FIRST ANNIVERSARY

Exactly a year back, on this day, I started blogging.  Though I have always been a storyteller, I never considered blogging as an option.  My niece and brother have been blogging for quite some time, but I never ever thought I would join the bandwagon. 

When I read Khushwant Singh’s “Death At My Doorstep” early last year, I got curious to know how people would remember me after my death and requested my friend P.R.Govind, an avid blogger to write my obituary.  “Request” is not the appropriate term, as I pestered him every now and then to write my obituary.  He obliged and as planned, posted it on 1st April 2011.(Goodbye My Friend)  As I posted this link on my facebook status, my friend Vivek Joshi, requested me to write his obituary.  When Mr.Govind was hesitant to write my obituary, I could not empathize with his sentiments, but when Vivek Joshi requested me to do the same for him, I too got little sentimental.  So, to satisfy my sentiment, I wrote a post-dated obituary and posted it on my blog and thus I started this wonderful journey.

Twelve months, 20 posts, 903 page views, the pleasure in incredible.  Though I have never crossed the Vindhyas, my blog is not only read across India, but across the globe.  It is indeed heartening to note that, within minutes of my posting a blog, some one starts reading it.  Most of my friends who have patiently read my blogs have given me a feedback.  While appreciation is motivating, criticisms are enlightening.  “Not at all dirty – a tribute to Silk Smitha” has had the most page views.  Though the very title of my blog “Sorry my dear friends!” sounds apologetic, my girl friends are unforgiving about my observations and the remarks I made in my blog.  They feel I am prejudiced.  “Pride and Prejudice could become controversial” – warned my well-wishers.  Fortunately, it didn’t.  I wrote it without any prejudice.  An unknown reader read it everyday for a week exactly at the same time and I was eager to know his/her views.  Sadly he/she has not left any comments on the blog.  After I post a blog, I keep monitoring the page views, the audience, the traffic source and the search keywords.  I was amused to see a person keying “which direction head should be placed during sleep is best to have child for childless couple as per Vastu?” and probably my recent blog, “What’s this Vastu di?” was one of the results he/she got.

This new found platform for expression has given me immense pleasure.  The only disadvantage is that people who are very close to me are little guarded in their speech now and whenever they say something controversial, they immediately request me not to quote them in any of my blogs.

It has been a wonderful journey and I take this opportunity to thank Vivek Joshi, who initiated me into this, Govind for being my Guru, my niece Varsha for helping me to start the blog,  my brothers Hemantha Kumar and Satyanarayana for not just regularly following my blog and appreciating, but also for letting me to express myself thus acknowledging my adulthood (through out they have been very protective), my friends Anuja and Aparajita for giving their unbiased opinion when I share the content with them before posting, my friends, Murali, Prakash, Ganga, Uma & Uma, Geetha, Lakshmi, Padma,  Sujata, Aparna, Sharmila, Rupali, Srividya, Anup, Natarajan, Nitin, Sudha, Bobby, Radha, Hema and others, whose names I have missed and all the unknown followers across the globe, who have read my blog.

Though my parents, my sister, my sisters-in-law, my brother-in-law, my little nephews and niece don’t read my blog, I will be failing in my duty if I don’t acknowledge, as they all contribute to the development of my personality.

Being an eternal optimist, I know there is a long way to go and the best is yet to come.

I thank all my readers and close with a request to please leave your valuable comments on the blog or mail to pcharusree@gmail.com.

Thanks once again!

Regards,

Charusree

What’s this Vastu di?

In a recent talk show telecast by a popular Tamil Channel, the topic for discussion was Vastu.

Though the dictionary meaning of the Sanskrit word Vastu means a house, it is synonymously used with Vastu Sastra or the science of architecture and is generally associated with wellbeing and prosperity.

The anchor of the said show started the programme by saying that though Vastu is an ancient science or art form, its revival is recent.  May be that is true to the non-Telugus.  In all Telugu homes including the Telugu Diaspora, it is one of the most favourite topics of discussion after films, pickles and politics of Andhra.  Telugus in general know the basic principles of Vastu Sastra like the back of their hands.  The first question a Telugu speaking person asks when he/she is visiting a friend or a relative’s house is “Toorpu etu? (Meaning - which is east?) And from there, starts the process of checking Vastu compliance. 

