December and January are the two months when Chennai enjoys a nip in the air. The weather is amicable and the mornings can sometimes be pleasantly cold. To sum it up these are the two months when sleeping in the morning is a treat. However this January, I have been very serious about my walks. After a hiatus of a couple of months, I have got down to serious business. The chill and the darkness is not an impediment any more and I religiously leave the house at six in the morning and go about my normal 45 mins to one hour of brisk walking. Now don’t get me wrong for I have not been bitten by the fitness bug. But on the other hand I do want to be fit, in order to execute a pilgrimage which I plan to undertake next month.
I have known about this shrine, for over forty five years, and it has been my wish to visit the same. Being a woman, I knew that I had to wait for the right time to come before I could fulfil my wishes. Now it is four years since the “right time”, however I am yet to fulfil my wish. It is not for lack of opportunities, for my husband goes to the said shrine at least twice a year. Again it is not for lack of piety that I did not make the trip. The reason for the delay is due to the trepidation that I feel each time I think of the pilgrimage. Finally I have taken the plunge, for otherwise I feel that it may be too late and thus I may not be able to perform the pilgrimage the way I would like to. Thus on the 15th of February 2010, I am going to Sabarimala and with this realise my dream of having a darshan of the presiding deity, Lord Ayyappa.
The first time I heard or remember hearing about Sabarimala and Lord Ayyappa was in the year 1964, when my father made his one and only pilgrimage to the shrine. At that point, a pilgrimage to Sabarimala was filled with danger as the trek uphill was hard and arduous and the forests filled with wild animals. It is said that a successful return after the trip was itself considered a gift from the God. The preparations for the trip begin forty one days in advance. The devotees begin the vrittam/abstinenance on the first day of the Malayalam month of Vrischikam, which coincides with the 16th of November at most times. Once the vrittam begins, the devotees dress in simple black outfit, which in most cases is a dhoti for men and a sari for women. Abstinence from all pleasures both physical and mental is a must thus ensuring a state of body and mind which would take one through the pilgrimage almost unscathed. With the passing of time many of these outward customs have been modified to suit the devotee; however the core of the pilgrimage is the total belief in the Almighty.
To me observing the vrittam has never been difficult simply because I do it every year for the said forty one days. As for my dressing and appearance, I continue in the usual manner as I plan to wear the “mala” only on the day of my departure. Once the mala is around the neck, the degree of purity around the house should be of the highest order and this is something I feel will be difficult to attain. Being my first trip to the shrine, I sometimes wonder if I am doing things the right way, however I am sure that the almighty will accept my devotion in the manner in which I am able to fulfil it.
Ever since the trip has been planned, I must have asked over a hundred people about the trek to the shrine and have come up with over hundred varied answers regarding the same. There are the youngsters who tell me that they just run up and hence are able to cover the distance in little over an hour. This version, much as I would love to believe, I know is next to impossible for someone of my age and disposition. Then there are others who have told me that it is not as difficult as it is made out to be and can be done with considerable ease. There are also some who have told me that it is hard and hence should be taken with extreme caution. Seeing my physical appearance, people have even questioned me on my wish to trek my way up. The other option I have is to use a palanquin. Although there is a possibility that as a last resort I may have to use that service, I will nevertheless begin my pilgrimage on foot like the thousands of devotees who do it all the time.
I get some kind of solace when I am told of how people with serious physical disabilities have taken the journey on foot. They attribute these unbelievable stories to sheer perseverance and implicit faith. Somehow extreme perseverance has never been my forte and thus I feel incapacited in that regard. However my prayers are that my faith will make up where and when my perseverance fails. I have no clue as to what is in store; however I have decided that I will take each step of the pilgrimage in the manner in which it comes. Having said that, I will be lying to myself if I say that I am not apprehensive. Considering the importance of the Shrine and the difficulty of the trip, there is no way in which I can take this pilgrimage lightly. Whenever I think of the journey, I end up with a total blank for I do not know as to where I stand as far as the performance goes.
There are I feel a couple of things in my favour and the one thing that stands topmost is the fact that I walked up Thirumala, which is also an exercise in perseverance. But then this was something I did eleven years ago and although mentally I am as young, I cannot say the same about my physical state. I wonder if the same pair of legs that took me up Thirumala will now be able to take me up Sabarimala?? I hope and pray that my legs will not let me down. The second and the most important thing that is in my favour, is my faith in the Lord. I have felt his invisible presence so many times. I always feel that he has heard my prayers and has never failed to open my eyes to solutions.
Next week I begin my journey in total submission to the Lord, however this will still not put to rest the feeling of trepidation that goes on in my mind. How I wish I could master that anxiety, but then if I am able to do that, I would have moved into another league.
PS. You will definitely hear from me once I return from the pilgrimage.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
My Age Meter
The day I turned fifty, a couple of my friends came home in the morning to wish me. They were both younger to me by months and hence were anxiously awaiting their golden birthday. One of them wanted to know if I felt old on having reached the Golden Age. I was kind of surprised for in my scheme of things, the modern fifty was equivalent to the thirty of yore. Not bothering to explain that logic, which is there for all the readers of my blog to read, I just told them that the one measure I use to calculate my age is my staircase. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t live on the 10th floor of a skyscraper that does not have a lift. I live in a two storey home where my bedroom is on the first floor. There are precisely nineteen steps to climb and even between these steps there are two landings. When that is the case, there is no reason for me to use the stairs as an yard stick for calculating my age as it is not at all an Herculean task. But the meter quotient is in the way in which I climb. I literally run up and down the stairs. My father who is invariably watching the television in the downstairs hall, hears the thud thud noise made by my feet and there is never a day when he does not comment on the same. He feels that the way in which I charge up and down, could bring about an accident. Thus my reply to my friends when elaborated went like this – the day I can’t climb the stairs, the way I always do, then that day on I would consider myself old.
It has been almost three years since that day and I am happy to say that I still climb or rather shall I say, charge up the stairs. With a bedroom and some other interests on the first floor and most of the mundane happenings on the ground floor, it is inevitable that the said stairs have to be manipulated atleast a dozen times in a day. There have been times when I must have done it more than a couple of dozen times. Every step in that flight of stairs is by heart to me and I know exactly as to the depth of each one of them. This mostly comes in handy during Vishu kanni, when I have to go down the stairs with my eyes closed and enter the pooja room to light the lamp. The staircase is so well embedded in my brain that I can reel off all its features including the number of steps to each landing like the back of my hand. Come to think of it, the staircase is the most used passage in the house as far as I am concerned.
There are innumerable reasons that makes the trips upstairs mandatory and of them all the least important happens to be the fact that my bedroom is situated there. The first and what was the foremost was the fact that I am the youngest adult in the house. I may have reached the golden age but that does not apply in my household where it is my duty to go up and look for things or fetch things which I have placed. Over the years I have trained Narayani and at times I get her to do these chores. Then there is this one household appliance which only I operate and this unfortunately has found a place on the first floor. So everytime a load of clothes have to be washed, I need to make a couple of trips. Then there are ofcourse the innumerable documents which are there for safe keeping and whenever they are required, yours truly has to charge up.
