Grandmother to granddaughter - in the tradition of listening to stories on the lap of Patti.'

 Sharing thoughts with Kailu.

You have read about the 'Brave women of India'. Sure, you have your questions about who did they fight against and why. I guess, Abakka is your favourite woman, am I right?

When something of your own is taken away from you without your permission, how would you react? Can anyone tell you, "This is what you should like; you should walk, talk, sleep, play and read only as I choose."?

Young people like you observe, think and understand a lot from all the life around you. So, when we say, August 15th, is Independence Day of India and we celebrate it every year in schools, offices, many other places and at homes too!. 

Can you share your ideas about what is Independence for you? How do you want to celebrate it?

I think of all the people - some known and popular, but a lot more people, not known by us and forgotten - who fought to be free of the control by the British. Today, how can we protect and appreciate this independence for me and others too. 

As a mark of my remembering all those people, I drew a kolam in front of the house.

 

You remember my friend, Sudha patti, don't you? She has drawn this design.  Doesn't her design look like the Chakra on our flag? 

 

Be free to find your joy and happiness in loving all creatures. 

Land of Ahoms

y

Nomami Brahmoputro!

We were tired then we were wired with so many ideas and plans for the next one and half days. So many choices - that's what we thought! There were ladies who wanted to go to particular textile shop; another group were holding on to the idea of a whole sale bazaar... the guide was trying to run his idea through (he was pointing out the situation on ground)

There are local friends who have suggested places to visit and significantly specified ideal places for shopping. Shopping..? "clang! the wheels rolled and clicked in place" For many of us women, it evoked an exciting image, a lovely feeling and a thrill.

But then, distances, time and the interests of all in the group have to be considered not to mention if any additional expenses are involved.

The first day till lunch was set aside for another special darshan of Maa Kamakhya. After seeing the way, the Pujaris at the temple aggressively demand money from us, I felt disinclined to make the second visit. One of the friends in the travel group has arranged for special puja and got saree to be draped on the Goddess. I thought let me try to ignore the pujaris and focus on the worship of Shakthi.

All of us decided to go through the common waiting counter; started early. As soon as the gate for the waiting hall opened, we went inside.  There were quite a number of devotees with utmost faith, chanting the names of Goddess every now and then. The barricaded and winding counters reminded me of Thirupathi. When we could sit for about 30 minutes, we chanted Lalitha Sahasranamam'  together. Many in our group were chanting Devi Sthuthis all through the waiting.

All these together with the morning hour, perhaps prepared me to go inward to that quiet space within. The churning inside slowed down and a sense of calm spread from head to toe.

I could mute the loud call of the pujaris almost ordering us to seek the blessings of different deities and move forward. When we needed to go down the uneven wet steps deep inside the cave, I felt a little tense. A suggestion given by one of the friends in the group to 'let go' and adopt a complete surrender (to the divine force) resonated with my mental frame. The pujaris there tried to hurry us and push us but that moment when I knelt and my forehead touched the water that continuously seeped into the ground...! - something shifted in me and for a very brief moment I felt so light  yet energised.

We gathered outside and when I turned to thank the person who had arranged for the puja and darshan, my eyes welled up and I was speechless. ( It came as a great shock and surprise to me because I normally cannot show emotions like that to every one.). This complete surrender,utter devotion and  feeling so secure within the embrace of Mother(the all pervading force) shook me! 

However, I am not a great 'Bhaktha and so it was a brief interlude.

Kamakhya temple is the main temple in a huge temple complex in which there are temples for other forms of Shakthi ( They are called 10 Mahavidhyas). We went up and down climbing lot of steps to visit the temples of Kali, Bhairavi, Tara, Chhinnamasta and others. Then we went a little up on the Neelachal Hill to offer our prayers to goddess Baglamukhi.
When we got back it was time to plan for the afternoon or evening trip. There ensued an interesting discussion about the choices and the time to cover them. Many of us, (ah... the magic word!) wanted a  shopping foray (like a teaser for the next day main event, perhaps?) for about 3 hours. 

Three hours, did I say? About forty women and 3 X 60 minutes - how is it a workable combination? By the time we reach a shopping area and get the first taste of the smells, sounds and colours of the area, it would be more than 2 hours.  अभी ड्रामा  तौ शुरू भी नहीं हुआ ! 

After much discussions, we decided to have the darshan of the Mighty (Is it still?) Brahmoputra at sunset and enjoy a boat ride.

It is still three months before the monsoon comes for his annual meeting with his friend, Brahmoputra. Do you know, Brahmoputra is personified as a male devatha unlike all other river goddesses?

