Monday 14 October 2019

The power of 'nna'


I hail from a rather conservative Tambrahm family. As per our culture, we address our husband as ‘Nna', short for anna, or brother. I understand the confusion this causes in the minds of the readers. I strongly urge you to get over it. We may get a logical explanation to this from some kind and informed soul sooner than later.

Our parents bring us up with great emphasis on value and accordingly my father has always told me that which ever family I get to be a part of, I must contribute to its well being and blend with their way of life, while preserving my values. When I got married, I was faced with what can be described as Dharmsankat.

It all began with me having to address my husband for the first time in public and I had to abide by traditional practices. I called my husband ‘Nna' and he was surprised. As with most newly married men, he lacked common sense and tact. He asked me why I called him ‘Nna' suddenly, while in the past couple of months that we had been engaged I had called him by name.

There was pin drop silence!

I stood before the elders of both the families, immeasurably guilty. In situations such as these, where I had trespassed traditional practices in the past, I had pleaded innocence and that had worked. I decided to try the same trick this time around too. I told my husband that ‘Nna' is used to address husband and it is only post marriage I could use it. Since I did not know how to call him before that I had used his name. I managed to maintain innocence in my tone and facial expression that seemed rather natural.

I patted myself for the wonderful performance as the elders nodded in agreement. My father finally spoke. He bragged about how his family called each other strictly by relationship and never by name. As with most tambrahm men, they would end every conversation with a hidden attack on their wife's family. In keeping with this glorious tradition, my father further added that even my mother's side would not address elders by name, though they were generally unaware of the exact name given to each relationship!

Through the corner of my eye I saw my mother taking a mental note of the statement for future reference. Some one from my husband's side spoke next. They were not particularly conservative and hence opined that while I should be allowed to address my husband the way I wanted to when we were alone, I should stick to the traditional ‘Nna' in public.

My father tried objecting to this, but realized that he was outnumbered. My mother chose to remain neutral, her way of taking revenge on my father. I chose to agree with my in-laws, quoting my father's advice on blending with the tradition of the house that we are married into.

It was my husband's turn to speak. He was a natural revolt, often times he would revolt against his own ideas! He declared that I should address him by his name and nothing else. My father looked at me and said that if he heard me call him by name, he would stop talking to me. My husband countered my father's attack. He looked at me firmly and said I was free to choose between the two men.

I was left high and dry! I decided to think calmly. I needed my folks on either side to co-exist. I left the place, but not before uttering what I thought was a clincher. I looked at the gathering before me and said that all fights between daughters-in-law and mothers-in-law had their roots in male ego. So saying I moved away. Soon everyone left, the movie was over. They would have to wait for the next show!

Few hours later, I spotted my father and my husband seated comfortably in front of the television. The memories of the show down that had happened only a few hours earlier seemed to have temporarily vanished. They were discussing the country's economy, thee present day ruling party's inability at containing in-fighting within the party, and similar topics. My mother walked out of the kitchen, and my father immediately lowered the TV volume and made a fake attempt to get up. My mother told him to be seated and gave a cup of tea in his hands. My husband, being new to the game of being married asked my father why he had lowered the TV volume. And my father bit the bait! When your wife is around only her volume should be loud, he said, almost instantly regretting his statement.

He finished the remaining liquid from the glass in a single gulp and went into the kitchen. He had to make amends and that to him was priority number 1. He washed the glass and walked up to my mother. He could not spot a cloth to wipe the glass and tried cleaning it with my mother's hanging part of the pallu. She quickly pulled it away and handed him a towel. As he walked out, she called out to him, ‘Nna'. The tone betrayed her anger as she told him not to play the TV in high volume. It was time for her evening prayers. The TV went into mute mode for the next hour or so. My husband walked up to me and told me he wanted the volume on. This was my chance! I told him to settle my issue with my father as it would become difficult to talk to anyone in the house otherwise. He called my father to the other room and in my presence told my father that he should leave us alone. Before my father could object, he asked my father if he had permitted anyone else to dictate terms to him, especially when it came to issues between him and his wife. My father was clearly outwitted by a younger man, not much different from him.

