October 21st Thursday – Thiruvannamalai
It was our relative’s wedding in Samayapuram. Mom had made great plans of waking up at 5:30 am, going to the temple and then going for the wedding and meeting all relatives. But I snoozed the alarm, woke up pretty late, checked mails, and was at the verge of cancelling even sharad poornima girivalam. I wanted to go to thiruvannamalai straight from wedding, but was not comfortable traveling with jewels and silk saree. So we ended up cancelling the wedding and after packing a dinner of chappati sabji, we boarded a bus after 2 pm and reached Thiruvannamalai around 9 pm.
Swathi Sri
We booked a room for a night in Swathi Sri. The guy at the counter was a BE BL. The moment he learnt the institute I graduated from, he said, we graduates ought to pay more when I told him that he is under-quoting his income. He was charging us 450 for room rent and 150 for deposit, while in the bill, he exchanged the rates and showed us all other bills with the same cheating stating he was saving us 10% of service tax. Well whatever, I just wanted to collapse. So we had our dinner late and woke up at 2:30 am.
October 22rd Friday
Girivalam
We started our girivalam after main gopuram darshan at 3:40 am and after 3 breaks (at Kubera linga, breakfast, coffee) we reached the hotel again after 8 am. We put our slippers there and went for darshan. I wish, I could have at least a 15-30 mins peaceful darshan in the sanctum sanctorum some time. We came out, got refreshed in Swathi Sri, boarded a bus to Salem. Wikimapia showed us various routes to reach Aliyar Temple of Consciousness and we decided the board the bus that started first.
Thiruvannamalai to Salem
Never realized Yercaud was on the way. It was picturesque. Really beautiful. Hazy grey blue mountains on both sides, green fields, gentle breeze, mild sunshine, with pitter patter of drizzle, it was a pleasant journey. We reached Erode from Salem and boarded a bus to Pollachi from Erode. It was after 9 when we reached Arivu Thirukoil. We booked the beds instead of room. I tried to remain awake for Sharad poornima, but I ended up sleeping.
October 23rd Saturday
Aliyar – Azhagu Azhagu
I woke up at 5:30 am, took bath, wore a dark green garden saree and came to the Mani mandapam for the 6 am meditation, but I missed it, by few minutes and the gates were locked. It was good in a way, I was wonderstruck with the beauty of the hillock partially hidden by mist and clouds, with the rising sun with its orange red hues pervading the eastern sky. The women in our dorm were on a 3 day Vazhndhu Kaattuvom Program, sent by the state government. The instructor met us on the way and asked us to join and we ended up going for early morning exercise. He said, if we are interested, we could enroll and after a few formalities, we were formally enrolled in the program. Luckily for breakfast we had wheat gruel, so I could eat.
Monkey Falls and Dam
A Swaraj Mazda was arranged for us, by the office and we reached Monkey Falls, and enjoyed the scenary. The gentle downpour and constant roar of waterfalls was energizing. Wish, I were born a guy, I could have taken bath and got thoroughly soaked in the pristine pure water. 2 govt employee guys were taking my snap without my permission near the falls and in the class session. We returned for our 3:40 pm session, where we were taught Kaya Kalpa.
In 2008, my school mate who had rahu in his 7th house had taught me this, after I insisted so much. I wanted to learn the whole set of exercises then, but only now, I got the chance. Now I really realized the truth that I should never learn anything for free and that I should learn good things from able gurus with proper explanation. I missed practicing it for 2 years, now that am certified, I know the benefits and am enthused to do it daily. After Baba Ramdev’s Patanjali yoga, institute GS’ surya namaskars and yet another different set of yogas, pranic healing and vipassana, now this is a new method, kind of same, yet quite different. My only confusion is that in pranic healing, I was asked to remove my pushparagam and meditate (because it will cause energy imbalance) while here, my instructor, says it is alright.
October 24th Sunday
We woke up at 5:15, and I missed my 6 am meditation again, because I wanted to have tea, and I ended up going to Omkara Mandapam. I had missed packing my kurta, and was embarrassed to meditate and exercise in my long dark scarlet red skirt and tight T-shirt. Wish I had got my white kurta. After seeing the museum, Vethathri Mahrishi’s room upstairs, we finished all components of the 3 day course, got our certificates and started from ashram after 2 pm. The instructor and one coimbatore lady volunteer adopted me as their daughter and I was overwhelmed with their kindness and kisses on my forehead and blessings.
Pollachi-Palani-Trichy
We reached Palani around 5 pm, and decided to go to Dandayuthapani Swamy temple as well. We took the train kind of thing while going up, had a darshan of Raja alankar Murugan and took the rope car back. Wish I had more time, though we could sit down for special darshan, it was again only for few minutes. I had rava dosa in saravana bhavan and we reached home at 3 am.
I missed 3 vocal classes, got so much to catch up now. Lost my mobile charger in Thiruvannamalai and my mobile is down without charge.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Atlas Shrugged
I had read this book years before, but now I was forced to read it again for an essay competition. Ayn Rand is too rajasic for me. Yes, most of what she says makes sense. But to generalize all Indian sadhus as mystic mucks is a bit antagonizing. Am wondering what she would say, to the current organizations, which in addition to making profit (skinning of customers as she would say) have CSR to shoulder, with climate change, sustainability, inclusive growth and green production. The money speech of Francisco d’Anconia made absolute sense. The following of some of the lines that caught my attention in this hurried second reading.
