Aihole- Masterpiece of the Chalukyas

We are at the courtyard in Aihole- a dozen structures, all in a dull-brown colour, lie scattered in a small area. In a broad sweep, there's nothing which meets the eye as particularly catchy. They appear like any other set of ruins which dot the landscape... But these are no ordinary monuments. They are beacons of a bygone era....dating back to a dim and distant past... a past almost 1400 years ago.
If these stones could tell a story, it would be an engaging one....for they go back to that point in Indian history...when Harshavardhana ruled the North and the Pallavas ruled the South. The Chalukyas ruled the Deccan... and these monuments at Aihole, Pattadakkal and Badami were a labour of their love. But... alas, these stones are silent...- they stand tall... grim and grave... and mock all our attempts to unravel their mystery.
But....try we must... to arrange these stones in some order and piece together the chequered history of those times.

Who were these Chalukyas? Why are these monuments important? The Chalukyas ruled with Vatapi (Badami, North Karnataka) as their capital around the 7th century AD. In a sense, they set the trend for temple architecture in South India. The shore temple at Mahabalipuram, Tamil Nadu is amongst the earliest free-standing temples in the South. The structures at Aihole predate the shore temple. The Kailash temple at Ellora is a rock-cut temple built by the Rashtrakutas. The Rashtrakutas came after the Chalukyas. The Kailasanatha Temple and the Vaikuntha Perumal Temple are one of the oldest temples in Kanchipuram. The Aihole structures were standing for a good hundred years before these temples.
The Cholas built those grand temples around Thanjavur....almost 300-400 years later. The huge gopurams that we see all over the South were a much later addition. They came only with the advent of the Vijayanagar empire which was almost 800-900 years after the Chalukyan period.
Now...we see the relevance of these monuments! They were the trailblazers...!

How did Aihole (pronounced "eye-ho-lay") get its name? There are 2 stories-
Mythology says that Parashurama killed 21 generations of evil Kshatriyas. To obey the dictat of his father, he even  hacked off his mother's head. Finally, he washed the blood off his axe in the Malaprabha river, colouring it red, when someone exclaimed "ai-hole"!
Aihole was also the place where "cultured people" ("ayyaas" or "aaryas") congregated. Hence, the name "ayyaavale" or "aaryapura" (as it is called in Sanskrit).

The museum:

To the far end of the courtyard is a little museum. A 15 minute scan took us through numerous interesting facts- how scripts of different Indian languages originated like branches of a huge tree with the "Brahmi script" serving as the root, how there is evidence of neolithic sites around these parts etc. There were also numerous sculptures of Ganapatis.
What does the Chalukyan Ganesha remind us of? We have to sift through the yellowed pages of history and go back nearly 1400 years... It was the time of Narasimha Varma, the Pallava king..... who ruled from Kanchipuram, Tamil Nadu. Pulakeshi, the Chalukya king ruled Vatapi. In a bloody battle, Narashimha Varma defeated Pulakeshi and brought back the "Vatapi Ganapati" as a trophy. It was after all this "Vatapi Ganapati" which inspired Muthuswami Dikshitar to compose his celebated Hamsadhvani raga kriti "Vatapi Ganapatim" that every Carnatic music fan loves to listen to. Dikshitar lived only 200 years ago... but the Vatapi Ganapati, its folklore and immense appeal has endured for millennia.

There is one aside point that we can recall about this battle. Pulakeshi lost his life. Narasimha Varma's commander-in-chief was "Paranjyoti".  Saddened by the immense loss of life, like emperor Ashoka, Paranjyoti's life took a new turn. He became a great devotee of Lord Shiva so much so.. that he was given pride of place as one of the 63 Nayanmars (saints). He was rechristened as "Siruthondar naayanaar". In an incident later in life, Siruthondar Naayanaar  went to the extent of almost sacrificing his own son to feed a Shiva devotee. Such was his bhakti to the Lord.  He was called "suta drohi"...someone who could do "droha" (harm) to his own son (suta) to please the Lord.
All this is an aside story... which we got into...from the Vatapi Ganapati sculpted by the Chalukyas.

Now, back... to the original track.

The courtyard:

We engaged the services of a guide who took us around the courtyard. Without his commentary, the monuments would have made little sense and we would have missed most details.

The entire courtyard is in 3 levels. The lowest level corresponds to the earliest monuments- built in the pre-Chalukyan era, by the Kadambas. This monument's spire is in "nagari" (North Indian) style. As the silt from the Malaprabha river accumulated, the level of the land rose so that the next set of monuments are at a higher plane.

