My Indian Apsara | 2014

I pushed myself forward to look beyond a gang of people who were clicking pictures with their oversized cameras......precisely many iPads were used to show off their sophistication, thank god they opted out to use their laptops to snap it, though live skyping was going on the other side as people who sat in front seats hardly noticed what was happening on the stage.!!

Two friends of mine had also accompanied these visual treats. I became restless with high decibels sounds that echoed within the auditorium, though it could accommodate barely a crowd close to hundred. I certainly had a mindset that girls who were trained in Bharathanatiyam as well as Carnatic music would be a Big ticket..!!! nothing wrong in my mindset as a rational Tamilian, I said to myself.

After giving a good break to these restlessness, Krishna and Vashisht, who could listen these for nuts, left the place by cursing "Ot**, nee thirundhave maatte da". Any day better than your Apple cheeks and cucumber neck, you moron., I wanted to say (he always wanted a Kashmiri girl with those high fair tone with dark eyebrows). I cursed Krishna that he will never get a lap dance as he pointed me saying "Fu**tard, let's leave".

“Let me see something!!”, I said to myself as every single person were proud to hold their oversized cameras to show off their blurred photography skills.

At last, I was able to see some tender feet, of course I could recognise it was her. I felt like those feet took the whole restlessness of mine. she had beats around her ankle. I was almost dead by that.

Those beats were placed on a red based cloth to light up her fairness. My eyes popped out once my head was twirling with the beats followed by the flute and violin.... what a soothing .... I brimmed, I was put on airs even before I  completed the soothing scene.

If u ask me to write an entrance on Bharathanatiyam, I might even get a negative marks for my disinterest towards it (of course, not the dancers).

I felt sorry for my friends as they missed it to attend one Marvadi function. It was purely for sweets and over gheed dishes, of which Vashisht has always fantasized about.

I stood up right immediately to place myself where she does those mudras looking at random people, but didn't wanna screw her show.... I still convinced so called fore thinking thoughts and stood at a place where I wasn't prominent.

she was dead already as she danced for Thillana, portraying the cosmic energiser Lord Nataraja. The host started reading out her extra terrestrial English notes. I hardly came through those words. May be I should tell her none of us peep into editorials. Anyways it was packed with Raagas and Thaalas. After hearing a large vocal notes from Mistress English, I reclaimed that it was a break for the dancer to breathe and to have a check on her foundations.

I could only hear about their chief guest's Padmasree praises and her latest book written on psychology and cosmic energies, which was related to particle physics according to me. “Why don't you guys talk about her cherry burgundy based silk Saree and her attire which looked like one of the Indian God's consort”, I grumbled.

The costume was completely sizzling and made my day. She had a long neck and limbs which was set at its beauty when she stood like Lord Nataraja. My eardrum wobbled when her teacher instructed her step by "Ta Ki Ta Tha Kha Dhi Mi...... Ta Ka Dhi Mi…. Ta Ka Ta Ki Ta". This number was the last of the concert and she was brisk on her feet. Those ear drops swung to her jathi and soothing flute. Of course a rarest culmination of vocal, violin, flute and her presence rejuvenated the entire crowd to applaud. I was elevated to a divine status, apotheosis, as God spared me to witness this.

The next Saree being a pink based kanjeevaram for a song which was a romantic number portraying the intimacy of Lord Perumal and Andal, I wanted to introduce this way, but they were contented with “composition JAVALI and Raagam Tillang..  Taalam Rupakam”. Of course, they wouldn't have let me in as I stood with light men for a better sight.

The best part being the Javali, which was a Telugu composition with its nectarine quality and mellifluousness which sufficed as a best vehicle for musical expressions, as I heard these from Mistress English.

"Are u still drooling or they made u collect those used coffee cups", Vashisht asked over the phone.

"You can never get a girl with your obnoxious thoughts, you moron!!  stop staring at the nuptial room and pick me up", I sighed.

“Let me focus”, I scolded myself. This time it's romantic genre and I have all expectations for an incredible interpretations of those lyrics. The scene was framed in a way that Andal, the bride, entered the nuptial with all excitements and fear behind those eyes. Being a consort she was bedecked with garlands all over her. As the song goes, the Lord removes his garland (background score being flute at its best).

…..what else a guy can personify, if his girl plays this over a stage and winks at you. !!!!!

"Enna vazhka da", saying so I sat on a chair without removing my eyes on her.