"What you think you think is an illusion created by your glands, your emotions and, in the last analysis, by the content of your stomach."
"That gray matter you're so proud of is like a mirror in an amusement park which transmits to you nothing but distorted signals from a reality forever beyond your grasp."
"The more certain you feel of your rational conclusions, the more certain you are to be wrong. Your brain being an instrument of distortion, the more active the brain the greater the distortion."
"The giants of the intellect, whom you admire so much, once taught you that the earth was flat and that fallacies, not of achievements."
"The more we know, the more we learn that we know nothing."
"Only the crassest ignoramus can still hold to the old-fashioned notion that seeing is believing. That which you see is the first thing to disbelieve."
"A scientist knows that a stone is not a stone at all. It is, in fact, identical with a feather pillow. Both are only a cloud formation of the same invisible, whirling particles. But, you say, you can't use a stone for a pillow? Well, that merely proves your helplessness in the face of actual reality."
"You see, Dr. Stadler, people don't want to think. And the deeper they get into trouble, the less they want to think. But by some sort of instinct, they feel that they ought to and it makes them feel guilty. So they'll bless and follow anyone who gives them a justification for not thinking. Anyone who makes a virtue—a highly intellectual virtue—out of what they know to be their sin, their weakness and their guilt."
Of what account are praise and adulation from men whom you don't respect? Have you ever felt the longing for someone you could admire? For something, not to look down at, but up to?"
"I've never despised luxury," he said, "yet I've always despised those who enjoyed it. I looked at what they called their pleasures and it seemed so miserably senseless to me—after what I felt at the mills.
"Are you saying," he asked slowly, "that I rose in your estimation when you found that I wanted you?"
"Of course."
"That's not the reaction of most people to being wanted."
"It isn't."
"Most people feel that they rise in their own eyes, if others want them.".
I'm Mrs. Taggart. I'm the woman in this family now."
"That's quite all right," said Dagny. "I'm the man.”
"We are at the dawn of a new age," said James Taggart, from above the rim of his champagne glass.
"We are breaking up the vicious tyranny of economic power. We will set men free of the rule of the dollar. We will release our spiritual aims from dependence on the owners of material means. We will liberate our culture from the stranglehold of the profit-chasers. We will build a society dedicated to higher ideals, and we will replace the aristocracy of money by—the aristocracy of pull
Tell me what a man finds sexually attractive and I will tell you his entire
philosophy of life.
Show me the woman he sleeps with and I will tell you his valuation of himself.
You're the man who's spent his life shaping matter to the purpose of his mind. You're the man who would know that just as an idea unexpressed in physical
action is contemptible hypocrisy, so is platonic love—and just as physical action unguided by an idea is a fool's self-fraud, so is sex when cut off from one's code of values.
Now you're willing to do it at the price of accepting the position of a criminal and
the risk of being thrown in jail at any moment—for the sake of keeping in existence a system which can be kept going only by its victims, only by the breaking of its own laws." Reminded me of the court scene in the movie Guru.
So he waited, holding his love in the place of the hope which he had no right to hold.
From then on, people helped Wesley Mouch to advance, for the same reason
as that which had prompted Uncle Julius: they were people who believed that mediocrity was safe.
"I know that everything is relative and that nobody can know anything and that reason is an illusion and that there isn't any reality.
"Mountains . . ." said Gilbert Keith-Worthing, with satisfaction.
"It is a spectacle of this kind that makes one feel the insignificance of man.' What is this presumptuous little bit of rail, which crude materialists are so proud of building—compared to that eternal grandeur? No more than the basting thread of a seamstress on the hem of the garment of nature. If a single one of those granite giants chose to crumble, it would annihilate this train."
Then she understood that what she needed was the motion to a purpose, no
matter how small or in what form, the sense of an activity going step by step to some chosen end across a span of time
But the looters—by their own stated theory—are in desperate, permanent, congenital need and at the blind mercy of matter Eddie?—we're on a dead planet, like
the moon, where we must move, but dare not stop for a breath of feeling or we'll discover that there is no air to breathe.
the belief that disasters are one's natural fate, to be borne, not fought. I can't accept submission. I can't accept helplessness. I can't accept renunciation. So long as there's a railroad left to run, I'll run it."
we were taught that some things belong to God and others to Caesar. Perhaps their God would permit it. But the man you say we're serving—he docs not permit it. He permits no divided allegiance, no war between your mind and your body, no gulf between your values and your actions, no tributes to Caesar. He permits no Caesars."
To me, she was not a person and not . . .not a woman. She was the railroad. And I didn't think that anyone would ever have the audacity to look at her in any other way.
"Any man who's afraid of hiring the best ability he can find, is a cheat who's in a business where he doesn't belong. To me—the foulest man on earth, more contemptible than a criminal, is the employer who rejects men for being too good. That's what I've always thought and—say, what are you laughing at?"
. . . There is reason, she thought, why a woman would wish to cook for a man . . . oh, not as a duty, not as a chronic career, only as a rare and special rite in symbol of . . . but what have they made of it, the preachers of woman's duty? . . . The castrated performance of a sickening drudgery was held to be a woman's proper virtue—while that which gave it meaning and sanction was held as a shameful sin . . . the work of dealing with grease, steam and slimy peelings in a reeking kitchen was held to be a spiritual matter, an act of compliance with her moral duty—while the meeting of two bodies in a bedroom was held to be a physical indulgence, an act of surrender to an animal instinct, with no glory, meaning or pride of spirit to be claimed by the animals involved.