Chalukyan temple architecture has a basic feature- the entry to the sanctum has either a "dwarf" or a "Gaja Lakshmi" at the top. Paraphrasing the leit-motif of "Gaja Lakshmi", we're told that the two elephants holding the water pots stand for "rain bearing clouds".  When it rains, the land becomes fertile and crops spring forth. That is the real wealth (Lakshmi)... the plentiful wealth of food! The Gaja Lakshmi symbol is repeated in many structures in the complex.

Early Chalukyan architecture had "square pillars" inside the temple. The "rounded pillars" came later. This simple fact can be used to date the structures.

Durga Temple:

Presently called the "Durga Temple", it has little to do with Goddess Durga. Since this temple was close to a fort (durga), it was called "Durga Temple"! The name stuck.. and so did the related confusion. It was actually a "sun" temple, we're told. The sides of the temple have some of the most exquisite carvings of Shiva, Vishnu and Devi..all in sandstone. We're informed that this temple is carved in the "gaja-prishta-aakruti-rachana" style- that is, a temple... constructed like the "back of an elephant". The back of the temple is rounded (gaja-prishta), as if in Jaina style. The front of the temple is like a Hindu temple, while the side is like the "parliament house"... a rectangular edifice lined with several straight pillars!

The entrance to the sanctum has multiple layers- sculpted like a "lata" (creepers), with human figurines in the next layer and with floral patterns in the third. Yamuna (lady standing on a turtle) and Ganga flank the sides.
The ceiling has a coiled serpent and another panel of fishes whirling in a circle. The details are simply stunning.

Temple with 3 sanctums and 2 sanctums:

Chalukyas were essentially Vaishnavas. Their symbol is the "boar" (varaha) with the insignia of a shankha (conch), chakra (discus) and a "mirror". The mirror stands for "transparency in administration", the guide points out! We have no way of verifying some of these interpretations. We just take it at face value!
The "varaha" symbol was later borrowed by the Vijayanagar kings.

Though Vaishnavas, Chalukyas constructed temples with 3 sanctums- one each for Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva...all housed in the same temple, within the same "garbha griha".

We also see a temple with 2 sanctums- one for Vishnu and the other for Shiva, the guide points out. None of these are functional temples- there are no idols to corroborate these facts. But considering the figure of "Harihara" seen at Aihole (Durga Temple) and at Badami, both very elaborately carved, it is quite possible, that the two-sanctum temples actually housed Shiva and Vishnu, who interestingly, will be facing each other.

"Lad Khan temple":

Some of the names are funny- Apparently, during the British period, one "Lad Khan" lived in the temple premises and used a portion of the temple as his office too. Hence, the name "Lad Khan Temple" for one of the structures! As per the guide, one of the inscriptions on the temple front points to 500 traders getting together at this place- it must have been some congregation!
Though in stone, the temple gives a feel of a "wooden structure"- complete with carvings of logs of wood lining the roof. A stone ladder leads to a little opening... and from there to the first floor... an example of a multi-storey temple with the sanctum actually on the first floor and terrestrial issues being discussed by traders, on the ground floor!

The windows on the ground floor have apertures resembling "exhaust fans"- they are circular with perforated spokes and let in pencilled beams of sunlight.

A good-sized nandi is seen inside the temple. As per the guide, this temple was converted to a Shiva Temple at a later point in time. We don't ask for any proof and move on.

There is also an interesting bas-relief of an "inebriated lady"- seen both at the Lad Khan Temple and repeated in the Durga Temple. As per the guide, women in the Chalukyan age were modern and drank alcohol! These tidbits add comic relief to the commentary and keeps us focused!

Jain Temple:

Beyond the courtyard, in the distance, is a little hillock with a small structure. Those are "Jain temples", the guide points out. They were built outside the city because Jainas were digambaras (sky-clad saints) and it was usual to have their temples outside the city limits, as their dressing or the lack of it, may be a delicate point for the rest of the population, we're told.

It is the sheer variety in architecture that baffles us- pyramidal spires, rectangular bases, rounded sides, flat tops, multi-storey buildings, multiple sanctums, multiple deities...all clustered in a very small area.

It is also clear that the Chalukyas were secular and promoted worship to Shiva, Vishnu and even Mahavira. We see this  at Aihole and repeated in the caves at Badami. Jainism appears to have been very popular in South India in those days. This is corroborated by these sculptures as well as by historical records. Mahendra Varma, the Pallava king before Narasimha Varma... had converted to Jainism, before reconverting to Hinduism. All these events took place exactly around the time... these structures came up.

