Ramayana Masam -2

"ആയുസ്സ് പോകുന്നതേതുമറിഞ്ഞീ ല  മായാസമുദ്രത്തിൽ  മുങ്ങിക്കിടക്കയാൽ "

Life is deeply immersed in the ocean of 'maya'. No one realises how the days are passing bye ...Raman tells Lakshmanan on one occassion in the Ramayanam. True. One month has gone just like a few hours. Another Karkadakom became history. Almost one year passed bye since I started a new job in the Gulf. How fast the time flew! The magic web of 'maya' made everything look hunky dory. Fly at 35000 feet several times, dollars ringing, and then abundance of time to do nothing..I do not know when will I realise that all were just maya!

This time too, we could complete reading the Holy Book by the end of the month. The interesting thing in the Kilippatu version of Ramayanam is that, there is no mention of the Lakshmana Rekha . Lakshman had not drawn the powerful line in front of Sita when he went to search Raman.

Ramayanam is always an exciting experience. It rejuvenates the minds. As the "scary" Karkidakom confines people to thier homes, the abundance of spirituality flourishes in souls. It prompts people to know how close we are to God and how important it is to follow the idelas Lord Ram represented.

അ ദ് ധ്യാ ത്മ രാ മാ യ ണ മി ദ മെ ത്ര യു-

 മ ത്യു ത്ത മോ ത്ത മം മൃ ത്യു ഞ്ജയ പ്രോ ക് തം

അ ദ് ധ്യ യ നം  ചെയ്കിൽ മർത്യനജ്ജന്മന

മുക്തി  സിദ്ധി ക്കു മതിനില്ല  സംശ യം
.

That is how the Ramayanam concludes. It is great reading it. This time I read with a tune. I could do that. More interestingly, this time, I made lesser mistakes while reading. Even the Sudarakandam looked easier this time. It is easy if we read it with dedication. There were much less mistakes this time while reading. That is heartening. The beautiful young Malayalam will live a little more years through people like me - hopefully

Whenever I stumbled upon hard stanzas of Sundarakandam, I profoundly remembered our Grandpa. He had been so restless when we enter Sundarakandam. It was tough those days. It was impossible to complete one verse without tripping on the tongue twisters several times. It was at times so annoying to hear his angry voice. But now I understand his feelings. We did make mistakes and it was not acceptable to read the God's story so badly. Remembering grandpa, I should assert one thing: grandpas are the pillars of a society. They play very important role in shaping up sensible young generations rooted in cultural ethos. Long live grandpas.

Raman is the embodiment of all virtues. He was a caring son, a loving husband, responsible leader, honest ruler and an affectionate brother. He protected the good people. He walked the extra mile to eliminate Bali the nemesis of Sugreevan. Bali who banished his younger brother Sugreevan to jungle and married his wife. Bali while breathing his last was made to realise his sins and the soul finds moksha there. Raman tells Bali   "ധർമത്തെ  രക്ഷിപ്പതിന്നായുധാവുമായ്  നിർമൽസരം  നടക്കുന്നിതു  നീളെ  ഞാൻ" -  With arms in hands I walk on the earth untiringly to save Dharma. Bhagavan was great. He was all powerful. The universe revolved around Him. He could punish the sinners ruthlessly.

That was the old story. In the present world, as the population increased beyond any control by God, He has left everything to the human beings. It became so difficult for Him to maintain records of omissions and commssions of each and every individual. Meanwhile, human beings developed computers that have started acting much faster than the brains. These computers could store volumes of data. God was left far behind in data recording and dispense with justice. In civilised societies, judges started handing down punishments and in uncivilised societies, those who got weapons determined rights and wrongs.

 

As I read out in my own tune "ithyadhyathma ramayanam,
                                                        uma maheswara samvade
                                                       yudhakandam samaptam", I felt a little sad. A highly nostalgic journey comes to an end. Another month in life has passed by. But of course, grandpa's soul would have felt so happy at hearing me reading the Sacred Book flawlessly...that made the entire process so blissful

 

Articulating a journey

 The aircraft has been badly tossed in the air several times. This is not the first time experience for me, but this one was really frightening. Once it entered the Keralam's airspace, the turbulence was unusually high. For a moment, I wanted to get down from the plane as soon as possible. I wonder how the jet setting executives fly across the world so frequently. It is hard. Whenever the plane gets into turbulence I become so restless. This is the part of the air travel I love to hate. The thrill in air travel is only for the first time or the second, after that, I do not think it entertains anyone

This time I was on my way to my home in Keralam. The journey started from Pondicherry by bus to Chennai. Pondicherry has an airport and it has a few flights to Bangalore operated by Spice Jet at present. The bus journey from Pondicherry normally takes around three and half hours. There are a number of buses operated by Tamil Nadu road Transport corporation and Pondicherry RTC. Every other minute, one bus from the bus stand starts to Chennai and an equal number of buses from Chennai to Pondi. These buses are very ordinary ones that offer no comforts. In all probability, the knees may hit the front seat if the person is a little taller than the normal ones. The price of journey is just Ninety two rupees for a distance of around 150 KM. A taxi may cost around Rs 3500 to cover this distance that include toll gate charges and entry permit. There are two big roads between Chennai and Pondicherry - One is the NH45 and the other the East Coast Road. Both the roads are very busy always and the distance covered is almost equal. It is a specialty – there are two big roads connecting two cities. It is rare to see such a feature in our country.

