Twist in the Tale

In my last visit to Chennai, a good friend of mine who picked up interesting curios came home. He presented to us one clay item where a crow is sitting atop a pitcher. He smilingly said, “Everyone knows the Aesop’s fable associated with this curio. Why don’t you give the story a new twist and share it with children?” Now that was like an interesting mental and creative challenge which I, initially, rejected but then started penning lines. Sharing with you, the children, this tale. Apologies to those who may not like the corrupted version of the original fable and also to those who are at unease with the script in Hindi. You may treat this a mash-up of Aesop’s fable in English with Panchatantra in Hindi.

कौआ और  पंचू

पंचू बोला कौआ काका

काहे करे तू कायें कायें

काका बोला बिन पानी के

जान मेरी है जाये- जाये

मेरे बगीचे में एक घड़ा है रखा

पानी उसमे है पड़ा वहां

पानी उसमे है बहुत ही थोड़ा

चोंच मेरी ना पहुंचे जहाँ

चल काका तेरी मदद करूँ मैं

पर बदले में एक वादा कर

चाहे मुझसे तू कुछ भी मांग ले

बस मेरे सूखे गले में नीर दे भर

मैं तुझे दूँ ढेर से पत्थर

डाल पानी में एक एक कर

वाह रे पंचू इससे तो पानी ऊपर आ गया

क्या बुद्धि आयी तेरे इस छोटे से सर

अब पी लो पानी भर के

और वादा मेरा तू दे कर पूरा

पानी पी के कौआ बोला

मांग ले कुछ भी पंचू छोरा

तुम कल सुबह होते उड़ जाओगे

कल से तुम सुबह ना गाना गाओगे

नींद से ना मुझे उठाओगे

तेरी कायें कायें से परेशान हैं सब

सुबह की कायें कायें ना होगी जब

शांति होगी मेरे घर जब

खुश रहेंगे मम्मी पापा भाई बहन सब

मान गये हम तुमको पंचू भाई

जान बची तो लाखों पाए

चलता हूँ मैं बाई- बाई

फिर मिलूंगा जब कोई आपदा आये

मुश्किल कभी भी आन पड़े

पंचू को जो याद करे

सब परेशानी कर सके वो दूर

पंचू का तंत्र है जग में मशहूर

A crow trying to stay alive among the ruins of Mahabalipuram

SS 

A Conversation With The Rocks

Shore Temple

I know you have been fascinated by me since your schooldays. How does it feel to be seeing me today?

 

How did you know this fact? Yes, from my school days I have been looking at pictures of you in my textbook on Cultural History of India and have been wanting to see you ever since. I do not think school children read about you these days. The subject of History has acquired a new meaning. The textbooks are no longer the same as what we had studied and whatever we had learnt has become irrelevant. Do you know something, in our Board exams we had been asked to identify the picture of one of your rock-cut temples and I still feel happy that I could do it confidently. You have always fascinated me for your uniqueness- a group of temples carved into a rock (the bas reliefs and the cave temples), carved out of a huge rock (the rathas) and carved from a cut block of rock (the shore temples) on the shores of a mighty ocean. I am so glad that I am able to tick off one more item on my bucket list after almost 45 years. As you can see I am on the threshold completing six decades on this earth.

 

You know how old I am? More than 1500 years old. All my temples were built in the 7th and 8th century CE in this very important sea port town of Mahabalipuram under two very important rulers of the Pallava dynasty- Narasimhavarman I and Rajasimhavarman. The Pallavas, as you all know, ruled in the southern part of India between 3rd – 9th century CE. In those days this town, where I stand, was a very important trading centre as ships laden with riches from the west and the south-east Asian countries would anchor here. I have been mentioned by navigators, explorers in their writings as early as the 1st century CE. The Greek-Egyptian astronomer, mathematician and geographer Ptolemy, the Chinese traveller Hieun Tsang and even the explorer Marco Polo have referred to this town by different names like Malange, the land of the Seven Pagodas, in their writings. Thirumangai Alvar, the famous Vaishnavite saint, mentions it as Kadalmallai and gives a graphic description of how ships laden with rich goods and elephants anchored at this port. Roman and Chinese coins and pottery have also been unearthed here. The name Mamallapuram or Mahabalipuram, as this town is presently called, has its origin in the word mamallan (meaning wrestler), the name given to the Pallava king Narasimhavarman I, who was well -known for his physical prowess and is regarded as the founder of the city. However, some are of the opinion that the name originates in the legend of King Bali or Mahabali in the Vishnu Puranas.

