Politicians and Godmen

One says I will turn earth into heaven and other says I will take you to heaven and both promise public to wipe away their tears, vanquish their problems and make honey and milk flow in the country. Wow! What a common purpose! Do we call it symbiotic, socialistic or synergistic?

So many of them have come in this country in the past hundred years, in many forms and with names promising (alteast with names) Nithyananda, Premananda, Brahmananda, Paramananda but all disappeared like bubbles while country continues to suffer deeper in poverty, religious violence, and crime.

Both State and Church have been ruling and riling public from the medieval times (medievil?). They stood diametrically opposite and played people against each other to gain power, following and wealth, but over the years they have shed their polarity and have come closer to embrace, entice and enchant.

Sadly spirituality and politics have no barriers to entry and exit, no educational qualifications required, no pedigree or lineage, but if you have one then it becomes a USP, an IP and with just marketing/PR machinery they can get sky high cutouts, God status and speaking slots in World Economic Summit in a few months. Godmen gets access to HNIs across the globe!

Greatest common denominator (GCD) = People
Highest uniting factor (HUF) = Ignorance, Hope, Faith, One cure for all, Wealth creation
Least common denominator (LCM) = Penury, Crime, Unemployment, Peace

Have you ever looked at the Net worth of religious institutions around the world, well if you pool in all the money you can solve most the problems where money is the fuel – unemployment, hunger, infrastructure, etc. Well the Catholic Churches have paid a lot of money to suppress and settle pedophilia and abuse charges outside the court. Nirvana (Nivarana)is available both in cash or kind!

Why do Godmen need all this if they have relinquished all desires – wealth, women and wine? Where do they get this wealth from? Shouldn’t they help people with their emotional quotient? Why are they running educational institutions and hospitals and taking care of people? Isn’t that the duty of State and not Godmen? When wealth and power comes together then begins the war of ego and might. Well that is where things get murky. May be they realized the new age business model “Coopetition” as opposed to competition and cooperation. Did I say scratching each other’s underbelly?

If you wear the logical lens you will definitely see what I am seeing.

Well the business model is really simple; remember every turf comes with rules. Politicians create ashrams and make Godmen as their Binamis just to hive off illegally earned land and money. They look at ashrams as business and Godmen as CEOs to run their spiritual business. Simple business rules – bring the customer in, better if you get them young, with family are wonderful, then retain the customer, and finally rotate money and give back to the Politician when he needs.

They call themselves the king of their jungle, yet they chase the weak fawns but not an elephant or a tiger. Thrive on their weakness! Sadly lion hunting down the fawn seems like the law of nature and the world admires with awe.

One ashram takes MMS route (mantra, meditation and seva) and other takes the SYS route (Service, Yoga, Satsang) in the end most of them are quacks and suckers. Is it preying or praying at the ashrams?

Often Godmen become more popular, powerful, and persuasive than politicians, and that is where the ego war begins pushing them on opposite sides and looking at opportunity to destalibilize each other.

Then comes IT raid, followed by women scandal, rape and drug charges and finally the Godmen is dragged to prison and public is made a fool and politicians’ coffers are filled.

Sri Sris of the world become che che overnight..and public finally with lost hope, abandoned faith and violated trust, wakes up and looks up to the sky for help.

The old ones pushed into the prison – scam and scandal. A new politician emerges on the horizon, a new Godman becomes the messiah, a new USP to lure public, and then finally a new government and things start all again, public forget the past and new crimes, and coffers filled again.

Isn’t Spirituality and Politics a fake promise and a plunge in murky waters?

Farewell to the Princess of Kunniyur

When one of the neighbors came to see her for the last time she remarked at her piety and dedication. “I have watched grandma for a decade now, rain or shine she is busy praying at dawn and dusk”, said Mrs. Malini. Opinions, judgments and remarks never mattered to her now and then. The relationship she had with almighty and with herself seemed paramount and lasting till the end.

I have seen grandma for the past 35 years and prayers have always been a part of her routine. Infact she would drop in a few coins in my piggy bank only if I prayed with her in the morning and evening. She was not buying my devotion with money but rather teaching me to make deposits in the bank for this life and for the next life.