I had seen that stretch of Akhanda Kaveri near Trichirapalli in Tamil Nadu. The river is wide and broad just at the beginning of delta near a place called Kulithalai. It is a magnificent sight to behold! (When the monsoon is happy to pay the regular visit along the ghats and the catchment area fills up to the brim) 

I know certainly that this southern belle is no comparison to this eastern giant and so we can appreciate the huge amount of water (it would look so for us who are water-starved!) even in March. Perhaps the cultural and social tradition of looking at these rivers as divine has a deep root in me. The first sight of the river made me pause and think of the 1000s of years it is flowing - witnessing the many upheavals, celebrations and losses of people along its banks. It has sustained, nurtured and also caused destruction in its wake. I remembered all those Film division documentaries which used to play before a film in the movie halls (long ago) which would show flood in Bihar, Assam and other such places. Still, the breeze blowing across the water reminded me of a loving and nurturing father. 

We went on a boat ride to Umananda Devaloi (temple) in the middle of the river, located on a small riverine island called Umananda island or Peacock island.  The temple is on a small hillock known as Bhasmacala or Bhasmakuta.

 

There are interesting legends built around the hillock and the temple like the one which describes Kamadeva disrupting the meditation of Shiva and as a result being burnt to ashes by the anger of Shiva. Hence the hillock got the name - Bhasmakuta. Interesting, right? Every stone, a bend in the tree, the shape of a mountain, birth of a river, the onset of rains  or a lonely boulder standing in a barren landscape - you name it, there would be at least 4 or 5 different stories to explain the presence of the phenomenon! At present, whether we spin such stories rich in history, myth, culture and social beliefs or not, our ancestors definitely had perfected the art of story making and telling! 

A climb consisting of about 80 to 100 steps leads us to the main temple. Despite so many tourists moving about, the serenity of the place with the ever present drizzle just soaked me completely. The view with endless water of the river reflecting the changing hues of the sun and the sky was breath taking. We made this trip post lunch  and siesta. The whole day, it was cloudy with occasional showers. There was a foggy, misty sort of cover over the river. Late in the day, perhaps the Sun god thought of marking his attendance and looking over the city, the people and the river. So, there was the Sun coming out for a brief span of time to give us a glimpse of the magic of sun set, touching a spark to the river. 

(We had to return within an hour to be on the steamer as  that may be the last ferry trip of the day. We worked out that we had about 30 to 35 minutes for climbing up and down. It put many of us in a jam - would we be able to do it or we would delay others. Hey! aren't we the 'naarishakthi'? Most of us have faced tough situations and emerged successfully out of them, haven;t we? Yes, looked at each other and drew strength from one another, put our foot forward, swung our arms and up we went! And.... what a sight to behold! There is not the usual hustle bustle associated with the temples at popular tourist spots. By then the late afternoon sun was bathing the island and the water around in a golden hue. There is that silence among the trees, plants and all natural objects that engulf every being during the gap in a rainy spell.

  

We made it down to the boat in time for the ride back. The Sun put up that magic show on the sky and on the water surface so that we can go home happily! 

It may not be like the setting after a clear day still it was spectacular!    

The following shows the setting sun, the sky and the river one merging with the other in a celebration from some other time by someone else!

 (https://beyondlust.in/tag/umananda-temple/)

I fell in love with the attitude of the woman selling 'bhutta' on the shore and could not resist the temptation to click a picture of that look!  Of course, bought a corncob from her!                              

Now, what about shopping? Anyone - game for some sightseeing?

The women in the  group are resourceful and enterprising! So what if we could not go out shopping? The shops could come to us , couldn't they? This friend, Geetha, has local connections and can 'katha bala' (কথা বলা) in Bangla. So she was trying to get the special things of Assam  for us. After an evening along the shores of Brahmoputra,  a person dealing in designer jewellery, brought a large collection of bracelets, trinkets, rings, chains, dangler ear pieces and many more. We just 'window shopped' (if i could use the word!). It was getting late and it as well past bed time. So called it a day and turned in for a good night's sleep. So much to look forward to, the next day. 

Don't know what is it with shopping and women! Our roommate who was down with fever and cough, perked up in the morning for the shopping. I could sense high energy buzzing around us all. 

We went around Pragjyoti Assam Emporium, Silkalay and one more place. Looking at crafted items in bamboo and wood, the faces lighted up and just short of a war cry, attacked the section to get different kinds of gifts like fridge door magnets, key chains, lamp shades, bags, exquisitely created bamboo purses and some curios. 

