November 10, 2010 is a day in my life that I will never forget. My son Sanjiv completed five years and we visited the family temple at Kalidaikurichi village in Tirunleveli District of Tamil Nadu. We were at the village after 35 years at the express desire of my father who wanted me to worship at the temple at least once in my life. Apart from my father and son, I was accompanied by my brother-in-law—Parthu-and father-in-law Mr Krishnan.
As the priest was performing the prayers, my worst fears came true. Suddenly my brother-in-law looked at my father and exclaimed that he appeared to be in trouble. A word of explanation is needed here. My father is a diabetic and at times he tends to lose consciousness, ironically enough when the sugar level dips. Indeed my father appeared to lose consciousness; we gave him sugar as we are generally prepared for such contingencies. He recovered but it was apparent to us that he was still not completely okay. My father however insisted on being in the temple as the prayers were still on.
Soon, it was clear that that this was not sustainable and my father fell unconscious again. My brother-in-law then acted swiftly and carried him on his shoulders to the vehicle parked outside the temple while a priest accompanied us to in order to give us direction to the hospital. A big thank you to these two men who were instrumental in saving my father’s life by their timely action.
Once we got to hospital, and explained the problem, the doctor put him on intravenous medication and wanted to see his case reports. I promised to secure it, went out and hailed an auto and explained the situation to the driver. The driver quickly took me to our relative’s place where we were staying and agreed to wait while I secured his case history.
Soon I was back in the auto with the reports and my mother. When we reached the hospital, we found out that my father had regained consciousness. I went back to the auto driver and offered to pay him extra money. He refused. I was touched and asked him for his name. “Ramaswami”, he replied. I thanked him fervently. I thank this unknown Indian again who resides in the small village of Kalidaikurichi but has kept alive my faith in human nature. Thank you once more Ramaswami.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Driver Jagannath, and James Bond’s licence to kill
Hi I am driver Jagannath and I drive master Ravi’s Swift. He is a good man this master Ravi but he doesn’t know a thing about driving and I wish he would simply stay out of it. Instead he tries backseat driving all the time.
Take his ridiculous idea about speed for instance. He insists that I restrict to driving at 60 kms per hour. On the Highway ? Come on if you drive at less than 100 kms per hour it is a sign of disrespect to the highway as well as its builders. I am of the firm opinion that even in the narrow bylanes of Ghatkopar which we traverse everyday, anything less than 100 kms is an insult to the car, the roads and the engineers who conceived these narrow bylanes. When I express my views to master, Ravi he wonders as to where I got my licence from. Come on, I got it from the RTO. Also, although I am not much of a reading man I have heard of someone called James Bond and his 007 licence. Now 007 gives a man the licence to kill. Once you have a legitimate driving licence, in my opinion it is really up to the population (pedestrians) to take care of themselves. Did James Bond ever hesitate while using his licence? Why should I?
Take master Ravi’s other silly idea. Don’t get into confrontations on the road, he says. Remember to not get into silly arguments with BEST buses, the huge Volvo tourist vehicles and myriad lorries who simply get in the way of a man discharging his fundamental responsibilities on the road. Come on I know better. I have driven tourist vehicles in my earlier jobs and let me tell you that they didn’t win all the arguments. Yes the Swift may occasionally get a few scratches and even get smashed up. These are occupational hazards. Anyway, he has insurance. These cowards—how do they get to own cars in the first place. On top of that the guy doesn’t pay me properly. And he expects me to be on call. Oh God, he is calling me again. I will have to stop now folks and will update you later.
Post Script: This is master Ravi here although I have personally considered myself to be nothing more than a slave to Jagannath’s driving. I called Jagannath to inform him that after considering various options like buying hefty term insurance, I have decided to sack him. Thanks to that, I hope to celebrate my next birthday.
Take his ridiculous idea about speed for instance. He insists that I restrict to driving at 60 kms per hour. On the Highway ? Come on if you drive at less than 100 kms per hour it is a sign of disrespect to the highway as well as its builders. I am of the firm opinion that even in the narrow bylanes of Ghatkopar which we traverse everyday, anything less than 100 kms is an insult to the car, the roads and the engineers who conceived these narrow bylanes. When I express my views to master, Ravi he wonders as to where I got my licence from. Come on, I got it from the RTO. Also, although I am not much of a reading man I have heard of someone called James Bond and his 007 licence. Now 007 gives a man the licence to kill. Once you have a legitimate driving licence, in my opinion it is really up to the population (pedestrians) to take care of themselves. Did James Bond ever hesitate while using his licence? Why should I?
