MY IGNORANCE

This was during my last year’s visit to Agra and Mathura. It was quiet late in the evening when we reached Mathura after the Agra visit. There was an Englishman who was travelling with us and he had got chatty with my kids and so he stuck with us during the entire Mathura visit as we all were translating to him in English what the guide was telling us in Hindi.

First, we visited the place where Lord Krishna was supposed to have been born, yes, the very jail. (I am saying ‘supposed to’ because the place looked quiet modern, with ASI having restored it over the years.) Being the holiday season, the crowd was huge and as we pushed through (it was claustrophobic), this Englishman showed us a symbol on the wall and asked its meaning.  I went closer to have a look at the symbol, which was a “swastika” and I was stumped!!! Am familiar with the symbol, but its meaning?? Boy! Was I embarrassed and ashamed?

It is humanly not possible for a person to know everything but, this……we Hindus grow up with these symbols, i.e., the OM, SHRI, and SWASTIK. As toddlers we are first taught to write these symbols in the “Akasharabhaysa” ceremony that initiates us to the world of formal education. As kids, we are taught to use these symbols before writing anything in our books, as they are auspicious. These symbols can be seen on invitation cards and the Priest makes a swastika in vermilion before starting a religious ceremony, pooja or a ritual. These symbols are such an integral part of our customs and rituals and I did not know the meaning of this.

The old is giving way for the new and we are all evolving and changing in terms of beliefs and faiths. Our customs are evolving too….we are discarding what we no longer believe or need. But, we are not able to impart cultural and religious values to our kids as our parents did to us. I do feel that the basic knowledge of these should be imparted to our future generations as a part of our legacy as they are still relevant and play a pivotal role in our lives

FOR YOUR INFORMATION: - (for people like me who don’t know the meaning of swastika)

The word swastika came from the Sanskrit word svastika, meaning any lucky or auspicious object, and in particular a mark made on persons and things to denote good luck. It is composed of su- meaning "good, well" and asti "to be" svasti thus means "well-being." The suffix -ka either forms a diminutive or intensifies the verbal meaning, and svastika might thus be translated literally as "that which is associated with well-being," corresponding to "lucky charm" or "thing that is auspicious.( source- Wikipedia).

TO EACH HIS OWN

Recently, when in Bangalore, I was making chappatis for dinner when my dad came into the kitchen to see how I made them. He wanted to learn to make chappatis and I was like teaching him probably for the 10^th time??? Actually he has no aptitude for cooking. Whenever I go home I see some burnt vessels. All he can manage is to make strongest coffee and cook rice and potatoes in the pressure cooker. And, so, I asked him, why this interest again? So he says….”Swamiji has told me that if I have to do some spiritual sadana, then I have to cook myself…you know satvik food.”  “Pappa, you know you can’t, and why go to all the trouble when you are getting your meals from the mess.”(Cannot phantom why they call it a ‘mess’, because of the messy state in which the food is prepared?) Dad- “ Swamiji  is of the opinion that even though the ‘mess’ is run by the Brahmins, they are doing it for commercial purpose and the cooks may not be Brahmins….you can’t be sure. So, it is better if I cook for myself.” I was mildly amused and bemused to. “Pappa, you are discriminating between human beings, where is the sadana there….how does it matter to you who cooks or not, how will it affect your sadana?” I asked. You don’t understand was all he said. Didn’t I? Well, I didn’t want to.

What we wear, what we eat; our social standing (if any), our caste or nationality; how does all this influence our quest for spirituality? God never laid out any rules, it was man who did.

Spirituality can refer to an ultimate or an alleged immaterial reality; an inner path enabling a person to discover the essence of their being; or the “deepest values and meanings by which people live.” Spiritual practices, including meditation, prayer and contemplation, are intended to develop an individual's inner life; such practices are alleged to lead to an experience of connectedness with a larger reality, yielding a more comprehensive self; with other individuals or the human community; with nature or the cosmos; or with the divine realm. For some, spirituality is experienced as a source of inspiration or orientation in life. (Source: Wikipedia)

My friend in Bangalore doesn’t have a place of worship or photos or idols of any deity in her house though she is a Brahmin. But, that doesn’t mean she is an atheist. Her parents are orthodox and in-laws even more; they haven’t forced her to follow any customs nor has she allowed them to force her. To believe in God, one doesn’t have to do ‘pooja’ everyday, recite shlokas or Vedas or follow any rituals for that matter. It is the belief and it is personal. And, she is fine the way she is. People respect her for what she is.

