Temple Run

It is 5.30 am, early December morning in the City of Joy and two separate alarms on two Apple phones with different tones go off together. The man of the house is quick to get up but falters to press the stop sign and the alarms keep buzzing aloud. The woman of the house shouts, “Are you trying to save electricity by not putting on the light? The whole city is illuminated round the clock in colours of blue and white and here you are saving a moment’s electricity!” The man is now fully woken up by this lady alarm more than the two Jobs’ ones and, finally, manages to  turn them off. Yeah, men sometimes need a good yelling to get the work done.

In no time the two are dressed in summer casuals, hastily stuffing some cash from the wallet into the pocket, before slipping into their footwear for the day, made famous by the First Lady of the State, who never tires of wearing the bathroom slippers, which we call Hawai chappals. The man takes out his mobile and calls for an Uber…mmm the car is ten minutes away so let me try again…now the waiting time goes up to 12 minutes….the lady tells him to wait for the cab patiently and not try again lest the waiting time goes beyond 15 minutes.

It is 6.00 am and the two are waiting for the cab to arrive. The temperature in Kolkata at that moment is not less than 18 degrees and the couple is highly amused to see the locals sitting around a bonfire with their arms outstretched to feel the heat. With jackets and pullovers on their bodies and the famous monkey caps to protect their so called precious heads, the bongs are ready to face the winter chill.

It is 6.18 am and the cab comes to a halt at a barricade ten metres away from a white and blue building named Kalighat Police Station. The two passengers are confused and the man takes courage to ask, Dada, Mondir ta kothai? (Where is the temple?). Just walk straight on this road and you will reach the temple in no time, said the man at the wheels, wondering perhaps where these people have come from. Ok…Paytm achhe…ok…

Phone koro, prompts the lady. The man diligently dials and as the person on the other side responds he gushes excitedly, Bablu da we have come. Ok, choley aashoon stall number 82 teh. The two meander through the host of pandas or the pujaris waiting to hijack you at the site and, finally, reach stall number 82 where Bablu, a good looking fellow in saffron half kurta and dhoti, welcomes them with a broad smile. The two have got some fruits but add some pedas and jobar mala (hibiscus garland) to their cane basket. Keep your slippers inside the shop and come with me, adds Bablu.

It is 6.30 am and Bablu takes them to the main Kali Temple but asks them to follow him as he takes the steps up while other pilgrims are coming down the same steps. The man wonders aloud if they are taking the wrong path. Bablu smiles and calmly responds, All roads lead to the same place and they continue climbing the steps. Inside the sanctum sanctorum it seems quite a maddening place with people falling over others, pushing and jostling their way through, just to get close to the goddess. There are a few other pandas like Bablu and then a toughie at the gate suddenly stops  the main set of devotees and asks us to walk in to the  inner most place. They can feel the wet  floor and the trampled flowers and other things with their bare feet but keep  their eyes glued to the canopy for a good darshan of Ma Kali. As they close their eyes to say a short prayer, the man hears someone talking in perfect English, I am the Head Priest of this temple. Hearing this, the man forgets his prayers and cranes his head to see the Pope himself. He sees a man in white dhoti, very impressive looking , talking to a VIP devotee. The head priest puts a shinning chaddar over the shoulders of the VIP and says something that he could not catch in the din. The VIP takes out a hundred rupee note and the head priest quickly takes off the chaddar and says, I will not accept anything less. By now our man has forgotten his prayers to the imposing deity with her huge gold tongue while the lady of the house in all devotion, oblivious of the happenings around, bends down to touch the feet of the goddess. As told by Bablu, they put two hundred rupees in the donation box, pay twenty bucks each to the toughie at the gate and another person managing the crowd near the steps. Bablu too is thanked and rewarded. Overwhelmed by such a close darshan of Ma, the two come out of the temple precincts with the flowers and prasad.

It is 6.46 am and the man asks the lady, Let us go to Victoria Memorial, it is very nice in the morning there. She nods and he tries to book an Uber but, as luck would have it, the money in the Paytm is short on balance and the credit card has been left in the wallet at home. The man changes the payment mode to cash and books another Uber. After having paid the driver in cash, the man is now left with one fifty rupee and two five hundred rupee notes. He tries his level best to get the change at the ticket window outside the entrance but fails and now only a tenner and two five hundreds remain in his pocket. The walk is very pleasant but surprisingly they do not find a single bong walking…only Marwari men who are busy doing their good deed of the day by throwing grains to the pigeons and their wives who are wobbling rather than walking.