We couldn't take any more history. It had reached a point of saturation. Outside the courtyard, a vendor sold some of the most succulent guavas. That's exactly what we needed! There were no knives to cut the guavas to pieces. Each member of the group, child and adult, got one full, over-sized, gleaming-green guava.

As we drove off from Aihole, we nibbled at the guava...and dreamily ruminated over kings and kingdoms, Pallavas and Chalukyas. Even History seemed full of life suddenly- exhilaratingly juicy and tasty!!





 

"Roll number 15"... "Present miss!"

"Roll number 15....!" Ms Clare called out from her attendance register. It was met with silence. "Roll number 15...!" she slightly raised her voice. No response except for the general hub-hub of classroom chatter. Ms Clare looked up, adjusted the glasses against the bridge of her nose and positively irritated, she hollered... "I said roll number 15.... FIFTEEN". Mulraj was busy fidgeting at his desk. Sticking his tongue out, he was trying to scrape out the fresh coat of varnish from the desk with his nail. The varnish coloured his unkempt nail a shade of deep brown. Mulraj nibbled at his nail... to scoop out the varnish from the nail-tip and savour the after-taste. Evidently, he was in his own world.
This time, the sound of the word FIFTEEN did hit his ear. The auditory signal seeped into his seventh-grade brain. In a jiffy, it was processed and its response was dispatched. "PRESENT MISS!" Mulraj blurted out... in a sudden, strangulated reflex! Miss Clare was clearly not impressed. "Gaddha (donkey!)... dreaming... dreaming all the time! Go and wash your face!"

The roll-call was the ice-breaker. You needed it at the start of the school day. It produced laughs each time and helped the students to warm up to the classes ahead. Someone always made a mistake- we never knew which ones were involuntary and which ones deliberately instrumented.
Sometimes, two boys from opposite ends of the class responded to the same roll-number. The rhythm of the roll-call was broken and they looked at each other sheepishly. The roll-numbers marginally changed each year (with the addition/departure of a few students) and with this change came the inevitable confusion. Students who were used to a particular number over the years, found it difficult NOT to respond to that number.. especially at the start of the scholastic year.

Then, there were the students who were emboldened to "proxy" for their chums-when the latter played truant and hung around Five Gardens. Valentino had a flair for it- he could "proxy" like a pro- with no hint of suspicion and with no visible change in his voice or body language. Others gave it away- either they changed their voice to a squeak... or covered their mouth with their fingers to reduce the sound to a muffle. It was a strategy which was doomed to begin with- the teachers were trained to look for these obvious changes. Students were caught and caned!

There were no male teachers in primary school. "Sirs" started teaching once we moved to the secondary section. It required an adjustment in the roll-call drill too. "Present miss" or "present ma'am" had to be changed to "present sir"- which wasn't exactly simple. As the roll-call proceeded in a desultory manner, invariably someone bungled and shouted out "Present miss". The boys waited for this opportunity- there were giggles all around class with several imitations of "miss" doing the rounds. Pandey sir knitted his brows, visibly irritated. We never knew which one actually provoked him...whether it was a reference to him as "miss" or just the general commotion in class. "SILENCE!" he thundered and scared away a few crows sitting on the window sill, in his attempt to bring the class back on track.

Sridhar was a rebel. He had got used to the phrase "present teacher" right from primary school and insisted that he would make no adjustment. Taking recourse to the Wren and Martin's grammar textbook, he insisted that "teacher" was a common gender which could be applied equally to "sirs" and "madams". To an uninitiated student, this detail was lost. "Teacher" meant only a lady and applying the term to Pandey sir  in his safari suit, was simply preposterous! The class looked forward to Sridhar's turn at the roll-call. His response evoked amusement and was just  the trigger needed to turn the class into a little fish-market.

Offenders came in different flavours. There were occasional offenders who forgot to respond to the roll-call on a given day and needed a nudge from the partner. Then, there were serial offenders who answered the roll-call in a self-styled "high pitched sing-song" manner each time and deliberately broke the decorum. You couldn't fault them because it was difficult to pinpoint their crime. Then, there was Mehernosh. Mehernosh could never end the sentence in a clipped manner. If the word was "bamboo", he fell over the word for more time than he should.. so that it sounded like "bambooooooo". The slur was unintentional, but comical for the rest of the class. His "miss"  just wouldn't end quickly till the whole class resounded with a crescendo of "hisses". Occasionally, someone pretended to have a problem of stuttering and would derail the class... with a caricature of "p-p-p-present m-m-m'am".