I could hear my dad screaming for coffee... May be far away from my place.. sounded like when someone wakes you up from coma. I was little paranoid for a moment, when my mom shook me up.

"wake up ..!! it's already 12 noon", she sighed.

I blinked.. blinked..  and then blinked !!

P:S- Not based on a true story :P

The Joy of Inheritance ..!! | 2013 |

It was around 6 in the evening. The boy innocently with curious eyes, asked his grandad. 

"Do u have any hobbies" , asked the grandson smiling. The boy was rewarded with a smile as a reply.

Of course, the small kid knows that his grandad makes himself too occupied all the time. But how come. He took a moment to find out if there was anything that can make him really this bitsy. The boy felt that he gets bored inspite of all his school, assignments, piano class and of course a very little time devoted to studies. 

His grandad, a very interesting person and composed in nature but very principled and commands respect. He prefers to explore the most remote places on this earth. 

His collections included a compass, that he used during world war II. A finely crafted vintage compass made out of tortoise shell, roman collection dated 55 years back. 

One day the boy spotted his grandad gazing with his magnifying glass. He peeped out of the window to know what his grandad was really excited about. The boy noticed a briefcase beside him while he was dusting it. 

He placed that briefcase right on his table. He sneezed as he opened it gently. The boy peeped as much as his foot could carry him. 

"What is there inside", the boy whispered. 

He took some albums and old beer tins out of that briefcase. The boy was able to hear some coins rolling inside those tins. He contemplated it as used bullets, as he remembers his grandad mentioning the same. 

55 years old Czechoslovakia stamp

He gently arranged everything that was staked in that briefcase for years. 

He ambled to reach the nearest so as to not test his grandad's patience. He was unable to spot anything as the door was closed later by his grandad. But he remembered some albums having mutilated corners. "Is it that old"., he asked himself.

He went back to his room and found his dad busy vetting the will documents. His mom enjoyed her own part in this process of succession. But his grand parents were really proud about this inheritance. To suffice this, their  son was kind enough to give them comfort post inheritance.




Next day, the boy heard someone calling him impatiently. He stretched himself reluctantly to that impatient voice. He could see his grandad sitting alone in the garden.

"Come here, I have something, really interesting for u"., said his grandad in a tuff tone. 

52 years old - Rome olympics 1960

"I have collected around 600 rare stamps. I have spent almost half my life in searching and collecting them. Each and every stamp has a story before it got placed in this album. My only ground rule was not to collect stamps for money and by money. The important catalyst is the interest. Not every one can do this as it needs enormous patience  while collecting and tremendous time to maintain it. And there is no better person on this earth to value it the way I do"., grandad expressed. 

The boy's grandma was observing silently and enjoyed the way things were turning out. 

"That's because, I want my grandson to inherit my unconditional love"., he said turning to his wife. 

"Then he should also own that, the stamp that was released on the mark of Prince Charles royal wedding with Diana"., the wife said.

29th July 1981 - The Royal Wedding

"I gifted you on our 25th anniversary, the most precious stamp of all my collection. A 30 year old stamp that marked the unconditional love and bondage of love and being loved"., he said brimming with pride.

From that day, the boy sauntered with the briefcase and fixed beneath his bed, before he crashed to bed. 

The Linga | 2013

Whether Hinduism is a religion or a way of life ?, a question which has been ringing in our mind for centuries. Now the state of thought towards this religion has been portrayed as way of life filled with superstitions and blind belief of our Purana's depicting the immortals.

The presence of this form has given the most quintessential grace, compassion & divine. This forms the eternal beauty of life.

The one, who finds the puzzle, finds the secret of ecology, the secret of evolution. This form has given a Scientific shape to our religion. Hinduism, more than a religion it's a way of life. It is nothing but science. We say it superstitious, but accept the same when it travels from west as "scientific". It contains the very core of wisdom. It enhances the individual transmission.

Researchers round the globe had undergone in-depth findings, which has lead to interpretations. As world evolved, many contributed their perception towards this form.

This cosmic fire pillar has been interpreted as the infinite nature of Lord Shiva, proving his superiority over Lord Brahma and Lord Vishnu. According to Linga Purana and Shiva theology, the cosmic pillar is formless. If it's a human then humans will claim it as their own god or if it's a animal then they will claim as their own god or if it's a creeper then again they will claim as their own god. To my perception this formless cosmic pillar stands as an abode of all living and non living things on this earth.