But what really made the trips to the first floor more frequent and enjoyable was the installation of the computer. Initially in 1999 when the computer was bought, it was the excitement of receiving emails and this made me go up atleast three or four times a day to check out if anyone in the whole wide world had anything important or silly to convey to me. Then I started getting smarter and began instant messaging to family and friends. Having them all over the world, I had to make frequent trips in order to catch up with their time zones. I was really excited that I could chat instantaneously with my sisters, cousins and host of friends at the same time. The fact that I learnt typing in my younger days helped me to maneouvre the keyboard of the computer with ease and thus I could manage upto three windows at a given point of time. Thus, almost every hour saw me come up to see as to who was out there for me to exchange news with. The final impetus with regard to the computer which made me increase my charge upstairs was when I started to maintain a blog. Anytime an idea came to my mind, I had to put it in print least I forgot the chain of thought. Kumar seeing my involvement with my writing, thought that it would be convenient if I had a laptop and thus got me one during the middle of last year. The laptop is fine as long as it is the IM, audio or video chat. However for writing my articles, nothing can replace my desktop which has a permanent place on the first floor. The quietness that the first floor offers helps me to think and I consider that corner a sacred one.
Thus the staircase is not only a passage, but it also provides an escape route from the all prevalent hustle and bustle that is “Sowparnika”. The nineteen steps opens the door to a totally serene environment centred mostly around my desktop PC and my sviwel chair. Topics for my blog just flash in my minds eye whenever I am seated there and it seems as if Godess Saraswati has her all pervading presence concentrated in this corner.
With writing having become a passion, there is no doubt that I would like to write as long as I can and this would definitely involve the climb upstairs. The best way I would like to do that is to charge, and thus remain young as far as my biological age goes. As for my mental age, I consider myself to be in my prime what with my writing and sudoku taking care of it.
P.S. If ever I feel that the charge is turning into a trot, I try to do whatever it takes to retain my favoured gait.
It has been almost three years since that day and I am happy to say that I still climb or rather shall I say, charge up the stairs. With a bedroom and some other interests on the first floor and most of the mundane happenings on the ground floor, it is inevitable that the said stairs have to be manipulated atleast a dozen times in a day. There have been times when I must have done it more than a couple of dozen times. Every step in that flight of stairs is by heart to me and I know exactly as to the depth of each one of them. This mostly comes in handy during Vishu kanni, when I have to go down the stairs with my eyes closed and enter the pooja room to light the lamp. The staircase is so well embedded in my brain that I can reel off all its features including the number of steps to each landing like the back of my hand. Come to think of it, the staircase is the most used passage in the house as far as I am concerned.
There are innumerable reasons that makes the trips upstairs mandatory and of them all the least important happens to be the fact that my bedroom is situated there. The first and what was the foremost was the fact that I am the youngest adult in the house. I may have reached the golden age but that does not apply in my household where it is my duty to go up and look for things or fetch things which I have placed. Over the years I have trained Narayani and at times I get her to do these chores. Then there is this one household appliance which only I operate and this unfortunately has found a place on the first floor. So everytime a load of clothes have to be washed, I need to make a couple of trips. Then there are ofcourse the innumerable documents which are there for safe keeping and whenever they are required, yours truly has to charge up.
But what really made the trips to the first floor more frequent and enjoyable was the installation of the computer. Initially in 1999 when the computer was bought, it was the excitement of receiving emails and this made me go up atleast three or four times a day to check out if anyone in the whole wide world had anything important or silly to convey to me. Then I started getting smarter and began instant messaging to family and friends. Having them all over the world, I had to make frequent trips in order to catch up with their time zones. I was really excited that I could chat instantaneously with my sisters, cousins and host of friends at the same time. The fact that I learnt typing in my younger days helped me to maneouvre the keyboard of the computer with ease and thus I could manage upto three windows at a given point of time. Thus, almost every hour saw me come up to see as to who was out there for me to exchange news with. The final impetus with regard to the computer which made me increase my charge upstairs was when I started to maintain a blog. Anytime an idea came to my mind, I had to put it in print least I forgot the chain of thought. Kumar seeing my involvement with my writing, thought that it would be convenient if I had a laptop and thus got me one during the middle of last year. The laptop is fine as long as it is the IM, audio or video chat. However for writing my articles, nothing can replace my desktop which has a permanent place on the first floor. The quietness that the first floor offers helps me to think and I consider that corner a sacred one.
Thus the staircase is not only a passage, but it also provides an escape route from the all prevalent hustle and bustle that is “Sowparnika”. The nineteen steps opens the door to a totally serene environment centred mostly around my desktop PC and my sviwel chair. Topics for my blog just flash in my minds eye whenever I am seated there and it seems as if Godess Saraswati has her all pervading presence concentrated in this corner.
With writing having become a passion, there is no doubt that I would like to write as long as I can and this would definitely involve the climb upstairs. The best way I would like to do that is to charge, and thus remain young as far as my biological age goes. As for my mental age, I consider myself to be in my prime what with my writing and sudoku taking care of it.
P.S. If ever I feel that the charge is turning into a trot, I try to do whatever it takes to retain my favoured gait.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Paradise Isle
(This is a travelogue I wrote of a trip to Sri Lanka and was published in our Rotary Newsletter)
The seed was sown in the beginning of the Rotary year, however it bore fruit only in mid November when the members of the Rotary Club of Madras Midtown, finalised the plans for the first International outstation trip to our neighbouring Sri Lanka. It was decided that the trip would be from the the 4th of December to the 7th of December.
Thus the morning of the 4th saw the group which included Rotarians, Anns and Annettes and a couple of close friends assemble at the Anna International Airport at 4.30a.m. After the customary check in and immigration formalities we proceeded to the departure lounge and it was not long before the men turned left and did a thorough study of the Duty Free Shops and came out loaded with their favourite intoxicants. The group then boarded the Air India Express flight at 7.45a.m. and within an hour landed at the Bandaranaike International Airport, Colombo.
The ride to Bentota which is 111 kilometres from the airport was an experience in itself. Club Bentota, the resort has the advantage of a wonderful location. It has the river on one side and the sea on the other. After a very traditional welcome the group dispersed to their assigned rooms with the orders from the President to meet for lunch at the fixed time. Lunch was a buffet service as was all the other meals. The restaurant which faced the river provided the perfect ambience for a relaxed meal. Having eaten to our hearts content, some of the group decided to take a siesta, whereas the others went on to explore the various facilities the place provided. The annettes, I must say had the best time ever. They were seen running all over the place, playing tennis, table tennis, beach volleyball and some were even trying their hands at billiards.