Though we Indians have accepted science and technology with an open mind, simultaneously we take pride in clinging on to certain primitive traditions and associate superstitious beliefs to them.

I have neither read any books nor had discussion with any scholars on this subject, so my perception is completely based on hearsay.  I feel that in ancient times when people depended more on nature for light, air and water, certain pattern was followed for optimum utilization of natural elements like the main door of the house to face east to get adequate sunlight and a door always to face another door or window to facilitate cross ventilation and to avoid friction, uniformity or discipline was advocated.  For example all wells were always sunk in the north-eastern corners to avoid water turning brackish and kitchens set up in the south-eastern corners to reduce concentration of heat and smoke.  I don’t think it is anything beyond this, though over a period of time, Vastu got associated with religious and superstitious beliefs and now evolved into an industry and whenever a person faces a financial or health related problem, he/she is advised to check Vastu compliance of the residence.  Those who start believing in Vastu, make structural changes to their houses very often.  If they cannot afford it, they would swap the rooms; for example cook in the living room or sleep in the kitchen.  Childless couples are always advised to shift their beds to another room or the positioning of the bed to be blessed with children.  Visiting fertility clinics is also secondary.

One area of controversy is the bathroom.  No two Vastu experts’ opinion on this area would be the same.  The reason could be because the concept of bathroom and toilet is very new to Indian homes.  Till a century ago, every source of water (well, spring, stream, lake, river, falls, canal and sea) was a bathing site and any open field was a toilet.  The scene is still the same in rural India.  When a family faces a crisis, the bathroom is the first to be blamed. 

My father, who grew up in A.P. built our house adhering mostly to the Vastu rules.  He is a little superstitious about this and gets upset if we don’t allow him to do things his way.  My mother, who is otherwise a rationalist, has never objected to his obsession with Vastu.  The result, every room appears more like a verandah with several doors and windows leaving very little room for walls and storage.  Though lack of privacy is a great disadvantage, because of cross-ventilation, there is ample natural light and circulation of air.  I am so much used to the brightness and fresh air, anywhere else, I feel claustrophobic.   

When we built an overhead tank for water storage on the south-west corner (as per the Vastu) far away from the well,  some of our neighbours who already had their water tanks, either rebuilt them or built an extra water tank in the south-west corner, as they felt that my father would not do anything without a purpose.  There are still houses with two water tanks in our colony.  A neighbour, who was also a film producer, modified his house before every film’s release, as he believed that there was a correlation between the structure and success. 

Once I visited a friend in their newly built home and soon after I settled in the sofa, her mother asked me if the Vastu of their house was okay.  I was still in college and I don’t know why she felt I had knowledge of Vastu.  (I agree, my appearance was/is very deceptive and confusing) Not willing to expose my lack of knowledge or belief in the system, I spontaneously asked her “Toorpu etu?” (Which is east?)  After she replied, I scanned the whole house (just the way, most of the visitors to our house did) and requested her to take me to their kitchen.  She led me there and after looking at the stove and idols placed in opposite corners of their kitchen, I said “perfect.  I think Uncle has consulted an expert before going ahead”.  She was very pleased and convinced that the Vastu of their house and her judgment about me were right.

While the old school of Vastu speaks only of design, the scope is now widened to colours, plants, furniture and fixtures. I don’t know why the mention of Chinese Vastu, which is now the rage, reminds me of “vegetarian omelet”!

SIDE EFFECT OF HAPPINESS

I am a happy person.  That’s the way I have always been.  This doesn’t mean that I am never sad or I don’t get angry.  Both sadness and anger are very spontaneous feelings for me and they disappear at the same speed they surface.  I perceive all positive things as a continuum and negative happenings as episodes and hold no grudge against anyone.  Like all other human beings, I have seen ups and downs, but my goal has always been to lead a happy, comfortable and dignified life.  I feel only in helpless situations, human beings cry and don’t like to see myself trapped in a helpless situation and I make every effort to get out of any troubled situation.

Why am I explaining all this?