Reluctantly my father let go. Satisfied at having established peace I left the room. My husband waited to ensure that I was out of ear shot before continuing. Owing to his loud voice I have never been out of earshot.  I heard him tell my father that he thought wisdom lies in allowing your wife to call you by your name, while retaining the freedom to watch TV in high volume, rather than claiming supremacy in the way she addressed you and submitting to her wishes in everything else. To this day my father is a devout disciple of my husband! 

23 years of being married, now a true marriage veteran, I have recently dedicated myself to the cause of re-establishing lost traditions.




Tuesday 18 June 2019

The pen that writes from the other end

Not always are survivors the heroes  as we comprehend
And it may take a pen that writes from the other end
To complete the oft heard popular tales with facts so shy
Though they may go unread, or worse, construed as a lie

Most of the wars fought in ancient India are attributed to the female protagonist of the stories. From Sita , whose desire for the magical deer to Paanchali's laughter in the palace, the reason for the wars has always been  ascribed to a woman. But scrape the surface and many an unexplained bone make their appearance.

As the bride of Arjuna – The mighty warrior
I assumed that life would have not a barrier
But my joys lasted only until we reached
The gates of the palace where Kunti unknowingly preached

Yudhistra, in the name of upholding his mother's words, chose to shatter the kshatriya dharma of winning the bride in a swayamvara. This perhaps was the breach of dharma that has never been spoken of! What was more blood curdling was the dictatorial manner in which he drew up a schedule for the five brothers to follow in sharing her.

Alas, no one can predict the ever changing future
And happiness is but a bubble waiting to rupture
Kunti's fervent pleas to spare the girl went unheard
The rest could only direct their prayers heavenward

Any non-compliance in the regard was punished with a 12 year exile! Yes, you read it right. Yudhistra started the culture of sending his brothers on exile, not Duryodhana, as we popularly believe. Aruna, as fate would have it(?)  was the first one to be exiled. It was during his exile that Arjuna learnt the Brahmastra, married Krishna's half-sister, Shubadra and earned the wrath of Urvashi.

Some facts lay burried within a protected cage
To protect a lone man's ego and his endeared image
Does the generation next dare to set them free
If you care to, then just place your ears on any old tree
Unravel the stories that the world is waiting to know
Humanity would liberate itself from morals so low
Do not sell the woman that you vowed to defend
A plea from the pen that writes from the other end!

Monday 10 June 2019

A Pushed Pawn Becomes Queen!

An erring king sans a mentor,
Has not the power to prevent his downfall
Every being has an unending need
For a course-corrector...


"இடிப்பாரை இல்லாத ஏமரா மன்னன்
கெடுப்பா ரிலானுங் கெடும்."

                                                                   - Thirukkural 448 
Image result for fallen king chess

Sunday 2 June 2019

The Branded Grave


There came them calling themselves
A new species – ‘The Human Beings’
They did seem to be more intelligent
Than any others that the world was seeing!

They created the huge machines
And made them do wonderful things
They built and destroyed at will
And gifted themselves with incredible wings!

Fighting bitterly with each other at times,
They grouped and re-grouped again and again
None outside knew what went on
And within their walls there was loss and gain!

Gradually, the groups created identities
That defined everything that they used
The group of people were called a class
"How should we call the inanimate?”they mused!

But they never had to think for long
Ideas flooded their bottomless world!
As identities grew, so did their pride
“Brands”, they declared, and flags were unfurled!

They named everything that they owned
Rating these names against countable numbers
Some were rated more, some suffered ill-fate
Hatred grew, men and material were burnt in embers!

Groups were called castes and class
While materials was classified into brands
“Pedigree”, they said was dearer than life
Measuring their ego based on dollars and rands!

Their craving for brands grew and grew
Each man wanted the best even in his grave
Wanting nothing less than a branded adieu
He yearned to be called the classy and the brave!

The rituals during life varied with class
And in death the rule altered  not in the least
Some called it ego, others called it pride
But followed it as much in their fast as in their feast!