Towards early evening most of us moved to the beach and the next couple of hours until sunset, it was a wonderful interaction with sun, sand and surf. The waters played the perfect host and every member had a wonderful time enveloped by it. The enthusiasm and the energy levels of the members were so high that after sunset the session with water continued in the pool where there was a heated game of water polo. With local liquor, soft drinks and some short eats being part of the deal, there was no end to its flow. A glass seemed the favourite companion of both the men and the kids. Dinner saw another wonderful spread and following this there was entertainment in the form of a live band playing. A couple of Hindi songs were sung in honour of our group. I must say that the evening was indeed a treat and could not have got more perfect. What with the balmy breeze and almost a perfect moon, the wonderful music and good company one could not have asked for more. Once the DJ came on, the youngsters of the group took to the floor and shook more than their legs.
Day two started with a bang for the main activity of the morning was the water sports. The children went crazy seeing the Banana Boats and the Water Scooters. However this activity brought out the child in every adult. No one wanted to be left behind and thus all of us took part in both or atleast one of the activities. There were some mishaps/torpedoes both accidental and intentional and this I must say just added to the fun. The rest of the morning saw the men involved in flexing their biceps trying all kinds of combinations including the local toddy. The ladies had their own fun and the kids had a spirit which was indomitable. The feeling was one of happiness all round. I am sure everyone must have wished how wonderful it would be if we had such breaks at regular intervals. There was a repeat of our tryst with the sea, however on the second day the duration was longer and the experimenting more. The entertainment that evening was a laser show and the highlight of it was the participation of Gayatri, daughter of Rtn. Karthik, as a mermaid in the finale. The dancing that evening was really vigourous and the song that literally stole the show was our very own “Manmadha Rasa”.
The next morning the bags were packed and with a heavy heart we all left the Paradise Isle. The second part of our trip was a night at Colombo and thus we checked in at Hotel Galadari. This hotel is situated on the water front and thus has a beautiful view. After lunch we went on a sightseeing cum shopping trip. With most of the members interested in the latter, the sightseeing was cut short. However we did visit a Buddhist temple and did get to see the places of interest. The highlight was the visit to the House of Fashion. Seeing the enthusiasm of the group I was reminded of the English idiom, “Bull in a China Shop”. I am glad that the same enthusiasm was not displayed at the first store we visited for then we would have had to pay heavily for the damages that would have incurred. The store in question was the beautiful Noritake showroom. The evening saw the group involved in various activities. Some of the adults trooped into the disco at the hotel, others continued with their elbow exercise however it was the children who had their agenda planned out. They got together in one room and there was no doubt that they had a whale of a time.
All good things must come to an end and thus on the 7th morning the one thing that went through everyone’s mind was the question as to why the holiday should finish this quickly. The Kingfisher flight to Chennai was at 3.30p.m. and hence around noon we left for the airport. The good byes at the Chennai Airport were never ending. The consensus was that this was a holiday to be remembered and cherished. Although most of the group have visited places more exotic, the fun and good times enjoyed during this short break stood way above.
I thank the President for entrusting me with this travelogue, for it has given me the opportunity to relive those four enchanting days. I know that I have not done justice to whatever I experienced and enjoyed during my break. But then there is only so much that one can put on paper. The rest is something personal for the participant to relish and treasure.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Blessed
Today is Guruvayur Ekadasi, a very auspicious day at the Sri Krishna Temple, Guruvayur, Kerala. Ekadasi is the 11th phase of the moon and the Guruvayur Ekadasi falls in the Malayalam month of Vrichikkam which coincides with November 15th to December 15th of the English Calendar. Being devout bhakthas of Lord Guruvayurappa, it is but natural that all of us observe the Ekadasi rituals and abstain from consuming those articles considered taboo. Since a trip to Guruvayur is impractical, the best that I could do was to go to the local Guruvayurappan temple and offer prayers. I am not sure of the reason for the celebration of this Ekadasi or the legend behind it, however from the time I can remember, it has been the norm in my household for the ladies to observe this day.
The reason why I write this article is because; the day has become synonymous in Guruvayur with the memorial day of Gajarajan Guruvayur Kesavan. Guruvayur Kesavan as most Malayalis would know is an elephant that belonged to the temple for sixty years from 1916-1976 and he breathed his last on Guruvayur Ekadasi day. It is said that he fasted the whole day and towards the evening just collapsed with his tusk held high and facing the deity. A death any Bhaktha of the Lord would yearn for. To commemorate the life of this greatest of Bhakthas of the Lord, a life size replica of Kesavan stands at a vantage point in Guruvayur and his tusks encase his photo at the entrance to the Sanctum Sanctorum.
Kerala is the land of coconut palms, backwaters, beautiful temples and wonderful temple festivals. If there is one animal that plays a significant part in the day to day functioning of the temples, it is of course the mighty pachyderms. It is the pride of the temple to own a Pachyderm and there are those temples which own more than one. Sri Krishna Temple being one of the oldest and most revered temples of Kerala; it is but natural that the temple has been gifted with elephants right through its history. At present the temple has over 100 elephants. These elephants are sheltered in a sprawling venue called Punathur Kotta situated about 3kms from the temple. With the temple having enough funds, the elephants are cared for very well and every year they are given a month’s rest when they undergo ayurvedic treatment.
Kesavan the pachyderm belonged to the Nilambur royal family and was donated to the Guruvayur temple in the year 1916 when he was about 12 years of age. His majestic appearance and his fine temperament must have earned him that extra edge for very soon he was brought into the temple for the daily activities. It was just a matter of time before he replaced the erstwhile head Pachyderm Padmanabhan. In his 60 long years of service to the Lord, he has had the privilege of heading all the temple processions and of taking part in the innumerable Sribalis (circumambulation of the sanctum sanctorum) with the Utsava Deity on his back. I don’t think there has been any elephant in the history of the temple or for that matter in the State of Kerala that was as popular as Kesavan. Since he was almost always present in the temple courtyard, a visit to the temple ensured an interaction with Kesavan too. Those were the days when the temple was not as crowded as what it is today and we as kids would place some banana or few coins on the tip of his trunk and he would in turn bless us by placing his trunk on our head. A trip to Guruvayur always seemed incomplete without seeing Kesavan and most devotees would make it a point to go and see him in the grounds adjacent to the temple where he would be tied. Thus Kesavan had become an integral part of the temple and by being so had also become a legend in his life time.
How often does this kind of reverence happen? I am yet to hear of an animal gaining in stature to such dizzying heights so as to be considered as someone next to the Lord. The Hindu puranas have always worshipped animals and all the Gods have had as their vahanas/ vehicles an animal. This is the greatness of the religion which sees all living things in the same light. Thus if Siva has a bull, then it is a mouse for Vinayaka, a peacock for Muruga, a garuda for Vishnu and thus the list goes on. If our ancient scriptures can extol the virtues of these animals and if our religious beliefs can make us accept them as being holy, I see no reason as to why Kesavan the pachyderm cannot be considered in league with the other revered animals which are the vahanas of specific Gods. If in future the historians consider writing once again the history of The Sri Krishna Temple and that of Lord Guruvayurappan, I am sure they would refer to Kesavan as the vahana of the Lord. Sixty years is not a small duration and I am sure there will not be another elephant that will be get this opportunity.