In 19th century, scholars from west had their wide and weird imagination to interpret the cosmic pillar and yoni. According to them these represent i.e. Linga, which is a male sexual organ (phallus) and yoni, female sexual organ. Where as, Hindus observe it as a segment beyond human imagination.

Vedas and Puranas being the oldest have given no clue for the scholars to decode the secret behind it's existence.

Also, one branch of people says that the form depicts the three gods, Shiva, Vishnu and Brahma. A cyclic process of infinity where it portrays that the Lord Brahma being the creator, Lord Vishnu being the preserver and Lord Shiva being the destroyer. The lower part symbolizes the evolution (Shrishti) and existence (Shiti) – Middle and involution (Samhara) – Top cosmic pilar.

God may be worshipped in any form. Philosophies around the world has conveyed god being conceptualized and followed in a convenient form.  Let it be any religion, its only the energy, vibration, faith, belief and endless power that matters.

5 Moons @ The City of Saga | Undated

Krishna went searching for a good a restaurant when we had nothing to fill our belly other than noodles. He was lost in words as well as in sight.

Saga, a township situated in Southern Tibet, near the borders of Nepal - A downtrodden place to expect from a city with just four crisscross roads.

This is the first time we thought and tried different. Here the sun is comparatively brisky as it shows up sharp at 3 in the morning.

We spoke to the local people to guide us through the place. A group of seven acrobatic kids aged between 8 to 12 years conditionally volunteered to guide us.

We started believing that we aren’t in India when we sang “Roobaroo” with Vashisht, riding on a yak at an altitude of 15,433 ft. It was a terrible to sing that loud though. This would rocket us to the peak, for a 52km of wide saga view. We climbed like a rusted engine, when we started breathing through our nose.

The top – There was a clear sky, paved an astonishing bird’s view, graceful and magnificent. Healthy Sun-rays made those water bodies to glitter. Its formation sufficed the belief of Saga’s people by being a jewel around its neck.

Meanwhile we were asked to leave the place as the density of oxygen will reduce by noon and the velocity of air will increase, which would not be a challenge rather an impossibility state for us to reach the tent back.

It was too cold that we were asked not to take bath for those five days. But somehow we have to manage the other stuffs. I don’t want to invite any metabolic malfunction during my trip.

Krishna was like “???? “.

“We don’t use any separate rooms for toilet, God has magnanimously given the entire place for our disposal” Shizouka said. He can make the worlds excellent MoMo which the same world is yet to taste.

They don’t know about Ramanujam’s cryptic deathbed puzzle or Higgs Boson or The big bang theory or Stephen Hawkins. They don’t know why Manmohan singh still gives a friendly gesture in Siachen. But their intentions, way of life and attitude has been clinically carved by the 14^th Dalai Lama. He injects the path for enlightenment and reincarnation.

The place was too beautiful bedecked with good humans. They are blessed to claim that soil, I would say.

It wasn’t a normal day. No network coverage, no Internet, no WhatsApp, no towers to handle signals, no loud horn. We nearly came to know each and every one there.

I was able to see the want of perpetuity in those eyes and a deep thirst towards knowledge. They know what they need. They have got a high degree of moral fiber. Computers are still to be invented according to them. We spent around 3 full days with those kids, very brisk, smart, kind and confident. 

We saw their teachers who taught them Math and Science.
Who taught them values,Who taught them confidence,Who taught them to respect, to bow & to fight.

It was nothing but the blissful nature.

That night we all were together. “Wait for my master to come”, he said. We didn’t understand, we remained silent for a while.

It was around 8’o clock.

“Look at my master, how beautiful is he! He can hear our voices”, he expressed.

The place was dead silent for some minutes. The sky was bedecked with thousands and millions of stars. It was too unusual “for us”.

“This Place doesn’t belong to this earth, a constant passage of vibrations and an unknown side of nature. I would say beautiful is an understatement. The moon is gently floating through the crystallized water of Lake Brahmaputra (its tributary).” I expressed.

“The whole place is lighted up, understand the true mechanism of ecology, An overwhelming relationship between the living organisms.

What a brimming divinity”, Krishna said.

So many people claim this place, Hindus, Jainism, Buddhism and BŐn (a religion which predated Buddhism in Tibet).

“This is god’s own land”, I Said.

When we were about to leave the place after 5 nights, I asked about the conditional offer accepted with those kids.

“If you plan to come next time, can u get us some books and pencils, here … our savings (some coins on those tender palm)…”. he offered.

