Cricket in the shortwave era

"Who switched on the lights in the kitchen? Look at this....!It is interfering with the radio signal. How can one listen to the commentary with this kind of background noise?" my father, a Cricket nut to this day, would be thoroughly irritated.
"Can the entire household come to a standstill just because you need to listen to your Cricket? This is ridiculous!" my mother's voice would shoot back from the kitchen.

Those were different days- simpler days. A 600 square feet home in Mumbai- just  basic black and white TV, no telephones, no mobiles, no desktops, no laptops! Our view of the world was through a cassette-cum-radio player perched precariously on a stool in the bedroom. On days such as these, father would huddle around his gadget with his ears glued to the set.
Some of us were still in the process of deciphering the game of Cricket. We would tiptoe into the room- pitch dark, taking care not to stumble against the stool and upset father in the process. As though a voodoo ritual was in progress, the room would be filled with a medley of strange voices and sounds, a symphony from another world.

Listening to Cricket commentary over a shortwave radio broadcast was a stiff challenge. It required an artist's dexterity to manipulate the tuning so that it remained focused at the station. The radio was fickle and had a mind of its own. If the Cricket was desultory, it would automatically drift away to the adjoining station! It was both comical and at times frustrating. "Runs away from us... to bowl to Gavaskar...." The lyrical beauty of the commentary would be brutally cut short and the sentence would end with a gruff, non musical voice... "yeh akashvani.. abhi aap sunenge..." or we would suddenly land in the middle of some mindless Bollywood song!
India always played nail-biting Cricket. By the time we managed to get back to the station, by spinning the tuner a zillion times, a different batsman's name would be heard much to our dismay. We knew that a couple of wickets had tumbled! Those were inopportune times to ask father, "Did anyone get out?" We were sure to get an earful!

If it was the month of July, the clatter of rain filled the late evenings in Mumbai. It formed the backdrop against which the voices of John Arlott, Trevor Bailey, Brian Johnston and Christopher Martin Jenkins rang loud and clear in spurts and muffled and incomprehensible very soon. It all depended on a variety of factors- signal strength, cloud cover, lights turned on at home, the angle of the antenna, the pressure that the fingers applied to hold onto the antenna and finally on the fancies of the instrument! If it was December, Richie Benaud and Alan McGilvray woke us up from Australia. We slept lulled by Tony Cozier's voice in the Caribbean.
Slowly, we learnt to associate a name with each voice. These gentlemen were masters of their trade. Live images from the Oval came floating through their words and we could feel the pulsating action underway just at that moment in England. In a sense, "watching" the action would have robbed us of our imagination. Gavaskar's epic 221 is part of folklore because we didn't "watch" it. Sunny stood out.. more alive through the words of John Arlott- as the lone knight in shining armour, who took on the might of the English bowling for two whole days..  to the threshold of victory, only to eventually falter....! What a heartbreak!

Summer vacation took us to Kumbakonam. Father's cousin stayed at Dabir Street. At dinner time, he would come nattily dressed and peering through his spectacles announce with a note of triumph- "97 for 2 at lunch"! It didn't in the least matter that he was talking about a match played between England and West Indies. Cricket nuts, even in nondescript places felt "connected" to the world through their short wave radios and followed Cricket just for the satisfaction of it!
My father says that he learnt his Cricket from "Jailor mama", "Gondu mama" (who had an upturned nose, we're told) and "Drill Master" at Tiruvidaimarudur.... a remote town in a remote corner of India. It boasts of a temple, a row of houses, a few street dogs and fields stretching till the horizon.
How we wish these simple folks could have reached out to John Arlott and confided that his voice - nasal, rhythmic and poetic all at once- soothed their evenings! Wouldn't he be pleased as punch!?

We are all innocent!

"We are helpless. Nehruvian policies are responsible sir! Had Sardar Patel been the PM, we would have been a developed country by now, much like Singapore. But we are doing our best. It takes time to undo the misdeeds of the last 60 years, get to a clean slate and then show some progress. It is not magic!"
We are not in a position to interview Nehru on what his compulsions were half a century ago. But we have enough and more spokespersons who can read Nehru's mind and speak on his behalf. Talk to them and we are convinced that Nehru himself should be absolved of all blame. The problem was inherited by him.
"India was systematically looted for over three hundred years. The kohinoor diamond.. where do you think it is ?...... In the British Museum! Hence, by the time India became independent, we had to literally start from scratch. It was Panditji's vision that led to the five year plans and the formation of IITs. This IT revolution ... on which you software fellows are riding ....is ultimately Panditji's brainchild! Please give credit where it is due... and don't simply malign our leaders!"
India always seems to have had issues going by the High School History textbooks. As per this history, British inherited an India ravaged by the Mughals. The Mughals made inroads into India because of the divisive nature of India's kings, this fissiparous tendency had its origins in the caste system, the caste system itself is attributed to the Vedas, the Vedas are after all... anaadi (birthless) and authorless! Our investigation clearly hit a dead-end in an effort to find an explanation for the current state of affairs.