It is 7.25 am and the two now complete their parikrama of this modern day temple built for the Queen who once ruled the waves, no less than a goddess, with her power stretching across continents. How do we go back home now? No Uber driver will give us change at this hour so we should try walking to Rabindra Sadan, take a metro which will be ten bucks for both of us, and then walk down home from Rabindra Sarobar. Just then they see the imposing St.Paul’s Cathedral which neither of them has ever seen from inside. As they walk in, they notice a board at the entrance which says the visitor timings are from 10 am onwards and it is only 7.30 am. The man takes courage and tells the wife not to even look at the sentry at the gate but confidently walk in with folded hands as if in prayer mode. Surprisingly, the guard at the gate does not say anything to them while he turns away three youngsters who want to go inside too. Our early bird couple smile at each other and walk into the cathedral where they see a priest. They wish him Good Morning Father and get a warm smile in response. The helper inside says, Quickly see the Church and come out from another gate. It was such a peaceful place and the only prayer they had learnt in school …Our father in heaven… is silently said and they walk out as if they have won a brilliant, unexpected victory in a battlefield.

It is 7.45 am and the two now feel emboldened to try some more adventure. Let us go to Sharma Tea Stall and taste their famous tea. It cannot be too far from here. Google map shows it is about 2.5 kms away and so the two begin their long walk again in their flip flops. As they pass the Academy of Fine Arts and Nandan, they are greeted with innumerable posters of Didi. There is a musical festival going on in the city and instead of any artiste being shown, the CM’s smiling face is there on every poster in pink. The lady quips, Forget the general people, does she herself not get tired of seeing herself everywhere? She has shown her skills in writing poetry and painting but about her musical talents the two have not much heard of. So much for megalomania!

It is pretty early in the day, as the two walk past  the Institute of Post Graduate Medical Education and Research, yet they see big quantities of rice being cooked for the patients and their relatives who have spent the night sleeping on the pavements or in nearby places and are now queuing up in front of the OPD gates. Next they cross Gokhale Memorial  School and College. Till today, neither the students studying in this institute nor the teachers teaching there will ever pronounce the name as Go-Kha-ley but prefer to call it as Go-khael.…Bongs will be Bongs, and they smile to themselves as they near their destination.

It is 8.05 am and the two are standing in front of a pretty small and worn out place but already a large number of people are standing and enjoying puri sabji and tea in tiny earthen pots or khuris . The man, always the greedy sort, instead of ordering a plate of small puris, places order for two jumbo sized onion kachoris and piping hot jalebis with garma-garam special chai. The boy, taking the order, asks if they wanted tea with saffron…Na na they say…enough saffronisation is already happening, let us leave the tea out of it. The food is so delicious but the lady stops the man from ordering any more. She reminds him, You are still on Norflox TZ.

It is 8.25 am and the two are now ready to book an Uber with the change available after having paid Sharma ji. Their eyes fall on a nice small Gurudwara right across the street and the two glance at each other. After thirty years of having lived together, they know immediately that for both the next temple hop is before their eyes. The Uber ride is cancelled and they cross the street, put the chunni and handkerchief over their heads, and enter the Gurudwara. Again, it is such a peaceful and clean place like the cathedral as compared to the Kali temple. Here prayers are offered once again…never possibly in their lives have they offered so many prayers in a single day. The visit ends with a handful of kada parshaad or garam halwa , cooked in loads of ghee, being given generously and they savouring every bit of this delicious prasaad.

It is 8.46 am and now they finally book an Uber to go home. As they near their home they ask the cab to stop at a point to see a small temple where Lord Shiva and Kali stood. This is Buro Shib Tola or Old Shiva’s Place. They have gone past this temple innumerable times but for the first time they notice the supreme deity wrapped up in a green shawl like an old man…Oh now they understand why he is called buro or old man who is finding it difficult to bear Kolkata’s winter even though his abode is at Kailasa, atop the frozen mountains!

It is almost 9.00 am when the two reach home while the other local bhadraloks reach the fish market for the fresh catch. Phew…God Puja, Goddess Puja, Raja Rani Puja, Pet Puja…all in a couple of hours…truly the best temple run anyone could have imagined. After a short rest the duo go out to buy sarees, a must in this city, and, as luck would have it, the first shop they enter, the man at the counter says, Boudi aap ke liye ek badhiya temple border dikhata hoon….Phir se temple...Nahiiiiin!