If the 16th and 17th Centuries produced two of the greatest devotees of the Lord, namely Poonthanam who wrote the Njanappaana and Melpathur Narayana Bhattathiri who wrote the Narayaneeyam, it is my strong opinion that the 20th century has had only one undisputed devotee and that is none other than Guruvayur Kesavan. The two above mentioned poets have been honoured with their statues inside the courtyard of the temple and in case of Melpathur; the Narayaneeyam is played every day in the morning. Kesavan is omnipresent in Guruvayur and from every nook and corner his picture on wall hangings calls for our attention. Kesavan’s picture adorns the walls of so many Malayali homes and his story is something that every school going child knows. If the talk is about elephants, (which is a common topic of conversation in Kerala) it is sure to steer towards Kesavan for all Pachyderms are always compared to the mighty Kesavan.
It is 33 years since his death, but his legend lives stronger than ever before. He is definitely the Gajarajan (King among elephants) a title endowed on him for his fifty years of service to the Lord. His life was special and the grandest finale to life which is death was even more stupendous. The multitudes of true bhakthas who live on this planet cannot even dream of a mukthi like the one given to Kesavan.
It is very rare for someone to be earmarked for something special and in keeping with the Hindu belief, it just shows that that someone need not always be a homo sapien, the so called highest of creation. I consider myself blessed to have lived in the era of this Blessed Bhaktha.
Posted by Usha Kumar at 2:15 AM
4 comments:
Mohan Kumar said...
Very Enlightening even for some for some of living in Kerala. Incidentally, we will be going to Guruvayur next week and will certainly this perspective in mind.
December 3, 2009 12:38 AM
Sankaran said...
I am aware that elephant is considered as a holy animal and it is a common sight in Tamilnadu and Kerala to find one or more elephants in all big temples. I never thought that Guruvayur elephant had gained stature to such dizzying heights so as to be considered as someone next to the Lord.
December 5, 2009 12:31 PM
Geeta said...
Another thorough research, Usha. Great info!
December 8, 2009 5:35 AM
The reason why I write this article is because; the day has become synonymous in Guruvayur with the memorial day of Gajarajan Guruvayur Kesavan. Guruvayur Kesavan as most Malayalis would know is an elephant that belonged to the temple for sixty years from 1916-1976 and he breathed his last on Guruvayur Ekadasi day. It is said that he fasted the whole day and towards the evening just collapsed with his tusk held high and facing the deity. A death any Bhaktha of the Lord would yearn for. To commemorate the life of this greatest of Bhakthas of the Lord, a life size replica of Kesavan stands at a vantage point in Guruvayur and his tusks encase his photo at the entrance to the Sanctum Sanctorum.
Kerala is the land of coconut palms, backwaters, beautiful temples and wonderful temple festivals. If there is one animal that plays a significant part in the day to day functioning of the temples, it is of course the mighty pachyderms. It is the pride of the temple to own a Pachyderm and there are those temples which own more than one. Sri Krishna Temple being one of the oldest and most revered temples of Kerala; it is but natural that the temple has been gifted with elephants right through its history. At present the temple has over 100 elephants. These elephants are sheltered in a sprawling venue called Punathur Kotta situated about 3kms from the temple. With the temple having enough funds, the elephants are cared for very well and every year they are given a month’s rest when they undergo ayurvedic treatment.
Kesavan the pachyderm belonged to the Nilambur royal family and was donated to the Guruvayur temple in the year 1916 when he was about 12 years of age. His majestic appearance and his fine temperament must have earned him that extra edge for very soon he was brought into the temple for the daily activities. It was just a matter of time before he replaced the erstwhile head Pachyderm Padmanabhan. In his 60 long years of service to the Lord, he has had the privilege of heading all the temple processions and of taking part in the innumerable Sribalis (circumambulation of the sanctum sanctorum) with the Utsava Deity on his back. I don’t think there has been any elephant in the history of the temple or for that matter in the State of Kerala that was as popular as Kesavan. Since he was almost always present in the temple courtyard, a visit to the temple ensured an interaction with Kesavan too. Those were the days when the temple was not as crowded as what it is today and we as kids would place some banana or few coins on the tip of his trunk and he would in turn bless us by placing his trunk on our head. A trip to Guruvayur always seemed incomplete without seeing Kesavan and most devotees would make it a point to go and see him in the grounds adjacent to the temple where he would be tied. Thus Kesavan had become an integral part of the temple and by being so had also become a legend in his life time.
How often does this kind of reverence happen? I am yet to hear of an animal gaining in stature to such dizzying heights so as to be considered as someone next to the Lord. The Hindu puranas have always worshipped animals and all the Gods have had as their vahanas/ vehicles an animal. This is the greatness of the religion which sees all living things in the same light. Thus if Siva has a bull, then it is a mouse for Vinayaka, a peacock for Muruga, a garuda for Vishnu and thus the list goes on. If our ancient scriptures can extol the virtues of these animals and if our religious beliefs can make us accept them as being holy, I see no reason as to why Kesavan the pachyderm cannot be considered in league with the other revered animals which are the vahanas of specific Gods. If in future the historians consider writing once again the history of The Sri Krishna Temple and that of Lord Guruvayurappan, I am sure they would refer to Kesavan as the vahana of the Lord. Sixty years is not a small duration and I am sure there will not be another elephant that will be get this opportunity.
If the 16th and 17th Centuries produced two of the greatest devotees of the Lord, namely Poonthanam who wrote the Njanappaana and Melpathur Narayana Bhattathiri who wrote the Narayaneeyam, it is my strong opinion that the 20th century has had only one undisputed devotee and that is none other than Guruvayur Kesavan. The two above mentioned poets have been honoured with their statues inside the courtyard of the temple and in case of Melpathur; the Narayaneeyam is played every day in the morning. Kesavan is omnipresent in Guruvayur and from every nook and corner his picture on wall hangings calls for our attention. Kesavan’s picture adorns the walls of so many Malayali homes and his story is something that every school going child knows. If the talk is about elephants, (which is a common topic of conversation in Kerala) it is sure to steer towards Kesavan for all Pachyderms are always compared to the mighty Kesavan.
It is 33 years since his death, but his legend lives stronger than ever before. He is definitely the Gajarajan (King among elephants) a title endowed on him for his fifty years of service to the Lord. His life was special and the grandest finale to life which is death was even more stupendous. The multitudes of true bhakthas who live on this planet cannot even dream of a mukthi like the one given to Kesavan.