As I am currently a Mumbaite, let me use an example from this city. The heir to the Birla Empire, a fashion icon, a Page 3 regular, Socialite, fitness freak- Yash Birla is a very spiritual person. He is a celebrity and partying is what he likes. Yet, he is into meditation and spiritualism big time. In spite of his busy schedule he does find time for his sadana…so, do we have a yardstick to measure peoples spiritual quotient?

With all due respect to the Swamiji who is (mis)guiding my dad, I would like to ask him, if attaining spiritual bliss was only his goal then he wouldn’t be adorning the ‘peeta’ which is used as a front to serve humanity. (Well, not the Nityananda way!) If that was the case then he would have been doing his sadana in some forest or somewhere in mountains. I am sure the Swamiji and my dad will admonish me for saying this.

 Anyway, coming back to my dad and making rotis…I told him that cooking was also a sadana, the more you practice, the more perfect you become. So, keep practicing.

AFTER THOUGHT: Siddharta ate meat even after he attained ‘nirvana’, didn’t he become the BUDDHA?

RADHA MAUSI

She is petite, bow legged yet strong. An illiterate, blind in one eye with a heart of gold. She is my masseur.

We women are plagued by our own hormones from the time of puberty. Skin pigmentation, bulging waist, unwanted facial hair, cellulites to name a few. The adage ‘Beauty is skin deep” wasn’t made just like that. If not, then the beauty and cosmetic industry would not have been thriving in our country. We have specialists in every field conceivable – under eye pouch specialist, laugh line specialist, T-zone specialists!! I want to relate an incident that happened some years back. I was in a beauty parlor in Bangalore. This lady walked in…she was a labourer. She said she wanted to do something for her eyebrows as everyone does. And the beautician said that it would cost her 20 bucks, which the lady promptly gave it to her. Halfway through the procedure, the lady fainted! After tiding through the initial shock, she was revived. Asked if she had eaten anything, she said she had saved the money to get her eyebrows done! Yeah, beauty is such a big business.

Not everyone can afford to go to the Spas, Salons or beauty Parlors. When I migrated to Mumbai, I found out that the ‘massagewali bais’ were available dime-a-dozen. No wonder Mumbai is glamour personified. I had tried massages in various Ayurvedic centers in resorts and clubs but they have always left a bitter taste. So, I hired a personal masseur. And Radha mausi came into my life quite unexpectedly this January when an acquaintance mentioned about her to me.

I became a fan of her massaging skill from the start. She is a mid-wife too and her knowledge about woman’s body can put a gynecologist to shame. She can identity which muscle or which nerve is giving me trouble. When she is working on the troubled nerve, I have to literally bite into the pillow from yelling out loud. Yet, there is no residual pain afterwards. What she actually does is like a lymphatic draining, which detoxifies the body. She is solely responsible for eradicating my cellulites….that means a lot to a woman. I was so elated that I went out and bought a couple of shorts to wear. She is very practical too. She says-“We used to eat good food and drink clean water in our villages…that’s why we are still healthy. But, when you are getting everything which is adulterated, how can you people be healthy?” There are a few home remedies she uses for getting rid of ‘vaath’, which are ingenious. She sometimes uses some English words while speaking which amuses me….how certain English words have replaced our native dialect!

Once, I met her at the local market and she couldn’t recognize me. Next, when we met she said,-“Didi, I was not able to recognize you.” I said, - “Lady, I was dressed!” She laughed till she had tears in her eyes and said,-“No Didi, aapko nazar lagegi.” Today, she has grown from being just a masseur to my well wisher, my beautician, my dietician, sometimes my physician, a cook (She taught me to make bajra rotis, the gamti style) and a motherly figure. Everyone calls her ‘mausi’, but I call her ‘maa ji’….a truly awe inspiring woman.

THE SHOW THAT WASN'T.........

“When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” – Paulo Coelho – The Alchemist.

For a long time now I have wanted to participate in the game show, KBC. I never missed answering the questions correctly that were asked on TV. No matter how many questions I answered, I never got the ‘call’. There are always far too many people contesting and it is a matter of chance and luck. Well, Friends, a word of caution or advice; when you want something from the Universe, BE SPECIFIC, because the Universe has a strange sense of humour…..it mocks you.