SS

Tuffy Tales- At the Park

Come Tia, let us go to the park to play.

No Tuffy, I don’t want to go anywhere. I am the happiest in the house.

No Tia, park is the place of happiness where you can run and chase, hide and jump…it is all fun there.

Tuffy, you know I don’t like and I don’t want to go out. So just leave me alone. You go if you wish to.

I am not going anywhere without Tia…whoof.. whoof…and that’s final.

Tia was sitting on the sofa, so I jumped and went close to her. She put her hand on my back, rubbed it gently…first up and then down and slowly repeated it. I loved it when she did this to me. I then put my head on her lap with my tongue hanging out, the saliva dripping on her nice flowery pink dress.

Tuffy please don’t blackmail me.

What’s blackmail? I have heard of mail, email and female but never blackmail!

Tuffy leave me alone. I am not going anywhere.

With sad eyes I looked at her and then jumped down. Darted straight out of the room and returned with the leash in my mouth. I walked to Tia and placed it on her lap and with my hairy head started gently banging my head on her knee.

Tuffy, you are a pain. Why are you so pushy and always want to have it your way?

Wham!!

Before I realized, she crashed the thick book in her hand on my head….it hurt pretty bad but I did not cry. I turned around and walked away to a corner in the room and sat down with my head over the front paws. I was not angry nor was I sad. I realized she just was in no mood today.

In some time, Tia came and sat down on the floor, caught my collar and dragged my face close to hers.

Hey Tuffy, chorry baba…I should not have hit you, my best friend.

And then she put the leash on my collar, stood up and said, Chal park chalein.

I quickly got up and stood on my back legs with my front legs on her chest, gave her a watery licky of love as my tail wagged wildly.

Our house was on the ground floor and the park was across a busy street. As Tia and I walked out, I made sure my body was always in touch with her right leg, never to miss the touch even for a moment. Tia’s father had taught me that I should cross the road from a place where there were white lines and a lamp post which had three colours. I waited for the light to move from red to amber and then to green…

Whoof..whoof…I asked Tia who understood my signal and started walking. We were still midway when I saw a person on a bike with one hand on the phone, the other on the handle. I knew this idiot would not bother to see and heed the street lights so I stopped, quickly moved from Tia’s right to her left side and started shouting at the top of my voice….whoof… whoof…while facing the fool on the bike. The idiot panicked and pressed the brake so hard that he skidded and fell….his bike stopped just a metre away from where we stood. I smiled and said, achcha hua as the fallen biker said,  paagal kutta!

Tia asked, Tuffy what happened?

Nothing darling, someone just fell down.

 And we crossed over to the other side, safe and sound. Felt like a hero.

We went inside the park and pulled Tia towards the bench under a huge tree. She sat down and removed my leash from the collar.

I loved coming to the park. I had many friends here. As I announced my entry with my trade mark bark, in no time Boy, Goru and Kalu came running to me.

Tia knew my friends well. They did not have collars but were always very friendly. They walked with me to Tia and announced their entry. Tia opened up her pouch and took out her packet of biscuits. No, she never offered my friends any ordinary biscuits. She always got for them Nice biscuits. My friends loved the coconut flavoured stuff with sprinkling of sugar coating. Tia would never throw the biscuits down. She held each piece in her hand as my friends went close to her, took the biscuit in their mouth and got a loving hug from Tia.

As Tia sat on the bench like a princess, the four of us would make a semi-circle around her. This was our regular routine and we knew what was coming after this.

Are you ready?

Whoof whoof…yes yes!!

Tia would bring out a ball from her pouch and throw it as hard as she could and then the fun began for us as we raced each other to fetch it.  Whoever got the ball back to Tia, got a prize…two cubes of chocolate.

Boy

Boy was really the strong one. He was much bigger than all of us. Goru was quite like me and Kalu was the weak looking one. But when it came to running, Kalu was the fastest. There was never a day when Kalu was not the first to fetch the ball to Tia when she threw it for the first time.

Tia was a bright girl. She realized, there has to be a rule or else the other gladiators would feel cheated and Kalu would become the chocolate king monopolizing the cubes every day multiple times. Tia devised a simple rule…whoever got the chocolate would get disqualified for the next chase. She made sure we all got our chocolates equally every day.