For the last few months, I am suffering from an eye disorder and regularly visiting ophthalmologists and taking medicines.  I am suffering from a condition called ‘Dry Eye Syndrome’.  My eyes don’t produce enough tears to lubricate my eyes and hence my vision is blurred and I experience constant infections resulting in irritation in my eyes.

While my ophthalmologist feels it could be due to excessive usage of computers and faulty lighting, a friend of mine has a different perspective.   He feels, because I am single, I don’t cry as much as an average Indian woman does.  (In fact, I don’t remember when was the last time I wept though there were many times I felt like crying).  Secondly, I don’t watch soaps on TV, which induce the audience to cry.  Thirdly by avoiding onions and garlic in my food, I have denied myself a natural source of lubricants for my eyes.  He feels it is good once in a while to be sad!

SOLITARY PERFORMERS

A few weeks back I visited an Ayyappa temple to pay fee for a special Pooja on behalf of a colleague, who was away from Chennai.  As I waited for my turn in the queue at the counter, I noticed that the temple was bustling with activity.  There were more visitors, as it was the annual Sabarimala pilgrimage season.

December-January is literally the music season in Chennai, the cultural capital of India.  Every Sabha (Society) big and small and temples take pride in organizing Kutcheris (music and dance concerts) during this period and artistes – established and budding, long to perform during this season.  Music lovers from all over the world storm Chennai during these months and enjoy hopping from one Sabha to another, attending concerts.  It is also a peak business period for all associated industries.  While some halls are jam-packed with audience, many are not. 

The Sabarimala pilgrimage season coincides with the Chennai music season and hence a Kutcheri was arranged in the Ayyappa temple in reference.  A stage was setup near the sales counter and carpets spread on the floor for the audience.  On that day, an elderly person was singing on the stage.  He had no accompanists – not even a Tanpura player.  Though not an accomplished artiste, he sang very well.  He was very focused, confident and apparently enjoyed.  Though there were a few hundred people inside the temple, sadly nobody seemed to be interested in his performance.  An old fashioned lady was the only audience.  May be she is his partner.  She held a small basket with a flask and a bottle of water.  She too was disinterested in the performance and gazed at the queue and the other activities taking place in the temple.  I felt very sad for the artiste performing on the stage.  I wondered, what motivates such people to perform with great involvement in the absence of recognition, acknowledgement, appreciation or rewards.

We recently received the following message from our Chief Executive about “Excellence”. 

A German once visited a temple under construction in India where he saw a sculptor making an idol of God. Suddenly he noticed a similar idol lying nearby. Surprised, he asked the sculptor, "Do you need two statues of the same idol?" "No" said the sculptor without looking up, "We need only one, but the first one got damaged at the last stage." The gentleman examined the idol and found no apparent damage. "Where is the damage?" he asked. "There is a scratch on the nose of the idol." said the sculptor, still busy with his work. The German asked "Where are you going to install the idol?"

The sculptor replied that it would be installed on a pillar twenty feet high. "If the idol is that far, who is going to know that there is a scratch on the nose?" the gentleman asked. The sculptor stopped his work, looked up at the gentleman, smiled and said; two people know it, "Myself and GOD."

The desire to perfection & excel is exclusive of the fact whether someone else appreciates it or not.

"Excellence" is a drive from inside, not outside.

Excellence is not for someone else to notice but for your own satisfaction and efficiency.

The message was not just motivating, but also was an answer to my doubt about what motivates those who excel.  Not just the artistes, but many persons including newspaper boys, milkmen, servant maids, postmen, sweepers, cleaners, teachers, nurses, doctors, engineers, scientists, traffic policemen, pilots, drivers and many others are solitary performers in their own ways and are self-driven, who even in the absence of appreciation or recognition perform their job so well, which results in the smooth functioning of this world.  Can we imagine a world without them?

Message from MSK – a tribute

“NEVER CLOSE A DOOR WITH A BANG, YOU WOULD NEVER KNOW WHEN YOU HAVE TO REOPEN IT” – were the words written on the door of MSK’s office, I was told by my seniors, when I started working.