 

Tomorrow morning, I plan to get up early and take a tour of all your temples.

Sunrise at Mahabalipuram

Yes, I think you should begin with my Shore Temple. I look best at sunrise. This is the Coromandel Coast.

 

Yes, while driving down the East Coast Road from Chennai we could catch glimpses of the shoreline along the Bay of Bengal.

 

A set of seven Hindu temples, called by mariners and explorers as the Seven Pagodas, had been built around the 8th C on the shores of this mighty ocean but unfortunately only one of them can now be seen. All the others have gone under the sea. All my other temples had been washed away in a great tsunami that struck this part of the world in the 13thC. 

 

My temples, dedicated to Lord Shiva, Lord Vishnu and Goddess Parvati, were once the places of worship for the mighty Pallava Kings. Kings and queens prayed at my altars, walked on my steps, washed in my water tanks but today I am under the protection of the Archaeological Survey of India. I have been declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site. No worship or rituals can be performed here as I am a protected monument. But when you visit me at sunrise you will still get a glimpse of my former glory. There are two shrines dedicated to Shiva and one to Vishnu. You will not be able to see much of the Vishnu temple as it is under renovation. Behind the remnant of a Shivalinga is the sculptured panel of Somaskanda (Shiva, Uma and infant Skanda or Karthik). Outside the main shrine there is a small deity of the goddess Parvati seated on the right hind leg of the lion, her vaahan. Inside the chest of the lion is a small square niche wherein is sculpted the image of the Mahishashuramardini. Layers of sand had to be removed, patiently and cautiously, before many of my structures were unearthed by the archaeologists and excavators. The entire structure of the Shore Temple stands on a naturally occurring granite boulder but the mighty waves are forever pounding at my steps. The structural or free-standing temple has the typical Dravidian architecture with pyramidal shikhara and kalasha with intricate carvings belonging to the later Rajasimhavarman era. The beautiful garden, well-kept lawns that you see all around me are also maintained by the ASI. Tourists from every corner of the world come to see the exquisite carvings and intricate craftsmanship of sculptors long dead and gone. I still stand on the shores of this exquisite land, a testament to the skills of those great men who had carved me out from huge blocks of granites.

Mahinshashurmardini inside the lion's chest

You are truly magnificent. What fascinates me is the fact that the kings and the artisans are all gone and here you still stand beside the ocean withstanding the wind and water, storms and tsunamis, all the vagaries of man and nature. Unbeaten you stand, telling me the tales of gods and men.

 

If you walk a kilometre and a half away from the Shore temple you will come to a huge rock edifice. That is another part of me. Though, all along this stretch, men have come up with roads, shops, houses, other temples, Mahabalipuram is, presently, a small, quiet town and not a bustling trading port that it once was under the Pallava rulers. Today, I am the main attraction in this town. On your left hand side, stretching from the lighthouse right up to the Trimurti temple, I am one huge rock edifice on whose walls men have engraved tales and scenes from the Mahabharata, the Puranas , other Hindu scriptures and mythology. I am almost a kilometer in length and all along me you will find mandapas or cave temples, bas reliefs with intricate carvings and free standing structural temples. I am like one long open air museum of rock carvings. If you climb the steps of the Iswara Temple or go up the lighthouse you can see the entire town.

Krishna holding Mount Govardhana 

 