The park had a pathway and many people would walk there as we played. Tia’s bench was close to the pathway and most people would just see us, feel amused and walked away. Then there were a few who tried to get friendly and would get their biscuits and make some strange sound with their pouted mouth much…smuch..smuch. Some would call us, aaja Tommy aaja.

Must be mad, I thought. Who told them any of us was Tommy? Must all dogs be called by this strange name? Why did not any of them call us Amitabh Bachchan or Salmaan Khan…why Tommy? Strange breed are these humans. We never went to them, we never had their biscuits. We were happy with what Tia gave us and never asked for more. Only once did Kalu go close to one of them one day and ate the biscuit he gave. After a while Kalu felt sick and threw up…they would have given the poor fellow rotten stuff, things they would not eat themselves. After this, all my friends stayed away from the day walkers.

Two old ladies stood behind Tia and started talking.

Yeh laadki paagal hai kya? Kutton ke saath khel rahi hai…said one.

The other said, andhi hai bechari.

Hai…yeh toh bahut dukh ki baat hai.

Tia heard the conversation and went limp. She hung her head low and pulled out a piece of cloth that she rubbed against her eyes.

I knew it. My friends also knew it and we angrily went towards these women baring our teeth.

Bhaag…jaldi bhaag…pagal kuttey hain…kaat lengey….as they started running away. One of them almost fell off the pathway.

We returned to where Tia was sitting.

This is why I do not like coming out of the house Tuffy but you never listen.

She put my leash back as we stood up to walk out of the park. I turned around once and told my pals, …see ya tomorrow mates.

Whoof…Whoof...

The Eternal Search

I am so thankful to my readers for they not only send me messages of appreciation; some of them give me anecdotes and stories to work upon. One such story caught my attention as I waited for my new Hanuman business cards to get printed.

I always knew since childhood that Bajarangbali was a Bal Bhahmachari, someone who remained bachelor forever. I was therefore stumped when this myth was broken! I remembered the classic Hindi movie, Padosan, where the hero, Bholey, a committed brahmachari, falls head over heels in love with his saamne wali khidki mein padosan and ends up marrying the damsel. Was this the case with our original Superman Hanuman as well?

Hunamanji and Survachala at a temple in Khamam, Telengana

The story goes that Hanumanji considered Surya Dev or the Sun God as his Guru who alone is said to have command over nine sets of knowledge. Hanumanji wanted to master all nine of these. Sun God was able to impart five of the nine pearls of wisdom but for the remaining four, God himself was worried as these could only be given to disciples who were married. In order to solve the problem, Sun God asked Hanumanji to get married.

Initially, Hanumaji refused but later relented and so the Sun God gave his own daughter Survachala in marriage to Bajarangbali. Surya however told Hanumanji that despite his marriage to Survachala, he would always remain bal brahmachari as his wife would take to meditation and lead the life of an ascetic immediately after the wedding. By planning the marriage in this fashion, God ensured Hanuman got all the nine supreme vidyas but maintained his vows of celibacy.

 Dennis the Menace by Hank Ketcham

While not getting to the issue of “married but not married”, I wonder what could have been the four missing powerful wisdoms or knowledge that you acquire when you only get married and not otherwise. The dirty mind of mine could initially think of one such pearl of wisdom what Sage  Vatsyayana took such pains to describe and illustrate and became a legend forever. The unspeakable truth surely for me would rate for me the top ranked wisdom. This was easy but what could have been the other three that Lord Surya Dev would have imparted?

Patience must be the foremost wisdom any married man ought to have. It is universal from the comic strips of Hagar the Horrible to Leroy, the theme is quite constant and similar. Every man must have the patience to listen to all that is thrown at him, keep quiet and yet accept the fact the cause for all mistakes are his and his alone. He must also go down on his knees to promise, ”I shall not do it again!” yet end up repeating the same mistake and get reprimanded for doing, and at times for not doing, things which his wife had told him or he ought to have assumed she would have asked of him. So definitely patience must be his number two wisdom that must be a married man’s religion or dharma.

 The Lockhorns by Bunny Hoest

Earning money will also rank among the four missing values in bachelors. A married man must earn more money than his married wife can possibly spend. He definitely has to ensure the credit card is power packed and can buy Her Majesty anything from a designer lehnga to a solitaire. And so the married man must learn how to slog, beg and borrow but must surely ensure the bank balance is good and adequate to satiate his wife’s unending demands. Arthashastra may have been written in the 3^rd century BC as a science on politics meant for the king but for the married man artha – shastra is the art of homely politics of survival and success and must surely be one of the missing wisdoms.