Sri M.S.Krishnamurthy or MSK, as he was fondly called was the founder-director of Citadel Fine Pharmaceuticals, with which I was associated for more than a decade.  By the time I had started working MSK had retired and visited our office occasionally.  Though he was not involved in the day-to-day operations, he monitored funds flow and primary sales regularly.  He took my help in compilation of data and typing reports.  Unlike his contemporaries, he was tech-savvy.  Every time he visited, he learnt something new or taught us something new.   

Sometimes, he also sought my help in typing his personal letters.  On such occasions, he brought the necessary stationery including letterheads, envelopes, postage stamps and acknowledgement cards etc. If I had to send the letters by courier service, he immediately paid cash for the service.  Though he was one of the Directors, he never allowed office stationery to be used for his personal work.  He always checked if I had any other important work before assigning work. He wrote the letters in longhand on rough sheets and insisted that I read his script aloud to ensure that I understood the contents before I started typing.  The letters were always interesting.  They were mostly addressed to Bank Managers for wrong credits/debits, to Companies for non-receipt of dividend warrants, to Corporation Officials for bad maintenance of roads, to electricity department for power fluctuations, to consumer forums complaining about guarantees and warrantees etc.    From him I have learnt, of many things, handling personal finance meticulously. 

A thorough gentleman and an epitome of simplicity, he spoke only when required. He once asked me, if I own a pet and gave a photocopy of a newspaper clipping and requested that I share it with my friends.  I didn’t have friends with whom I could share it and so kept it in my drawer and it remained there for several years.  This newspaper clipping was one of the few things I carried with me, when I left the organization subsequent to an external reconstruction. 

A connoisseur of arts, animal activist, botanical enthusiast, a man with great scientific temper and a successful businessman - MSK passed away in his sleep on the early hours of 6^th January 2012, after living 88 years of principled, disciplined and contended life.

As a tribute, I am sharing the contents from the newspaper clipping he requested me to share with my friends:

New Haven Register, Saturday, July 13, 1996 Page C9

ANN LANDERS’ COLUMN

Question:  Dear Ann Landers:  I am enclosing a poem for all those people who drop their dogs and cats off in the country, hoping they will find another home.  These people should know there are alternatives to abandoning a pet, Maybe this poem will make a difference – Lorna, a Stars and Stripes Reader

Dear Lorna, Thank you on behalf of all pet owners.  I agree that it is not only thoughtless, but cruel to drop a pet off on the highway, hoping someone will pick it up.  Your contribution is sure to make a difference.

A Dog Sits Waiting by Kathy Flood

A dog sits waiting in the cold autumn sun

Too faithful to leave, too frightened to run

He’s been here for days now with noting to do

But sit by the road, waiting for you

He can’t understand why you left him that day

He thought you and he were stopping to play

He’s sure you’ll come back and that’s why he stays

How long will he suffer?  How many more days?

His legs have grown weak; his throat’s parched and dry

He’s sick now from hunger and falls, with a sigh

He lays down his head and closes his eyes

I wish you could see how a waiting dog dies

Please share this poem with your friends as a mark of respect to the departed soul!

CONTROL + C, CONTROL + V

A few days back I went to a photocopy shop to get a copy of my driving license.  The shopkeeper was busy copying a textbook.  As I waited, I remembered that my brother, while he was in college, when he could not get a book prescribed by the University anywhere, borrowed it from his college library and copy-wrote the whole text.  He got so thorough with the content because of this exercise that he never again had to read it for his exams.  I thought of advising the students who were waiting to collect the copies to do a similar exercise, but refrained thinking that it was unethical to do so in a photocopy shop.  When the shopkeeper finished the job and started sorting the copies, I noticed that the size of the text was reduced to the size of a palm.  I have observed in offices when a user of a photocopier enlarges or reduces the standard copy size and doesn’t reset the settings after use, the subsequent user ends up taking the copies as per the previous setting.  Assuming the shopkeeper had inadvertently copied the sheets at a reduced size, I informed the shopkeeper. He did not respond to my comment and continued sorting.  Only when the shopkeeper smiled looking at me through the corner of his eyes while handing over the sheets to the students, I realized that they are bits.  (Bits in student parlance in Tamilnadu are pieces of answer sheets carried on one’s person to examination hall, hidden from the invigilators.  It has a totally different meaning in the adult world.  Now that the “Kolaveri” is a big hit, it is high time the world learns some of the euphemisms in Tanglish.)