This is so fascinating. I just saw the Pancha Panadava Mandapa, a cave like structure dedicated to the five Pandavas. Though the structure appears to be intact with pillars and porch and carvings, the individual caves were never completed. The Krishna Mandapa is very intricately carved inside. On one section we can see Krishna holding up Mount Govardhana with one palm and in another section we see Balaram with the villagers. As Krishna holds up the mountain to protect the village from the deluge caused by the wrath of Indra, the villagers are seen going about their chores, like milking cows and carrying fodder, with no fear or worries. One relief shows the four lions, each sculpted in different styles, showing the influence of the Roman, Egyptian and Chinese art on our craftsmanship. Most probably, the structural mandapas or pillared porches were added later in the 16th C though the original carvings belong to the 7th -8th C.  Next to Krishna Mandapa is the bas relief with scenes from the epic Mahabharata engraved on it. This is the famous sculptured rock face called Arjuna’s Penance, where the Pandava prince is seen praying to Shiva for the weapon pasupatha. A sage is seen meditating on one leg. This sculptured relief on the rock is also called the Descent of Ganges, as in one scene we see how the king- turned -sage Bhagiratha, through his penance, is successful in bringing the heavenly river Ganges to the earth while Shiva with the trident and Brahma can be seen on either side. On the face of this huge boulder, dividing the rock face into two parts is a fissure or cleft marking the point where the river descends. The Nagas and Nagins can be seen rising upwards with their hands folded in worship. The entire panoramic view of life in the forest has been engraved with trees, animals, ascetics and disciples going about their daily acts. The baby elephant playing under the belly of the adult elephant is so natural.

Arjuna's Penance

Descent of Ganges

Further down, we see two other mandapas or rock-cut caves. One, called the Varaha Mandapa, is dedicated to Lord Vishnu, who in the avatar of Varaha or the boar lifts Bhudevi or Earth Goddess from the ocean bed and kills the demon Hiranyaksha, who had dragged earth to the bottom of the ocean. There is a panel on the left showing Gajalaksmi seated on a lotus being bathed by elephants.  Another panel shows Vishnu in the Vaman avatar who wins back for Lord Indra the three worlds-earth, heaven and the netherworld- from the demon king Bali in three strides. It is regarded as the most complete of all the rock-cut caves. The other is the monolithic temple, also dedicated to Shiva as the trident and kalasha would symbolize, but the garbagriha has a Ganesha image and hence the name Ganesha Ratha. As we make our way to the lighthouse we see the Mahishamardhini Mandapa where we find two beautiful sculptures on the rock walls-one of mahishashuramardhini, where the goddess is killing the demon or asura. It seems as if that final moment of the battle has been captured where the goddess is seen triumphing over the demon. A host of ganas and yoginis are also visible. That moment, with all the expressions of victory and loss in the looks of the goddess, the lion and the demon, is frozen forever. The central sanctum houses the Somaskanda (Shiva, Parvati and baby Karthikeya). On the wall opposite is the second sculptured relief of Sheshashayi Vishnu, Vishnu on a serpent-couch in yoga-nidra posture. Though this is stylistically dated to the mid-7th C, I found this to be the most perfect and intricate of all the cave temples. Close to the lighthouse on a hillock stands the Iswara or Olakkannesvara (Shiva) temple or the old lighthouse. It is stylistically assigned to the last years of the Pallava King Rajasimhavarman, early 8th C. Climbing up the steps was indeed worth it because of the gorgeous 360-degree view of the town and at some distance you can even spot the Kalpakkam Nuclear Plant.

Varaha rescuing Bhudevi

Mahishashuramardini

Did you see the star attraction for the tourists- Krishna’s Butterball?

Krishna's Butterball

 

Oh yes, a wonder of wonders! How does that huge piece of granite boulder remain there? I mean, how does it not roll off a forty-five degree incline?  Only you can explain it since the archaeologists and scientists are still searching for the right answer.

 

The Trimurti Temple

 Oh, is that so? The Trimurti temple with the three shrines dedicated to Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva and the Bhima’s Kitchen hidden between two huge boulders will bring your tour of the rock cut cave temples to an end. If you walk for another two and a half kilometres, you will come to the last of my group of temples. A conglomerate of five temples called the Pancha Rathas or Five Chariots, each dedicated to a Pandava prince.

Pancha Rathas

 

To be honest with you, I am simply mesmerized by what I see when I reach the Pancha Rathas. By then the sun is shining brightly and your rock temples in their golden hues seem to blend with golden sand on which they stand. Time freezes in this beautiful blending of the rock with the sand. Each of the five temples has a unique architectural style but all have been built from a single outcropping of rock and hence the name monolithic temple. Each stands separately but together they form a cohesive whole- a procession of five chariots. Four of the rathas are named after a Pandava prince each (Nakul and Sahadev having been assigned one ratha jointly) and one is attributed to Draupadi. Though this is the nomenclature given by ASI, the local guide has a different narrative. Each of the five temples is dedicated to a different Hindu God. The first and the smallest is the Draupadi Ratha which has in its sanctum sanctorum an image of Durga and her vaahan, the lion, stands guard right in front of the doorway facing the people as they enter. The two female dwarpalas are exquisitely carved on either side of the entrance adorned with the makara arch. Each ratha has a distinct architecture. This one is shaped like a small hut with thatched roof and its style reminds me of the char-chala terracotta temples you find in Bengal. 