 The Lockhorns by Bunny Hoest

Finally, what could be the fourth and the last missing wisdom? To me it ought to be how to achieve happiness. Does this sound all mixed up after all I said in the previous paragraphs? I can say with much conviction, you can achieve much joy in this relationship. Believe me, I have seen and heard many a bal brahamachari go loony and act funny later on in life. Their strange behavior may possibly be attributable to them leading a lonely life, with no one to temper them and with little responsibility towards the family. Your wife and children are the cause of much happiness and solace in life that the other carefree tribe cannot experience. So for me, the bonds that hold me together as part of a family to care for and to be cared for must rank as the supreme gift of being a married man.

 Hagar the Horrible by Chris Browne

And as luck would have it, I walked into a Tanishq showroom where my Survachala went scouting for the brighter stuff in the showcases, I opened up a colourful book on Indian marriages and look what I find on one of the pages that did not entice me to spend a fortune…

I just hit the Bull’s eye or Saand ki Aankh for some….Kama, Dharma, Artha and Moksha…the order may differ but they were all there. Wonder how I discovered the eternal truths... thirty years of married life, I presume. Life has been my greatest teacher and surely it must be for you too. Dig deep inside and answers will flow out. You do not need to follow anyone in saffron with a beard. Seek within and thou shalt find.

Happy Diwali

SS

Monday, Ten minutes to Nine

"Road number 3, Banjara Hills pe, TV9 aur Chutney's ke beech mein?"

Auto-wale bhaiyya- "80?"

"Chalo" Let’s be honest, it’s not that I cannot haggle, I am just lazy.

"Aap Bangal se hain?"

"Haan, aapko kaise pata?"

"Main dekhkar hi samajh gaya, aur phir aapke bolne ke dhang se,"

Hmm, strange…

“Main Bihar se hun”

“Accha”

"Aap doctor ho?"

Ok, has he been stalking me?

"Uh…haan"

"Kis cheez ke?"

"Aankhon ke"

"Oh, accha. Doctor banne ke liye bahut padhna padta hai na?"

"Doctor banne ke baad bhi bahut padhna padta hai!"

“Kitne saal ho gaye doctor bane?”

“Dus saal pehle medical college join kiya tha?”

“Dus saal? Aapki umar kya hai?”

“28”

“Oh”

"Meri ek beti hai, main usko doctor banana chahta hoon,"

"Mat banana, kuch aur banne dena...koi anjan admi maarke chala jayega. Aaj kal yehi ho raha hai, aapne padha hoga paper mein"

"Chhee chhee…Yeh sab kya karte hain.Aap log toh bhagwan hain."

"Humein bhagwan ka darja nahi chahiye, hum toh bas apna kaam bina kisi dar ke karna chahte hain"

“Yeh baat sunkar bada accha laga. Bhagwan ke baad toh aap hi aatey hain.”

“Yeh sab mat kahiye, aisa kuch bhi nahi hai.”

"Meri maa bimar thi, doctor usey nahi bacha sakey, par maine dekha tha ki us doctor ne kitni koshish ki thi"

"Humse jo best ho sakta hai, hum karne ki koshish karte hain. Bas bhaiyya, side mein rok dijiye"

"Aapko yahan utarna hai?"

"Mujhe toh actually yahan se road cross karna hai"

"Yahan se dhyaan se cross kijiye, galat jagah hai, gadi bahut tezz aati hai. Aapko road ke uss side jaana hai?"

"Ji, aap chaloge kya? Par aapko U-turn lena padega circle se"

"Haan toh hum le lenge.”

"Kitna loge?"

"Aap jo denge. Yahan se cross mat karna, extra dekar auto ko bolna turn le le"

"Actually doosre auto-wale mana kar dete hai"

"Sab ek jaise nahi hote hain, sab ek jaise hote toh Bharat, America ban jaata. Aap jaise log jab tak hain, desh ka accha hoga"

"Hum koshish karte hain Sir"

"Kabhi kabhi doctor laparwahi bhi karte hain, gusse se baat karte hain, aapki tarah acche se nahi"

"Sir, situation alag hoti hai, government hospital mein doctors 100-200 patients dekhte hain, tension mein hote hain, unke upar stress rehta hai."