Only if some one is there, i cook elaborate meals, experimenting with various recipes from internet. Left to myself, am too lazy to cook most of the days, and even if i do, i end up eating green things, horse gram, mostly fruits for dinner and veggies, noodles and things that can be cooked in less than 5 minutes.
Just yes'day i had to listen to a 3 hour crib session over phone of yet another husband who was complaining about his wife, who never cooked food for him in time. So much hoopla over food.
"I did love you once," she said dully, "but it wasn't what you wanted. I loved you for your courage, your ambition, your ability. But it wasn't real, any of it."
"You fear the man who has a dollar less than you, that dollar is rightfully his, he makes you feel like a moral defrauder. You hate the man who has a dollar more than you, that dollar is rightfully yours, he makes you feel that you are morally defrauded. The man below is a source of your guilt, the man above is a source of your frustration. You do not know what to surrender or demand, when to give and when to grab, what pleasure in life is rightfully yours and what debt is still unpaid to others—you struggle to evade, as 'theory,' the knowledge that by the moral standard you've accepted you are guilty every moment of your life, there is no mouthful of food you swallow that is not needed by someone somewhere on earth—and you give up the problem in blind resentment, you conclude that moral perfection is not to
be achieved or desired, that you will muddle through by snatching as snatch can and by avoiding the eyes of the young, of those who look at you as if self-esteem were possible and they expected you to have it. Guilt is all that you retain within your soul—and so does every other man, as he goes past, avoiding your eyes. Do you wonder why your morality has not achieved brotherhood on earth or the good will of man
to man?
Random females with causeless incomes flitter on trips around the globe and return to deliver the message that the backward peoples of the world demand a higher standard of living.
What permits any insolent beggar to wave his sores in the face of his betters and to plead for help in the tone of a threat?
"What you think you think is an illusion created by your glands, your emotions and, in the last analysis, by the content of your stomach."
"That gray matter you're so proud of is like a mirror in an amusement park which transmits to you nothing but distorted signals from a reality forever beyond your grasp."
"The more certain you feel of your rational conclusions, the more certain you are to be wrong. Your brain being an instrument of distortion, the more active the brain the greater the distortion."
"The giants of the intellect, whom you admire so much, once taught you that the earth was flat and that fallacies, not of achievements."
"The more we know, the more we learn that we know nothing."
"Only the crassest ignoramus can still hold to the old-fashioned notion that seeing is believing. That which you see is the first thing to disbelieve."
"A scientist knows that a stone is not a stone at all. It is, in fact, identical with a feather pillow. Both are only a cloud formation of the same invisible, whirling particles. But, you say, you can't use a stone for a pillow? Well, that merely proves your helplessness in the face of actual reality."
"You see, Dr. Stadler, people don't want to think. And the deeper they get into trouble, the less they want to think. But by some sort of instinct, they feel that they ought to and it makes them feel guilty. So they'll bless and follow anyone who gives them a justification for not thinking. Anyone who makes a virtue—a highly intellectual virtue—out of what they know to be their sin, their weakness and their guilt."
Of what account are praise and adulation from men whom you don't respect? Have you ever felt the longing for someone you could admire? For something, not to look down at, but up to?"
"I've never despised luxury," he said, "yet I've always despised those who enjoyed it. I looked at what they called their pleasures and it seemed so miserably senseless to me—after what I felt at the mills.
"Are you saying," he asked slowly, "that I rose in your estimation when you found that I wanted you?"
"Of course."
"That's not the reaction of most people to being wanted."
"It isn't."
"Most people feel that they rise in their own eyes, if others want them.".
I'm Mrs. Taggart. I'm the woman in this family now."
"That's quite all right," said Dagny. "I'm the man.”
"We are at the dawn of a new age," said James Taggart, from above the rim of his champagne glass.
"We are breaking up the vicious tyranny of economic power. We will set men free of the rule of the dollar. We will release our spiritual aims from dependence on the owners of material means. We will liberate our culture from the stranglehold of the profit-chasers. We will build a society dedicated to higher ideals, and we will replace the aristocracy of money by—the aristocracy of pull
Tell me what a man finds sexually attractive and I will tell you his entire
philosophy of life.
Show me the woman he sleeps with and I will tell you his valuation of himself.
You're the man who's spent his life shaping matter to the purpose of his mind. You're the man who would know that just as an idea unexpressed in physical
action is contemptible hypocrisy, so is platonic love—and just as physical action unguided by an idea is a fool's self-fraud, so is sex when cut off from one's code of values.
Now you're willing to do it at the price of accepting the position of a criminal and
the risk of being thrown in jail at any moment—for the sake of keeping in existence a system which can be kept going only by its victims, only by the breaking of its own laws." Reminded me of the court scene in the movie Guru.
So he waited, holding his love in the place of the hope which he had no right to hold.
From then on, people helped Wesley Mouch to advance, for the same reason
as that which had prompted Uncle Julius: they were people who believed that mediocrity was safe.
"I know that everything is relative and that nobody can know anything and that reason is an illusion and that there isn't any reality.
"Mountains . . ." said Gilbert Keith-Worthing, with satisfaction.
"It is a spectacle of this kind that makes one feel the insignificance of man.' What is this presumptuous little bit of rail, which crude materialists are so proud of building—compared to that eternal grandeur? No more than the basting thread of a seamstress on the hem of the garment of nature. If a single one of those granite giants chose to crumble, it would annihilate this train."