Draupadi Ratha

Arjuna Ratha

Next to it is Arjuna’s Ratha, with the two-tiered vimana (tower), and this temple is dedicated to Lord Shiva. Siva’s vaahan, Nandi the bull, can be seen just behind the temple on the right hand corner. In style it is similar to the old wooden South Indian temples.

Bhima Ratha

 

The third temple built in the centre is the largest, with a roof shaped like the hood of a country wagon, standing next to the Shiva temple and is dedicated to Lord Vishnu. An unfinished head and torso of a reclining Vishnu in anantashayana can be seen inside. It somewhat resembles the Buddhist Chaitya pillars with a circumambulatory passage all around. This Ratha is named after the Pandava prince, Bhima.

Yuddhisthir Ratha

At the extreme end is Dharamaraja Yuddhisthir’s Ratha and this temple has a three- tiered vimana with an octagonal shikhara. Each corner has two niches with sculptures of Hari-Hara(Shiva-Vishnu), Ardhanareeshwar (Shiv-Parvati), Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva in his various forms, showing the complete amalgamation of Shaivism, Vaishnavism and Shaktism. The uppermost layer has carvings of Shiva, Chandra and Surya. There is also a panel on the upper part carrying the image of Somaskanda. In the north-eastern corner of this ratha is a panel bearing the statue of the patron King Narasimhavarman I.

 

In front of the Shiva temple, built in the Buddhist style of architecture, is the temple of Indra and guarding it is his vaahan, the mythical elephant, Airawat. While all the other four temples are aligned in one line facing west, this stands separately with its entrance facing south. While the other four have rectangular or square floor plans, this one has an apsidal shape with a barrel roof. This temple has been labelled as the Nakul-Sahadeva Ratha. 

Nakul-Sahadev Ratha

You mesmerize me! Five free-standing monolithic temples, dedicated to the five main Hindu Gods with three of their vaahanas guarding from three different directions, built in mixed architectural styles- Dravidian, Buddhist, Roman- from one gigantic rock to create one brilliant integrated whole. It is believed that these temples were never consecrated as places of worship since the stupi or crown (the roof finial) which is placed on the top has been found at the ground level. In all probability these temples were never completed.

 

So are you glad that your childhood dream of seeing me has come true?

 

You may be structures carved and sculpted into rocks but you stand for the omnipotent, the omniscient and the omnipresent. You carry with you the past, the present and the future. You represent the Power of the Divine.

 

You stand for the Power of Man. Only man in his greatest creative form could have carved into rocks such masterpieces and left them for generations to come.

 

You stand for the Power of Time. Time that defies the combined forces of man and nature. You stand there for centuries, as grandeurs in rocks, defying the ravages of battles, storms and tsunamis.

 

I can only bow down my head in reverence to you. 

DS 

Temple Rush: Chennai

Welcome to Chennai… it's hot…it's humid…it's boring! That is the common refrain spoken by all living above the Vindhyas whenever anyone talks about the city. In my two visits to Chennai recently, I found that it’s clean, very clean; it does have a hot and humid climate but tell me of another city in India which does not have the same weather except, of course, those in the foothills of the Himalayas in the north and the hill stations; also it is as interesting as any other metropolis and, mind it, I have seen and lived in all the major ones for decades, be it Delhi, Kolkata or Mumbai. There is so much to see and explore that by the time you have done a round of interesting places, you realise how little you have actually seen of this historical and cultural epicentre. Here’s a quick glimpse of the temple rush we experienced.