Not just India- it is impossible to find a culprit in any field... for any problem. "The buck stops here" is possibly only a paper weight in Obama's office!
"There are so many bugs (defects) in this feature! The project is currently "in red" and management is concerned about the software quality. Why are so many defects showing up just before customer delivery? An urgent post mortem is required!"  the project manager in a top IT firm is indignant.
But the software engineers have a different story. "If we look at these bugs, almost all of them are "baseline" defects. The previous release also had them. It's just that with this new feature, those baseline issues are getting exposed!"
"Baseline" is a peculiar term in software development- a faceless entity on which you can pin all your faults with no questions asked. The previous release had baseline issues, the one before that also had baseline issues and it seems to extend ad infinitum.. even predating the age of computers and software development!

After every major incident in our country, our minister will usually condemn "this most cowardly act" or for a change as "this most dastardly act". A couple of days later, we will hear- "We have some promising leads and we are pursuing them." Soon, a few individuals will be rounded up as "suspects" and paraded (often covered with a hood) in full view of the TV cameras.
Invariably, we've always caught the wrong people!
"They are innocent boys incapable of harming even a fly! We are victimized!" we often hear from their guardians. Sure enough, in some time, when the immensity of the "incident" has been wiped from our memories, these suspects are released. "Our stand is vindicated today! Justice has been delayed, but at least not denied," they announce gleefully, with a victory sign as they emerge from their confines. The perpetrator of the crime is always someone else who is "still at large".

If a suspect initially admits that he is guilty, in some time, he revises the story with the claim that the confession was extracted from him "under duress". No proof is good enough to nail anyone. If there is video footage, it is grainy and hence inconclusive. If the video footage is conclusive, it has been morphed using technology. Otherwise, it is a "sting operation" which cannot be used in a court of law. If the culprit is caught red-handed, the victim has an out-of-court settlement and suggests that the entire episode is "unfortunate" and should be buried. Every suspect is invariably innocent and a victim of a conspiracy hatched by some dark forces or at least a foreign hand. Scams of astronomical proportions abound, but even by mistake, we cannot get to the guilty. The one who is currently booked often reads "spiritual books for solace" in the confines of the cell and looks sick. We feel sorry for him and are relieved when he is finally let out.

We are yet to hear "I am guilty" in an unequivocal, unambiguous voice! I don't think we will ever get to the guilty. No one is guilty. We are all innocent! It is an age of innocence.
At the "Annual Thread Changing Ceremony", (please read my previous post for reference), we chant "Kaamo'kaarsheet, manyura'kaarsheet namo namah" 108 times. The import is, "Lord, I did not commit any sin the entire year! If at all some objectionable acts are ascribed to me, I would say in my defence, that it was the "desire (kaama)" in me or the "anger (manyu)" in me that led me astray. Left to myself, I am as innocent as a lamb! If at all you need to punish, you can go after kaama-devata (desire) and manyuh-devata (anger). But I am truly blameless!"
Thus, Veda itself frees us from all crime and associated guilt.

The truth of the matter is... as the Geeta says... "Nirdosham hi samam brahma". The essential part of each individual, the spirit, "brahma" is "nirdosh".. free from any blame, any defect.. whatsoever.
Whenever someone blames us, we immediately recoil, claim our essential nature and shout aloud- "We are nirdosh, basically divine, intrinsically blameless, truly innocent!"

"Hey, if everyone is innocent, what about these evils all around us?"
"The guilty will answer that question........!"
...
"Hey, how come there is now..total silence!?"

Ganpati bappa morya!

Much as we would like to resist, the pandal is brought down step by step. The tarpaulin sheet rolled up in a bundle, the bamboos stacked up in a corner and the ropes thrown in a heap. The stage is dismantled, the decoration pulled apart- some of it salvaged for the next year. Soon, space- empty and void is all that remains; so removed from the excitement that enthralled one and all. A trail of heavy hearts is left behind as the 10-day Ganpati festival draws to a climactic close at Mumbai. The next day to school or to work is such a drag!

Every city has a culture uniquely its own. Chennai has the month long music festival and Kolkata its navratri puja. For Mumbai, it has to be Ganesh Chaturthi.

Ganpatis come in all shapes, sizes, hues and postures. Some of them acquired a star status of their own. The thespian, Raj Kapoor's Ganpati was awaited with bated breath on the day of "visarjan" (immersion). The float had a standard pattern- idols of Shiva and Parvati alongside Ganesha. Water spouted out of Shiva's matted locks and drenched the expectant crowd on both sides of the road. As per tradition, Raj Kapoor made it a point to advertise his upcoming film on the float - another reason for the huge turnout. There were equal number of people who came to gape at the posters of "Satyam Shivam Sundaram" and "Mera naam joker" as those who were more spiritually inclined! It was all perfectly fine.