And the auto took the U-turn.

“Aapki salary kitni hai?”

“**”

“Bas! Mujhe laga aapka 1-1.5L hoga”

“Haha…nahi nahi, itni kahan. Bas bhaiyya, rok dijiye.”

I paid him, got off and walked two steps.

Then I took a U-turn

"Accha bhaiyya, agar aapki beti doctor banna chahti hai, toh banne dena. Jitna satisfaction patients ko thik karke milta hai, woh aur kisi kaam mein nahi milega. Aur aapne hi toh kaha, sab log ek jaise nahi hote."

MS

Nanouk’s Travel

Dad, I want to stay here. I don’t want to live in the city. I want to come back home.

No son, I want you to have a good life. Our world is too tough to live and survive. I want you to do well in life with some modern amenities and comforts. You and your children will have a life that you cannot even dream of in these harsh conditions where the snow never melts, the sun ever rises and you have to fight for survival every single day.

Dad, please listen to me. Our life in the open and with freedom is much better than what I saw in my visit to the big city in Toronto. I am all confused and at times amused after meeting the famous people over there. With all the toughness of life and fight for survival, I will still be happier there at home.

Tell me son about your days there.

So Dad, I landed in a park near the Lake Ontario and I was looking for some direction but the sign there got me all mixed up and lost- North Pole, Niagara Falls, Vancouver and Halifax and all I could see was the blue waters on three sides and a garden of green on another and so I headed there.

At the garden at night, I saw a man riding a beautiful horse. But it seemed strange that they were both standing still and so I walked towards the man astride in regal attire and called out, “Hello! I am Nanouk. I am new here and wanted to know if you could help me around.”

What help can I possibly give? I am King George V of England whose empire spread from one end of the globe to another and they said that the Sun never sets on the British Empire. My Jewel in the Crown was India where I visited in 1911 when the capital was shifted from Calcutta to Delhi.  A grand durbar was held in Delhi to mark the occasion. And you know the best part about the Indian travel then was game hunting when I shot 21 tigers, 8 rhinoceros and a bear in just ten days.

You do hunting for fun but we Inuits in the northern snowy part of Canada do it for survival. We have to hunt polar bears, walrus and fish with our spears, bows and arrows. We store the frozen meat for winter months which lasts over ten months when moving out of our igloos is near impossible.

Since you as the King of the British Empire and the Emperor of India are not from this land, you stand frozen as a King in Queen’s Park while I look for someone famous from the land of the maple leaf. Your garden is green and beautiful but my ice world of white is so much better.

I was told by this King of a beautiful land just off Toronto, where water fell from great heights, that there lived a man who the locals say was the greatest inventor of the twentieth century. I took a Grey-line bus and reached Niagara where after seeing the beautiful waterfalls, I walked into an overlooking garden where the famous man stood. As I went close I saw a written in bold…Nikolai Tesla.

Hello Nikolai, how do you do Sir? I am Nanouk from another world much further north. My father wants me to come down here and study science and its benefits. Will you be my guide?

Dear Nanouk, I too came from Croatia and after studying in Germany, Hungary and Austria came to US in 1884. Here I worked with a great man called Thomas Edison whose DC based electrical works were the standard of the country. Soon I left Edison for we were completely different personalities. Whereas Edison was more focused towards marketing and financial matters I was more academically inclined.

I designed the alternating current (AC) electrical system which soon became the pre-eminent power system of the twentieth century and has remained so worldwide since then. If you take a walk down from here, you will find the remains of a hydro-electric power plant. I patented the Tesla coil which laid the foundation of wireless technologies.

It is good that you want to study science but in this land you also need to have a high level of business acumen or else you will soon get frustrated. I too had become eccentric and in the later part of my life I devoted much of my time to the care of wild pigeons in parks.

Thanks Nikolai. You’ve been very helpful. Science is good but becoming looney is not. I would rather stay sane than go insane. You stay here enjoying the greatest of all the waterfalls. I salute you for all the inventions and patents but the world of my dreams is not this. If I could make the life of my fellow Inuits better with health care and basic amenities that could make their difficult life a little easier, that’s where my science should take me. Money is important but I am quite like you…

Dad, I returned to the city once more and landed myself in a museum where I found among other things shoes worn by us. I was taken around by a man called Thomas Bata. He showed me the golden shoes of kings, sparkling ones of rock stars and simple ones for kids. We then sat down for a glass of beer when I asked him about himself.