She was hardly 30 when the tempest of the storms turned her life upside down. Her husband was a public figure and the whole city had come to pay respects to him. She didn’t even have her private moments with the man who left her with six children, a few lakhs in debt and a few hundred acres of land to cultivate. Her mother-in-law took her share of the wealth and left the young widow with six kids. She had no choice between cry or care, she had to stop crying and start caring for her little ones immediately.

There was a blanket of peace and ocean calmness on her face as she lay in the hall surrounded by relatives and visitors and waiting for her sons and daughters to arrive. May be she felt peaceful after dispensing all her responsibilities. Even while was in the hospital she would persistently ask me about my marriage plans. It was my marriage that was in her mind more than her ailment. She was always thinking ahead of her times and her outlook was so forward. Many times she said she was okay if I brought home someone outside the caste. Well she knew more about marriage and partnership, I just had to nod my head, not to peace her, but meekly listen to her.

Today she reminded me of the huge busy banyan tree with flowing roots and filled with chirping birds on every branch of the tree. She was mother to six, grandmother to 18 of us and great grandmother to 8 of us, and many to many more. The tree never discriminates; it is birds that decide to either make it their home or just a perching ground.

Her journey of life was not that simple and straight. With six 6 children, the last one was just a few years old, no siblings to support or relatives to even offer words of wisdom and consolation she had very difficult choices to make. A few of the half dozen were sent to her father in Madurai and the remaining was sent to the newly built bungalow in Chennai with a guardian to watch them over while she decided to stay back in the village and manage 300+ acres of land. She was not educated beyond PUC and but where and how did she pick up the art of management – both people and property? When the doctor came out of the ICU at 2 AM he said the last few minutes were very peaceful, though she cried in pain when they ran the peripheral line earlier that night.

Does equanimity come as a result of experience or is it innate? I will never be able to answer this question for you. But equanimity was her companion till the end. Even in the pit of sorrow or in the pinnacle of happiness, she remained grounded. She had considerably distanced herself from outcomes of any event, but never from humanity. Daughters and daughter-in-laws meant the same to her just as sons and sons-in-law.

She had not given an opportunity for the three daughter-in-laws to raise a finger against her. More than giving someone an opportunity to complain she was just too perfect for people to ape, crib or praise. The three could never recall rebuked by their mother-in-law. Freedom was abundant in the house, but never was it misused.

Be it a festival or function at home, she would be the first one to sit down and make plans. But today we were making plans for her final journey. She was the custodian of values would guide the women in the house. Her kitchen, almirah, her room, her prayer room there was decorum and dainty. Her sense of cleanliness and hygiene was impeccable. She presented herself so well that nobody could stay away from admiring her. She kept her distance, but she always left people in awe and admiration.

I have spent so many summers with her and had an opportunity to closely observe her. Her words and thoughts were as orderly as her room and belongings. Measured, right to the context, compassionate, non-judgmental, and unassuming. She knew how to engage with elderly and children. She was both gentle and genteel. In the 35 year I have never heard her speak ill of anyone. We all have a story to say and a script to enact, but still why should we cruelly judge each other? That was her line.

She would spend half hour with the cook in the morning and give instructions on the meal plan for the day. Apart from giving her the menu, she would give her tips to make it more nutritious and tasty. Her prudence and resourcefulness can never be matched.

She spent her afternoons caring for animals and her garden and in her letters she would talk about the new born calves and varieties of hibiscus and vegetables she has planted in the garden. It didn’t matter if I was in Chennai or in Chicago, I would receive a letter from her every month.
After dinner she would spend listening to songs on AIR, talking to her children and writing letters to her grandchildren. Sometimes men from the village would come to her for advice and wisdom, she was just a friend. Those who came for her funeral narrated many incidents of her care and compassion.

When she lived in the village she would visit us alteast twice a year, once during Diwali and during April. Her visit would be like Christmas to the kids. We would have new clothes, fireworks, sweets and unlimited pampering. Every night after dinner and homeworks, we would throng around her for our story hour. Not sure if Oosi pullai story was a legend, but it was a part of the legacy in our family. Every grandchild would know this story. Since we’ve never seen our grandfather we would ask her to share anecdotes from her wedding, her interactions with my grandfather and about the halcyon days. She would still be in the house among all of us, and yet enjoy her personal space and respected ours.