Lalbaug cha Raja (King of Lalbaug) and the idol at Ganesh Galli were amongst the biggest and the best- 8 metres tall and majestically propped on a hooded serpent or a gigantic rat! There was another popular Ganpati,  referred in hushed tones as "Smuggler Ganpati"! Even Ganpati has to pay a price for the company he keeps!  After all, He is the  Lord of the good, the bad and even the ugly!
Ganesha stars in many avatars- with a bow and arrow as Lord Rama, perched on Garuda as though he is Vishnu and even armed with a mace like Hanuman. At Dharavi, He appeared as a "Madrasi Ganpati"- with vibhuti on foreheard and a simple curl of the trunk.
Non-madrasi Ganpatis sported a red chandra-bindu on the foreheard and had animated trunks- trunks which jutted out and had a couple of twists before resting on the chest. The North-South divide was as straightforward as that!

There was a new trend to portray Ganesha in modern costumes to sprinkle some humour- dressed up as a soldier and protecting the LOC at Kargil, handing over the World Cup to Kapil Dev and who knows, maybe, even as Anna this time! Ganpati as Anna will be a challenge, even for Ganpati- He will have to hold on to a modak, nice and enticing- without the luxury of putting it into his mouth! Ganesha may object to this makeover!
Some idols were truly divine; the eyes- almond shaped and doe-like, glistening and life-like, with a beatific smile. Rarely though, the idol appeared to have a scowl and seemed displeased with the general scheme of things!

The artisans let their imagination run riot and through their simple creation drove home the concept of "sarva-aatma-bhaava"- The One alone appears as the entire creation and as other Gods we hold dear.

Word of mouth took us to these locations, each dazzled with breathtaking props and amazing artistry. It was just like Disneyland, only the theme-park was as big as the city! There were goodies to be collected at each venue- modaks, sugar candies, an appetizing mix of rice flakes and jaggery; some so delicious that we would come back a second time to complete our meal! Bhajans and bollywood chartbusters vied with each other over loudspeakers, dandiya beats and disco lights formed the backdrop for austere vedic chanting!

It is just this juxtaposition of opposites, so indicative of Mumbai itself, that makes this festival endearing- a time for people to forget their work-a-day world and immerse themselves in a larger than life, community revelry. We need it now more than ever.

Today is the day of visarjan. I'm possibly a 1000 km from Mumbai. Standing outside my balcony, I can visualize the scene in Mumbai unfolding just now..... and let out a full throated cry.. "Ganpati Bappa Morya!"
The countdown has begun...355 sleeps to the next Ganpati!
Pudcha varshi lavkar yaa.....Agle baras tu jaldi aa!!


P.S.
If I have a regret, it's my inability to join the dance during visarjan! Rajesh, Harnish, Prasad, Naresh, elders from a different generation- the dimunitive Mr Palvia, Ashish's dad and even "motaa mummy" (who was really huge)... almost everyone could smear a "gulal tilak" on their forehead and break into a little jig so effortlessly! It didn't bother them in the least whether they were in step with the music or whether they followed any rhythm at all! They just let themselves loose, swung their hands and legs about as they pleased and had a great time!
In contrast, some of us were too shy and self conscious- we used to watch the proceedings with folded hands as mute spectators. At times, someone would pull us into the dance ring; we would protest and cringe and sheepishly shrink into the sidelines again! Dude.....can you be a better sport!? 

A pipe dream!

Some expressions in English are confusing. We've long lost the context in which they were originally used. Take the expression- "It is a pipe dream". Today, it is used to convey an idea which is fantastic, but has absolutely no hope of being realized. There is a feeling of helplessness and a deep anguish associated with the phrase and invariably conjures up grainy, black and white images of perennially pained characters like Guru Dutt! 

How did "pipe dream" originate? Would a budding plumber have started it- with a modified version of Martin Luther King, Jr's speech: "I have a dream....... well, actually... a pipe dream!"? Is "pipe dream" a compound noun or is "pipe" an adjectival usage? Can we "pipe" dreams and use it as a verb?

Moving into a newly constructed home is a pipe dream for many of us. Everything is in place but the running water! We grapple with civic authorities, make several trips and when all else fails, we grease a few palms as well. After all, I am not Anna! The pipes are laid out and the connects greased all right, but when we cup our palm below the tap, not a droplet of water trickles out of the pipe! In exasperation, we throw up our hands and exclaim- it is still a pipe dream!