Then she understood that what she needed was the motion to a purpose, no
matter how small or in what form, the sense of an activity going step by step to some chosen end across a span of time
But the looters—by their own stated theory—are in desperate, permanent, congenital need and at the blind mercy of matter Eddie?—we're on a dead planet, like
the moon, where we must move, but dare not stop for a breath of feeling or we'll discover that there is no air to breathe.
the belief that disasters are one's natural fate, to be borne, not fought. I can't accept submission. I can't accept helplessness. I can't accept renunciation. So long as there's a railroad left to run, I'll run it."
we were taught that some things belong to God and others to Caesar. Perhaps their God would permit it. But the man you say we're serving—he docs not permit it. He permits no divided allegiance, no war between your mind and your body, no gulf between your values and your actions, no tributes to Caesar. He permits no Caesars."
To me, she was not a person and not . . .not a woman. She was the railroad. And I didn't think that anyone would ever have the audacity to look at her in any other way.
"Any man who's afraid of hiring the best ability he can find, is a cheat who's in a business where he doesn't belong. To me—the foulest man on earth, more contemptible than a criminal, is the employer who rejects men for being too good. That's what I've always thought and—say, what are you laughing at?"
. . . There is reason, she thought, why a woman would wish to cook for a man . . . oh, not as a duty, not as a chronic career, only as a rare and special rite in symbol of . . . but what have they made of it, the preachers of woman's duty? . . . The castrated performance of a sickening drudgery was held to be a woman's proper virtue—while that which gave it meaning and sanction was held as a shameful sin . . . the work of dealing with grease, steam and slimy peelings in a reeking kitchen was held to be a spiritual matter, an act of compliance with her moral duty—while the meeting of two bodies in a bedroom was held to be a physical indulgence, an act of surrender to an animal instinct, with no glory, meaning or pride of spirit to be claimed by the animals involved.
Only if some one is there, i cook elaborate meals, experimenting with various recipes from internet. Left to myself, am too lazy to cook most of the days, and even if i do, i end up eating green things, horse gram, mostly fruits for dinner and veggies, noodles and things that can be cooked in less than 5 minutes.
Just yes'day i had to listen to a 3 hour crib session over phone of yet another husband who was complaining about his wife, who never cooked food for him in time. So much hoopla over food.
"I did love you once," she said dully, "but it wasn't what you wanted. I loved you for your courage, your ambition, your ability. But it wasn't real, any of it."
"You fear the man who has a dollar less than you, that dollar is rightfully his, he makes you feel like a moral defrauder. You hate the man who has a dollar more than you, that dollar is rightfully yours, he makes you feel that you are morally defrauded. The man below is a source of your guilt, the man above is a source of your frustration. You do not know what to surrender or demand, when to give and when to grab, what pleasure in life is rightfully yours and what debt is still unpaid to others—you struggle to evade, as 'theory,' the knowledge that by the moral standard you've accepted you are guilty every moment of your life, there is no mouthful of food you swallow that is not needed by someone somewhere on earth—and you give up the problem in blind resentment, you conclude that moral perfection is not to
be achieved or desired, that you will muddle through by snatching as snatch can and by avoiding the eyes of the young, of those who look at you as if self-esteem were possible and they expected you to have it. Guilt is all that you retain within your soul—and so does every other man, as he goes past, avoiding your eyes. Do you wonder why your morality has not achieved brotherhood on earth or the good will of man
to man?
Random females with causeless incomes flitter on trips around the globe and return to deliver the message that the backward peoples of the world demand a higher standard of living.
What permits any insolent beggar to wave his sores in the face of his betters and to plead for help in the tone of a threat?
Pattambi - Kottakal
Pattambi was familiar surname for me till 2010. Then I happened to meet K after almost 10 years and he asked me to go for Kottakal ayurvedic treatment, that too on a shasti. I missed 4 shastis after that and finally decided to go on 29th. I really do not know till now, why K mentioned, book a train till Pattambi. He even gave the address of one of the lodges - Rajadhani, just near the railway station. So I did not heed anyone’s words when they said, that I need to alight at Tirur, and not Pattambi to go to Kottakal. I had even mailed Kottakal and even when had replied that the nearest station was Tirur, I adamantly thought, probably K was referring to a Kottakal Ayurveda Sala in Pattambi and that is where I need to go and not Kottakal.
The train was at 4:45 am, so we boarded the 2:45 am bus from home and reached the station 1 hour ahead of scheduled departure. I was so hungry around 5 am that I bought Britannia chocolate cake to munch at that hour. Mom and I promptly collapsed on our LBs once the train started moving and just as we were in deep slumber we found a family with 2 boisterous kids in our compartment. Man, they never let us sleep even for a second, and we were exhausted after a sleepless night since Tuesday.
Train Journey
Once we crossed Coimbatore, man it was sheer peace. There was a stretch of grey blue mountains and an awesome view of meadows. It was all greenery everywhere, with gay little flowers, odd peacocks and peahens, a small rivulet here and there, lush green paddy fields, a rush of plantain gardens, rows of coconut trees, it was so ecstatically beautiful, everywhere one looked.
Mangalore express stopped at most stations for 30 minutes to 1 hour, which seemed to be an interminable wait, especially the 1 hour wait in Palakkad. We alighted at Pattambi close to 3 pm and after couple of phone calls, discovered that K did not mean Pattambi.