A widow in her 30s, dressed in 9 yards went on the public platform and addressed the political rallies. It was unacceptable for widows to maintain hair and to go out in public with hair and in 9 yards was blasphemy. Many in the family and village criticized her; secretly many women and widows admired her courage and bravado. Her mother-in-law treated her badly, but she never disrespected even when meted with cruelty. Today I see working women struggling to strike a balance between professional and personal life, tradition and modernity, she had mastered the art then. What qualities to admire, what qualities to appreciate, we were always dumbfounded and today we were incessantly starring at her. She didn’t need her diamonds for her journey anymore, she was radiating in goodness and godliness.

She was never short of criticism, aspersions and it came from all corners, sometimes from her sons and daughters. Nothing is more cruel than being misunderstood by your own blood. She stood tall unwavering and unconcerned. Some found her perfection an eye sore, some found their imperfections in her perfection, some found her equanimity troubling, some found her cold and calculative, but yet she managed to live a life of respect and deliver her responsibilities with perfection and mettle.

She was father to six children and duly dispensed the responsibility of finding good partners and caretakers for the family legacy. She was dear grandmother to 18 children and showed us the way to live and lead our life and was a guarding angel for the 8 grand children.

She appeared asleep, but we all knew she would never wake up from this long sleep. She was lying on her right side and her eyes were intently looking at the photograph of her and my grandfather. Together grandfather and grandmother looked like Rathi and Manmathan. It was time for to end the 50 year separation from my grandfather, time to unite with him in spirits. May be my grandfather’s untimely death brought the best in her.

12 grandchildren held the torch high giving her all the respect and love for her next journey, sons got in the van to complete the final rites, while daughters-in-law for the first time felt the weight on their shoulders. They wiped the tears and got back in the house with memories and learnings of their life time. Our “Mummyma” was gone.

The Last Journey

A few years ago my friend’s mother was in terminal stages of cancer. She was at home and bed ridden, sometimes my friend and his father would force her to get on a wheel chair and bring her to the balcony for a whiff of fresh air. Scores of relatives and friends dropped in and left but her constant companions were pain, 30 kg oxygen cylinder and a helper (not a qualified nurse).
She was frail and there was little muscle surrounding the bones and her skin had become tender and developed sores because she stayed in the bed all day and night. She was partially conscious, her hearing was fine but she chose to communicate through hand gestures, eye movements and occasionally used her vocal chords when the pain was unbearable.

My friend and his father were the only two male members in the family and cancer and its side effects were threateningly new to them. It was emotionally consuming to clean and dress the sores and they helplessly watch them grow bigger in size. With no counseling or education it was not a pleasant experience.

All visitors brought sympathy (no prescription needed) apart from Horlicks and oranges, and a few even offered to send cooked meals on a regular basis. Since it was a losing battle, the oncologist would show up occasionally and they only medication was pain killers. A family physician would show up every other day and give her a shot of the pain killer. But none of the doctors spent time with the care givers or the patient.

My friend’s family is just one sample in the population. There are many out there fighting such battles. This battle is not to be won, but to let the loved one pass away in peace and dignity. It is an uphill task for the care givers to go through the experience with the patient without actually playing a host to the disease. Traumas are also memories – would you dispute on that?
Another friend’s mother suffers from Alzheimer’s which is less threatening, but still the immediate family around the patient needs education and training on handling the patient, understanding and attending to her needs. Often care givers misread the effect of illness as tantrum and sometimes don’t pick the signs of other diseases and promptly display their temper and ignorance. Not everyone can be Florence Nightingale and it takes enormous patience, understanding, education, awareness, and agility to serve.

In India, after we bequeath our father and mother with "grandparent" title, we spend very little time observing them, attending to their medical needs and take them for regular health check-ups. Nobody even knows their blood group until they get admitted for some life threatening illness. We lack awareness of old age related diseases and fail to spot them early and give medical care. I had heard about old age diseases like Dementia, Alzheimer’s and Parkinsons, and fail to observe the same in my great grandmother. I realized the effects of dementia when I saw an elderly gentleman in my neighborhood hosting the disease. I know such neurological diseases are not curable, but awareness and education can definitely help the family understand and attend to the patient and community help the family.

None of these people are qualified care givers, they don’t know much about the disease and its side effects. They don’t know the subsequent stages in the disease life cycle, they are not trained to understand and attend to the needs of the patient. Often we don’t appreciate having a nurse or a qualified help and feel guilty about outsourcing responsibilities. Not everyone has all it takes to be a care giver.