It is very rare for someone to be earmarked for something special and in keeping with the Hindu belief, it just shows that that someone need not always be a homo sapien, the so called highest of creation. I consider myself blessed to have lived in the era of this Blessed Bhaktha.
Posted by Usha Kumar at 2:15 AM
4 comments:
Mohan Kumar said...
Very Enlightening even for some for some of living in Kerala. Incidentally, we will be going to Guruvayur next week and will certainly this perspective in mind.
December 3, 2009 12:38 AM
Sankaran said...
I am aware that elephant is considered as a holy animal and it is a common sight in Tamilnadu and Kerala to find one or more elephants in all big temples. I never thought that Guruvayur elephant had gained stature to such dizzying heights so as to be considered as someone next to the Lord.
December 5, 2009 12:31 PM
Geeta said...
Another thorough research, Usha. Great info!
December 8, 2009 5:35 AM
Thursday, November 26, 2009
A Rip Off that Ripped Off.
Just yesterday, I was trying to update the phone book on my mobile as there were far too many numbers which were either defunct or belonging to people whose specific purpose is over. Thus I came across the only celebrity number in my list and pondered as to the need the number will have for me in future. I was sure there will not arise any need for that number, but then one can never say for if that be the case, how did the number find a place in my scheme of things? Anyway I have retained it for the time being and will consider deleting it after having a word with my niece for it was she who was responsible for the number finding a place in my mobile phone.
The number belongs to a so called top designer of Chennai and the story of how I found myself in his studio makes interesting reading. I may sound over enthusiastic when I write about my niece Preetha. But then I have to be because she is one over enthusiastic person. The summer of 2008 saw her spend two months with me in India. This was something she wanted to do and so she made the journey by herself and gave us the pleasure of her company. She is a vivacious youngster so interested in all that happens around. She loves Chennai and she loves all the people who frequent the house. She enjoys meeting people and she loves getting to know them. She totally involves herself in all the happenings and to put it in a nut shell, it was a wonderful treat having her here with us.
Most of her needs were simple and things I could fulfill. However there was this one thing she wanted and for that I was at a total loss, not knowing whom to turn to. She wanted to make a party dress for her upcoming Junior Prom party and since she was in India, she thought it a good idea to have one tailor made with an Indian touch. Now the tailors I know are my blouse and salwar suit tailors and both of them have no clue of anything beyond their expertise. I tried asking a couple of friends and they too were very vague of how to go about the same. Preetha felt that for the money she would spend in the US for an off the rack dress, she could get something personal and one of a kind from here. Finally we nailed the person whom we felt would have an idea of such matters. Our guess was correct and the said person had the names of a list of designers. Since it meant Greek and Latin to me, I told the friend that I would leave the choice to her. Thus on a Friday afternoon after fixing an appointment, the three of us went to the exclusive studio of the designer.
The studio was a three storey building and it was done up in a way that I did not think much about. It reminded me of pictures of boudoirs that I had seen in movies. The colours too were garish to go along with the boudoir theme. There were pictures of his star clients dressed in his creations and thus I came to know as to whom among the glitterati of Chennai turned to him to look their “best”. On the first floor was his office and we were ushered in by an assistant and there perched on the table was the designer. To me he seemed more a model for other designer products, what with a Gucci eyeglasses resting on his head and a designer belt to hold his designer jeans around his 24inches waist. The white shirt that he wore I would like to presume was his own creation, for isn’t it right to assume that a top designer will sport at least one piece of his own creation?
Had I been given a choice, I would have walked out of that studio at that point. But the only reason I stayed on was because I trusted my friend in these matters. Preetha at that point was so excited and thus without giving scope for looking around or making a decision, the dress was ordered. Measurements were taken and a date was given for the trial. I was happy, because by then my sister Latha would be in town and thus the responsibility would not be mine any more. Although we had set a limit on the cost, no questions were asked and thus we came out not knowing what we were in for.
On the trial day Latha too came along. The dress looked gorgeous, however it was not fitting and hence some alteration was called for. The designer was in a haste to catch a flight and thus we were left with his Mom to take care of our needs. The mother as advised by the son handed over a bill which exceeded our budget by more than a couple of thousands. Since the designer had left, there was no one we could question and thus came out paying the amount. At that point I felt like the prey in the spider’s web. The sweet talk and enthusiasm that was in plenty during our first trip had dissipated. One reason for this could be the fact that we were one time customers.
Preetha got over her initial shock at the cost and fortunately seemed happy at the outfit. She promised herself that she would lose some weight before her Prom date. The Prom was more than 6 months away and every now and then when we spoke the talk of the dress would come up. Thus the date of the Prom arrived and Preetha’s excitement knew no bounds. When the zip had to be fastened, it refused to budge and on using force the fastener just gave way. It seemed for a few minutes that total chaos reigned. Preetha was shattered and she had to in the eleventh hour look for an alternative. Latha who is very deft with her hands, saved the day and thus the evening went off without any wardrobe malfunction. I really wish that they would send the dress back, for then I could go and meet the designer. Although I have met him twice, I never had a conversation, for he may have thought me not worthy of his time. This would definitely be my chance to pin him down.
Preetha’s senior Prom is fast approaching; however she is dead sure about not ordering another outfit. The prêt a porter dresses though not personal are surely dependable. In the meantime I see pictures of the designer regularly in the papers and the latest one was of his birthday bash were he along with his famous clientele were posing in Victorian/Tudorian outfits. They looked ridiculous and I had a hearty laugh recollecting the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes.
PS. The number will be retained in order for me to have the last word.
The number belongs to a so called top designer of Chennai and the story of how I found myself in his studio makes interesting reading. I may sound over enthusiastic when I write about my niece Preetha. But then I have to be because she is one over enthusiastic person. The summer of 2008 saw her spend two months with me in India. This was something she wanted to do and so she made the journey by herself and gave us the pleasure of her company. She is a vivacious youngster so interested in all that happens around. She loves Chennai and she loves all the people who frequent the house. She enjoys meeting people and she loves getting to know them. She totally involves herself in all the happenings and to put it in a nut shell, it was a wonderful treat having her here with us.
Most of her needs were simple and things I could fulfill. However there was this one thing she wanted and for that I was at a total loss, not knowing whom to turn to. She wanted to make a party dress for her upcoming Junior Prom party and since she was in India, she thought it a good idea to have one tailor made with an Indian touch. Now the tailors I know are my blouse and salwar suit tailors and both of them have no clue of anything beyond their expertise. I tried asking a couple of friends and they too were very vague of how to go about the same. Preetha felt that for the money she would spend in the US for an off the rack dress, she could get something personal and one of a kind from here. Finally we nailed the person whom we felt would have an idea of such matters. Our guess was correct and the said person had the names of a list of designers. Since it meant Greek and Latin to me, I told the friend that I would leave the choice to her. Thus on a Friday afternoon after fixing an appointment, the three of us went to the exclusive studio of the designer.