Take master Ravi’s other silly idea. Don’t get into confrontations on the road, he says. Remember to not get into silly arguments with BEST buses, the huge Volvo tourist vehicles and myriad lorries who simply get in the way of a man discharging his fundamental responsibilities on the road. Come on I know better. I have driven tourist vehicles in my earlier jobs and let me tell you that they didn’t win all the arguments. Yes the Swift may occasionally get a few scratches and even get smashed up. These are occupational hazards. Anyway, he has insurance. These cowards—how do they get to own cars in the first place. On top of that the guy doesn’t pay me properly. And he expects me to be on call. Oh God, he is calling me again. I will have to stop now folks and will update you later.
Post Script: This is master Ravi here although I have personally considered myself to be nothing more than a slave to Jagannath’s driving. I called Jagannath to inform him that after considering various options like buying hefty term insurance, I have decided to sack him. Thanks to that, I hope to celebrate my next birthday.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Celebrating Ganesha
This year’s Ganesha festival which was celebrated last month proved to be one with a difference for me. A mix of circumstances which began with my wife falling sick resulted in my performing the prayer. Usually, I was very happy to let my wife do it and prior to my marriage my father conducted the prayers. This has been in keeping with my nature of not being a great believer in rituals despite being a firm believer in God.
Well to perform the prayer, I had to get into traditional clothes and on earlier occasions I have made an issue of these things. This year though I got into them without any fuss and sat cross legged on the floor. I repeated the mantras after my father who read them out to me. The prayer lasted for about half an hour or so.
At the end of it all, it was time to ring the traditional bell, bow to the lord and seek his blessings. Strangely, after all this I was filled with a sense of peace and satisfaction. Maybe not the same peace that I felt at the Samadhi of the Father of the Nation at Rajghat.
http://glimpsesintolife.blogspot.com/2009/11/connecting-with-mahatma.html
A peace nevertheless.
Next day it was time for the immersion. Normally since the day after the Ganesh festival is a working day (which is the immersion day for many Tamilians), I have rarely been for these. Since, the next day was a Sunday, I went to immerse the statue of the Lord along with my mother at an artificially created lake near my house. We handed over the statue of Lord Ganesha to a young person who swam a bit and then immersed the idol. As I caught a glimpse of the Lord bobbing up and down with the sacred thread draped around it, I was filled with a senses of peace, quiet and joy. An image that has been captured in my mind in way no high resolution camera can. As the poet said “The music in my heart I bore, long after it was heard no more.”
Well to perform the prayer, I had to get into traditional clothes and on earlier occasions I have made an issue of these things. This year though I got into them without any fuss and sat cross legged on the floor. I repeated the mantras after my father who read them out to me. The prayer lasted for about half an hour or so.
At the end of it all, it was time to ring the traditional bell, bow to the lord and seek his blessings. Strangely, after all this I was filled with a sense of peace and satisfaction. Maybe not the same peace that I felt at the Samadhi of the Father of the Nation at Rajghat.
http://glimpsesintolife.blogspot.com/2009/11/connecting-with-mahatma.html
A peace nevertheless.
Next day it was time for the immersion. Normally since the day after the Ganesh festival is a working day (which is the immersion day for many Tamilians), I have rarely been for these. Since, the next day was a Sunday, I went to immerse the statue of the Lord along with my mother at an artificially created lake near my house. We handed over the statue of Lord Ganesha to a young person who swam a bit and then immersed the idol. As I caught a glimpse of the Lord bobbing up and down with the sacred thread draped around it, I was filled with a senses of peace, quiet and joy. An image that has been captured in my mind in way no high resolution camera can. As the poet said “The music in my heart I bore, long after it was heard no more.”
Celebrating Ganesha
This year’s Ganesha festival which was celebrated last month proved to be one with a difference for me. A mix of circumstances which began with my wife falling sick resulted in my performing the prayer. Usually, I was very happy to let my wife do it and prior to my marriage my father conducted the prayers. This has been in keeping with my nature of not being a great believer in rituals despite being a firm believer in God.
Well to perform the prayer, I had to get into traditional clothes and on earlier occasions I have made an issue of these things. This year though I got into them without any fuss and sat cross legged on the floor. I repeated the mantras after my father who read them out to me. The prayer lasted for about half an hour or so.
At the end of it all, it was time to ring the traditional bell, bow to the lord and seek his blessings. Strangely, after all this I was filled with a sense of peace and satisfaction. Maybe not the same peace that I felt at the Samadhi of the Father of the Nation at Rajghat.
http://glimpsesintolife.blogspot.com/2009/11/connecting-with-mahatma.html
A peace nevertheless.