Substitution teachers had a rough time. There was no way they could rein in the students. They didn't know any names, neither did they have any idea of the notorious students in the class. It was the perfect setting for students to eject out of class after answering their roll-call. The plan was simple- the ones who wanted to "cut class" sat closest to the window- which faced the corridor. Just after their turn in the roll-call was over, even as the teacher squinted over the attendance register, the students needed only a hop-skip and a jump to freedom; freedom for at least a half-hour!
Occasionally, the story did not have a happy ending. One ill-fated day, Valentino's jump to freedom was badly timed. In his excitement, he lost his balance and fell into the corridor with a huge thud. In the process, he let out a shriek... and alerted the teacher's attention. To make it worse, Fr Lionel was doing the rounds... and was unpleasantly surprised to see students flying out of windows! Valentino hobbled around... and had to deal with a bruised knee and an impending punishment. The punishment was always the same- whoever was caught, was caned.

The attendance register was an elaborate tome. The monitor had to carry it to class each day and return it to the staff room at the end of the roll-call. Against each student,  "present" was marked with a "P" and "absent" was left blank. Students explored loopholes all the time. They figured that if they took the monitor into confidence, the monitor could easily manipulate their absence on previous days, by simply writing a "P" against their name. All the monitor  had to do, was to feign a visit to the rest-room with the attendance register, on the way to the staff room. As simple as that!
It took just a bribe of a few stickers or the promise of a "pepsi" to rope the monitor into this nefarious activity.

The best laid plans of men and mice oft go astray. As the story goes, our monitor accidentally dropped the attendance register in the rest-room as he tried to fudge the records. What emerged from the toilet was a soggy-dossier, dripping all over and of course, a red-faced monitor. To this day, no one knows exactly where he dropped the attendance register. Some said that he just dropped it into the wash basin. Others claimed... that it actually fell into the urinal!!! 
For sure, the students didn't touch the attendance register that entire year....or if they handled it, it was with a lot of care, with inordinate care!!










 

Watercolor study- Lord Rama, Ramaswamy Temple, Kumbakonam

Lake Avalanche, Ooty

It is a picture straight out of  a Walter Foster painting book- the mountains in the distance, grey with a hint of violet, pasted against a darkening sky....Swirls of clouds flit across the canvas, rest for a while on the mountain tops.... and then make haste. The mountains and the clouds are mirrored in the limpid waters of the lake.... the reflection so clear... that it looks like one harmonious entity... with the line of symmetry stretched across the lake edge! A gentle roll of the meadows...punctuated with a clump of trees here and a bush there....draw our eyes... all the way.. right up to the lake front. The landscape is simple, yet arresting- just how your nine year old would scrawl hills, lake and trees on her drawing pad. It is surreal. It is Lake Avalanche, 25 km from Ooty.

As the day draws to a climactic close, we huddle in the bus. We need to get to the parking lot at Lake Emerald before darkness and head out to Ooty from there. The bus lurches, rocks, sways and jolts rather dangerously...as it makes its way through the make-shift path- made worse by the afternoon rain. It slices through the thick vegetation on either side of the path. An overhanging branch forces its way through the bus window and gives a nice tonk on the head to an inattentive bus occupant. He needs that wake-up call!
It is a little like Jurassic Park- an electric fencing follows us all the way.. to keep one side of the forest and its inmates....supposedly out of bounds from us. There are warning signs as well... that the fencing is "live" and shouldn't be touched. This is India... we are sure that the electric fence is purely ornamental!! Our hope is that the animals can also read... but don't make a similar inference!

"Yes, we have animals in this area," Karim mentions rather casually. "You should remember that we are connected to Mudhumalai Forest on the other side. So, it's not uncommon to see animals. On this very stretch we've seen one Gaur (Indian Bison) which used to visit every year at a particular time. But, they are not dangerous. The black bear is dangerous- he attacks!" "Mary!" Karim shouts over the drone of the bus, "Wasn't it your relative who had a close shave with that black bear? He is lucky to be alive!"
"Mary is from a village close to Lake Emerald. A woodcutter in her village had a narrow escape the other day. He heard a roar, turned back... and saw that it was a tiger. He jumped... jumped 16 ft... right to the top of a tree! That saved him. Tigers can't climb trees. If it had been a leopard, he would have been gone... leopards are very skillful, they can scale trees, of any height. Anyway, the woodcutter was on top of the tree and the tiger at the bottom! He called from his cell... sitting there. Soon, the villagers came with their drums and the tiger ran away! That's how it is!"

Soon, we are at the parking lot. Karim wants a ride in our car to Ooty. We readily agree. It's not easy to find such an engaging conversationalist.