Pattambi-Valanchery-Kottakal
We boarded a bus to Valanchery. It was a little more than a 1 hour drive, a picturesque one nevertheless. Everywhere we saw burqa clad pretty faces, so fresh and nubile. We had no problems finding the bus, since everyone there was very helpful and the conductors were crying the names of the destinations aloud. From Valanchery, we boarded another bus to Kottakal which took less than 1 hour.
Our conductor was over helpful and he made us get down at the charity hospital instead of our intended place. So we had to take an auto to go to AVS square. Things got over there in a jiffy. I took bath there and we started our long trip back home.
Kottakal-Palakkad-Salem-Trichy
Just nearby AVS, we had Changuvatty busstop. We boarded a bus to Mallapuram sub bus depot. We were famished, but I wanted to eat full meals with kerala boiled rice. However, obviously that was not to be available. So I ended up buying veg samosa and masala parrupu vadai from a bakery which was a blunder mistake, for it made mom sick.
We reached Palakkad in the darkness in 2-3 hours. And another bus to Salem, which we reached around 2:30 am. Buses to Trichy were frequent from Salem and we reached Trichy around 6 am and we were back home little after 7 am.
The lush green paddy fields, picturesque scenery everywhere, the nubile muslim girls with their heads covered, the charming disarray of cluttered, shining shops full of knickknacks, the winding roads, hills to border those roads, with gorgeous valleys and streams and bridges, man Kerala is God’s own country indeed.
The train was at 4:45 am, so we boarded the 2:45 am bus from home and reached the station 1 hour ahead of scheduled departure. I was so hungry around 5 am that I bought Britannia chocolate cake to munch at that hour. Mom and I promptly collapsed on our LBs once the train started moving and just as we were in deep slumber we found a family with 2 boisterous kids in our compartment. Man, they never let us sleep even for a second, and we were exhausted after a sleepless night since Tuesday.
Train Journey
Once we crossed Coimbatore, man it was sheer peace. There was a stretch of grey blue mountains and an awesome view of meadows. It was all greenery everywhere, with gay little flowers, odd peacocks and peahens, a small rivulet here and there, lush green paddy fields, a rush of plantain gardens, rows of coconut trees, it was so ecstatically beautiful, everywhere one looked.
Mangalore express stopped at most stations for 30 minutes to 1 hour, which seemed to be an interminable wait, especially the 1 hour wait in Palakkad. We alighted at Pattambi close to 3 pm and after couple of phone calls, discovered that K did not mean Pattambi.
Pattambi-Valanchery-Kottakal
We boarded a bus to Valanchery. It was a little more than a 1 hour drive, a picturesque one nevertheless. Everywhere we saw burqa clad pretty faces, so fresh and nubile. We had no problems finding the bus, since everyone there was very helpful and the conductors were crying the names of the destinations aloud. From Valanchery, we boarded another bus to Kottakal which took less than 1 hour.
Our conductor was over helpful and he made us get down at the charity hospital instead of our intended place. So we had to take an auto to go to AVS square. Things got over there in a jiffy. I took bath there and we started our long trip back home.
Kottakal-Palakkad-Salem-Trichy
Just nearby AVS, we had Changuvatty busstop. We boarded a bus to Mallapuram sub bus depot. We were famished, but I wanted to eat full meals with kerala boiled rice. However, obviously that was not to be available. So I ended up buying veg samosa and masala parrupu vadai from a bakery which was a blunder mistake, for it made mom sick.
We reached Palakkad in the darkness in 2-3 hours. And another bus to Salem, which we reached around 2:30 am. Buses to Trichy were frequent from Salem and we reached Trichy around 6 am and we were back home little after 7 am.
The lush green paddy fields, picturesque scenery everywhere, the nubile muslim girls with their heads covered, the charming disarray of cluttered, shining shops full of knickknacks, the winding roads, hills to border those roads, with gorgeous valleys and streams and bridges, man Kerala is God’s own country indeed.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Things I miss in IIMB
1. Verdant sylvan ambience
2. Dozens of parrots shrieking early morning in BEFG squre
3. Yellow flowers in full bloom in February in L square
4. Lush green grass carpet by the KL blocks
5. 6 pm MDC yoga classes
6. Shyamal Roy sir’s lectures
7. 2:30 am swinging in the childrens park, amidst heavy rain and thunder
8. Countless walks with numerous great people at all times
9. Viewing Madiwala lake from the water tank top
10. Seeing the parrots sitting on the sunflower and pecking its seeds
11. Reading novels with brown doggy Socks in OAT amidst greenery and flowers
12. Listening to and being with Hazra sir’s parents
13. Being with the small kid Shubha and listening to her stories
14. My very own first tulsi pot
15. Friends and lovely girls in shorts flashing all around; tremendous energy of fellow students
16. Doing pranayam early morning on B terrace with the refreshing fragrance of Panneer Maram/Akash Mallige/Neem Chameli
17. Watching the early morning sunrise from KL terrace
18. Hostel food and fruits most of the times
19. The library along the divine statue of Saraswathi by the steps
2. Dozens of parrots shrieking early morning in BEFG squre
3. Yellow flowers in full bloom in February in L square
4. Lush green grass carpet by the KL blocks
5. 6 pm MDC yoga classes
6. Shyamal Roy sir’s lectures
7. 2:30 am swinging in the childrens park, amidst heavy rain and thunder
8. Countless walks with numerous great people at all times
9. Viewing Madiwala lake from the water tank top
10. Seeing the parrots sitting on the sunflower and pecking its seeds
11. Reading novels with brown doggy Socks in OAT amidst greenery and flowers
12. Listening to and being with Hazra sir’s parents
13. Being with the small kid Shubha and listening to her stories
14. My very own first tulsi pot
15. Friends and lovely girls in shorts flashing all around; tremendous energy of fellow students
16. Doing pranayam early morning on B terrace with the refreshing fragrance of Panneer Maram/Akash Mallige/Neem Chameli
17. Watching the early morning sunrise from KL terrace
18. Hostel food and fruits most of the times
19. The library along the divine statue of Saraswathi by the steps
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Kolli Hills
It was in the road of Old Mahabalipuram road/ECR Prathiyankara Devi temple, that the poojari used to talk a lot about kula deivam. I used to wonder who was our Kula deivam and learnt it was in Kolli Hills. That was in 2006. From then onwards I had been clamoring to go to Kolli Hills and I got the chance at last only this Sunday. This Sunday was off for mom and she was working other Sundays. So this was the day I had to catch.