San Thome Church, that was declared a National Shrine in 2004 in Mylapore, was our first stop. This Church is dedicated to Saint Thomas who was one of the twelve apostles of Jesus Christ and is said to have come to India to preach the Gospel and was buried here in AD 72. Travel diaries of Venetian traveller, Marco Polo, speak about the tomb. In 1521, the Portuguese sent missionaries in search of the tomb of Thomas the Apostle and found it to be in a neglected state. They built a shrine over the tomb which was visited by Francis Xavier in 1545. The church was made into a cathedral in 1606 by Pope Paul V. in 1896, the church was rebuilt in Gothic style. Pope Pius II elevated the church to the rank of minor basilica in 1956 and Pope John Paul II visited the place in 1986.

The church, painted in white, is one of the biggest you would see in the land. The inside has a simple and serene look with the Lord Jesus on the cross wearing a magnificent crown like a king. There is a gold-plated statue of Mother Mary on the left side of the altar and is referred to as Our Lady of Mylapore or locally as Mylai Matha. Behind the church is a nice museum on the life of St. Thomas and beneath it is the path that takes you right under the altar of the church wherein lies the tomb of the apostle. There are only two other basilicas that have been built over the tomb of an apostle. One of them is St. Peter's Basilica in Rome and the other being the Church of St. James the Great in Santiago de Compostela, Spain.

Our next temple hop was again in Mylapore, the Kapaleeshwar Temple, dedicated to Lord Shiva, said to have been built originally around seventh century AD. The word Kapaleeshwar is a combination of two words, Kapalam which means head and Eshwar which means god. Kapaleeshwar also means the King of Ascetics who stands with a bowl of a skull (kapala) in his hands and starts the re-creation of the universe out of his grace. According to the Puranas, during the meeting of deities atop Mount Kailash, Lord Brahma failed to show due respect to Shiva. Shiva plucked off one of the five heads (kapal) of Brahma who came down to the site of Mylapore and installed a lingam to please the angered lord. According to a regional legend, Shiva’s consort Parvati had turned into a peahen due to a curse. She had prayed to the Siva lingam with her beak before being transformed back into goddess Karpagambal. We were not able to see the peahen statue or the celestial tree, said to be in he temple premises, which grants everything asked for.

At the entrance of the Kapaleeshwar Temple, built in Dravidian style, is a 120 feet gopuram adorned with beautiful mythological figures. There is a smaller entrance on another side which faces the sacred tank.

Our friendly auto driver suggested that we should complete the day’s circuit with a visit to the Vadapalani Andavar Temple that is dedicated to Lord Murugan (Karthika). Originally started in a thatched hut with a painted picture of Lord Murugan in 1890 by Annaswami Nayakar, it underwent major reconstruction in 1920. The temple is built in traditional lines of South Indian temples with the rajagopuram at the main entrance and a huge tank in the vicinity. This is one place where we found a huge number of devotees and managed to get into the paid line which got us a faster darshan of the sanctum sanctorum where you get to see a smiling Murugan who is standing and blessing all the devotees. Incidentally, he even wears a footwear.

Due to paucity of time and also stories of long waits and queues at Tirupati, which sounded quite daunting, we got a darshan of Lord Balaji and Sri Padmawati Thayaar at T Nagar. These two deities are exact replicas of the TTD temples at Tirupati.

One day, a friend of old, invited me to a dance performance by her daughter. I had not seen a live Bharatnatyam dance performance for very long and made my way to Narada Gana Sabha to witness the same. But before going there, lest be made to look like an ignorant fool, did a little homework on this dance form. Bharatanatyam is an Indian classical dance form based on religious and spiritual themes.

Dancer: Kum. Ranganayaki Vijayaraghavan

Bharatanatyam dance is broken down into three very broad divisions: Nritta (pure dance), Nritya (conveys a meaning to the audience through hand gestures) and Natya (consists of the elements of drama). Bharatanatyam style is noted for its fixed upper torso, bent legs, and flexed knees combined with footwork, and a vocabulary of sign language based on gestures of hands, eyes, and face muscles. The dance is accompanied by music and a singer, and typically the dancer's guru is present as the director-conductor of the performance and art.