For a moment I thought I should advice the boys, but soon changed my mind.  I should confess it is not just because of my resolution not to give unsolicited advice, but also because I was little intimidated by the body language of the over-grown boys.  They probably had read my mind while I tried to read their school name from their badges.  I silently collected my license and the copy and left the shop.

Throughout my student life, I never copied.  Not that I was very principled.  I just didn’t have the opportunity.  My parents were very strict and ensured that we (I and my siblings) didn’t carry our textbooks and notes to school on the days of examination.  They thoroughly checked our pencil and geometry boxes for possible “bits” before we left to the school.  Moreover, I and my siblings studied in the same school and we acted as checks on each other.  Any mischief was reported back home at light speed.  Also, I was caught in the personality cage of a “good girl” and I worked hard to maintain that image. 

On a few occasions while writing exams when I failed to recollect a formula or a phrase in a definition, I looked forward for some prompting from the girls sitting next to me, but I was never lucky.  The girls who were ready to help didn’t have an answer and those who knew, didn’t want to help.  I was initially magnanimous in helping my classmates, but over a period of time, I developed a unique style of writing and so didn’t want anyone to copy my answers.

While I was in my 2^nd year of college, we had a class test.  The lecturer excused herself after dictating questions.  There was a festive mood in the class when the lecturer left the room, which lasted only for a few minutes.  The paper was so tough that none of us knew the answers.  Most of us could not comprehend the questions and could not identify the chapters from which the questions were asked.  Some brave girls opened the books looking for answers, but failed to locate them.  The lecturer returned and collected the answer sheets.  The entire class failed and we had a retest.  The lecturer later said that she wanted us to understand the concept of “open book system” of exams.

Coming to the present, I feel we are all hypocritical.  We happily copy ideas, fashions, technology, content, tunes, designs, trends etc. and with the advancement and penetration of the world wide web, all that we do most is Control + C and Control + V, but insist that the students follow the old pattern of examinations.  Isn’t it time for a change? Why preach what we cannot practice?

HAR EK FRIEND ZAROORI HOTA HAI!

Dedicated to my childhood friends, who made an impact!

D was a year junior to me.  She joined our school when I was in U.K.G.  She was a very bright and hardworking student and by the end of the first term, the school authorities decided to promote her to U.K.G. (as she knew more than the L.K.G. teacher) and so she became my classmate.  D learnt several songs, dances, poems and stories from her mother and as and when she learnt, she performed before the class enthusiastically.  Impressed with a song and dance sequence she performed one day in the class, the teachers decided to include it in the Annual Day Programme.  The song was in a question-answer mode and hence required another performer.  Since I had no stage fear, the teachers decided to make me her partner.  This had upset her.  She tried to influence the teachers by telling them that I wasn’t fluent in Tamil.  The teachers were confident and convinced her that I was a fast learner and I should perform with her.  Reluctantly she taught me.  We rehearsed everyday for more than a month and I had got the pronunciation perfectly.  Everyone predicted that our performance would be the best event.  On the day of the function, I and D got on to the stage and started our performance.  The audience was spellbound and suddenly D stunned me by singing a stanza that was not rehearsed by us.  I didn’t know how to react and remained silent.  She waited for a few seconds and sang on my behalf and concluded.  The audience applauded and even after the screen was down, I stood there trying to reconcile.  My teacher dragged me into the greenroom and asked ‘how can you forget your lines?’  I was sad that though the rehearsals took place in the presence of our teachers, they did not remember the lyrics and also not realized D’s manipulation.  I neither answered to the teacher nor questioned D.  I accepted the blow with a lot of grace and changed my clothes and make-up as I was part of another play that was scheduled for the day.  Spontaneously I learned to move on and not get stuck. 

People like D are present everywhere and seen more in workplaces.  Because of this experience, I am able to handle unhealthy competition with ease.