The studio was a three storey building and it was done up in a way that I did not think much about. It reminded me of pictures of boudoirs that I had seen in movies. The colours too were garish to go along with the boudoir theme. There were pictures of his star clients dressed in his creations and thus I came to know as to whom among the glitterati of Chennai turned to him to look their “best”. On the first floor was his office and we were ushered in by an assistant and there perched on the table was the designer. To me he seemed more a model for other designer products, what with a Gucci eyeglasses resting on his head and a designer belt to hold his designer jeans around his 24inches waist. The white shirt that he wore I would like to presume was his own creation, for isn’t it right to assume that a top designer will sport at least one piece of his own creation?
Had I been given a choice, I would have walked out of that studio at that point. But the only reason I stayed on was because I trusted my friend in these matters. Preetha at that point was so excited and thus without giving scope for looking around or making a decision, the dress was ordered. Measurements were taken and a date was given for the trial. I was happy, because by then my sister Latha would be in town and thus the responsibility would not be mine any more. Although we had set a limit on the cost, no questions were asked and thus we came out not knowing what we were in for.
On the trial day Latha too came along. The dress looked gorgeous, however it was not fitting and hence some alteration was called for. The designer was in a haste to catch a flight and thus we were left with his Mom to take care of our needs. The mother as advised by the son handed over a bill which exceeded our budget by more than a couple of thousands. Since the designer had left, there was no one we could question and thus came out paying the amount. At that point I felt like the prey in the spider’s web. The sweet talk and enthusiasm that was in plenty during our first trip had dissipated. One reason for this could be the fact that we were one time customers.
Preetha got over her initial shock at the cost and fortunately seemed happy at the outfit. She promised herself that she would lose some weight before her Prom date. The Prom was more than 6 months away and every now and then when we spoke the talk of the dress would come up. Thus the date of the Prom arrived and Preetha’s excitement knew no bounds. When the zip had to be fastened, it refused to budge and on using force the fastener just gave way. It seemed for a few minutes that total chaos reigned. Preetha was shattered and she had to in the eleventh hour look for an alternative. Latha who is very deft with her hands, saved the day and thus the evening went off without any wardrobe malfunction. I really wish that they would send the dress back, for then I could go and meet the designer. Although I have met him twice, I never had a conversation, for he may have thought me not worthy of his time. This would definitely be my chance to pin him down.
Preetha’s senior Prom is fast approaching; however she is dead sure about not ordering another outfit. The prêt a porter dresses though not personal are surely dependable. In the meantime I see pictures of the designer regularly in the papers and the latest one was of his birthday bash were he along with his famous clientele were posing in Victorian/Tudorian outfits. They looked ridiculous and I had a hearty laugh recollecting the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes.
PS. The number will be retained in order for me to have the last word.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Phenomenon
As an Indian I could as well have committed hara-kiri than make the statement that I am about to make. But then each human being is entitled to his or her say and thus I continue to make my statement, which is that “I am not a fan of Sachin Tendulkar.” You can for instance not be a fan of so many things which are patriotic and yet go scot free but to not to be a fan of Sachin and still be a true Indian may be something unheard off or practically impossible. That is the sweep this 36 year old Indian cricketer has on the 1.1 billion cricket crazy Indians living in India and on most of the diaspora spread all over the world. This phenomenal rise of a middle class Mumbaiiker is unmatched and beyond any comparison.
India has been a cricketing nation for over a hundred years and the country has in the due course produced astounding batsmen and bowlers. However there have been limits to their reach and accordingly to their popularity. Sachin Tendulkar’s rise in the world of cricket can be compared to mythological phoenix which soars high and lives for over 1000 years. To hold centre stage in the competitive world of today’s cricket for 20 years is no mean task. The form in which he is now definitely ensures many more years of mesmerizing cricket. I am not here to write about the records created by Sachin, for he has broken all the previous records held by various batsmen in the different cricketing countries and is now the holder of all records put together. Ask a ten year boy in India as to how many centuries Sachin has scored in tests and pat would come the reply. Or ask another 10 year old of his ODI centuries and without batting an eyelid, they are out with the answer.
The youth of today are in so much of awe of the one and only Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, who they have seen right from their infancy to their adulthood. I am sure his must be one of the faces they would even associate with the television. Some of his present day team mates come from this generation and from what we hear, he shares an excellent rapport with them. It is said that he is a TEAM MATE. He has won all the cricketing awards many times over and as far as his career goes there is only so much more he can achieve. The back breaking T-20 format would definitely be a bit hard on him; however there is nothing to stop this cricketer from pursuing excellence. The fire that started burning very early in his life continues to do so and I wont be wrong if I say that that fire is at its brightest now. Does that mean we will have Sachin playing for another twenty years? Much as many big names like Lata Mangeshkar and Amitabh Bachan would want that to happen, the truth is that it will not be so for like in all things in life, changes are inevitable.
I too must have heard the name Sachin Tendulkar during the year 1988 when two 15 year old school friends took the cricketing world by storm with their histrionic performance of scoring a mammoth unbeaten 664 run partnership. The other friend was Vinod Kambli who also wore the India cap. I did not get to watch his first series in Pakistan nor his second one in New Zealand. Both these series as far as the player went, were nothing great to write home about, however the third series he played was in England in the year 1990 and as luck would have it, I was there that summer holidaying with my sister and brother in law and thus got to watch most of the matches on television. What made the experience worthwhile was the fact that my brother in law is an ace cricketer. There was this one point in his life when he was contemplating between a career in medicine and cricket. I don’t know if cricket’s loss turned out to be the medical world’s gain; however what I can say is that he is a great doctor and has been judged as the best teacher in MUSC, US for a record number of times. Now coming back to the game of cricket at Old Trafford in August 1990 - the two of us would watch it together; I had to remain a mute spectator, for he did not like any distraction while watching. However during the breaks, he made sure he explained the nuances to me. I grabbed in a lot from him during the few summers I spent with them in the UK. He was keen on watching Sachin, for he too was seeing him in action for the first time. Another player whom he was interested in was Anil Kumble. Two reasons for the interest were, one the fact that he was a spinner (which my brother in law too was) and second he came from the state of Karnataka (my brother in law’s home state)
Thus that summer via the small screen I imbibed a lot of cricket, I also learnt the social ethics of the crowd, the enthusiasm of the Indian supporters, and so on and so forth. Although the match ended in a draw, the feather in the cap was the Man of the Match being awarded to Sachin Tendulkar. This did not come as a surprise for he had scored a half and full century and had also taken a couple of catches. It was indeed a moment of pride for us Indians to see the cherubic teenager come over and collect his award. What left us feeling sad was the fact that he was too young for the big bottle of Champagne that went with the award. I am sure he must received hundreds of awards later, but what makes me happy is that fact that I witnessed live his first test century and clapped till my palms pained when he received his first International Award.