At Chennai domestic airport

I realised a blunder at the airport when the security men stopped me at the gate to check the ticket. The security guard tersely informed that the ticket that I hold is for July 24th, not for June 24th!  Though taken aback for a moment, I regained my composure very quickly. For me committing blunders is like sipping a cup of tea! Nothing surprising in the latest episode. I quickly walked up to the Spice Jet counter nearby. They demanded Rs 2800 to reschedule the ticket, but I got a saviour there. My friend Hari Kumar. He was with me at the engineering college. He is a respected figure in the Chennai airport as he is working with Intelligence Bureau of India and is on probation at the airport. He trains the airport employees and the security forces on matters concerning with security. Harikumar's presence itself made the Spice Jet personnel to waive the excess amount on my ticket even though he did not demand it! That is the clout my friend is holding there.  Sounds so great, isn't it? It is good to have friendship with big people like him...

There were two or three celebrities from Malayalam film field in the plane. They were spotted at the Chennai airport unnoticed by none. The other day, singer K S Chitra was spotted at Chennai airport. No one was even recognising her. She quietly went in and sat in the business class of the Dubai bound aircraft, in which I too was a passenger.  The celebrities stood at the lounge for a while and then moved a little far and sat there. Till they reached Kochi airport, no one recognised them. I wanted to say a hello to them when we sat together in the bus that carried all of us from the airport lounge to the aircraft, but was worried about their response. Once they landed at Kochi, they suddenly disappeared in high end sedans.

I waited for the i20 to turn up. That was a journey to join the one and all who suffered a big loss at the hands of the destiny twenty three years back. That was a Monday, the day on which our father departed all of us. In the past twenty three years, I could not attend the anniversary rituals several times. The other half of the departed soul who took the direct hit in the calamity never failed to arrange the rituals precisely on the anniversary day. That is the beauty of a married life. Where ever we are, one person is there, thinking of us. She calls and enquires if he had breakfast, then lunch and then dinner when he is away from home. She thinks of him all the time. I shall quickly add a disclaimer here. This is the general case but, for those who beg to differ I should say, there are exceptions.

 The five children he left behind had found some foot holds as the time passed by. There were four marriages, six births and a death in the family since he left - an eventful period indeed. Now, looking back at all these events, I realise with a tremor in the bottom of the heart, the gravity of the disaster that struck on that day.  The house he constructed is still standing at its place, though it looks so old and worn out. The temple at which he spent most of the time along with his acquaintances, post Visakhapatnam life, got a face lift and is more lively now. The paddy fields in which he too toiled to see some rice grains in the little granary in the house, wears a deserted look now. It is filled with salt water from back waters. No body is interested to cultivate, mainly because of the high labour costs. The second reason is the money flowing from outside the state. Everything can be bought from the market with the money, then why toil in the fields?  The wooden granary is still there in our house, filled with just darkness. Perhaps, hundreds of cockroaches are happily living in that now.

This granary did have full of rice grains once upon a time. Several times, I got into the dark chambers of the granary to collect rice grains. The grains then boiled in water, dried in the sun and then removed the husk manually by Meenakshiyamma and the aunty who lived in our neighbourhood. The solid wooden poles, that are called "ulakka" in Malayalam go up and down  a big groove in a cylindrical shapped stone called "ural" several times. It takes a lot of efforts to remove the husk. The end product is brown coloured rice grains that we all used to cook. No more urals or ulakkas in the 21st century. The ural is still lying in some corner at our home but not the ulakkas. They are not even kept as a relic from a glorious, humble and sweet past.

Time and tides, as the philosophy exhorts, wait for none. Time heals many a  wound. Life moves on with or without persons. That is how the dynamism works out. Let us all find solace in the verse from Bhagavatgita :

vasamsi jirnani yatha vihaya

navani grhnati naro 'parani

tatha sarirani vihaya jirnany

anyani samyati navani dehi

"As a person puts on new garments, giving up old ones, similarly, the soul accepts new material bodies, giving up the old and useless ones. "

 After the rituals, the rice balls were offered to the one and all who departed us. They were represented by the crows. A few crows swooped down on the rice balls and within a few minutes, emptied the place. The forefathers and mothers were believed to have returned happily after the "feast". Every living ones dispersed in a hurry only to assemble for repetition of the same rituals an year later. Where is time to go beyond rituals? I marvel at myself, at times, that I could find some time for others too. In the nuclear family, it is really difficult to look beyond the boundaries of  my spouse, my children and me concept...