After I completed my 5^th standard, I joined another school far away from home.  I had to walk for more than a kilometer to reach the nearest bus stand and take a bus to school.  Since I was not very confident to travel alone, I made friends with some girls who lived in the nearby localities and studied in the same school.  We formed a group and went together.  S who was part of this group was also my classmate.  She was very moody, cynical and passed sarcastic comments often. Two years later, my sister too joined the same school.  Though S was very rude and dominating, she was well informed and was good at planning.  She was the one who taught me to always have alternative plans.  When Indira Gandhi died and all buses and trains were cancelled, we had to walk all the way home.  As violence erupted on the main roads, S guided me and the other girls through narrow lanes to reach home. 

Over a period of time only I, my sister and S remained in the group, as the other girls either dropped out, or shifted to other schools/localities.  After my 10^th std., I and S were placed in different sections.  Still we continued to travel together.  S joined NSS and had classes/project assignments after school hours most of the days.  On such days, I and my sister left after school, as the duration of her assignments was indefinite and our parents insisted that we returned home before it was dark.  She knew this well. On a few occasions when my sister had special classes and I was waiting for her, S volunteered to wait.  Probably she was expecting me and my sister also to return the favour, but never expressed it categorically. One evening when she had a class, I and my sister left as usual and as we waited for her the next day, she walked past us.  Assuming that she had not seen us, we chased her and started walking alongside.  She walked very fast and avoided us.  Though I never considered her a great friend, her behaviour was very hurting.  Knowingly I had not insulted her or caused any harm to her, I was very shocked with her behaviour. I asked her why she was upset and tendered a blanket apology.  Still she remained silent.  She has never spoken to me after that.  We went to the same college after school and occasionally bumped into each other in the college corridors or office or library, but never acknowledged each others’ presence.

When I look back and analyze, dumping always happens in the same fashion.  It is first decided and implemented at an opportune moment.

When I joined a new school in my 6^th standard, V became my classmate.  She liked me very much.  She was a little taller than me and hence was not allowed to sit next to me in the first row, though she wanted to.  Majority of our classmates had Tamil as second language, while a few of us studied Telugu.  Those who chose Tamil had their class in our classroom and we (those opted Telugu) had to go to another room.  As we walked, she always held my hand.  There was a severe water scarcity in Madras then and as V lived near our school, carried water for me everyday.  As I was very fond of cold water, she brought water from her refrigerator.    We were very close and inseparable.  When we were in our 8^th standard, V got friendlier with a new set of girls who were a little notorious.  They frequently absented from school, went out without their parents’ approval, made fun of teachers, bullied other girls etc.  One of them also had a boy friend and eloped with him and her parents brought her home after a great struggle. Whenever someone in the class lost money, pens or notes, these girls were suspected.  I was very worried about V and I advised her not to be so friendly with the “bad girls” and she didn’t like it.  V and her friends once managed to steal a question paper from the staff room and a girl who witnessed this had informed me and I advised V. When she turned a deaf ear, I informed her mother about this incident and her friends.  This action of mine alienated V from me completely. 

I still feel that, if I had not tried to control V, I wouldn’t have lost her. Because of this experience, I don’t try to control anyone or give unsolicited advice, however much I am tempted to.

C was also my classmate.  She had a different set of friends initially and got into our group later.  She always pretended to be very innocent and this irritated me very much.  She never understood jokes or at least, that’s how she projected and every time some one cracked jokes or said something, we had to explain it to her.  This diluted the whole effect.  Once when someone shared some information and she didn’t understand, I started explaining and she not only interrupted, but also made fun of me.  I got very angry with my friends who blindly believed that she was very innocent.  I knew she wasn’t.  There was always inconsistency in the information she shared with us.  I was very sharp and had a very good memory.  I cornered her quite often by cross-questioning her.  My only aim was to prove to my friends that she wasn’t as innocent and good as she was projecting herself.  After I started questioning her, C started avoiding me and started influencing my friends because of which they felt I was bullying her.  I didn’t like them branding me a bully and I mellowed down.

It took a while for me to realise that, I have to choose my battles wisely and if I put my heart and soul into fighting over trivial issues, it would not be appreciated.

Childhood is nothing but a prelude to adulthood!

I have learnt a lot from my acquaintances during my childhood.  While I learnt how others’ behaviour affects me from D and S, I learnt how others react or respond to my behaviour from V and C.

Har ek friend zaroori hota hai! La lala la la lala lala la la lala la la lala la……..