Then there is that indescribable attraction to sarees - the beautiful muga, Eri silk varieties, crisp cotton in traditional white, cream or lemon shades, not to forget the typical Assamese Mekhela chador and shawls and stoles. Can you visualise water dammed for sometime breaking out of the restraints? In full spate and speed it would flow to fill every crevice, nook and cranny, wouldn't it? 

Yes, you guessed right. All the counters, upstairs, ground floor - wherever there was an interesting display, our friends were there! 

The very few men in the group were packed off to visit the zoo. With successful completion of 'Operation Fulfillment', now was the time for juggling the things in our suitcases to adjust the weight. We have a flight to catch in the evening to go home and we have to consider the maximum weight that we could carry. 

The city was sending us off with one big shower to cherish. 

We visited the Balaji temple on the way, had a peaceful darshan and a lovely lunch provided by the temple management. (With aromatic and tangy rasam and soothing curd!)With Perumal's blessings and prasad, we started our journey back.

The wait , suspense and strategies to tackle the problem of extra baggage was a drama in itself. Thinking back, we can laugh about it but those 30 minutes or so during 'check-in' was stressful! 

By late evening we were back to the sweltering heat of Chennai.   

AIR, concerts and me

Day after day for years, I never fail to switch on the radio to 'Chennai Vaanoli' (Madras A) station at 8.45 am for an hour of immersing in the melody and rhythm of classical music. Many  days, cooking would be dancing to the tunes flowing all around me. That is the time, I am alone with my music and cooking and with no one to disturb this engagement with music. It mostly becomes 'my time and space' and I float like a feather with all stress, questions and worries dropping off and disappearing in a smoke!

Today it was a Veena concert by Kalyani Ganesan; the seasoned Vainika and a great teacher that she is, the choice of songs and the arrangement was crisp. A lilting Hamsadvani was followed by a sedate Varali (Seshachala Nayakam); soulful Anandabhairavi of Shyama Sastri entreating Meenakshyamma to protect him ('Marivere gatiyevaramma') came after that. O...Rangasayee' in Kamboji was magnificent.

The words of the song when completely true of the feelings and ideas of the composer, are touched by a divinity, I feel. Languages never are barriers then; the feelings reach you through the right combination of notes (swaras) and the heart understands the language of true emotions.

Otherwise, how could I realise that Shyama Sastri emphasises his devotion when he sang "Mariwere gati" (Who else other than you) or recognise his complete surrender to 'Ma when he tells her, "nIvE(y)ani sadA nammiti nammitini".  Dhikshitar's Seshachala is like a simple but the special Thulasi garland - simple words with such depth of meaning evokes Bhakti within me -
" viSEsha phala pradAyakam || mandahAsa vadanam;
svachchanda hrudayasadanam; aravinda patra nayanam

"O.. Rangasayee" is utterly magical! Thyagaraja Swami's Bhakti and his immense knowledge of music becomes a powerful combination - The moment the song begins with lower octave shadjamam and calls lord Ranganatha with such familiar love of a friend as addressing a friend standing in front of us doesn't the dark handsome Lord turn from his snake bed and engulf me in his side-glance?
Whoever sings the song, I get the vision with a  sudden jumping feeling in the gut -so close and in full splendour, he directs that lopsided smile at me! - there is no one between Him and me.
That's the power of divine verse, I presume.

The artist concluded with a soothing song in Kaapi (Pazhani nindra) by Thooran in Tamil.
I was so moved today that I wanted to cherish the vision of Ranga and experience the grace of his glance! What did I do?  Listened to different versions of Rangasayee' on YouTube (of MS Amma and the unique TM Krishna rendition for about 2 hours. It was a zone of timelessness and the seamless blend of space within and outside.
 

(Muthuswamy Dhikshithar, Shyama Sastri and Thyagaraja Swami are known as 'Trinity of Carnatic music' . They were the outstanding composer-musicians of 18th century.)

Monsoon memory

Overcast sky, humid air, clean and shiny green leaves, wet ground - all the associated images of a monsoon July day in India!

With variations in shades of colour, intensity of the rain and the humidity pressing you down all over India (almost) you can feel, smell and see and experience this wonderful magical monsoon. South East coast has a separate tryst with the twin of this monsoon later. Still, July feels like this in Chennai too.

This time, my mind slides back to the days in the 1980s - I sometimes could hear the steady downpour across the slopes of Himalayas, falling over the trees on to the slushy mountain roads; a sudden gust of wind bringing the invigorating aroma of medicinal herbs and the mouth-watering smell of apples slowly ripening. Why! I could even visualise the darkness spreading during the day! And the sense of joy and excitement to be sharing this with my loving and indulgent husband!