Among the many things he holds precious which I am sure will include his various cricketing memorabilia, the innumerable awards, the raciest cars that are his passion, the thirteen one rupee coins given to him by his mentor Ramakant Achrekar, and the heartfelt good wishes of his country men, I wonder whether that unopened bottle of “Bubbly’ finds a place.
God Bless this great man, God Bless his parents who brought him to this world and God bless all those who were instrumental for the cricketing world to have a Sachin Tendulkar. One thing I hope I have made myself clear, by not being his fan, I was not trying to say that he is not good enough. I don’t care for the fan concept and to me unnecessary adulation only results in a person’s downfall.
I wonder how much longer we will have to wait before a similar phenomenon to the one that occurred on 24th April 1973 will recur.
India has been a cricketing nation for over a hundred years and the country has in the due course produced astounding batsmen and bowlers. However there have been limits to their reach and accordingly to their popularity. Sachin Tendulkar’s rise in the world of cricket can be compared to mythological phoenix which soars high and lives for over 1000 years. To hold centre stage in the competitive world of today’s cricket for 20 years is no mean task. The form in which he is now definitely ensures many more years of mesmerizing cricket. I am not here to write about the records created by Sachin, for he has broken all the previous records held by various batsmen in the different cricketing countries and is now the holder of all records put together. Ask a ten year boy in India as to how many centuries Sachin has scored in tests and pat would come the reply. Or ask another 10 year old of his ODI centuries and without batting an eyelid, they are out with the answer.
The youth of today are in so much of awe of the one and only Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, who they have seen right from their infancy to their adulthood. I am sure his must be one of the faces they would even associate with the television. Some of his present day team mates come from this generation and from what we hear, he shares an excellent rapport with them. It is said that he is a TEAM MATE. He has won all the cricketing awards many times over and as far as his career goes there is only so much more he can achieve. The back breaking T-20 format would definitely be a bit hard on him; however there is nothing to stop this cricketer from pursuing excellence. The fire that started burning very early in his life continues to do so and I wont be wrong if I say that that fire is at its brightest now. Does that mean we will have Sachin playing for another twenty years? Much as many big names like Lata Mangeshkar and Amitabh Bachan would want that to happen, the truth is that it will not be so for like in all things in life, changes are inevitable.
I too must have heard the name Sachin Tendulkar during the year 1988 when two 15 year old school friends took the cricketing world by storm with their histrionic performance of scoring a mammoth unbeaten 664 run partnership. The other friend was Vinod Kambli who also wore the India cap. I did not get to watch his first series in Pakistan nor his second one in New Zealand. Both these series as far as the player went, were nothing great to write home about, however the third series he played was in England in the year 1990 and as luck would have it, I was there that summer holidaying with my sister and brother in law and thus got to watch most of the matches on television. What made the experience worthwhile was the fact that my brother in law is an ace cricketer. There was this one point in his life when he was contemplating between a career in medicine and cricket. I don’t know if cricket’s loss turned out to be the medical world’s gain; however what I can say is that he is a great doctor and has been judged as the best teacher in MUSC, US for a record number of times. Now coming back to the game of cricket at Old Trafford in August 1990 - the two of us would watch it together; I had to remain a mute spectator, for he did not like any distraction while watching. However during the breaks, he made sure he explained the nuances to me. I grabbed in a lot from him during the few summers I spent with them in the UK. He was keen on watching Sachin, for he too was seeing him in action for the first time. Another player whom he was interested in was Anil Kumble. Two reasons for the interest were, one the fact that he was a spinner (which my brother in law too was) and second he came from the state of Karnataka (my brother in law’s home state)
Thus that summer via the small screen I imbibed a lot of cricket, I also learnt the social ethics of the crowd, the enthusiasm of the Indian supporters, and so on and so forth. Although the match ended in a draw, the feather in the cap was the Man of the Match being awarded to Sachin Tendulkar. This did not come as a surprise for he had scored a half and full century and had also taken a couple of catches. It was indeed a moment of pride for us Indians to see the cherubic teenager come over and collect his award. What left us feeling sad was the fact that he was too young for the big bottle of Champagne that went with the award. I am sure he must received hundreds of awards later, but what makes me happy is that fact that I witnessed live his first test century and clapped till my palms pained when he received his first International Award.
Among the many things he holds precious which I am sure will include his various cricketing memorabilia, the innumerable awards, the raciest cars that are his passion, the thirteen one rupee coins given to him by his mentor Ramakant Achrekar, and the heartfelt good wishes of his country men, I wonder whether that unopened bottle of “Bubbly’ finds a place.
God Bless this great man, God Bless his parents who brought him to this world and God bless all those who were instrumental for the cricketing world to have a Sachin Tendulkar. One thing I hope I have made myself clear, by not being his fan, I was not trying to say that he is not good enough. I don’t care for the fan concept and to me unnecessary adulation only results in a person’s downfall.
I wonder how much longer we will have to wait before a similar phenomenon to the one that occurred on 24th April 1973 will recur.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
A Joyful Duty
I am tired. Yes, I am tired; tired of doing all the things I enjoy doing. This statement in itself seems so contradictory and almost impossible. People may want to know as to what I did that has made me so tired. Well, I did the following, I chatted up with innumerable number of people, went around the city doing things I love to do, dressed far too many times in whatever finery I possess and finally dined and feasted to my heart’s content. Perfectly pleasant tasks which I enjoy utmost and hence should never ever complain. However when they come in overdose, it definitely makes one tired. The reason for this overdose which just concluded last night was the wedding of my good friend’s daughter. My involvement began right from the word go which was about 15 months ago and lasted till the very last dinner connected with the marriage which happened last night. I know for sure the celebration as far as this wedding goes is over for the boy and girl are now air borne and by the time they come back, they will no more be the newly married couple.
I have heard of the Big Indian Weddings; however t his was the first time that I was closely connected to one. Much as we claim to be modern and our generation even boasts of doing away with stereotyping, one thing that has not changed is the urge of the parents to see their little girls married. The marriage age may have pushed upwards from the 18-20 years bracket to the 23-25 year bracket, but nevertheless it is very much there and the concept is as strong as what it was from time immemorial. I have seen mothers whose daughters have crossed the imaginary 25 years deadline remain remorse and depressed. I don’t blame them a wee bit for I am sure I would be in the same boat when my time comes. Thus my friend had started the spade work a couple of years ago and by God’s grace she could find the suitable boy for her daughter before the imaginary deadline loomed large. It must be said that her daughter who was well placed in a career outside India was willing to relocate when made to understand the importance of matrimony. There is nothing that the children of today are unaware off and the fact that she did lend an ear to her parents advise in itself calls for a celebration. It could also be that the boy had swept her off her feet and thus made her want to spend the rest of her life with him. I doubt very much as to any sweeping happening, for one thing that I have realized about modern day marriages is that there is no room for unnecessary ROMANCE. There may be plenty of courtship, but as far as romance and chivalry goes, it takes a big backseat.” He came, he saw and he conquered” kind of marriages seem to totally be a thing of the past. Girls these days are so practical and know exactly how they want their lives to be. So if they agree for a marriage, they make sure that at least 75% of what they have in mind is met in the groom.