I had kept the alarm at 1:45 to board the 2:30 am early morning bus, but could not get out of bed despite waking up. When I kept the alarm for my swimming timings at 4:15, I realized I had forgot to save the alarm, so I woke up lazily at 9:30 am. We boarded the 11:30 bus to Namakkal and boarded the last 2:15 bus to Kolli Hills that took the roundabout route. Am glad it took that route.
70 Hairpin bends
We had our packed idlies and groundnut chutney in the bus, at the base of the Hill, where the bus stopped for 30 minutes. Then started the fairy tale trip. It was simply fantabulous. It was full of lush greenery. There were huge bamboo trees on either sides. So many small monkeys.
In between there was a meat feast going on at a roadside temple where a small rivulet was flowing melodiously. There were guys standing in groups here and there with liquour in their hands on the way. There was one family having its lunch outside the parked car sitting on the small stone walls. Surpassing all that was the breathtaking scenery around 4:30 – 5:00 pm. Sun was making its descent and the dwadashi moon was peeping on one side. There were hazy grey blue hills in the background and in the valley lush fresh green paddy fields with a small stream of water flowing in between the fields. Plantain trees were planted along the border of those paddy fields. That was simply amazing. That image is still so fresh in my inner eye. The sheer exquisite beauty of nature was simple breathtaking. All this with a fresh soothing breeze made it an awesome experience.
Arabaleeshwar Temple
It was small cute, neat temple that had the main deity along with Aram valartha naayagi sanniddhi. Had a peaceful darshan and we returned by the same bus, we took. It was close to 3:00 am when we reached back home. Next time, we will hire some cab and visit the 2 falls as well.
I had kept the alarm at 1:45 to board the 2:30 am early morning bus, but could not get out of bed despite waking up. When I kept the alarm for my swimming timings at 4:15, I realized I had forgot to save the alarm, so I woke up lazily at 9:30 am. We boarded the 11:30 bus to Namakkal and boarded the last 2:15 bus to Kolli Hills that took the roundabout route. Am glad it took that route.
70 Hairpin bends
We had our packed idlies and groundnut chutney in the bus, at the base of the Hill, where the bus stopped for 30 minutes. Then started the fairy tale trip. It was simply fantabulous. It was full of lush greenery. There were huge bamboo trees on either sides. So many small monkeys.
In between there was a meat feast going on at a roadside temple where a small rivulet was flowing melodiously. There were guys standing in groups here and there with liquour in their hands on the way. There was one family having its lunch outside the parked car sitting on the small stone walls. Surpassing all that was the breathtaking scenery around 4:30 – 5:00 pm. Sun was making its descent and the dwadashi moon was peeping on one side. There were hazy grey blue hills in the background and in the valley lush fresh green paddy fields with a small stream of water flowing in between the fields. Plantain trees were planted along the border of those paddy fields. That was simply amazing. That image is still so fresh in my inner eye. The sheer exquisite beauty of nature was simple breathtaking. All this with a fresh soothing breeze made it an awesome experience.
Arabaleeshwar Temple
It was small cute, neat temple that had the main deity along with Aram valartha naayagi sanniddhi. Had a peaceful darshan and we returned by the same bus, we took. It was close to 3:00 am when we reached back home. Next time, we will hire some cab and visit the 2 falls as well.
Tiruchendur Again
Train Saga
This time, I had booked train tickets a fortnight in advance. The train was at 1:30 am. So we boarded the last bus at 10:30. The bus did not go to junction, so we alighted at head post office and walked along the straight road till junction, thinking it would reduce the waiting time. It was just a little after 11. We walked and reached the station and found the train was in platform 4. I did not want to use the subway, I thought, I would use the way that the railway electric vehicles use and we walked till the very end of the platform without finding the path, till we reached the overbridge and found that we had come to platform 3 instead of 4. We took 30 mins for this walk, so finally, we had to use the subway. We slept for an hour and till 1:30, Pearl City express did not come, instead there was some kerala bound train in the same platform. After couple of frantic enquires, at last the train came and we clambered onto the train. In the morning, mom showed her swollen right hand, due to mosquitos at night.