Karim is a manager of a property on Lake Avalanche. Earlier in the day, he took us on a tour through the property. He showed us the cow sheds, the sheep and the horses. "The sheep are native, we have only two of them now, two others died. Each one has enough wool to make two full suits! But they are not as well endowed as the European sheep.
But these horses are not from here. They are all from Rajasthan. This is "Destiny", this one is "Jhansi"...this one is so big, but he is only 6 months old! Look at this one- he's actually 7 years old, but so tiny- it's a different breed."

We went  right up to the lake front. The water extended as far as we could see, rimmed by the mountains. "The lake is fed by these two streams from the mountains. We've never seen so much water, at least, not for the last seven years! You see those cows on the other side of the lake, on those hill slopes? Can you believe that earlier, they could actually walk across, over a bridge? You don't see it, but the bridge is actually submerged in the lake. We had record rains this year."
We listened to the commentary, all wide-eyed. "If you think that this lake is beautiful, it is nothing compared to the Upper Bhavani Lake! The Lake is somewhere up there...over those mountains- 20 km from here. You need special permission to visit the lake. They found 20 carcasses there, by the temple....." Karim jolted us...and then continued...."of mountain deer. It rained so much that the deer could not get down. There was no food and the older ones perished." Karim mentioned, in a matter of fact manner.
The rest of the afternoon was spent on horse riding while the more ambitious ones amongst us topped it with adventure sports like "monkey crawling", "rock/wall climbing" and "zip-lining".

At the parking lot...... It is a tight fit, but Karim is also huddled in our car. By now, the sun is down and the sky is lit with the after-glow, streaks of orange soon fade away into the grey of the sky and the mountains. The car goes past Lake Emerald and the Emerald township.

Earlier in the day, we went past the same landscape, completely bowled over by its untouched beauty. Sweeping meadows greeted us on every side. Like a Van Gogh painting, the gentle slopes came alive in the dazzling sunshine, crisscrossed with fields- tiny squares in deep-green, light-green and some in a dull olive-green hue. We thought it was tea; we later learnt that most of them were potato, carrot and cabbage.

There's not much to see- by now, it is pitch dark. Through the trees, we catch the twinkling of distant towns on the hill slopes....
"The 'britishers' (as Karim calls them) came to Ooty in the 1840s. The first route was through Kothagiri, from Mettupalayam. There were no stone houses in those days, just the semi-circular, wooden structures of the natives- the "thodas". The British built the first stone house, which stands to this day, as part of the Arts College. Next, came the railway from Ooty to Coonoor. The tracks have a tooth in the middle. This is unique to Ooty, not even the train at Darjeeling has this feature. The roads came much later. We are wonder struck how they could construct so much, in so little time... that too, in those days! You can check the markings still left on some of the bridges- it says 1908! While we wonder about the British and their ability to construct, the British themselves wonder about the pyramids of Egypt! How could they construct so much....?." Karim drifts away and we leave him to his thoughts.

"But the Brtishers made one big mistake! In fact two- they brought the "sholas" to Ooty and the eucalyptus. These two have ruined Ooty's ecology! These were all just grasslands- they say grass can save a person from death, (we need to ask Karim how!) but the British planted these sholas. Sholas are trees which take over the entire landscape- they are completely useless, they can't even give shade! As far as the eucalyptus goes, 30% of the water table in Nilgiris is sucked by them. We are now trying to cut down both of them.. in a phased manner, to reverse the process. It is tough, but it has to be done!"

Surprisingly, on our way back from Ooty, we spotted a sign-board which said "Save wildlife and protect the sholas"!!! We need to let Karim know that there are forces which are working against him!

By now, we are close to Fern Hill Palace. "This palace is run as a hotel by the Maharaja of Mysore, just like the Lalita Mahal Palace at Mysore. The Britsh used to stay in these parts of the town. Except for the collectorate office, there was not much in Ooty proper. You saw the Ooty Lake, isn't it? It extended right up till here, in those days."

Karim has a pink face and blue eyes, dark brown hair, and walks with a swagger of Dev Anand, with a shawl casually thrown over his shoulder. He speaks to men at the stable in Tamil, switches to Hindi as he briefly talks to his family over the cell.... and maintains fluency in English, when it comes to us. It is difficult to pin him down to a particular geography. 

He is remarkably fluid on any topic. He knows the International Schools in the area, how they were built by one Thomas from Kerala in the 1970s, where the foreign students come from... right down to how many students sit in each class!!  He insists that Lovedale Lawrence is still the best international school. You don't contest someone with such breadth of information.

Another bend- Karim says he is home... and has to get down. We catch the twinkle of his eye.. as he waves his hand, thanks us briefly and melts into the darkness.

