regions, as if they were his own ?
However, we are very concerned with the social aspects of this repudiation of values. How and under what circumstances can the anesthetic impact of such economic mollycoddling be justified, especially looking from the moral high ground ? It is an object useful to somebody else, but with a trading value for the owner. Sanctimonious deferral will get us nowhere. Political economy, which was originally thought of as a "moral science" concerned with the just distribution of wealth, or as a "political arithmetic" for tax collection, gave way to the separate disciplines of economic science, law and ethics, as well as geography. Even History could be rewritten.
Alas, we long for the justice that only time can bring.

The world reacts

Thousand Apologies to Mr Scott.....

WHY

The mob blocked the path of the van. Rev Valos looked at his wife, Wheila. Wheila was cradling their little daughter, who was fast asleep, oblivious to the scene outside. Wheila was scared. So was Rev Valos. He looked at the mob. They looked angry, and were gesticulating and speaking loudly in local lingo.Valos put his hand on the door handle. He was about to go out of the van. He wanted to talk to the people outside. Wheila stopped him. “No. Don’t leave. Its safer here.”Some of the more boisterous of the group was now pushing against the van. The van was buffeted and rocked.Wheila was terrified. Valos was praying. The little girl was asleep.Paavaaan, the God of the Philistians heard Valos’s prayer. He knew what was happening. Even before He heard their prayer. Even before it happened. The van with his followers surrounded by the angry group. Flashback 3 months. Rev Valos had arrived in Maniba with his family. His mission was to bring God to the pagan Manibans. A noble mission. Paavaaan blessed Rev Valos then. Or so Valos thought. “Go forth and Just do it,” He commanded Valos in a prayer session. Or so Valos thought. And Valos did just that. He successfully converted hundreds of Manibans to Philistianity. Paavaaan was pleased. Or so Valos thought.But the Manibans were not pagans. At least they themselves did not think so. They were followers of Haubaah and a thousand other Gods, too numerous to enumerate. Most Manibans knew only a handful of their Gods. But they were convinced that their religion was the greatest, but to the simpletons among them, Philistianity was more attractive, especially since the Philistian preacher Valos and his wife and family looked so attractive and fashionable. These simple folks wanted to associate with the “classy” Philistians. Who knows, maybe they may even embrace the converts and take them back to their country, a place of plenty, where the streets are paved with gold, and money grows on trees, and the people are so beautiful and loving.The Manibans prayed to Haubaah and all their other thousand Gods. “Please help us fight these barbarians, who are insulting our religion and our Gods, and converting our people”. Haubaah heard their prayer. He knew what was happening. Even before He heard their prayer. Even before it happened. He did not say yes. Neither did He say no. In short, He did not answer. He was not happy. Neither was He sad. In short He was.The mob had brought out iron rods, which they used to beat the van. Soon the windows gave way. Valos prayed, hugging his wife and child. Wheila screamed hysterically. The child had woken up but was shocked into silent sobs.A molotov cocktail landed inside the van. The cheap plastic upholstery caught fire and blazed in a ball of fire. Soon the van was engulfed. The mob watched. Their cries and screams were silenced as they heard the terrible wailing of the family being burnt to death. They watched in silence. As the fire died down, a deathly silence engulfed the area. Slowly they walked away.As they walked away, some among them were filled with a sickening loathing. What had they done ? Would Haubaah be pleased ? Not at all. How can a God be pleased when His followers perpetuate barbaric acts ? The spark of Haubaah struggled to come forth from deep inside them. Others felt they had taught a good lesson to the Philistian barbarians. Maybe from now onwards they would stop insulting the Manibans and their Gods. Haubaah would be pleased. In a small town in far away Nacada, Valos’s parents sat in silence with Wheila’s mother. They were overwhelmed with grief. Why ? Why ? Why ? Why had Paavaaan deserted his servants in their hour of need ?Haubaah was in deep contemplation. He heard. He knew. But He did not answer. For He was Haubaah. He was Paavaaan. In short, He was.