Nothing that they used was left unbranded
Except when it came to their final end
Until one day some of them decided
To brand the graveyard, calling it a classy trend!

Saturday 25 May 2019

Agasthya – The power of perseverance


A gurgling sea still looked ferocious. It was a complete deluge. The earth shattered, followed by a huge wave that seemed insatiable. It swallowed the animate and inanimate alike, ruthless and powerful as it was!

A vain and powerful kingdom lay submerged, allowing the sea creatures to feast on the once-all powerful creatures. The tectonic plates had moved causing a huge earthquake that shook the abode of Lord Shiva. There was a huge gathering and people from all over the region had gathered to wish Shiva and Parvati on their wedding day. Mythology has it that since all Gods had gathered at one place causing the colossal upheaval.

“This way!” screamed a voice. Soon a huge crowd followed the voice. Dodging the fire balls that rolled towards it, the crowd valiantly moved ahead. Soon they reached a point where the sea had made major inroads, gulping the greed of men that hitherto thrived in the region.

How were they to cross the watery grave alive? The leader, a tiny-tall man stood firm, holding a pot-like vessel in one hand and a beaded chain in the other. He signaled the crowd to stay calm. Hours passed and slowly the water started to ebb away.

“Once we cross the water and go to the other side, there are plain fertile lands. We can halt there for a few days before deciding what to do next”, he said.        
“Are you sure that the land can take all of us? We should split, lest we burden the land more than it can handle”, a man from the crowd spoke.

“You may be right. We caused this huge loss to mother earth by crowding at the same place. We should learn from our earlier mistakes”, the leader spoke.

He called the man from the crowd and to lead the other faction. People were seen bidding tearful adieus to near and dear ones. Their paths split, forever and somehow, they all knew it, though the words that were spoken conveyed the contrary.
After a few days both factions realized that the split was inevitable as people joined both factions along their way to safer pastures. The first faction of the Velir clan was led by Agasthya, while the second was led by Kashyap. The first faction moved southwards, while the second moved northwards. The entire land form had changed, and the plains were no longer visible. Agasthya was surprised. The earth grew before his eyes and the crowd went into a frenzy.

“Run, the earth is going to swallow us too. Evil forces have joined hands”, shouted a few.
“Death is inevitable. Let us sit and meditate and think of Shiva and Parvati before our lives are taken away”, rued some.

Some refused to move ahead, while some other wanted to go back. Few others egged Agasthya to carry on with those willing to follow him. Take the able men to protect you.
A wise man stood up with support on both sides. “Take the women and children along with you. Let the able men follow. The rest of us will try to keep pace”, he said. The leader agreed and the crowd progressed further, led by Agasthya. His tenacity urged others to follow their persevering leader.
Every now and then he called out to the people, motivating them to follow. He addressed the ever-growing mountain to stop and allow them to progress. Days rolled by, months passed, the old and unfit perished, unable to withstand the hardships. After many months Agasthya reached the top of the Vindhyas.

The crowd that followed cheered him. “Vindham Adakinon, Vaazhga”, they shouted. The climb down was not difficult. By now they had seen many hardships and had moved far away from the initial trauma, though the loss weighed heavily on them. As hey descend, they assimilate the traditions of the local people and begin to thrive. Many interesting stories about the survivors and their lives unfurl to entertain eternity.

One among the many stories is that of Avvaiyar, a poet beyond compare, a guide par excellence and an advisor to Lords and rulers.

As Agasthya survived the arduous journey and appeared victorious atop Vindhyas, crowds on either side cheered him. Once he descended, the local chieftain, a fisherman, wished to give his daughter in marriage to Agasthya. Agasthya married her. Soon they had a son who they named, Perumsagara, meaning the vast sea. True to his name he was wise and sharp. He married the daughter of the local leader and Agasthya named him Bhagwan. The intellect and tenacity of Agasthya had spread far and wide. Meanwhile his wisdom, in the form of stories from the past kept his listeners in rapt attention. He had overcome the language barrier by formulating the language that was destined to unite people far and wide and would be spoken by the generation that followed. 