I manage to watch the working of the mind, the myriad thoughts whirring past like fast moving slides, from outside like an observer.

It moves back to those early 1970s when I used to travel by city bus to go to college.

I am always in love with the rains and the mornings after a good spell of rain is so romantic! So I relived those moments in the bus when the bus turns around the elephant statue to climb on to the bridge across Vaigai river. Sometimes, after heavy rains water would be flowing over the lower bridge and the river would be flowing with a roar with eddies and whirls. The day to day concerns would fade away when I look at that sight.

I still remember the dreams of that young woman, the restless energy to change the world and the constant urge to break free of chains.

Continuing "This day that age" journey, I stumbled on 14th July, 1985. (If the other things are all associated with good times and emotional stability, this one definitely brought the greatest loss of my life)

It was the midst of monsoon July, (14th July, to be precise)from morning, heavy rains battered the roads of Delhi. I normally cannot cry openly in front of others. My screaming, weeping and banging - all would happen inside me and I would look blank outside. But that moment after the 21 gun salute, when the body of my husband was lifted on to the carriage with the tricolour over him, I broke down and tears streamed down like the outside downpour.

I do not know why after all these years, the scene clamoured for my attention and time. I wanted to honour the memory and played it out in my mind with that deep sense of loss of my wonderful friend and companion. I consoled that young woman, hugged her and came back here.

Musafir/wanderer/Yatri/traveller

Travel, wander, explore, move, journey, trip - how many ways I can refer to my move from point A to point B! During this long 100 days of lock down, didn't travel bug bite me, nag me? The occasional restlessness, perhaps is the distant call ?
There are armchair travels, daydreaming or like now, I can bring alive those moments by reading through my blog posts. So I did about my trips from Thiruvannamalai to Chennai and back!
Whatever be the name,  I like all the activities leading finally to the actual travel - plan the grocery, vegetables, milk and other supplies in such a way to finish them all just before travel, completing other tasks, packing and to be ready on time early in the morning!
I had been doing this road trip between these two places four to five times roughly every month for about a year and a little more - seems to be a long time ago but only till seven months back. Hm... now I definitely miss the travel!
Ah...! This is my mind moving all over -north, south, east or west touching upon one thought and jumping to the next.  Come and enjoy the ride with me!
The early morning air is always refreshing. Every creature wakes up slowly to the gentle and warm touch of the Sun, welcomes the new morning with pure joy. I look out of the window with the speeding wind against my face - all things initially were like a haze or one dark lump but slowly becoming distinct like the firm strokes of the artist's brush.
The small villages still manage to retain their quaint charm - heap of hay, smell of cattle, occasional smell of the wet farming lands and places - Pennathur, Melpappampadi, Chenji, Pakkam.... we go past these beautiful little places waking up to another new morning.
Looking at those remains of the ramparts of the great fort of Chenji is a great experience in itself. The silent spectators of kingdoms gone, how would they have been during some glorious past!
What utter lack of imagination and inability to appreciate the history - that would have driven the government to break these walls (with much difficulty, I heard) and build road connecting Chenji to to places further north and northeast like Chennai! (There are so many such half formed thoughts - some related and some others disconnected - filling my mind which would help me later in my classes)
In and through all these flashes of ideas, I feel I am part of everything around me, like the fort walls, the tall Palmyra trees, the chirpy birds, the milk man, the ladies cleaning their front yard and the distant azure mountains. I am in complete harmony there and a rare feeling of affinity shatters all barriers and in that moment of merging with all, I feel blessed and elated.
  

Magic of music.

Overcast sky, violin on the radio and morning cooking

Every morning, I thank the AIR for the one hour classical music programme for making it easy to stand in front of the stove - stirring, frying and mixing some dish or the other. Today, it was a foot tapping and hip swaying Kalyani filling the kitchen in waves after waves - from the strings of MS Gopalakrishnan and Narmada's violin. Cooking is infused with my joy (Doesn't food become tastier and healthier?) 
This is incidental, however AIR's great service in promoting our music and art forms has, for years, quenched my thirst for music and broadened my knowledge.
As a teenager, it was AIR's broadcasts of the concerts during the music season that had thrilled me. (I was not a Chennaivasi, then) I grew up feasting on Hindustani and Carnatic music of legends of yesteryear. I wanted to reproduce the Brigas, bhava or the permutation and combination of swaras that flowed and poured from their creative minds, fingers and voices.
It normally used to be the parents pushing their children to learn classical music in a typical upper class surrounding in Tamil Nadu but in my case, I begged, cajoled and convinced my patti (grand-mom) to allow me to learn. It is not that they did not appreciate classical music at home. In fact, my patti could explain the meaning of many kritis of Saint Thyagaraja or Ramadasa. Every one at home had good musical ear and my grand uncle could sing with brigas like Bhimsen Joshi. His voice sounded like that of P.B. Srinivas.