Mumbai is a city of staggering contrasts. There are some who gift an entire 70 storey building to their wives and others who spend a lifetime in the hollow of a roadside pipe! Above all, we are made to believe that it is a city of dreams- of people who land up from nondescript villages with no money, stay in a pipe and dream big! It surely is a pipe dream.

"Everything I like is either illegal, immoral or fattening!" chuckles an old-timer with a wry sense of humour! "I work hard and earn good money. If I have a vice, it is just this one- to smoke an honest pipe at the club, over a game of cards. Am I not entitled to this simple pleasure? I don't need this pontification from the likes of you- that smoking is injurious to health and I shouldn't smoke in public places! Where else can I indulge in my pipe dream?"

A "Coffee rasika" is finicky with an unreal expectation. The coffee has to be more than perfect!  Only filter coffee please- the decoction just right, the chicory content- correct to the decimal, milk and sugar calibrated with a test tube. Above all, the temperature has to be exact on the tongue scale. Offer him a lukewarm cup of coffee and he shows his disgust- "Can't I dream of a good cup of coffee at least? How many times have I told you that it has to be hot- piping hot!"

"I play the pipe, but there is not much money or interest in it these days", confesses an outspoken musician. "I don't like to blow my own trumpet! I fall in the same lineage as the maestro Rajaratnam Pillai, but my pet peeve is that nadaswaram artistes like me have got relegated to just these marriage halls. All that they want is a group of people to sit in a corner, play the pipe and make some noise! My dream was to make it big- to play the pipe at the Academy during the Music Season. It's going to remain a pipe dream saar!"

English is a funny language all right. "A fiddler on the roof" is actually fiddling with his fiddle and not involved in any objectionable activity. And yes, non-fiddlers too can play a second fiddle to someone. Enough of this play on words!

When am I going to master all these nuances of the language? It is a pipe dream - I need to drum it into my head!!

The Annual Thread Changing Ceremony

I look forward to the "Annual Thread Changing Ceremony". Invariably, the event almost always provides comic relief to last an entire year, when we come back to replenish the stock! The event falls on the day of "shraavani paurnami", the full-moon day in the month of "shraavan", typically in the month of July. Well known as "Raksha-bandhan" across the country, for some of us, it is also the day when the sacred thread has to be changed. Of course, the day has a religious significance which is not completely lost on me. But that's a serious topic which we will defer... for another day.

For now, just want to capture the lighter moments, which are many!

Procrastination is my second nature. The previous evening is when I typically panic and hurriedly plan for the event- to unfold the following morning. Frantic phone calls need to be made to family and friends to find an appropriate venue for the event, organized at various places in the city. Each one has a different suggestion- the temple across the street, a remote "chatram" (marriage hall), a club-house at an apartment complex, at home with an audio cassette and some scribbled notes as reference, over the telephone with an old hat babbling mantras from the other side or even via the internet, with skype!!

I've been to locations ranging from the sublime to the ridiculous. The "Makara-vaahini" temple on the banks of the Ganga in Haridwar was possibly the most picturesque venue for the ceremony- Shivalik foothills in the distance and the Ganga- gushing away at arms-reach.

The other end of the spectrum was surely the Ranka Colony venue. We were all made to squat on one side of a volley ball court with the priest on the other side and a net between us! It was hard on the eye to keep track of him through the volley ball net, and equally hard on the ear to catch the mantras since there was no microphone and his voice was lost in the general hub-hub of traffic. The result was a total fiasco. I emerged from the event with both the new and the old sacred thread on my person, since I had completely missed the crucial part where the old thread had to be discarded!!

Getting dressed for the event is half the battle. Wearing a dhoti is a challenge for most of us. It has problems aplenty- the material is transparent, seemingly open from every side and with the capacity to slide down from the waist without notice! If there is an Act for Obscene Exposure, many of us would be booked and held in the lock-up for the rest of the day! I've never managed to find a dhoti long enough- once you tie it up in "pancha-style", you find that it comes only till the knee roll! The legs stick out like a pair of  thin pipes, and you end up looking plain stupid. I've noticed that this costume provokes street dogs- which is a worry, you can't even run for cover (pun unintended)!

"For you, we need to buy an 8 yards dhoti, 6 yards will not do!" someone comments at home when I protest at the lack of length. I just don't care. Can someone get that 10 or even 20 yard dhoti so that I don't have to go through this every year ?

"Appa! Where are you going so early in the morning dressed like a clown!?" my daughter rubs her sleepy eyes and questions.

"How many times have I told you NOT to ask where I am going when I am going somewhere ?" I know that the answer only added to her confusion. Anyway, I slam the door and make a quick getaway!