Many detractors mushroomed from time-to-time, but the power of Agasthya-founded Tamil still stands the test of time. So immensely uniting and emotionally exquisite was his formulation, that its popularity spread far and wide. Bhagwan grew up listening to his grandfather’s story. His penchant to find out the fate of the second faction made him set out on a journey northward. On route he met his wife-to-be, a girl who he named Aadi. Aadi gave birth to a girl child. Not wanting to subject the child to the unknown hardships that she and her husband were embarked on, she left the child in the care of a local learned man.

From her foster father, Avvaiyar learnt about her parent and grandparents and decided to unite people all over the region. 
Her skill at poetry and mastery over the language formulated by her great grandfather Agasthya, helped her achieve her cause.



Thursday 16 May 2019

Ode To The Ruler!


Measured in action
Transparent in dealings
Yielding to no faction
A ruler sans divisive feelings!

No foot in the mouth

Draws clear boundaries
Stretching between North and South
A ruler sans baseless worries

Learns at the edges

Connects every dot
Yearning for no badges
A ruler, not a bigot!

Bends not an inch

Remains equally to all
Tackling issues not cinch
A ruler, not a wax doll!



Saturday 4 May 2019

Touch - The Krishna Concept

I am not sure who Krishna was. But the stories associated with this name reflect the existence of a mature society that sought conceptual clarity. Heres one such story that appeared to be a good bed-time story for kids when I read it first. But it lingered on, revealing layers of a deeper philosophy. 

One day Arjuna walked up to Krishna after performing an act of what seemed like philanthropy to him.
"Krishna, do you agree that I am the greatest philanthropist in the world?"Krishna smiled but said nothing.
Arjuna persisted. What initially seemed like harmless bragging on the part of Arjuna, eventually grew into a war of words between the two. "Come to the empty ground behind the palace before sunrise tomorrow", Krishna ordered.




Arjuna reached the round, by now more out of curiosity than the initial emotion. He saw Krishna leading the way, with Karna trotting behind. When the three of them met Arjuna and Karna were equally surprised. Krishna silently walked ahead, signaling the twosome to follow him. They reached a spot and what lay ahead made Arjuna and Karna gasp. Two huge heaps of precious stones and gems and rare metal welcomed the unsuspecting warriors. 

Finally, Krishna spoke. "Before sunset distribute all of this wealth to needy people. Take one heap each", Krishna was not available to answer any queries! Arjuna realized, albeit a little late that Krishna was still on the previous day's topic. He soon started looking around and called every single person that looked famished and gave away a little portion of the heap. But as he dug into the heap, the heap started growing. Karna found a tree nearby and decided to rest a for while, while Arjuna was busy distributing the wealth. 

By noon Arjuna's little hill had grown to a mountain, while Karna's stood still. It was close to sunset and Arjuna wondered what Karna was going to do. After all, there was very little time left as the great ball of fire was sinking fast into the dusky sky. Karna woke up and walked lazily towards his heap. He looked around and saw two lame people walking towards them. Word had spread about the wealth distribution camp and people were still trickling in to take alms from the noble one that was distributing wealth generously. 

As the lame people approached them, Karna called out to one of them. The man limped towards Karna hesitantly.

"Do you see this heap?"Karna asked him pointing to his heap of wealth. "Yes, my Lord", the lame man said, folding his hands in reverence. "From now on this is yours!" Karna said with very little hesitation. Krishna appeared before the two at that very instant.

Ärjuna", began the Lord, "philanthropy does not mean distributing the wealth among the subjects. When you touch something, it becomes
yours. You gradually start associating with it, nurturing it and as a consequence, it begins to grow on you. When you do not touch something, it does not belong to you. Giving away what does not belong to you is quite simple as you just saw", concluded Krishna.

Karna was about to leave when Krishna continued, "On the contrary, when wealth is distributed wisely, through good governance, prosperity prevails. Each of us has a strength that will become our weakness when the rule of the game changes".

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