In the west, awareness levels are high, support groups for patients and families share experiences and empathize, debriefing sessions are available for caregivers and hospices (literally unknown in India) are available for the last journey. We all know that death is inevitable, but when it is imminent and when the date is fixed we can make the journey less painful to the patient, care givers and the family. Even NY Times ran a story on caring for care givers - http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/22/health/21chen.html?hpw=&pagewanted=all

Can we all do something about it?

Satyam fiasco - One year anniversary

No bombs were dropped, no guns fired, armies were not sent to combat, capture and imprison, but a mere confession made 50,000 lives and their families sleepless, anxious, and brought them to street. Some blamed the CEO, same blamed the Government, some blamed the corrupt politicians, some blamed their bosses, and finally some blamed their fate. But justice seems elusive. Wounds have not fully healed, tear glands are empty while brains are low on dopamine and for many recovery is still faraway destination. Satyam ran the 108 service for public, but when it came to employees emergency there was no 108.

Today is the first anniversary of Satyam fiasco and only 50% of the original head count (28,000) have survived and remain with the company. Some of those who left today are in better jobs; some of them took a pay cut and joined organizations one level below, while many are still unemployed waiting for the market to pick up. Some of them postponed their marriage plans, some postponed their babies, and many of them reinvented themselves for no fault of theirs. If the rest of world went through one recession and economic downturn, Satyamites had a double bonus – recession+ fiasco.

We were shocked when employees were asked to leave against their will. This is like your father asking you to leave the house one morning because he thinks you are an overhead.It was even suprising the way IT companies and HR teams behaved with those Satyam employees seeking employment. I can only compare this with robbery and rape that happened post Katrina in New Orleans. For those who continued to work at Satyam, it is step motherly treatment.

Not everyone gets a chance in life to experience or face this kind of situation. May be we can put on our resume "Satyam Survivors". Not for sympathy, but as a sign of courage and endurance.

On a lighter note, my mother has learnt to read scrips, move her eyes fast to catch the scrolling news and now watches CNBC and NDTV profit. Necessity is the mother of invention or adversity brings the best in people?

A year has gone by and there is still no balance sheet, auditors are still excavating, exploring and discovering the ruins.
365 days have gone by and the accused is still out in the hospital for treatment.
8760 hours have gone by and truth is locked in a dark room protected by Investigation agency and judiciary.

Lessons:
Doesn't matter if you are a star performer or you have the right skill sets or your are from an ivy league or you have been loyal, but when the employer decides, you have no choice but to leave.
Satyam crisis has exposed that employer loyalty exisit only on paper and is rarer than rare elements in the periodic table.
Always have a plan B, in IT parlance "BCP".
You can commit a heinous crime in India and you can still be out.
Bottom line nothing is guaranteed in life. Even for the crime you commit punishment is not guaranteed.

Satyam - What public demands - JUSTICE!

My 2009....

Wow….looking back at 2009…it was an amazing year, lot of journeys both inward and outward, and interesting experiences to cherish for a lifetime. There were moments of cheer, moments of tear, moments of fear and finally some defining moments. I am proud to peel layers and share them with honesty and humility.

Like teachers who pointed fingers at me and posed me with difficult questions, many at times life posed me with such challenging situations. I was the same then and now…blink…blink..
Let us start with travel….

2009 was the year of travel…I started the year in Bali, Indonesia and ended the year in my home in Chennai. Now I know every train stop between Chennai and Bangalore. I did some spiritual meanderings – Sabarimala, Guruvayoor, Tiruvannamalai, Ujjain, Kancheepuram, Trivandrum, Thanjavur, Ashtavinayak, Mysore, and Mathura/Vrindavan. Wish I could redeem the miles on me for something…!

My job was on the path of axe and I was faced with a tough choice between health insurance, EMIs and food and before I was forced to make a choice I was lucky to have my next job. But that is not the case with many. So many thousands lost their jobs, homes, cars and finally had to choose between food and health insurance. I am thankful that I have both now.

Next coming to what I bought in 2009….wow I am a spendthrift and a shopaholic. I had to engage in retail therapy to handle the stress from my precarious job situation. I bought a lot of clothes this year and some of them are still sitting in my closet and inviting me to try them, 3 new pairs of shoes waiting to be worn. I got a lot of music albums and some of them are still unheard and 2 dozen books crying for my perusal and the night on my chest. Is it a sign of abundance or greed?