The venue is a strange sight- a sea of bare-chested  (and bear-chested!) men. There are no perfect human bodies who come to change the thread- no Salman Khans and Hrithik Roshans to flaunt their well toned bodies, rippling muscles and the much touted  six abs! Ordinary human beings come with their physical quirks- either they are straight out of the famine in Somalia or too well endowed- with an overflowing beer belly, fat and opulence oozing out from every side! The children who have been recently indoctrinated have a different problem- if they remove their shirt, their backs get itchy and they indulge in a whole lot of body contortions to find some relief!

The head-priest is the master of the ceremony. His voice is at best feeble and muffled; and over the boom (and the occasional squeal) of the microphone, it resembles the "platform number announcers" at the railway station. The most important part of the sentences are lost and we are left high and dry.

One has to be careful and attentive at the ceremony. There are some parts which have to be recited only by Shaivas, some by Vaishnavas, some by unmarried people, some by married people, some only by folks with no living parents and still others reserved for first-timers!

There are instructions to wear the thread as a garland, then back to the normal style and for select people, there are instructions to wear it the opposite way. Water has to be cupped and poured off the palm in a leg-spinner's action and at times poured out from the back of the hand like an Anil Kumble googly!

The details are bewildering and the priest aggravates it further by mentioning that an incorrect action would attract paapa (sin) as well! Staying silent and aloof appears a better choice in an exam paper riddled with negative marking!

"Two threads for me!" "Brahmachaari thread for my boy please!" "I am missing a dharbhaa (special puja grass). Can I have one ? Some extra will also be good! I can use it for tomorrow's Gaayatri japam". "Does someone have some akshataa ?" "I need a little bit of yellu (til seeds). Can I borrow it?" - the demands are many.

A techie has forgotten the most important piece of equipment he should have brought with him, the "pancha-paatra (puja-vessel) and uddharani (puja-spoon)". There is a suggestion that he could possibly borrow a tumbler and a spoon from the Adigas Restaurant, two streets away! There is consensus that the spirit is important and an Adigas spoon is good enough!

Now, for the important part. The sacred threads are distributed in a peculiar way- wrapped up in a ball. Each candidate has to unravel the thread first, so that it is made nice and long, and then wait for instructions from the priest to put it on. Unraveling the thread is the most difficult act in this entire ceremony. Many a mighty candidate has had mud on his face and cut a sorry figure! A bit of carelessness in handling the thread and you end up in knots- knots which could keep you busy for the rest of the ceremony. It has the propensity to be more slimy than solving the Rubik's Cube- you think you've finally got it right, but you've only complicated the situation still more with that last move!

Children get scolded for no fault of theirs, adults look sheepish and ask for another fresh thread and end up in the same tangle once more.... !

The priest is visibly upset. He can't understand how people can be so uninformed. When the instructions to discard the old thread was given, a rather clueless youngster chose to stand up, have the old thread slide down and removed off his feet like an underwear when it should have been removed simply off the shoulders!! 

Another one has no old thread to discard. "I guess I lost the thread a few months ago when I went for a swim!" he answers nonchalantly, with an irreverent shrug of the shoulders.

The priest shakes his head in disapproval and mutters under his breath which is thankfully edited by the microphone. Hinduism appears in definite danger!

Once the new thread is worn and the old one discarded, the people get fidgety and impatient. They need to leave right away! One candidate's mobile goes off and he has an urgent call from his office! The next batch of people are waiting in the wings for the matinee show and want this morning show ended! People collide with each other to pay dakshina to the priest, deposit the coconuts and betel leaves, take the prasaada, discard their dhotis, get into their jeans and get the hell out of here!

Impatience comes for a price. The candidate who had to leave on his work assignment urgently is back. Apparently, he had his home-keys tied to his sacred thread. In the excitement, he had discarded his old thread along with the keys! As I leave the place, he is still rummaging through the garbage in an attempt to fish out his old thread and his keys! My sympathies are with him. Good luck!

     

Autorickshaw altercations - part 2

All sorts of thoughts race through your mind when you are stranded on the road,  close to midnight. You wonder whether the unfolding drama is staged in any way and there is risk to your person or property. Ram Gopal Varma's movies (even his non horror films are a horror!) supply ample material for our fertile imagination to run riot so that every move is viewed with suspicion and every creak with fear! The weather didn't help soothe the nerves either- a stiff wind picked up and howled through the trees and soon made way for a lazy drizzle, so indicative of Bangalore.

After what looked an eternity, spent in distrust and nervous tension, an autorickshaw finally came our way. The driver exchanged a few words and swung his arms about in an animated manner with the other auto-driver.

I almost got a whiplash from a sudden jerk and a kick at the back. As I craned my neck and looked behind, a most bizarre sight presented itself. The driver of the other auto stuck one foot out and pressed it against the rear of our auto. As he drove his auto with the other foot, we were prodded along, much like a recalcitrant buffalo! All that my auto driver had to do was to stay on course by holding the steering. This strange cavalcade moved along quite nicely till we hit the petrol bunk. Our benefactor and his equally cooperative customer had done their good deed for the day and sped away with a wave and a flourish!