Thus the wedding was fixed and the planning began. My friend is a great planner and an even greater executor. Since she had a 15 month period to go about her meticulous execution, I must say that she made full use of the time and as a result did a wonderful job of it. The first thing on her itinerary was to fix the marriage hall, for if getting a groom is a difficult proposition, getting a good wedding hall in Chennai is something even more difficult. With the hall in hand she began going around looking for caterers, the back drop, the marriage card, the never ending guest list and so many nitty gritty things of which I was not aware. Slowly the silver was purchased and then the gold and then the give away saris and other mementos to go with the wedding card. Trips were made to “TOWN’ (areas in and around Parry’s Corner is still referred thus) to procure things in bulk. I was amazed at all the happenings for I had not witnessed anything thus in close quarter. In my community weddings are a simple 10 minute affair which does not call for anything so elaborate. The only weddings I was involved were that of my sisters and since my parents were still in the midst of things, they took care of all the arrangements. My job was to take part in the shopping which was nominal and the invitation distribution. Thus I would keep asking her as to why she was in a hurry to get so many things done and she would say, well you don’t know as to how much of a rush there would be at the last minute.
How true her words turned out to be. Prior to the wedding there were four functions (in total six) and then the big wedding which was attended by about 1800 people. Venues had to be decided for the smaller functions and caterers had to be arranged, invitations had to be distributed and so on and so forth. My physical presence in all these activities were minimal however I was kept in the know how during our daily phone calls. Most of you may not be aware that my friend and I go back a long way. We have known each other for more than four decades. We meet at least once a week and talk to each other for a minimum period of thirty minutes daily. I was indeed proud of my friend when on the day before the first function when the silver and other things had to kept in the respective trunks, she had them all ready. She had also designated specific jobs to the close circle of relatives and friends and thus had covered all avenues. There was absolutely no confusion on the day of the marriage; everybody went about the work they were entrusted with. The whole ceremony went off so beautifully and I really wonder even if the presence of a much hyped wedding planner would have brought about so much of efficiency.
Now I realize the meaning of the age old saying which goes thus, “Try building a house, try getting your daughter married”. I have in a decent manner finished the first task. I think age was with me for it happened 27 years ago. It almost seems like child’s play when compared to the second one. I truly wonder as to how I will go about orchestrating so many people and before things reach that stage, I wonder as to how I will convince my little one of the importance of matrimony or of having found the perfect match. I still have at least a decade to go and in the meantime let me get tutored from my friend a second time around for she is planning to have her son’s marriage in a year’s time.
I will leave her in peace for a couple of days for I am certain that she needs that rest to pull herself together for a repeat performance.
I have heard of the Big Indian Weddings; however t his was the first time that I was closely connected to one. Much as we claim to be modern and our generation even boasts of doing away with stereotyping, one thing that has not changed is the urge of the parents to see their little girls married. The marriage age may have pushed upwards from the 18-20 years bracket to the 23-25 year bracket, but nevertheless it is very much there and the concept is as strong as what it was from time immemorial. I have seen mothers whose daughters have crossed the imaginary 25 years deadline remain remorse and depressed. I don’t blame them a wee bit for I am sure I would be in the same boat when my time comes. Thus my friend had started the spade work a couple of years ago and by God’s grace she could find the suitable boy for her daughter before the imaginary deadline loomed large. It must be said that her daughter who was well placed in a career outside India was willing to relocate when made to understand the importance of matrimony. There is nothing that the children of today are unaware off and the fact that she did lend an ear to her parents advise in itself calls for a celebration. It could also be that the boy had swept her off her feet and thus made her want to spend the rest of her life with him. I doubt very much as to any sweeping happening, for one thing that I have realized about modern day marriages is that there is no room for unnecessary ROMANCE. There may be plenty of courtship, but as far as romance and chivalry goes, it takes a big backseat.” He came, he saw and he conquered” kind of marriages seem to totally be a thing of the past. Girls these days are so practical and know exactly how they want their lives to be. So if they agree for a marriage, they make sure that at least 75% of what they have in mind is met in the groom.
Thus the wedding was fixed and the planning began. My friend is a great planner and an even greater executor. Since she had a 15 month period to go about her meticulous execution, I must say that she made full use of the time and as a result did a wonderful job of it. The first thing on her itinerary was to fix the marriage hall, for if getting a groom is a difficult proposition, getting a good wedding hall in Chennai is something even more difficult. With the hall in hand she began going around looking for caterers, the back drop, the marriage card, the never ending guest list and so many nitty gritty things of which I was not aware. Slowly the silver was purchased and then the gold and then the give away saris and other mementos to go with the wedding card. Trips were made to “TOWN’ (areas in and around Parry’s Corner is still referred thus) to procure things in bulk. I was amazed at all the happenings for I had not witnessed anything thus in close quarter. In my community weddings are a simple 10 minute affair which does not call for anything so elaborate. The only weddings I was involved were that of my sisters and since my parents were still in the midst of things, they took care of all the arrangements. My job was to take part in the shopping which was nominal and the invitation distribution. Thus I would keep asking her as to why she was in a hurry to get so many things done and she would say, well you don’t know as to how much of a rush there would be at the last minute.
How true her words turned out to be. Prior to the wedding there were four functions (in total six) and then the big wedding which was attended by about 1800 people. Venues had to be decided for the smaller functions and caterers had to be arranged, invitations had to be distributed and so on and so forth. My physical presence in all these activities were minimal however I was kept in the know how during our daily phone calls. Most of you may not be aware that my friend and I go back a long way. We have known each other for more than four decades. We meet at least once a week and talk to each other for a minimum period of thirty minutes daily. I was indeed proud of my friend when on the day before the first function when the silver and other things had to kept in the respective trunks, she had them all ready. She had also designated specific jobs to the close circle of relatives and friends and thus had covered all avenues. There was absolutely no confusion on the day of the marriage; everybody went about the work they were entrusted with. The whole ceremony went off so beautifully and I really wonder even if the presence of a much hyped wedding planner would have brought about so much of efficiency.
Now I realize the meaning of the age old saying which goes thus, “Try building a house, try getting your daughter married”. I have in a decent manner finished the first task. I think age was with me for it happened 27 years ago. It almost seems like child’s play when compared to the second one. I truly wonder as to how I will go about orchestrating so many people and before things reach that stage, I wonder as to how I will convince my little one of the importance of matrimony or of having found the perfect match. I still have at least a decade to go and in the meantime let me get tutored from my friend a second time around for she is planning to have her son’s marriage in a year’s time.
I will leave her in peace for a couple of days for I am certain that she needs that rest to pull herself together for a repeat performance.
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