Not wrapped in shawls or stoles, Chennai is never that cold anyways, my gang went concert hall hopping in December. Music concerts with Ramji and Narashiman are a delight and the gossip we exchange on a piece of paper during the concerts will be preserved and made into a book. From fantasy to frivolous things we discuss everything. These are simple pleasures of life.

I must have watched close to 30 movies in the Cinema halls. Infact my earlier boss made a comment, “If Chandra is not found at Satyam, you can find him at Sathyam”. The former is where I worked and the latter is a cinema hall. Apart from regular cinemas I also attended a few film festivals in the city. I watched every episode of Sex and the City multiple times. Is it an accomplishment? Grin…Grin..Grin..

I joined Facebook for the first time and I quit and again rejoined. Finally I discovered it a waste of time. There is no use in discovering friends and lost colleagues when there is no common interest and purpose. A few deep friendships were better than a few thousands on Facebook. I also discovered that an email was much more personal than a face book scrap though a hand written letter was best. May be this was the mid 30s syndrome?

My father fell ill again and we decided to do everything medically and scientifically possible to treat his recurrent VT. Top notch cardiologist worked on his heart and repaired it. Science and Medicine gave him longevity, but none could predict if VT would recur. Such is life and death, none can predict, promise or guarantee. Destiny stands beyond the boundaries of science.

My nephew spent almost 4 months with us. The little kid (will soon turn 3)taught me what it is be a child at heart, what it is to cover yourself with a blanket of peace, and finally what it is to wake up with twinkle in your eyes and a smile on your lips. He carries nothing from the previous day and every day is a new beginning.

I am really not sure why some people continue to send me birthday cards and New Year cards year after year without fail. Kevin sends me a Christmas card every year and there is never a birthday without Mark’s card. And every time I get an email from Dr. Sink, my heart smiles and my eyes open up. He is my "Morrie". 7 years have rolled by since I moved back from America and I have lost most of my hair and the remaining are almost grey, but for some age, appearance and distance doesn’t seem to matter for some.

As I sit back stare and analyze the year that has gone by…I realize my challenges, shortcomings, negatives, and finally a few positives. 2009 is also the year when I realized that I am growing old and there will be a time when l will have to live without my parents, friends and lifelines. Am I comfortable with the thought? I am not sure and I am still trying to find an answer.

I had my own challenges building, nurturing and growing relationships. Some sprouted with very less work, and some required lot of care and attention. While some with all care still saw death. May be it was all karmic? That is an easy way to take responsibility off my shoulder, but what about those relationships that I have killed without watering and nurturing? Or those that I have mercilessly judged and displayed my impatience to bring on “The end” slide. Beyond my idiocy and eccentricities I still have a few good friends and I am going to work hard to retain them and ask forgiveness to the ones that I have lost.

I didn’t save a penny in 2009 beyond my basic tax planning. You know how I spent it all. I was lavish only when it came to spending money, when it came to expending calories… I was a miser. I wanted to lose 5-7 kilos but I ended up losing zilch. May be I should try to get on a crash diet or find ways to burn more calories and consume less.

All said and done I was spotted in the gym and was invited to do a role in a documentary. Yes, I made my first camera appearance with one of the well known and accomplished Cinematographer/Director.

A cancelled holiday is like a failed relationship. Suddenly my life seemed so empty, dry, unhappy, and deserted. There I was available with unrealized dreams and unfulfilled desires, and with no back-up plans. Any takers? Everyone seems to have a plan for the holiday season and I am not able to fit into anyone’s’ plans. As always I am the puzzle that is never a part of any whole. Is it miserable to spend time in your bed, with yourself, wander, clean up your mess at home and explore the city where you grew up? Can anyone share the coordinates of happiness? Email address, mobile number or Face book link is fine too.

All through the year there are a few things helped me retain my sanity. When I was down it was music, when I was alone it was books, when I was low it was yoga, when I wanted to boost my self esteem it was gym and finally spirituality to bring my disjoint pieces together.

So what do you think of my year? Was it enjoyable? Was it sad? Was it insipid?

2010 is already here and as always I am late with my resolutions and I have already broken some of them.