The driver had no money to pay for the petrol and required my help. I protested, but had little alternative but to pay upfront.

We were on our way once more when I noticed that the meter had not been turned on at all! "You are telling me now, after we've covered a good 10 kilometers that the meter is not on ?" the driver argued immediately. It appeared that a good offence was the best part of his defence! It ticked me off and I gave him a piece of my mind.

"Guru! Is it my responsibility to turn the meter on ? Who should be turning it on ? Didn't I insist multiple times at the station that I will pay only by the meter ? I know you folks very well. I am sure this is a deliberate ploy to hoodwink the gullible customer! Don't think I am new to..."

Not knowing the local language is a nuisance at these times. We are tongue tied and lack the fluency to put our point across forcefully... though in print now, it appears quite fluid! As we stutter and stammer to gather our words, the opponent gains the upper hand and makes us look meek and submissive!

In irritation, he turned the meter on and trailed away with some words which were lost on me. The meter rose to life like a phoenix and looked desperate to make up for lost time and money! The numbers rolled away at a frantic pace with the frenzy of a slot machine at Las Vegas. I was convinced that it was incrementing even when we briefly paused at the signal, but just didn't have the vocabulary to voice the concern!

I heaved a sigh of relief when a maze of lanes, by-lanes, dead-ends, T-junctions, round-abouts and forever construction-riddled streets eventually took us to Jayadeva Hospital. Roads were conspicuous by their absence! From Jayadeva, it is a drive all the way on Bannerghatta Road. Just when I thought that it's going to be a piece of cake from this point onwards, the driver was seized with a sudden fit of drowsiness and abruptly halted at the way-side tea stall. Tempers had cooled by now and at my expense, he helped himself to a puff of beedi and a steaming cup of tea. The indulgence wouldn't end and I wondered whether I would have to pay for his new pair of jeans should Shopper's Stop be open! Thankfully not.

Home at last! Now, for the tough part-

The meter had got stranded at 99, much like a batsman painfully run-out before he could get to his century. The contraption required a manual reset so that it could resume once more from zero, but that crucial point had been completely missed in all the excitement. Worse, the driver held me squarely responsible for not alerting him when the meter hit the nervous nineties!  

Things had gone out of hand and had to be wrapped up quickly. I had paid him enough on the way. There was no way we could go by the meter reading any more. I handed him a fifty rupee note. He looked at it with some disbelief and refused to touch it. I tried to press him gently a couple of times by even placing the rupee in the crook of his elbow, but he wouldn't budge.  "Guru! Tagoli! Take it! You can buy some sweets for your wife and kids!" I added with a supercilious air of generosity, but there was still no response.

I interpreted the reaction as some concession that he was allowing me for the trouble that I had endured. Jolly good fellow after all, in this time and age! I carefully put the note back in my wallet and walked away, happy as a lark, with a new spring in my steps!

Visibly enraged, the driver heckled and ran after me and held me by the collar. Evidently, I had completely misread the situation. He needed the fifty rupees and in fact my entire wallet! Tempers flared up and invectives were hurled at each other in our respective languages, incapable of hurting the other man! The quietness of the night was ruffled and thankfully alerted the security guard. 

Now that the guard was by his side, Sugreeva's confidence was suddenly boosted! He cast his timid self away and could take on Vali and quite a few disgruntled auto-drivers as well!  The dealings were finished in quick time. The outcome did not completely please either party, but then, that's life.

The iron gates creaked as the security guard let me in and bolted the gate.  

P.S: This episode is largely based on a recent conversation with Bhaskar (friend, philosopher and guide for close to 20 years). I have used his narration with some of my observations. He even mentioned a technical name for the autorickshaw-cavalcade. I need to get that term from him to complete this narrative!

Chidambara rahasyam- The secret of Chidambaram

Finally completed the painting of the Chidambaram gopuram. It has taken well over 6-7 months, stealing an hour in the evening on weekdays and more over the weekends. The medium is oil on canvas, about 3ft by 2 ft- in line with the temple themes I've painted lately.

The inspiration is of course the legendary temple artist "Silpi" who has rendered exquisite pen-and-ink drawings of most Indian temples. My father has also done over a hundred pen-and-ink drawings of temples and continues to churn out more.

Wanted to use the backdrop of this painting to write a few facts about Chidambaram.

1. Dance of Nataraja:

Chidambaram is synonymous with Lord Shiva as Nataraja, the Lord of Dance. This is one of the few temples where Lord Shiva is represented in an "anthropomorphic" (pratimaa) form, i.e. with human features. Typically, in all Shiva temples, He is worshipped as a "prateeka" (abstract symbol), as a Shiva linga. Of course, even in normal Shiva temples, Shiva as Nataraja and Dakshinaamurti can be found in the prakaara (corridor), but rarely as the principal deity. This is a special feature about Chidambaram.