What I witnessed that evening was quite magical. The graceful movements of the dancer, the mellifluous music in the background with the singing created a devotional atmosphere in the auditorium. The performance started off with alarippu or the beginning or the warm up portion and ended with tilaana which is the fast-paced rhythm with sculpturesque positions and in between were some beautiful compositions. The abhinaya on Tulasidas’ Thumaka Thumaka Ram Chandra was performed with such elegance that I kept humming the song much after the show and the scene of the dancer enacting Kaushalya rocking baby Ram on her thigh kept running in my mind over and over. The biggest portion of the performance was enacting the story of Salabega, who Muslim by birth, was one of the greatest devotees of Lord Jagannath and composed many bhajans in honour of the Lord. The legend says that after spending a year at Vrindavan as an ascetic, he was returning to Puri and wanted to see the Ratha Yatra festival of Lord Jagannath when he fell ill. Feeling helpless, he prayed to the Lord requesting Him to wait till he was able to reach Puri. On the day of the Return Cart Festival, the cart of Lord Jagannath did not move until Salabega arrived. A remarkable story narrated through an outstanding performance by the young girl on stage.

You must be wondering why I included Bharatanatyam in the Temple Run. The answer is easy, my friends. This dance was performed in early days in temples of South India and was later brought out into the open. The sadhana of the learners and the themes are purely religious and what amazed me was the on-the- dot start and ending of the performance which showed how well the performance was choreographed and timed…the devotion is extraordinary and the results of years of hard work were evident even for a layman like me that evening. Yesterday, the world has lost one of the greatest performers of Bharatanatyam… Yamini Krishnamurthy…I take this opportunity to offer my humble tribute to the great danseuse.

During my morning daily walks, I was fascinated by a school whose name I had heard a lot. This was the Good Shepherd Convent. I was reminded of a video shared by a friend about a speaker who said that parents and teachers cannot engineer the personalities, IQ and academic qualifications of children even if they try. The children are not a blank slate on which they get to write. Parents and teachers should be like shepherds to unique individuals and not as engineers who have designed the sheep. Shepherds are powerful people who pick the best pastures where the sheep will graze and develop and grow. They determine whether they are appropriately nourished and protected. So, it was first the school’s name Good Shepherd that attracted me and then I saw a huge board put up by the alumni celebrating the centenary year of this wonderful school which caught my attention. Now you might ask me again, why a school as a temple? The answer is simple, if India has to develop and grow as a nation, it needs to deliver to its children the fundamental right of good education and initial elementary education of school has to be prioritised. While the first PM of this country called Bhakra Nangal Dam as one of the temples of modern India, I would say it is now time to designate schools as the real temples of tomorrow’s modern developed India. The ‘Good Shepherds’ have to be recognised and rewarded. Only an educated India can truly take pride to stand tall in the comity of great nations.

SS 

The Reunion

It was late evening at Lutyens Delhi and the traffic on the road was sparse. The mid-November chill was in the air. It was relatively quiet in the area, except in one of the palatial bungalows where a lot of merriment was happening. A motley group of around thirty people in their late fifties and early sixties seemed to be having a good time. The men outnumbered the ladies almost six to one and the minority group was sitting inside the house in the living room with old classic paintings on the walls and antique memorabilia kept thoughtfully on the sideboards and tables. The talk was centered around the grand Indian wedding recently concluded at Mumbai, about the clothes, the unending phEras tour and the amount of money spent in the celebrations that screamed of sheer ostentation. The ladies were wearing smart and elegant dresses, boots and leather jackets and had wine glasses in their hands. A few ash trays with stubs were also going around on the centre table along with some lovely finger foods like kebabs and puffs.  The conversation seemed lively and everyone had something to add to the story. People seemed happy. A couple of men folk, too, joined the conversation in between and added their two bits and then walked away.

The atmosphere in the verandah and open-air garden seemed livelier with the huge spread of wines and liquor on a table. There were also a few bottles of soft drinks for the nay havers. A few of the oldies were hanging around this table but the main group was all huddled together and laughing out loud. Some of them spoke about how they would drop their pencils and then go under the desk trying to pick it up but actually trying to peep at the legs of the pretty elocution teacher sitting in front on a raised platform wearing a tiny skirt. One of them dropped a bomb when he declared that he had many a time seen much beyond the long shapely legs and the others quickly pounced on him saying he was lying. But the chubby guy insisted and also went on to describe in great detail what he had seen and what others never did. It was a moment of instant glory for the man. Now began a session of one-upmanship where each was trying to talk about their school time experiences and moments of ecstasy with teachers, damsels and heartthrobs of old, each one better than the other. 