Vashisht looked at me and said,
“It’s time to pass on whatever we have learnt,
For all those unconditional love,
For all belief,
For all humbleness,
For all respect,
For Nature’s response,
For Tibetans…….”.
We should pass on …!!    

This fascinating story has weaved the highs and lows of Tibetans, which has chronicled our journey.

- An extract from my diary (undated).

And it's the love potion ....!!! | 2013

I don't believe in love ....

My new year started with a powerful note from my childhood friend. We fight too often for our similarities but ironically we never had a consensus for even a small thing. We had a 4 hours unbelievable Long chat that disproved my belief beneath fear.

He was calm, clear and confident. I was able to see an unwinding happiness in his eyes. He was completely out of words. But he had a supplementing expression to those eyes.

I asked him ''what happened ??''

“I am in love”, He said.

I started losing gravity towards my statement when I heard him without any pre-established notion.... The science of probability works without exception. His thoughts were too influential, very true and convincing. I have been through lot of true emotions. But this one is not of that kind.

I was tired of evaluating it. My thoughts were baiting me!!! This time my body was travelling unlikely through my thoughts …

My mind was not in a balanced state. Can it be quiet ? I asked myself.

The experience of transformation was little interesting. I welcomed it with all the excitement I ever had.

A bare extract of those emotions  -

He said,

" Why won't you feel lucky when u get more than what you really deserve. I felt it on a Saturday, blissful, too romantic enough to handle, very delicate emotions, long hours of songs to personify, unconstrained overflowing love with a fear behind the eyes and its divine when the other person responds to your fast beating heart.

If people say this is what is chemistry, then damn we have got traffic jam of understanding.

I saw the deepest form of being loved …I saw the deepest form of memory when I saw her for the first time.

An unshaped memory that was carried through out my life fenced, that chronicled my journey  through highs and lows ...... !

Though I was psychologically and emotionally equipped, I was not able to get rid of those memories. I wolfed all those memories into my heart.

I think this is where I failed to attain saturation.

My needle of hope started showing a low frequency when my parents said 'No'. I thought the needle would stop one day. But I took a long puff..... When she didn't have my hand ... She had my back ....

I can bet.... This is the same girl that my mom is looking for, was cradled later to share the future with me.

"May be I would have lost the fight but not the battle" …… By saying this I start my mesmerizing journey towards her !” "

- The Adrenaline to the story is the friend, who is my little shadow!  - ஆ தி 

A Prophecy ∞

I need to build......

A place that acclimatizes deep-seated emotions, traits, receding pain..... !!

An immaterialistic thought.... with an injected human value not clouded...!

An innocuous cloth ... layered to distil the coarsed grit...!

That rejuvenates thawed threads.... leads to self transcendence...!

Incepts the philosophical optimism … that’s keeps the boat sailing…!

To inculcate the blissful ideology of faith and being Oneness…!

That enters my family scrapbook ............ to share the present with the future...!

Not to define myself but to value of “being loved’’...!!

&

I will build... My Heritage

An Unloaded Pistol | 2012 |

- Inspired by a true story

An adroit military soldier Capt.Sundar, sniper specialist - Found himself in the front lines of the battle of Kargil. Sent with an outsmarting skill inherited from his dad. As Indian snipers taking an increasing toll in Kargil, Sundar camped for a week mission along the LOC. He was connected to the intelligence team away from the battle 

team.

He was tested with patience and determination. Of course he had the focus towards his bait, waiting throughout the nights without a nap with his sniper fully loaded and eager index finder to trigger just to keep the flag high always.

He struggled by enduring the biting cold at high altitude along the LoC with his troops just carrying a priceless pride that "I am from Indian Army". 

He commemorates his acts of his dad – SVS.Manian, who injected the first seed of patriotism into him like how a mother injects the first seed of love.

SVS, a lower cadet soldier who was sent to Egypt and western countries during World War II - 1942, returned India after so many moons was his only inspirational war hero. He taught not the determination, patience but to love his own country.

When Sundar kept his eyes keen on passion rather counting his own medals, he was diagnosed with a critical kidney failure. He boarded back to Delhi military hospital immediately by leaving a hope to his mates that he will be back.

The next week his kidney was transplanted with no hope of joining military back.

In vain that organ never responded to him till now.

"May be my pistol is unloaded, but not my soul" - He mentioned.

Jai Hind….!!!