Two facts are worth remembering about Nataraja:

1. Symbol of pancha-kritya (five-fold action)- The stylish stance of Nataraja symbolizes the five-fold function of the Lord- as the creator, protector, destroyer, "binder" and "releaser".

The damaru held in one hand depicts him as the creator, for creation begins with "creation of space". The damaru is a percussion instrument with a unique sound and denotes "space" (because sound is supposed to be a special attribute of space). 

The fire held in the other hand indicates the Lord as the destroyer.

The abhaya-hasta mudra points to the Lord as the protector.

The right leg which holds the demon down represents the Lord as the "binder"; the one who ensures that mortals are bound to the material world and subject to the cycle of repeated birth and death.  

The uplifted left-leg represents Shiva as the great "releaser", the one whose grace can bestow moksha and free a person from the cycle of samsara.

Of these, the first three functions are well known. He alone is the binder (tiro-daana-karta). He alone is the moksha-kartaa too. These two functions are not so popular but need to be included whenever we talk about God as the creator, protector and destroyer.

2. Two special spectators:

The sculpture of Nataraja typically shows two figures (at the base) who watch Lord Shiva's dance: Vyaghrapada and Patanjali.

Vyaghrapada has the feet of a tiger and Patanjali's lower body is like a serpent.

Adi Sesha, the thousand-headed serpent on whom Lord Vishnu rests expressed a special wish to watch Lord Nataraja's dance at Chidambaram. His wish was fulfilled when he was born as Patanjali. He went on to write a treatise on Sanskrit grammar which will be elaborated in one of the following sections.

2. Pancha-bhuta sthala:

Lord is the creator and also appears as the very creation. This concept is one of the striking features of Hinduism. To impress this fact on the devotee, Lord Shiva is worshipped as the five-elements (pancha-bhutas): He is space, He is fire, He is air, He is water and He is the earth. Everything in the creation (bhautika-prapancha) is a combination of these 5 elements (bhutas). Thus, in one stroke, the scripture breaks the divide between the sacred and the secular and proclaims that the universe is not a "matter bundle" to be treated casually, but should be seen with reverence, for it is the very manifestation of the Lord.

At Chidambaram, Lord Shiva is worshipped as space.

At Tiruvannamalai, He is invoked as fire. 

At Jambukeshwaram (near Trichy), He is seen as water.

At Kalahasti (near Tirupati), He is appreciated as air.

At Kanchipuram, He is praised as the very earth.  

3. Chidambara rahasyam:

Even in common parlance (especially in Tamil), we hear the expression, "Is it some chidambara rahasyam that you cannot reveal the secret!?" Chidambaram is well known for the Chidambara rahasyam (secret).

The temple has a special enclosure covered with a curtain. The priest parts the curtain so that we can have a glimpse inside the enclosure. It is completely empty though some people claim that we can see "golden bilva leaves" on the wall.

Opinions differ on what the great secret is.

We can interpret it in two ways:

1. A simple interpretation is that He is exists as the very space and hence as everything in the universe.

We are prone to keep God safely in the heavens and the secret revealed here enables us to break this concept and embrace him as everything around us.

2. There is a vedantic interpretation as well. Scripture uses expressions like "raaja-guhyam" (greatest secret) (Geeta Chp 9) and "aashcharyavat pashyati kashchit yenam" (people look upon this as the greatest wonder) in Geeta Chp 2 to emphasize that ultimately, the Lord exists as the very subject, I, the consciousness, the observer, the life-breath....in each of us. What can be a greater secret than to know that He is closer than the closest ?

Chidambaram can be broken into "chit" and "ambaram". Chit is consciousness, awareness, due to which I claim, "I am aware of a pot, aware of a tree etc."

Ambaram is space. Space is, time is, mountain is. He exists as the very "is-ness", "existence" in everything.

When the curtain is parted by the priest and we express our disappointment and announce "there is nothing".... nothing "is"! And more importantly, the subject exists to be aware and claim that there is nothing!

Hence, outside, he exists as the very "is-ness" in everything ("sat" in Sanskrit) and inside, he exists as the very "subject", the onlooker ("chit"). (Scripture often uses the expression "sat-chit-ananda" to define the Lord.)

There is nothing other than Him! This is the greatest unbelievable secret.

4. Confluence of vaishnavite and shaivite shrines:

108 shrines are famous for Vishnu bhaktas- 105 in India, one in Nepal and two in other worlds! One of them is the Govindaraaja-perumaal temple which exists inside the premises of the Chidambaram temple.