I have had very less opportunity to teach myself a new skill or tool in 2009. I have already registered myself for Landmark Forum at Chennai in 2010. Hopefully I will attend the program and not chicken out.

I have set myself with a goal of living simple and saving more. My bank balance today is 150 Rs and thank god for helping me cancel my vacation in Turkey. Blessing in disguise!

I have understood that life comes with no guarantee and I would rather express my love, sorrow, gratitude today than wait for tomorrow. I am not trying to be impulsive and critical but rather receptive and open.

I will carefully grow relationships with patience and not judge people for what they are and they are not. I still have not called a friend with whom I had skirmish. New Year wish would be a good excuse to call. Habits die hard!

I hope to blog atleast once a week. I will write on my challenges, my progress, and my achievements (if any) with humility.

Come back and check out if I have made any progress on my resolutions or am I back to my excuses.

I wish you all a wonderful 2010 filled with prosperity, peace, good health and happiness.

Reunion - A trip to horror land

In a passing conversation my friend mentioned about meeting his classmates from school over the weekend and I felt weird and estranged. Another friend of mine fished for his classmates from college on popular networking sites such as Facebook and Orkut. And finally the last guy talked about running into his classmates from Medical school at Delhi Airport. Earlier in the week an email was followed by a phone call from my University in US. They wanted my help in getting together alumnus of URI for a for a reunion party in Mumbai in November 09. My facial expression was contorted upon hearing the planned and unplanned reunions both from friends and from my college. To me anything from the past is a landmine.

Why would many go to reunions? Why would some search for their classmates online? Why would someone even talk when they run into their classmates? I have no positive answers to the above questions and but I have my logic to stay away from high school horror stories.

My school days were traumatic – growing up with a weird feeling inside. I was a target of bully, and often an object of ridicule. Was it because I was smart and caught in their vortex of jealousy? Or was it because I was dumb caught in their trap of derision? You should ask those wicked souls.

I am still trying to understand my tormenting school days – it is really puzzling. The happiest period in a child’s life turned nightmare and I always wanted to grow up asap and get out of this prison called “school”. No fond memories…whatsoever!
I hoped for a fresh lease of life as I opened a new chapter in my book of life. I didn’t want to meet anyone from my school. But the emotional scars from childhood turned me into a bookworm and killed the spirit and joy of college life. I spent 4 years in the company of books, music and a friend. I remember my heat transfer and mass transfer equations more than spirited parties and college tamasha.

Are reunions supposed to be happy, nostalgic and cozy?

When I first joined Facebook earlier this year, the site ran algorithms from my personal data that I shared and pulled up the list of alumni from both my school and college. The novelty of Facebook made me connect with a few, but then I realized that we had nothing in common but the distant past which I am still working to come to terms with. Most of them were in cushy jobs, excelled in their profession and personal life was no short of success, they were married with kids, driving expensive cars, and I had nothing in common with them.

All the lost years didn’t take us anywhere. After a few conversations we were still strangers and we couldn’t relate then and now. I finally ditched the idea of befriending strangers from my school and college. I deleted them from my list without a second thought and sympathy. Even virtual reunions failed! May be we were better off being disconnected.

When I walked into my new job this year I remembered I had a classmate from school working for the same company. We were bench mates and we got yelled at by our Math and Chemistry teachers. I wanted to share my specs of nostalgia over a cup of coffee with him and feel proud how far we’ve travelled in life. I was in a double mind if I should get in touch with him and talk about our illustrious past, but finally I gave in. I expected him to be the same bench mate, but this time in my life. We had one great conversation, and then he invited me to his house for his second kid’s birthday. I knew I would feel out of place, I never had any baby anecdotes to share and I would be looked upon like an alien. After the first meeting, I never get a call back from him. I tried reaching him a few times, and I am waiting to hear from him.

I realized over the years we’ve all grown apart and there is nothing in common to discuss even after so many years separation. Our lifestyles were different, our hobbies were as far apart as desert and mountain, they were all caught up in changing diapers, chauffeuring in-laws, and scheduling immunization shots for their babies. I can understand the responsibilities and vagaries of married life, but neither can I complain, sympathize nor participate. I felt we were opposite vertices of a triangle.