Lake Avalanche, Lake Emerald and Karim... they are all reduced to a memory... vignettes of which we pull out from time to time... to add colour to our monochrome world!






 

"Golu" and "dashavatara"

Navratri is a fascinating time. South Indian families celebrate it with "golu" (or "kolu" as some choose to correct others)- idols and dolls are brought out of the dusty attic and arranged in steps. Shiva, Vishnu and Devi occupy centre-stage and share their space graciously with the Queen's Guard- that motionless soldier at the Buckingham Palace with the enviable head of hair! Ganesha, Kartikeya, Rama with Lakshmana, Sita and Hanuman, the Statue of Liberty, the Swiss cow-bell, the Taj Mahal, the snake charmer, the "marapaachis" (wooden couple), saints like Raghavendra swami and Adi Sankara, the "chettiar couple" selling grocery items- it is a motley crowd all right, but for nine days, they fill the home with their lively presence and make the occasion so entertaining.

No "golu" is complete without the ubiquitous "dasha-avataaram set". No golu is complete without glaring errors in arranging them! Seldom do folks go in for a "good sized dashavataram set". It looks as if the ten idols are purchased small, so that all of them can completely fit in one row with enough elbow room between them. There is also the occasional hazard of an over sized "matsya" or a "kalki" kept so close to the edge of the steps... that it can tip over...leaving only nine of them standing for the rest of the days!!
Invariably, the idols are small and lack detail. Most of them, except for the notable exception of Vamana and Kalki are coloured blue for Lord Vishnu is blue-hued. Moulds used for crafting the idols seem to have become jaded with repeated use over the years. The result is that the plough that Balarama wields looks exactly the same as Parashurama's axe as does Rama's bow.
To complicate it, Varaha is a boar and Kalki is depicted as a horse. It looks as if the same mould is used to cast both the idols and they are distinguished based on just their skin-tone. Varaha is black and Kalki is white. Matsya looks like a mermaid and Kurma has a turtle for its feet. Given the size of the images, they look just the same.

Surprisingly, folks who keenly celebrate golu are at a loss to even name the avataras in order. No wonder they can't get the arrangement right! Everyone begins with earnestness- "matsya", "kurma", "varaha"- the fingers go up in quick succession. Somehow, after the 4th avatara, they suffer a sudden bout of amnesia and lose steam. They reel off the rest of the avataras that they know and find that two fingers are still unaccounted for! They need to start from the beginning.. and suddenly remember that they missed Vamana the last time. But their count gets no better and this time, three fingers still remain!! It is inexplicable. Sometimes, you feel you need to help them out by saying "you forgot to count yourself!!" but the joke doesn't cut and you run the risk of being snubbed, for being plain silly.

The upshot is.... total confusion when it comes to dashavataram arrangement. There are golus where the avatarams are broken in half and arranged in 2 rows- a total no-no and completely robs the grandeur of the set. In some places, Kalki has traded places with someone as early as Varaha. Matsya and Kurma are swapped and when it comes to the sequence of "parashurama-rama-balarama-krishna", lesser said the better. No one ever gets it right.

There is a problem with Balarama. There are many who feel that he shouldn't be there in the first place. Like Ravindra Jadeja, Balarama needs to prove that he actually belongs to the side. We hope he can vindicate his selection with a match winning performance, but it may be too late, even with Balarama's all round capabilities!
Yuvraj's fans are sure that he is a better allrounder than Jadeja. So too, in the dashavataram side, there is a strong contingent out there, which would like Balarama's place taken up by Lord Buddha. But if you place Buddha, the batting lineup needs to be changed. Buddha can bat only after Krishna whereas Balarama is a better batsman and would play before Krishna! It all becomes terribly confusing.

But "golus" in South India rarely feature Buddha. Buddha didn't accept the validity of the vedas supposedly and it was reason enough to leave him out of the side. In the South, they go with the time tested side where Balarama always plays- no questions asked.
A South Indian lady invites friends home for golu, some of whom are from North India as well. They recognise the avataras on the steps and start the enumeration drill of "matsya", "kurma"...and stumble when it comes to Balarama.
"Arey Balram!?... but Krishn and Balram grew up together at Vrindavan no!? They are brothers kyon? How can they be different avataras?"
It is a tough question. Our South Indian "golu lady" stammers and slurs.

What people conveniently forget is that there is a more obvious example of avataras appearing together- Parashurama. Parashurama spanned three avataras- he was of course the hero in his own time, but he continued to live on and later confronted Rama. Not just that- he was present in Krishna's time too and taught archery to Karna and even battled with Bhishma.
Hence, this argument is not a satisfactory one to drop Balarama.