My family were cobblers in the present day Czech Republic. In 1895 we created a shoe out of canvas instead of leather and became very popular. After World War 1, came the economic slump. Our factory in Ziln was called Bataville and our workers began to be called Batamen. Business grew rapidly and we expanded into many new countries including India. We also started Bata Price where the shoe cost ended with a nine after a decimal rather than a whole number, a tradition we have maintained till date. I died in a plane crash in 1932. In 1964 we moved our corporate headquarters to Toronto, Canada. Presently it is my daughter who is taking care of my business which is going through difficult times.

Ok Mr. Bata so you too are not from Canada. Then who is?

Thomas laughed aloud and asked me to follow a road that would take me to another Hall where he told me to finally meet a pure bred Canadian. I thanked him for a pair of shoes, which he said was his company’s bestseller, called Hush Puppies and moved on.

I landed at the Hockey Hall of Fame and at the gate was greeted by a smiling gentleman who introduced himself as Wayne Gretzky.

Hello Wayne, I am Nanouk from Nanungat up north in the countryside. Mr. Bata said you are ‘The Great One’ so I bow to thee.

Wayne smiled and asked me to follow him as he took me around the Hockey Hall of Fame. He showed me the pictures of hockey greats, the clothes worn by champions and even showed me how to play. It is pretty easy Dad. You have a long staff curved at the end and you have to strike the small round thing called puck into the net.  He showed me some movie clips where the players do not take it easy and end up fighting each other. He then took me to a room where the famous trophies are kept and told me about the Stanley Cup which is awarded to the National Hockey League Champions. He even took a picture of me standing with the cup. It felt so good Dad.

Wayne presented me with a shirt with 99 printed on the back. I read at the museum that Gretzky is regarded as the ‘greatest hockey player ever’ and was the leading scorer and provided the maximum assists than any player in the history of NHL. Gretzky was honoured by the Canadian government with many awards and the shirt number 99 was retired for NHL as a mark of respect for the great player. Now Wayne lives away from Toronto where he has a vineyard. He even let me taste sweet ice-wine. Ice-wine is made from grapes that are plucked at night in cold winters as that is the time when the fruit is the sweetest.

Finally, I found a real Canadian and I liked the sport he played. This is good life Dad but for this all you need is some good ice and we have plentiful of it back home. For that I need not spend the rest of my life here. So as sun sets on the beautiful Lake Ontario, I am flying back Dad and will stay with you, my friends…be myself and be with nature.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is a rapture on the lonely shore,

There is a society, where none intrudes,

By the deep sea, and music in its roar;

I love not man the less, but Nature more.

Lord Byron

SS

Dog's Life

It had been quite a while since I read a comic book, therefore, could not resist asking a colleague for Amar Chitra Katha’s triple volume of Mahabharata. Around the same time on a visit to an insurance broker’s office, found an almirah full of books, and as luck would have it, picked up Devdutt Pattanaik’s Jaya, which is the original name of the epic Mahabharata.  While people keep the Ramayana at home and is read by family members together, it is said that it is inauspicious to keep the Mahabharata at home as its presence leads to disputes in the family. And here we were with not one but two copies of the same dreaded book at the same time- the comic version was meant for me and the book version was for D. Maybe after thirty years of marriage, we’ve overcome many a Mahabharata of our own.

So then, both of us started reading the wonderful saga together, sitting on two different sides of the bed. After the initial enthusiasm, I could not go beyond the first volume of the comic book. The text in it seemed quite childish, even though the stories were being narrated in a simple manner. It somehow was not being able to hold my attention for long and I had to make an extra put-on effort to read it, just to show my wife that my decision to read the comic version was better than hers! It often happens that what seemed wonderful in childhood does not appear so great when revisiting later in life. It is better to leave those happy memories in our hearts and no attempt should be made to relive those moments again. D, on the other hand, took a huge liking to the longer version and was all praises for it. The author had done a good job of not only keeping it brief but tried maintaining honesty to the original version and added small, interesting anecdotes and folk tales sourced from various texts and different parts of the country to make it interesting. She even started drawing up in a diary, the family trees of various kings, hermits and gods to understand how each of the families were linked and how destinies of all were to again meet in the battlefield of Kurukshetra. Everyday, when I returned from work, I would be treated to some new character or story from the mythology that she had read that day. She kept on pestering me to start reading Jaya. And then finally I decided to accept her advice and started reading the book and soon got hooked to it.