It was 7:30 when we reached Tuticorin station. From there we boarded an auto for 40 bucks and we reached the new busstand and thereafter we took another bus to Thiruchendur. In the bus, an old lady boarded the bus after few stops along with a mentally challenged lady dressed in pavadai chatta. She kept on blabbering thanga thangam, she took the saliva from her mouth and kept on applying it to her face. We felt so bad, that I had to close my eyes in prayer.
Temple and Sea
We reached the temple, amidst the familiar sound of roaring waves, after refreshing, in a lodge, it was close to 10, when we reached the sea for a dip. The waves were tumultuous, very strong, not like the Arabian sea, where I could wade deep enough and swim gleefully. So here I sat down and played in the waves, my kurti suffered a tear near my left shoulder as the pinned dupatta struggled with the waves. The waves turned me a whole 180 degrees. The water was cool in spite of 10 am sun. We spent 1 hour in the beach and returned to the hotel, took bath, had food (this time too oops!) and went for darshan around 2 pm. Mom decided to leave the footwear in the lodge itself. It was the most insane thing to do in the 2 pm scorching sun. I was crying due to the burning sensation in my soles and started throwing tantrums by the time I reached the temple entrance shade. To my surprise, small small children were walking around barefoot unmindful of the hot sun.
It was a peaceful darshan, and while mom and A went for buying panchamrutham and other stuff, I sat and after a while, lay down on a stone bench watching the waves. I could see the winds along with the waves as they formed, rose, spread into a straight line, before merging into the turquoise blue sea with a roar. One wave rose, joined several others and it all stretched together into a straight, neat white wave stretching more than 10 metres just for few seconds, before breaking up and dissolving again.
People were taking snaps through the camera guys, by the sea, the print was kind of ok. Some had got married in the temple. Kids in colourful dresses were playing by. While returning, one kid took A for his mother and started following her and we had to send the kid back to his parents.
Valli Guhai
Last time, we had missed this cave. This time, again walking from the main temple till valli guhai entrance in the scorching sun was unbearable. But soon, we got into soothing shade. This side, the sea beach was peppered with black mossy rocks and the waves seemed less ferocious compared to the temple front. After getting the entrance ticket, we went inside crawling to see the devi. It was such a small cramped space with no ventilation. But it seemed adventurous. The porous walls surrounding the Valli Guhai had so many holes, where I could insert my finger and see it come out through the other end.
Back in the lodge
We came back and collapsed for a while. KTV was showing Mounam Pesiyadhe, which I watched in a half drowsy state. Suddenly it was 5:30 and the train in Tuticorin was at 7:30 (so I thought, it was actually at 7:45). My legs started aching suddenly. I had ordered coffee and cauliflower pakoda, which took some time in getting prepared. So mom and A were kind of furious. We reached the old busstand at 7:15 pm. And we had just 15 mins to board the train. We had no time to pack dinner. We took an auto and reached the station just before 7:30 and found the train ready to move.
We slept for a while, while our fellow compartment mates started having their dinner. Only at Sathur, a mallu guy gave us 2 chappathis for 20 bucks, we got 3 parcels and after munching, we collapsed blissfully till 1:25. Akka woke me up just when the train stopped and we dragged our sleepy feet to the busstand. Within 20 minutes the night service bus came and it was 3 am when I collapsed on the bed.
After a few days, I washed my white pants and dried them, and while I flipped it before folding, lots of shells and sand splashed all over. So much of sea sand was still trapped in the pant folds even after 2 washings. This time, unlike the previous time, Thiruchendur trip was less strenuous and the darshan without crowd was peaceful.
This time, I had booked train tickets a fortnight in advance. The train was at 1:30 am. So we boarded the last bus at 10:30. The bus did not go to junction, so we alighted at head post office and walked along the straight road till junction, thinking it would reduce the waiting time. It was just a little after 11. We walked and reached the station and found the train was in platform 4. I did not want to use the subway, I thought, I would use the way that the railway electric vehicles use and we walked till the very end of the platform without finding the path, till we reached the overbridge and found that we had come to platform 3 instead of 4. We took 30 mins for this walk, so finally, we had to use the subway. We slept for an hour and till 1:30, Pearl City express did not come, instead there was some kerala bound train in the same platform. After couple of frantic enquires, at last the train came and we clambered onto the train. In the morning, mom showed her swollen right hand, due to mosquitos at night.
It was 7:30 when we reached Tuticorin station. From there we boarded an auto for 40 bucks and we reached the new busstand and thereafter we took another bus to Thiruchendur. In the bus, an old lady boarded the bus after few stops along with a mentally challenged lady dressed in pavadai chatta. She kept on blabbering thanga thangam, she took the saliva from her mouth and kept on applying it to her face. We felt so bad, that I had to close my eyes in prayer.
Temple and Sea
We reached the temple, amidst the familiar sound of roaring waves, after refreshing, in a lodge, it was close to 10, when we reached the sea for a dip. The waves were tumultuous, very strong, not like the Arabian sea, where I could wade deep enough and swim gleefully. So here I sat down and played in the waves, my kurti suffered a tear near my left shoulder as the pinned dupatta struggled with the waves. The waves turned me a whole 180 degrees. The water was cool in spite of 10 am sun. We spent 1 hour in the beach and returned to the hotel, took bath, had food (this time too oops!) and went for darshan around 2 pm. Mom decided to leave the footwear in the lodge itself. It was the most insane thing to do in the 2 pm scorching sun. I was crying due to the burning sensation in my soles and started throwing tantrums by the time I reached the temple entrance shade. To my surprise, small small children were walking around barefoot unmindful of the hot sun.