Seeing this group and listening to their conversation, it was all but evident that this was a reunion of an all-boys school where the only pretty ladies they laid their eyes were the good-looking young teachers and the tiffin time peeping across the bushes that separated their school from the all-girls schools. Boys who announced they had girlfriends were the heroes and worshipped by the rest who then enjoyed the lewd and juicy stories the heroes would create, leaving the awestruck audience to imagine life in a La La Land. Memories of childhood and the so-called trauma of not having mixed freely and in a friendly manner with girls in their young adolescent age seemed to have stuck to these oldies who refused to grow up even after so many years. But one thing was clear, that these men were buddies of old and their friendship as thick as the trunk of a mahogany tree. They all looked forward to this one day in a calendar year when they would descend from all over the globe and India to meet at one place for an evening which turned back their aging clocks by fifty years.

The party was at its peak when a lady, wearing a bright Kanjeevaram silk saree and a pashmina shawl draped on her, walked in. The chatter suddenly stopped and people were looking at each other, not knowing who this new entrant was. The host took courage and went up to ask…

Good evening Ma’am. I think you may have come to the wrong address. Let me help you find your way to the right house.

The lady smiled and said, I have come to the right place. I know it well. It was there on the invitation message. You must be Vinni…right?

Yes, I am Vinni. How come you know my name? I don’t think we have met before.

I know you and know all the others sitting there. I have seen all your pictures from school days to the many reunions you have had over the years. 

Then please come in and join the party and also solve this mystery about yourself. Happy to have one more lady in the group. There is enough food and drinks for you to feel at home.

The lady smiled and walked up to the cane chairs where all the men were seated. By now the ladies had also come out of the living room. They sensed something was wrong as there was no noise coming from outside. Possibly, they were worried their men had forgotten to take them home after drowning in the spirits. The sight looked almost like the childhood days when the madari would come, beat the dumroo and start the monkey dance while singing songs from Hindi films.

Hello everyone. I am Bela Bose, your friend Montu’s wife. 

Oh…that’s wonderful. But why isn’t Montu here? He never misses any of the reunions. Hope he is not behind the Chinese bars… Hong Kong is a changed place now.

The hostess stepped forward; You guys are such a discourteous lot. Didn’t your Irish brothers teach you how to behave with a lady… how could they? They themselves never had luck with ladies. 

Bela, welcome to our home. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. I was also missing Montu because in this whole crowd of happy-go-lucky drinkers, he always preferred light Darjeeling tea and enjoyed it. Shall I also get you a cup of tea and something to eat?

Thank you so much. I do not blame these ‘boys’ for being so surprised to see me as no one has ever met me before. I came here today, for a promise I made to Montu. 

A few months ago, Montu had a terrible pain in his abdomen and was diagnosed with a tumour in his pancreas. The tumour had spread all over and the doctor, as a last resort, tried surgery. Montu did not come out of the OT. He breathed his last on the table. A few days before the surgery, he was in great pain and I was sitting beside him. He said that the school reunion, which he had never missed over the last twenty-five odd years, was coming up in two weeks. Since the planning for the get together usually happened many months in advance, he had confirmed that he would be definitely coming. He showed me the WhatsApp group messages with all of you writing about how much you all were looking forward to this year’s reunion which would mark forty years of leaving school. 

Montu had booked his tickets and stay almost two months ago and then things went from bad to worse with each passing day. He never wrote about his illness in the group or with any of you one on one even though he considered you all more than his own blood relations. That night he asked me that if something were to happen to him, I should not disclose it to anyone of you or else the reunion would be called off. Secondly, I was to keep the WA group chat alive and he asked me to keep posting a line or two confirming attendance and finally, I should go to Delhi, if he failed to make it. 

Bela had tears rolling down her cheeks as she finished speaking. Her voice too had choked. The silence in the house was eerie and understandably so. There were many who broke down listening to Bela. They all put their glasses down and one by one they walked across to her, hugging her, saying a few words or just kept their heads bowed in sadness and respect. The playful little French bulldog in the house could also make out the change of mood and quietly strolled to where Bela stood and put his head on his forelegs and lay on the floor without disturbing anyone. 