It all boils down to contribution and what value he brings to the side. It is here that Balarama faces a challenge. Either his exploits are actually few or he did not have a good marketing wing.
There are few stories where Balarama comes across as a true match winner. He is a little like Dravid- when he gets a hundred, a Laxman or a Sachin also scores a century and Dravid's contribution is overshadowed.

Many years ago, Adarsh Chitra Katha competed with our good old Amar Chitra Katha and brought out a comic on Balarama. We were still kids and hadn't yet learnt to read and had to be satisfied looking at the illustrations. In this book, Balarama took on a powerful monkey and with his bare hands, completely beat him up. The illustrations were engaging. To our childish eyes, the monkey looked like Hanuman... (despite the anachronism) and it appeared as if Balarama could challenge even the mighty Hanuman!
It was much later that we started to read and found out that the monkey was just another nondescript asura with an ape like form and had nothing to do with Hanuman! Even that prowess could not be ascribed to Balarama.

In the interest of maintaining the sequence in "golu" correct, I propose Buddha to be added to the pantheon. His image is well known and least confusing. You wouldn't trade his place for..say Narasimha! Even a person with reasonable knowledge of chronology would place him after Krishna.
Another approach would be to truncate the number of avataras to nine- nava-avataars for nava-raatri!

May I suggest an amicable solution to this entire mess- can these idols be made with the sequence numbers written at the bottom? As simple as that! It will solve the problem for good.

Till then, I will continue to be a proof-reader and inspect every golu... till they all get it right!!
Buddham sharanam gacchaami! Peace! Peace! Peace!!










 

"Murli Manohar Ganesha!"

Chk out this year's Ganesha, handcrafted from the "self hardening clay" from Michaels Artstore. Found a picture over the net and used the idea to try out a different pose. This year, there are pictures in the newspaper about "Spiderman Ganpati", "6-pack Ganpati" etc. This is not as dramatic as some of those all right.
Did toy with the idea of "Dhoni Ganpati"....executing a "helicopter shot"! May be, a different time!

Krishna (murli manohar) and Ganesh Chaturthi are of course connected. In many parts of the country, the story of Krishna and the episode of Syamantaka Mani is retold on this day. Krishna saw the moon on the day of Ganesh Chaturthi and had to pay for it with the allegation of  having stolen the Symantaka gem. Even avataras are not spared of infamy and accusation. Of course, later, Krishna redeemed himself.
We may accidently see the moon on this day and suffer a similar fate. But listening to this story of Krishna is supposed to act as an antidote. The reader may be familiar with all this.
 

Monstrosity of microphones

"Friends, Romans, Countrymen!" Hemant began, straining every nerve and sinew,  packing in as much emotion as he could muster. It was after all, the finals of the High School Elocution Competition. He bristled with enthusiasm. "Lend me your...." and just at that opportune moment, the microphone gave way. The speakers fell silent. Hemant looked confused and glanced hither and thither on stage,  unable to decide whether to continue or stop his spiel. The audience broke into chatter.
The organisers got their act together, quickly adjusted the microphone and Hemant was given the go-ahead.
"Friends, Romans, Countrymen!" Hemant's voice boomed once more, "lend me your ears, I come to bury...." and the microphone stopped. The speakers were not silent this time- that was the only improvement. They let out a continuous, dull, monotonous drone. This time, Hemant was clearly unnerved. He twitched and fidgeted on stage.
The microphone was given a tug, the wires were pulled and the speakers moved till the acoustics sprang to life. "Friends, Romans, Countrymen!" Hemant began tentatively. Gone was the earlier ring in his voice- he fumbled over the words as a convict would at the gallows! It was as if he expected trouble at the next bend...and sure enough he invited it. Before someone could lend him a ear, the acoustics fell apart. The boys simply loved it- they broke into laughter and jeered at the speaker with their palms around their mouths..each one doing imitation cat-calls of "Friends, Romans, Countrymen" in uniquely original ways!!
Sure enough, Hemant's future was sealed. He would do other things, but would never be a speaker  again.
The only incident which would upstage the above episode was the Dance Competition at Roorkee. The bharatanaatyam dancer gracefully pirouetted on stage to the tunes of the pushpaanjali- "thath-tho-dakataam"...and just when she stuck the most statuesque pose, the microphone fell silent. The dancer froze, maintaining the posture.. for 5 seconds..for 10, for 30 seconds...for a painful minute...waiting..waiting for the music to resume. It just wouldn't! The audience sprang to life and was in splits! Eventually, the dancer gave up, resigned herself to her fate and slunk away from the stage... only for the music to suddenly resume and throw her off completely!! Microphones can make or mar your life!