It was a peaceful darshan, and while mom and A went for buying panchamrutham and other stuff, I sat and after a while, lay down on a stone bench watching the waves. I could see the winds along with the waves as they formed, rose, spread into a straight line, before merging into the turquoise blue sea with a roar. One wave rose, joined several others and it all stretched together into a straight, neat white wave stretching more than 10 metres just for few seconds, before breaking up and dissolving again.
People were taking snaps through the camera guys, by the sea, the print was kind of ok. Some had got married in the temple. Kids in colourful dresses were playing by. While returning, one kid took A for his mother and started following her and we had to send the kid back to his parents.
Valli Guhai
Last time, we had missed this cave. This time, again walking from the main temple till valli guhai entrance in the scorching sun was unbearable. But soon, we got into soothing shade. This side, the sea beach was peppered with black mossy rocks and the waves seemed less ferocious compared to the temple front. After getting the entrance ticket, we went inside crawling to see the devi. It was such a small cramped space with no ventilation. But it seemed adventurous. The porous walls surrounding the Valli Guhai had so many holes, where I could insert my finger and see it come out through the other end.
Back in the lodge
We came back and collapsed for a while. KTV was showing Mounam Pesiyadhe, which I watched in a half drowsy state. Suddenly it was 5:30 and the train in Tuticorin was at 7:30 (so I thought, it was actually at 7:45). My legs started aching suddenly. I had ordered coffee and cauliflower pakoda, which took some time in getting prepared. So mom and A were kind of furious. We reached the old busstand at 7:15 pm. And we had just 15 mins to board the train. We had no time to pack dinner. We took an auto and reached the station just before 7:30 and found the train ready to move.
We slept for a while, while our fellow compartment mates started having their dinner. Only at Sathur, a mallu guy gave us 2 chappathis for 20 bucks, we got 3 parcels and after munching, we collapsed blissfully till 1:25. Akka woke me up just when the train stopped and we dragged our sleepy feet to the busstand. Within 20 minutes the night service bus came and it was 3 am when I collapsed on the bed.
After a few days, I washed my white pants and dried them, and while I flipped it before folding, lots of shells and sand splashed all over. So much of sea sand was still trapped in the pant folds even after 2 washings. This time, unlike the previous time, Thiruchendur trip was less strenuous and the darshan without crowd was peaceful.
1984
George Orwell was born in Bengal during the British reign over India. It is intriguing as to what made him imagine such a dystopian world. Minitrue, miniplenty, minipax, miniluv – nice names for the 4 ministries.
Here goes couple of lines that interested me.
It is deliberate policy to keep even the favoured groups somewhere near the brink of hardship, because a general state of scarcity increases the importance of small privileges and thus magnifies the distinction between one group and another.
The best books, he perceived, are those that tell you what you know already
The aim of the High is to remain where they are. The aim of the Middle is to change places with the High. The aim of the Low, when they have an aim -- for it is an abiding characteristic of the Low that they are too much crushed by drudgery to be more than intermittently conscious of anything outside their daily lives -- is to abolish all distinctions and create a society in which all men shall be equal. Thus throughout history a struggle which is the same in its main outlines recurs over and over again.
Even today, in a period of decline, the average human being is physically better off than he was a few centuries ago. But no advance in wealth, no softening of manners, no reform or revolution has ever brought human equality a millimetre nearer. From the point of view of the Low, no historic change has ever meant much more than a change in the name of their masters. history as a cyclical process and
claimed to show that inequality was the unalterable law of human life.
Wealth and privilege are most easily defended when they are possessed jointly.
Even the names of the four Ministries by which we are governed exhibit a sort of impudence in their deliberate reversal of the facts. The Ministry of Peace concerns itself with war, the Ministry of Truth with lies, the Ministry of Love with torture and the Ministry of Plenty with starvation. These contradictions are not accidental, nor do they result from ordinary hypocrisy; they are deliberate exercises in doublethink. “‘Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present controls the past,’
Here goes couple of lines that interested me.
It is deliberate policy to keep even the favoured groups somewhere near the brink of hardship, because a general state of scarcity increases the importance of small privileges and thus magnifies the distinction between one group and another.
The best books, he perceived, are those that tell you what you know already
The aim of the High is to remain where they are. The aim of the Middle is to change places with the High. The aim of the Low, when they have an aim -- for it is an abiding characteristic of the Low that they are too much crushed by drudgery to be more than intermittently conscious of anything outside their daily lives -- is to abolish all distinctions and create a society in which all men shall be equal. Thus throughout history a struggle which is the same in its main outlines recurs over and over again.
Even today, in a period of decline, the average human being is physically better off than he was a few centuries ago. But no advance in wealth, no softening of manners, no reform or revolution has ever brought human equality a millimetre nearer. From the point of view of the Low, no historic change has ever meant much more than a change in the name of their masters. history as a cyclical process and
claimed to show that inequality was the unalterable law of human life.
Wealth and privilege are most easily defended when they are possessed jointly.
Even the names of the four Ministries by which we are governed exhibit a sort of impudence in their deliberate reversal of the facts. The Ministry of Peace concerns itself with war, the Ministry of Truth with lies, the Ministry of Love with torture and the Ministry of Plenty with starvation. These contradictions are not accidental, nor do they result from ordinary hypocrisy; they are deliberate exercises in doublethink. “‘Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present controls the past,’
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