Bela wiped off her tears and then picked up one glass of wine from the centre-table and announced …I am sure Montu would be sad if the party sprit here were to be dampened by his life story. He was always smiling and laughing and I am sure each one of you knew him as much or even more than I knew him. He always played pranks and often got into trouble in school. He told me how he created ruckus in the classroom when the teacher was away and was made to stand out for three days. Then of course there were other instances where the teacher made him stand on the desk with shoes held in outstretched arms for playing mischief. So, for the spirit of Montu, I propose a toast to the Band of Brothers as you call yourself. Pick up your glasses and join me and wish your friend a happy afterlife. I am sure he must be watching us from up there and wanting us to celebrate our friendship and our annual reunion.

All in the house picked up their glasses and in unison shouted…. To Montu and To the Band of Brothers, forever and ever more!

यारों, दोस्ती बड़ी ही हसीन है

ये ना हो तो क्या फिर बोलो ये ज़िंदगी है?,

SS 

Trilogy

While cleaning up the vacant house in Delhi, I happened to pick a few editions of National Insurance News to cheer up D who happened to be a part of the editorial board of the company's quarterly newsletter. Those were the good old days when the scripts were written in hand, with folded hands you asked the office typist to type the matter and then corrected many times over and with each round of re-typing, your backbone bent forward in subservience that much more than before. Then came the rounds with the printer for the proof reading and layout, all done, painstakingly, manually. With some time in hand, I tried to glance through the contents of these magazines and suddenly came across an article written by me in the Jan-March 92 edition of NIN. I had completely forgotten about the article which had been awarded the second-best entry on the subject of environment. 

Re-printing the article written about thirty-two years ago which may appear in pretty much amateurish language and style but the theme and situation are definitely relevant even today. Like a good student of history, the article called Trilogy is in three time periods where the first and second parts deal with the future in 2025 and 2050, as I saw it then. You did not need the talent of Nostradamus to foresee the future that reckless and mindless deforestation and concretisation were doing to the world. The third part is how we should have acted since 1991 when this article was actually written. 

Part I

Year: 2025 AD

Place: My Home

Time: A very good morning

I get up and open the window

Take a deep breath of fresh air

Cough..cough..cough…

It’s good, fresh morning no more.

My little daughter comes to me 

She wishes to go out in the rain.

She goes, comes rushing back and black

She looks as if she’s come out of a drain

For rain ain’t rain anymore.

I take her to the shower

Put the tap on

Drip…drip…drip…

Our throats go dry and showers have choked

We went without fresh water for ever more

I go to the Supermarket,

Buy a few gas masks,

Acid proof rain coats,

A small desalination unit

And a synthetic Christmas Tree

To celebrate the ‘Last Supper’.

Part II

Year: 2050 AD

Place: Mount Arafat

Time: Heavenly

Overheard from the clouds.

First Cockroach: Trying to play food ball alone?

Second Cockroach: This is not a ball

It is a seed and I’m planting it.

First: Planting it…for what?

We have nothing to do with seeds and plants.

Second: I’m planting it for I have seen man

Who once inhabited this planet.

He prospered by cutting trees,

By building concrete jungles, polluting the air

He did everything for himself

But forgot Nature.

Today, Nature has forgotten him,

What good is our life without man,

We lived in his house,

Ate his food,

Played hide and seek with him.

Only if he had looked after Nature

The way Nature looked after him.

He would have been alive.

I am planting this seed

May be a plant may grow

And man might stalk the green earth again.

Part III

Year: 1991 AD

Place: A remote corner in India

Time: To Act

The foregoing is not a science fiction

But just a peep into the future.

What can I do?

There is an old jungle saying

“No grass grows where Phantom wee-wees”

This must be corrected today

“Grass grows wherever man wants it to be.”

Let us go to the forest

And Chipko to the trees

“Cut me before you cut the log”

And become a true Green Warrior.

Chimneys and dams must be built

But not for the ‘dam’nation of the man

Nature and Progress must become comrades in arms

And not foes in arms.

Let us ask ourselves a few questions…

Have I planted a sapling so far?

If No, then it is time to Act.

Am I Polluting the air?

If Yes, then it is time to Retract.

Have I been wasting or polluting water?

If  Yes, then it is to time to ‘Hydrophobia’ct.

Can I write a book “How Green is my Valley.”

If No, then it is time to die…

Save the Planet: Perhaps it is not too late!

SS