Some great musicians and patrons of my city then decided to provide easy access to ordinary people (other than the privileged upper echelon of the community) for learning classical music.
I considered it as an answer to my deep yearning and started my music learning. A very strict music teacher ensured that our base was strong and sound. The importance of Shruti and Laya (it can be understood as pitch and rhythm ) was dinned into us every moment with the saying -" Shruti matha Laya pitha".  Yes, singing in harmony with shruti keeping the beats (rhythm) is the basic requisite and they are like our mother and father. I realised then, being able to sing makes me happy. At home, my patti, thatha and uncle were all fond of listening to me singing and the daily 'Riyaz' (practice) was a time I really enjoyed. 

After a gap of five years, I scouted around and got a middle aged woman who was equally passionate about music and started my lessons from her. My music teacher had taught me how to listen to 3 hour concerts and appreciate the subtle nuances of each raga. That was a wonderful period, when after the class we would share our impressions about previous day's radio relays. I lapped up every note, every phrase that came through, in the majestic voice of Voleti Venkateshwarlu or the mellifluous voice of Nedanuri garu or the soft distinct notes of Kalyanaraman. What a magical time it was when I was completely under the spell of music!

But all good things come to an end, don't they? After about 2 years of this magic - family rules, social customs and my expected role dictated that I had to get married and become 'a responsible woman'!! I felt it was a gamble - how the two strangers would be compatible? Are we taught about mutual respect and open communication? With multitude of questions I entered into this new phase.  My marriage to an army officer took me far away from this music physically, yes. But it continued to  nurture me and enriched the new relationship as well. I realised I was blessed to have a partner who respected my space and took pride in my talents and achievements.  
My husband appreciated good music of any type; he recognised my passion for classical music, gifted me with audio cassettes of my favourite ones and he loved to listen to them with me! He wanted me to pursue music lessons and hone my writing skills.  With him, for the first time I listened to jazz and other western form of music and learnt to appreciate good music from any corner of the world. 

Now, I am back to the place - that is the 'happening place for Indian classical music. I attend concerts, through my stumbling and fumbling with technology, manage to listen to webcast programmes and have been part of a carnatic music group which share special music concerts through online radio. This group has members who are experts in theory and the practical aspects of music and when they share their views, I gain more insight into the intricacies and technicalities of carnatic music. Music has been a great point of bonding with some wonderful people. Like this morning, within a moment, the surrounding changes to endless blue sky with the azure mountains beyond bordered by tall coconut trees and other big trees and the scent of jasmine wafting in the gentle breeze.
It just let my imagination flow unrestrained and I soar up, up and up feeling that oneness with all things around me. 

And, the competition continues...

A little meditation, going inward and creating a design in front of the house - it has become a great stress buster and good way of starting the day, particularly now.

Added to that is the revival of one childhood habit of competing with my neighbour and a very close friend of six decades.

She had been there for me to guide my steps when I float in my day dreams (literally and figuratively too!). Marriage and the choices of profession had taken us to different places; but our hearts found ways to bond and stay close.

In the twilight years, we have both come to the same city, yet stay quite a few kilometres away from each other.

We are not given to using mobile and other social media often to communicate with each other; nor can we be demonstrative of our friendship and love. so what! Certain things from the childhood come back with renewed vigour - this was our competition during the month of Markazhi to fill the entrance with beautiful 'kolam' designs and to see who completed it first.

She is sharing her free hand designs with me because I enjoy looking at them and also want to incorporate those designs in my kolams (hope, no patent/copyright issue??!).

I occasionally add a dash of colours to bring a different perspective.

The kolam design that I created today is here.(The one above)

These flowers were in and out of my thoughts and vision since last two days. They wanted me to feel them, smell them and acknowledge them in my heart.

Morning the watch man stood and looked down at it for few minutes and showered me with such appreciation that it seemed like the flowers swayed gently in the breeze and smiled at me.

I wanted to share it with my friend and said " The competition continues."(Why did I say so?)

She has subtly pointed that out. Ha ha! Feel like those 12-14 year old girl with the whole world within her reach. the kolam down below is the one , my friend has sent!.