Yesterday morning I received a call from my friend, Mangala, that there is going to be a shoot of some sort and the Kannada Cine Star, Ramesh Aravind was coming for that. I had no clue as to what it was until I reached the studio. It was the ‘mock shoot’ of the kannada version of KBC- “YAARU ELLI (here) KOTIYADHIPATI?” – hosted by Ramesh himself.

We filled out a form, giving basic information about ourselves so that it will be easy for the ‘host’ to interact with us during the show. This was a practice session for Mr. Ramesh, we were the dummies! Even the lone camera was focused on him.

I was the second contestant. The first to go was Ms.Bhavani. She went up to the 13^th question, faltered and won Rs.3, 20,000/-. Only that there was no real money. Is number 13 really an unlucky one? I was about to find out. I too went up to the 13^th question without much effort. Then the question-

“According to Kalidasa, who was the director of dance-drama, Urvashi?” The options were-

A) Saraswathi

B) Narada

C) Bharata

D) Nataraja.

My common sense told me that it has to Nataraja, as he is the God of ‘Dance’. I was really hoping that Lord Nataraj will take me to the next level, and he did take me to the next level….but not in the direction I hoped. I fell three levels…to Rs.3, 20,000/-. Well, as I did not have anything to lose or gain, it did not matter. I took a chance. My common sense defied logic!

Mr. Siddharta Basu, the Creative Head of KBC, was also present. I asked him – “Is this the short cut to the actual game show?” He said, “Well mam, the phone lines will be opening shortly, you can try your luck.” Yes, boss! There are no short cuts in life.

Well, going back to fate and destiny, I never intended to meet either Mr. Ramesh or Mr. Siddharta Basu. I believe it is these unexpected encounters and moments that enrich and make our life special. Bless Mangala…She was the catalyst.

THE TAJ SOJOURN-PART II

I talked to one of the Crew member and my hubby’s friend who was from the UK.  He was asking me, - “Enjoying your stay here?” I said – “It has been Ok.” “This hotel is just Ok, you know. What do you say?” ,he asked me. “Yeah, I expected more”, was my reply. Here was this guy, who has travelled around most parts of the world and stayed in various luxury hotels and still feels that The Taj Mahal Palace Hotel is just OK! Here, I am, ‘zero’ experience in travelling around the world or staying at 5 star hotels and yet I felt the same! So, one should not have necessarily had the same experiences to feel something. I am not wrong. Cool.

So, how did I land up at the Taj again, when my first experience was not very impressive? Well, my hubby made me an offer too good to pass. Before you all get any ideas about what it might have been….let me assure you, it wasn’t anything naughty. But, a guided tour of the hotel including the ‘Heritage’ part of it, organized by the hotel management itself, an offer too good to refuse. So, we packed our bags for an overnight stay and arrived at the hotel.

The tour started from near the swimming pool, which originally was the entrance of the hotel when it was built between the years 1900 and 1903 AD. Most of this information (which I knew from my previous visit) is available on the TV in each of the rooms- the documentary about the Taj is being continuously played in one of the channels.

Next, we walked through the ‘old’ reception area and the lobby that was. There is this “Grand Staircase” from where all the dignitaries staying at the Taj have walked down- customary-again. The ‘Palace Lounge’ is in the ground floor and so are the restaurants serving Indian, Chinese and the Japanese cuisines. Grand. The first elevator of Bombay, to have been imported from Germany is still in use in this hotel.

The first level consists of The Banquet Hall and other conference rooms. We could not see the Banquet Hall as a Big Fat Indian Wedding was underway there. We couldn’t see the ‘Sea' Lounge (sea view) as it was taken over by the guests attending the wedding. We couldn’t see the other conference rooms and halls as all of them were booked for various meetings and conferences. All we were shown was a couple of long corridors and the ‘Grand Staircase”! Come on, give me a break! Is this a tour??? I fell for this hook, line and sinker!

We were back in the new lobby, renovated after 26/11. The guide showed us an art work done on the tile of the floor- Pietra dura, an ancient Mughal art where real Pearls and precious stones are embedded. And they have only four of these in the four corners of the sitting area of the lobby! The tour ended near a memorial built for those dignitaries and the staff died during the attack on 26/11. This foreigner who was with us for the tour asked the guide as to how many of the staff had died in the attacks? She was like- “Maybe around 30 to 35.” She was not sure. I am glad it was over.