You must be wondering why I have chosen the strange heading for the blog. Am I leading you to Dogs of War situation and trying to retell the stories of valour and betrayal, sacrifice and greed, vice and integrity of those who came face to face in the greatest war ever fought? No, that day is not today. Today I am sharing with you two stories from Mahabharata where dogs played an important role.

The first one appears at the end of the epic and is one which is known to most but is still worth a revisit.

After establishing a strong kingdom post the Kurukshetra with Parikshit on the throne, the Pandavas felt it was time to leave behind the royal life and they walked together towards the snow clad virtuous peak of Mandara which touched Swarga or heaven. Even Draupadi followed the five brothers as they planned to enter the realm of Gods. As they walked the treacherous path, Draupadi fell off the mountain first and then in some time it was Sahadev and then Nakula. The remaining three brothers walked ahead without looking back. Then it was the turn of Arjuna and Bhima to fall down and then it was just Yudhishtira who walked ahead alone. It seemed, all except Yudhishtira, had flaws that prevented them from reaching the Gates of Heaven.

“Come inside”, said the Devas as they welcomed the lone Pandava to the Garden of Amravati, “But keep the dog out”, they added. “Which dog?” asked a surprised Yudhishtira as he turned around to find a dog wagging his tail standing behind, whom he identified as having seen in the city of Hastinapur. The dog had survived the cold and had followed Yudhishtira all the way to the peak. The dog looked at Yudhishtira and licked his hands in adoration. While the devas contended that the dogs are inauspicious  and dirty and cannot be admitted into heaven, Yudhishtira argued in vain that the dog should be allowed entry for it had earned the right after having undertaken the journey and survived.

Matters came to head when Yudhishtira said, ”Either I come in along with the dog or I do not come in Heaven.” “You refuse paradise for the sake of a dog!” exclaimed the Devas. They then smiled and said, we are pleased at your integrity and the dog following you is none other than Dharma or the God of Righteous Conduct.” Yudhishtira was then welcomed with great fanfare into the Gates of Heaven.

I personally have serious doubts about the right of Yudhishtira to enter heaven for it was almost his single folly in that dice game with Shakuni which culminated in the bloody war and his deceiving Dronacharya about the death of Ashwathama. The epic throws up a new facet about this entry into Heaven of which I was not aware of till I had read the book this time. When Yudhishtira entered Heaven, he found all the Kauravas there but none of his brothers. He asked angrily, “How did these warmongers reach Amravati?” To which the Devas replied that all of the Kauravas were killed in battle in the holy land of Kurukshetra and thus had purified themselves to enter the Gates of Heaven.

One of the morals of the story is that you should not treat dogs badly, who knows they may be the Devas following you and testing you hard sometimes with a rabid bite as well. Secondly you will be often surprised at the heavenly justice and find strange people in heaven when you go there…possibly they too would have died in battlefield…Heil Hitler!

The second story is based on a folk tale from Punjab and is completely a new twist to a thing we have all seen in life, but gives you a plausible explanation to the ‘act’.

Draupadi was known as Panchali or the wife of five men.  So, mythology says, the characters then planned it out to manage such a situation where five men had one woman to themselves. Kunti, the mother of the Pandavas had declared that each of the five brothers would be with Draupadi for one year at a time. There was another rule that no brother could enter the bed chamber of Draupadi when she was there with the brother whose turn it was at that moment. Things were going on fine and to ensure that no one even by mistake breached this rule of not entering the bed chamber, it was decided that the footwear of the man who was with Draupadi would be kept outside the room, signaling to the other four brothers that they shouldn’t enter the chamber at that moment.

It so happened that one day Draupadi was with Yudhishtira whose footwear was kept outside the chamber. A stray dog entered the palace and took away the footwear. Arjuna came looking for his bow and not finding a footwear outside, he assumed Draupadi was alone, he entered the room. Seeing him, Draupadi was embarrassed and cursed the dog that since his actions caused her intimate moments to be known to another, all dogs in future would copulate in public in full view of all, stripped of all shame.

Please do not ask me how authentic this folk tale is, just read it, shut it and forget it…surely you will not forget this easily, will you? After all men will be men! Do not ask me for the moral of this immoral story. The only thing that comes to mind is Amar Chitra Katha is Sanskari and children should be encouraged to read it and no more lest they be polluted with such F-tales… Folk tales.

SS