Next day it was time for the immersion. Normally since the day after the Ganesh festival is a working day (which is the immersion day for many Tamilians), I have rarely been for these. Since, the next day was a Sunday, I went to immerse the statue of the Lord along with my mother at an artificially created lake near my house. We handed over the statue of Lord Ganesha to a young person who swam a bit and then immersed the idol. As I caught a glimpse of the Lord bobbing up and down with the sacred thread draped around it, I was filled with a senses of peace, quiet and joy. An image that has been captured in my mind in way no high resolution camera can. As the poet said “The music in my heart I bore, long after it was heard no more.”
Well to perform the prayer, I had to get into traditional clothes and on earlier occasions I have made an issue of these things. This year though I got into them without any fuss and sat cross legged on the floor. I repeated the mantras after my father who read them out to me. The prayer lasted for about half an hour or so.
At the end of it all, it was time to ring the traditional bell, bow to the lord and seek his blessings. Strangely, after all this I was filled with a sense of peace and satisfaction. Maybe not the same peace that I felt at the Samadhi of the Father of the Nation at Rajghat.
http://glimpsesintolife.blogspot.com/2009/11/connecting-with-mahatma.html
A peace nevertheless.
Next day it was time for the immersion. Normally since the day after the Ganesh festival is a working day (which is the immersion day for many Tamilians), I have rarely been for these. Since, the next day was a Sunday, I went to immerse the statue of the Lord along with my mother at an artificially created lake near my house. We handed over the statue of Lord Ganesha to a young person who swam a bit and then immersed the idol. As I caught a glimpse of the Lord bobbing up and down with the sacred thread draped around it, I was filled with a senses of peace, quiet and joy. An image that has been captured in my mind in way no high resolution camera can. As the poet said “The music in my heart I bore, long after it was heard no more.”
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
RIP: Dr Sethna
“You guys write anything,” said the elderly gentleman across the table to us two journalists-myself and another colleague. The gentleman in question was Dr H N Sethna, the man who was the driving spirit behind India’s first peaceful nuclear explosion in 1974 and we were meeting him in his capacity as the chairman of the Tata Power Company. Dr Sethna was clearly making known his disdain for journalists. At that time (around 1997) I was a correspondent with a leading business daily tracking the power beat and my senior colleague who was covering the Tata group had arranged for this meeting. It was in some ways a dream come true for me as I was aware of the history of the man and also getting to meet the chairman of any Tata Group comp any was not easy for a junior journalist like me.
To get back to the meeting, my senior colleague protested and laughed his way out of the rhetorical statement while Dr Sethna too answered his questions with considerable vim and vigor. After that meeting I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting him on a one –on-one basis although I did meet him at the company annual general meetings.
It was the last annual general meeting that he chaired where I had another interesting conversation with Dr Sethna. I had been tipped off before the meeting that he was going to step down on that day. Sure enough he did. As he walked off at the end of the meeting, I had to ask him the question: Why? “I am too old,” he shot back as he walked away. What he meant was that he had attained the age of 75 under which Tata Group none-executive directors had to step down at that time. I could not help chuckling at this.
A fortnight back, when I read about his death at the ripe old age of 86, memories of my two meetings with him came flooding back. I could not help smiling again at the thought of my last meeting with him. Or at the thought of the message that was sent when India successfully tested its first nuclear bomb in 1974: The Buddha has smiled. For India’s rivals who got the message loud and clear, it was no laughing matter.
RIP: Dr Sethna
To get back to the meeting, my senior colleague protested and laughed his way out of the rhetorical statement while Dr Sethna too answered his questions with considerable vim and vigor. After that meeting I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting him on a one –on-one basis although I did meet him at the company annual general meetings.
It was the last annual general meeting that he chaired where I had another interesting conversation with Dr Sethna. I had been tipped off before the meeting that he was going to step down on that day. Sure enough he did. As he walked off at the end of the meeting, I had to ask him the question: Why? “I am too old,” he shot back as he walked away. What he meant was that he had attained the age of 75 under which Tata Group none-executive directors had to step down at that time. I could not help chuckling at this.
A fortnight back, when I read about his death at the ripe old age of 86, memories of my two meetings with him came flooding back. I could not help smiling again at the thought of my last meeting with him. Or at the thought of the message that was sent when India successfully tested its first nuclear bomb in 1974: The Buddha has smiled. For India’s rivals who got the message loud and clear, it was no laughing matter.
RIP: Dr Sethna
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Yoga & Hari Om
“Hari OM,”said the voice at the other end of the phone. “Hari OM”, I returned. “What a wonderful thing it is to hear Ravi say the name of the Lord,” my wife interjected. This was prompted by the well known fact that, I am not religious by nature despite being a firm believer in God.
To get back to the telephone conversation, the voice on the phone was my Yoga teacher Shyamjee, asking when he should come over the next day. After finalizing the timing, I began ruminating on the change that Yoga and more specifically Shyamjee had wrought in my life. I had become a calmer person and reoriented my focus on life with a firm emphasis on health.