Shaivites (Shiva devotees) and Vaishnavites (Vishnu devotees) may quarrel over the superiority of their respective Gods, but at Chidambaram, Vishnu and Shiva co-exist happily. As per tradition, Vishnu officiated as the umpire for a dance competition between Nataraja and Parvati at Chidambaram! No prizes for guessing the winner- of course Shiva, but he won just by a whisker!

5. Moksha linga:

Adi Shankara is one of India's greatest saints. We don't exactly know when he lived- there are dates ranging from 500 BC to 700 AD. But his accomplishments as a saint, philosopher and poet are unparalleled. He visited Mt Kailas and brought back five crystal Shiva lingas. These were installed at different places in the country.

He installed the "moksha linga" at Chidambaram,

the "mukti linga" at Kedarnath (Uttarakhand),

the "yoga linga" at Kanchipuram,

the "bhoga linga" at Sringeri and

the "vara-linga" in Nepal.

6. Centre of Learning:

As per tradition, from the sound of Nataraja's footwork, the "Maaheshwara sutras" were born. Panini wrote his treatise on Sanskrit grammar based on these sutras. Panini's work was too subtle and required elaboration. Patanjali (referenced earlier) expounded Panini's sutras in his Mahabhashya. He taught the Mahabhashya at Chidambaram. People from all over India came to learn the Mahabhashya at Chidambaram.

The story told in "Patanjali Charita" mentions Gaudapada, who came from Gauda desha (Bengal) to Chidambaram to study the Mahabhashya.

Later in the story, we learn that Chandra Sharma from Ujjain (in other versions from Kashmir) was on his way to Chidambaram when he met Gaudapada midway.

Gaudapada and Chandra Sharma (later known as Govinda bhagavadpada) lived around the time of Adi Shankara and were his teachers. Thus, Chidambaram must have been a well known centre of learning during that time.

7. References in carnatic music:

Carnatic music abounds with compositions on the Lord of Chidambaram.

Some examples:

1. The Tamil pallavi "Tillai ishanai kaana yenna... punyam seideno ?" (what punya-act did I perform to get the opportunity to see the Lord (isha) of Chidambaram (tillai) ?) set to raaga Kambhoji is my favourite. It has a dramatic opening and continues to give goosebumps each time I listen to it, especially the way "TVS saar" sings it! Unfortunately, I cannot get a link to it over the internet. Kambhoji is supposedly Lord Shiva's favourite raaga and mine. One fact is non-verifiable, but my love-affair with Kambhoji began with this pallavi more than two decades ago and has never been contested!

2. Gopalakrishna Bharati's Tamil composition "Sabhapati" in the raaga Abhogi is often rendered in concerts with neraval centred on the line- "Oru daram Shiva Chidambaram...." (It is enough to say 'Shiva-Chidambaram' even once!)

Here is Aruna Sairam's stirring version.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=in9kdBgGWoY

3. Dikshitar has the Sanskrit composition "Chidambara nataraajam ashraye" set to the raaga Kedaaram (aptly).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FBU1C5y2YtM

4. Another work in the same raaga,  by the same composer is Ananda Natana Prakaasham.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ge6cii3aRfk

Dikshitar's forte is to pack his composition with all relevant details regarding the deity and the place. Most points discussed above can be gleaned from a close study of his works.

5. Papanasam Sivan's popular composition "Maa ramanan Umaa ramanan" is intertwined with Chidambaram in a special way. "Maa" refers to the Goddess Lakshmi. "Umaa" refers to Parvati. "Ramanan" is beloved. Hence, "maa ramanan" refers to Lakshmi's beloved i.e. Lord Vishnu and "umaa ramanan" refers to Parvati's beloved, i.e. Lord Shiva. As we saw earlier, Chidambaram is special for both Lord Shiva and Lord Vishnu.

Appayya Dikshitar,  one of the well known erstwhile saints, used this rhyming epithet when he visited Chidambaram, which has been nicely borrowed by Sivan in his composition.

Sivan indulges in one more word play in the song: "Maara janakan" (refers to Lord Vishnu who is Maara, i.e. Manmatha's father) and "Kumaara janakan" (Lord Shiva, who is Kumaara i.e. Kartikeya's father).

A pleasant rendition by Unnikrishnan in the raaga Hindolam.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DAdV2ADqsNg

6. Would like to end this write-up with Papanasam Sivan's Tamil composition "kaanavendaamo" set to the raaga Sriranjani. It's a moving number where the poet questions "kaanavendaamo ?" (shouldn't we make time to see ?) the Chidambaram gopuram while we are still hale and hearty ?

Here is Sanjay Subramaniam's version:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=haHIkMlKu6U

There were several evenings when I would play this piece in the background and just paint away.

Carnatic music is an acquired taste. I have no idea why it works for some of us... like nothing else does!!