The ground floor of the hotel has many shops of International brands- Louis Vitton, Mont Blanc, Dior. My point is – Why would people from abroad come here to buy the brands which is already available in their country and probably at prices lower than these? I haven’t seen many Indians buying anything there either.

                                                       THE GRAND STAIRCASE

                                                            THE CENTRAL DOME

 M.F. HUSSAIN'S PAINTING BEHIND THE RECEPTION DESK

Jasmine, the Production Manager of the IMG Media is an Australian and I met her a fortnight back during my first visit, and she was laden with shopping bags. She had shopped off the streets of Colaba. We met again this time. I asked her if she would join us for breakfast. No, she said, she was off to shopping. “Aren’t you done yet?” I asked. “I will never have enough of this shopping experience”, she replied. Hotel management guys, take a hint.

Post dinner, we walked around the streets of Colaba. I can now well understand why South Bombaites are proud of living here. Mornings are full of people, traffic and mayhem here. Evenings the quite opposite. Minimal traffic, few people, wide roads with wider footpaths, cool sea breeze paved with old Victorian buildings. A befitting end to the day. Next day we bid adieu to the Taj, more disappointed than before.

HOME BOUND!

Welcome showers! Rains have become synonymous with my arrival in Bengaluru (Wish I could weave the same magic in Mumbai!) No one misses an opportunity to mention this when I talk to them. Does it mean that I and the rains are not welcome? Kidding! I am more than welcome.....I am home.

"Bugle Rock"....the historic botanical garden and landmark, which is the identity of "Basavanagudi"; is beckoning me. Post rains, the garden would be lush and breathing life and colour! Felt like jogging there. Most of my childhood was spent among the rocks and trees of Bugle Rock. Our adventures consisted of treks climbing atop the watch tower, and also on the huge rocks...the rocks seemed huge because we were tiny. There was this particular steep rock from which we used to slide down till our bottoms hurt or sometimes till it was badly bruised! There used to be hundreds of multi-coloured and patterned butterflies which we used to catch, we would spend hours together there. Sadly, there are almost no butterflies there today. I remember, once while jumping from one rock to another, I sprained my ankle. My brother and friends had to half lift me and half drag me back home.... those carefree days!

But, the morning in question, the chill, the warmth and coziness of my bed was more tempting than the jog around the gardens of Bugle Rock. Well, I am on a holiday, aren't I? So, I can bend some rules I have made for myself.

Here, in Bangalore, I don't have a picturesque window in my living room nor the company of my winged friends to start of my day and to enjoy my ME moment. Armed with my cuppa, I stand on the threshold of the main door and just watch. I can hear the "Venkateshwara suprabatham" being played somewhere. The neighbor Aunty is performing the morning 'Tulasi' pooja; again there is another Aunty who is cleaning the front yard of her house and putting rangoli there. Somewhere else, I can hear the bells ringing indicating the morning pooja is concluding, the vegetable vendors, the flower sellers..........familiarity, customs and roots! HOME!

Next day onwards, I did muster up enough strength to leave behind the comfy of my bed to see the beauty of the nature. The mist filled mornings, the spacious, wide and deserted streets. Sunrays filtering through the trees....the smell of wet grass, the smell of wet earth...gives me goose bumps. Even with all the developmental work that’s happening with the roads, traffic woes…etc., I never seem to grow out of this place. Maybe because I don’t stay here.

Recently, I read an article of Shobha De’s where she had mentioned the lecherous attitude of men in Delhi. I bet she has not encountered the men in Namma Bengaluru, who are no less lecherous than their Delhi counterparts! Well, the less said the better.

The only thing I hate here is the attitude of the rickshaw drivers. One will be lucky enough to get a ride if the destination coincides with the direction in which they are travelling. If it’s raining, it means fleecing time for them. Always trying to make money the easy way.

Next is the time I wait for- a time to bond with friends! Meeting them has become a ritual to my visits. I don’t need to go to a spa to rejuvenate, all I need is time out with my buddies and I am rejuvenated! Met some, then talked to some…..had a whale of a time.

Ten days is too short a time to spend at home.....and the heart weighs a ton when you have to say goodbye to your loved ones.

"It is not the goodbye that hurts, but the flashback that follows." The memories will linger with me for some more time.