"Microphone" is too scientific a word. We know it simply as "mike". Mikes are like your four-year old. Normally, they behave in predictable ways, but off and on, just when the guests are at home, they lie down on the floor, kick their hands and legs and throw a sudden tantrum. You have no choice. You have to humour them.

As we wait with bated breath for the start of a program, there is always that officious gentleman who has the onerous task of testing all the mikes. He walks over to the dais, looking all important- "hello! check"... "check"..."mike check", "mike check 1-2-3"..."check"..."check" his voice echoes across the auditorium, mixed with the sound of heavy breathing that the audio system also picks up. He signals to someone on the other side to raise the treble or lower the bass... and continues... "check"..."check".."check".
Sometimes, it looks as if the job of a mike tester is given to someone who is incapable of speaking any other word. His vocabulary is limited to "check" and "1-2-3". The repetition mildly irritates the elderly person sitting behind me, "Instead of saying 'check', 'check' all the time and boring us... can't he at least chant the Lord's name...'Krishna-Rama-Govinda'!? He will earn some punya that way. He would have got moksha by now.. I say!!"

To contest this accusation of a limited vocabulary, the mike tester sometimes picks someone on the last row and questions, "Sir...do you hear me over there? Do you hear me?" Invariably, the gentleman on the last row responds with a "yes" in a voice loud enough for the person next to him to question... "what did you say?". It confuses the mike tester and he wants the volume cranked up some more. "Sir, do you hear him now...?"  he questions..with the entire hall reverberating. This exercise has always been a futile one- each one depending on the other to be heard. It is a problem of mutual dependence... anyonya aashraya....which can never be solved, unless they distribute mikes to everyone on the last row in advance!
Sir Patel, our drill teacher at Bosco had an effective technique. "Sridhar, you monkey! Sit down! David... donkey! Neeche baith!" he shouted from the dais as he tested the mikes out. If Sridhar sat down, Sir Patel knew that the mikes worked. As simple as that.

Musicians and mikes share a love-hate relationship. The vocalist is forever dissatisfied with the acoustics- either there is a feedback from the audio system and he doesn't like to hear his own voice, or there is no feedback and hence he does not know what he is singing!!
Violinists nurse a secret grudge that the vocalist keeps his own audio levels high and thereby drowns the sounds of the violin. They hate to be short-changed this way and are animated through out the concert- with hand signals that they want the audio level of the violin raised. No amount of volume pleases the violinist. The acoustics operator is clearly irked. The audience doesn't like it either. We wish we could educate the violinist- "Dude, if you increase the volume anymore, you will need to distribute ear-plugs and headache tablets at the start of the concert!!"
To prove his point,  the operator suddenly raises the volume to the maximum... so that the audio system groans and shrieks and squeals... and brings the recital to an abrupt halt. Sanity returns.. and audio levels are restored to the original levels. The audio operator has the last laugh!

Mikes have to be adjusted to the correct height. Stage fright often strangles the upstart so that he begins his speech or song immediately without checking this vital point. It is only after the first line that he suddenly realises that the mike is too low. Evidently, the participant before him was a kid and he is a six-footer. He is distracted now and looks silly- having to bend at his knees and stick his neck out just to align his face to the mouth piece!
Or the mike is too high... and he spends the entire duration on stage on tip toes! The most complicated situation is the one where the mike has not been clamped tightly...and even as the participant is singing.. it slides down slowly... making the participant also do a similar jig.

These days, there are some select auditoriums which pride themselves as "no acoustic equipment zones". We are made to believe that music or theatre is best enjoyed this way. We are not entirely sure how effective these experiments are. The sounds are too mild for our liking. Someone in the audience always wants to cough or sneeze or clear his throat and those sounds compete with the artiste's. Also, we come out of these performances with an added complex- that perhaps, with increasing years, we are not hearing as well... or may be, we need to visit the ENT specialist to drain some ear-wax out!! We prefer our concerts with mikes.

"In those days, there were no mikes. We didn't need them", my father began his favourite topic. I knew the next few sentences which would follow verbatim. "You look at the naadaswaram. Does it need a mike? You can hear it 10 furlongs away! You should have heard SG Kittappa. What a stentorian full-throated voice he had! He could span 4 octaves and beyond- the keertana "evarani" was his favourite. Look at the singers these days...they look so puny and have no voice-power. No wonder, they need a mike... and so close to their mouths. One of these days, somebody is going to accidentally swallow it.. I say!!!" he trails away.