“Consider this body to be your property and remember that it is priceless. People spend all their lives running after money but spare little time to look after their health. What is the use of all the money in the world if your health is damaged? So many world leaders are able to spare sometime to look after their health Are you busier than them,” Shyamjee would say every week as we did Yoga.
The simple truths of life. Something which all of us forget as we go about the business of life and living. Simple truths brought home to me by Shyamjee every Saturday and Sunday while learning Yoga from him.
While teaching me to breathe in and breathe out he would say, “Remember it is this very breath that keeps us alive. It is this very breath that is the source of life”. Again life’s meaning explained at the simplest possible level. Life itself stripped to the bare essentials. These are insights I look have been looking forward to every weekend. And of course to hearing Hari OM.
Please click on link below to read related post
http://glimpsesintolife.blogspot.com/2010/02/yoga-and-new-year-resolutions.html
To get back to the telephone conversation, the voice on the phone was my Yoga teacher Shyamjee, asking when he should come over the next day. After finalizing the timing, I began ruminating on the change that Yoga and more specifically Shyamjee had wrought in my life. I had become a calmer person and reoriented my focus on life with a firm emphasis on health.
“Consider this body to be your property and remember that it is priceless. People spend all their lives running after money but spare little time to look after their health. What is the use of all the money in the world if your health is damaged? So many world leaders are able to spare sometime to look after their health Are you busier than them,” Shyamjee would say every week as we did Yoga.
The simple truths of life. Something which all of us forget as we go about the business of life and living. Simple truths brought home to me by Shyamjee every Saturday and Sunday while learning Yoga from him.
While teaching me to breathe in and breathe out he would say, “Remember it is this very breath that keeps us alive. It is this very breath that is the source of life”. Again life’s meaning explained at the simplest possible level. Life itself stripped to the bare essentials. These are insights I look have been looking forward to every weekend. And of course to hearing Hari OM.
Please click on link below to read related post
http://glimpsesintolife.blogspot.com/2010/02/yoga-and-new-year-resolutions.html
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Madrasi Ghost
“Rocky, Rocky, Rock,” a bunch of boys cried out. They were not cheering Sylvester Stallone. Nor were they cheering Sanjay Dutt in his debut movie Rocky where he rode a motorbike with panache. Instead, what followed after the cries was that a 50 something man with a balding pate, rode into sight on his scooty. The boys in his neighbourhood which included yours truly were giving him three cheers as he rode about with the legitimate purpose of getting on with his life.
Now Brahmbhatt aka Rocky was obviously irritated by these cries but ,since he found himself being surrounded by a bunch of boys whose numerical strength was strong enough to fill a cricket team, he chose the path of discretion over valour. Of course he would let out the occasional cry of rage which used to only amuse us boys further.
On one matter though Brahmbhatt had the upper hand. The cricket ball would often sail into his house which was on the ground floor, when some audacious batsman decided to play his shot. If the Englishman believes his home to be his castle, Brahmbhatt actually regarded his as a fort. Naturally, he had his say while we boys stood around half amused. After a few minutes the ball would be tossed back to us and then it was business as usual. On one such occasion when the ball sailed into his house, we were standing around as usual while Rocky went about having his say. My brother Balaji too decided to express his opinion with a hearty laugh. Rocky turned around wildly and asked my brother in Hindi “ Thoo kya hasta hai re Madrasi Bhooth” (Why are you laughing you South Indian Ghost). That of course brought the house down. Apart from that it raised the important question, Is there a community\caste system in the spirit world? I haven’t been figure out the answer to that one nearly a quarter century later and would appreciate someone throwing light on the issue.
Now Brahmbhatt aka Rocky was obviously irritated by these cries but ,since he found himself being surrounded by a bunch of boys whose numerical strength was strong enough to fill a cricket team, he chose the path of discretion over valour. Of course he would let out the occasional cry of rage which used to only amuse us boys further.
On one matter though Brahmbhatt had the upper hand. The cricket ball would often sail into his house which was on the ground floor, when some audacious batsman decided to play his shot. If the Englishman believes his home to be his castle, Brahmbhatt actually regarded his as a fort. Naturally, he had his say while we boys stood around half amused. After a few minutes the ball would be tossed back to us and then it was business as usual. On one such occasion when the ball sailed into his house, we were standing around as usual while Rocky went about having his say. My brother Balaji too decided to express his opinion with a hearty laugh. Rocky turned around wildly and asked my brother in Hindi “ Thoo kya hasta hai re Madrasi Bhooth” (Why are you laughing you South Indian Ghost). That of course brought the house down. Apart from that it raised the important question, Is there a community\caste system in the spirit world? I haven’t been figure out the answer to that one nearly a quarter century later and would appreciate someone throwing light on the issue.
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