The reunion thingy has never worked for me. “Friends reunited” is sadly an oxymoron. Some of them wanted to scratch me and assay below the surface. Some want to autopsy my life, rate my success and happiness, but I could not let anyone do that to me. I’m not the kind who would assess their happiness, success and compare to make myself feel better. More often I was sad after these reunion meetings.

There is no common denominator to crib and laugh, but more reasons to feel sad, old and incoherent. What is the use of such reunions when two people feel disconnected and discordant?

Are we looking to validate our unlived life at reunions? Do you want our friends to appreciate and recognize our lives, achievements and our lifestyle? Reunions seem to work for people who’ve done extremely well for themselves and for them it is flaunting their success, wealth, but for the ones who’ve not made it to top, reunions are sore spot and report cards that show their failed life.

I have the power to see, sift and choose my friends. And today I feel it is much easier to make new friends than searching for ones lost in the past. It is easier to find someone who will fit your soul, life and the present you.

Is it just me or are there many out there who feel the same?

A tribute to Gopali

At 82 his spine was bent, bags below his eyes, edema in his legs, his activity levels reduced, but his sense of hearing and eye sight was just fine and voice was never short of cheerfulness and enthusiasm. The last time he was hospitalized for hernia surgery doctors were not happy with his heart condition – fist size pump in his chest had slowed down considerably. When I visited him a few hours after the surgery, he asked me to sit beside him and he held my hand. The same hand that gave me my first glass of milk for 20 years, the hand that gave me an oil bath Saturdays, and hand that rubbed Neem leaves over my body when I was down with chicken pox. I massaged his legs, but he pulled them back and I was shocked at his reaction. It was those legs that pedaled the in the sweltering heat and brought my lunch for 12 years, the very legs that drove me to the neighborhood park when I was young. His eyes were closed, the effect of anesthesia was weaning but his lips kept murmuring tales from my childhood and he punctuated every sentence with a blessing for me.

Gopali, as we call him is more a family member than a caretaker. Sixty years of service or should I say sixty years of nurturing our family tree and seeing 4 generations of our family grow and cherish. My dad was hardly a year old when he came home in 1949. Not sure if he was sent by God, but hardly 10 years after his arrival my grandfather passed away. My grandmother was the only daughter and Gopali stood besides the family like her brother for 60+ years. He moved with the kids to erstwhile Madras and took care of my dad and his siblings and that continued for 60 years. The only male member in the family after my grandfather. Wow!

A palatial house, few cars, half a dozen cows, 2 dogs and 6 children, the man was both mother and father. He has nurtured our family tree for 4 generations and still the love and care for the family has not reduced an ounce. He was a mother to the fatherless children, grandfather to us and great grandfather to the 3rd generation kids. Dropped them at school, brought them lunch, picked them in the evening and stayed late till they all went to bed. He never let an insect get near any of us and would always watch kids in the house like a Hawk. This continued for 3 generations, with love and care. This seems like something beyond gratitude.

He was not only a member in the family, he was a midwife to the cattle in the house, a friend to both the dogs in the house, and he was everything everyone wanted. With all these responsibilities he never had a minute to think about his life, marriage and kids. Atlast, he was forced to get married in his early 50’s, and to him marriage was more a companionship than have children and grow his family tree.

Whenever Gopali fell ill (fever, cold, Malaria) kids would visit him multiple times a day to enquire about his health and sit around him and hear anecdotes. It could be stories from the 40’s, days of annas, paisa, furlong, his admiration for my grandfather, narrate my father’s childhood pranks. It was definitely a trip down his memory lane. Ancestral stories are always pride and ego boosters. He is a repository of all our family details, important occasions, events, etc.

How can there any festival without Gopali. Be it Navrathri, he would be the first one to talk about it month in advance and get dolls from the attic and decorate the steps single handedly, be it Diwali he would buy fireworks and sun dry them every day and the day before he would never rest his eyelids. He would be up by 1 am in the morning and make hot water in the huge copper vessel on the traditional brick lined stove in the backyard and be it Pongal a week before he would start painting horns of cattle and getting ready for the festival. More than the festivals and festivities it was his hype and happiness that we remember and will recant.

A healthy, clean, and extremely active lifestyle (even at the age of 80 he went around the town in a bicycle) kept diabetes, blood pressure, dementia, Alzheimer’s and other age related illness at bay. They always say selfless soul don’t suffer and depart quickly. A fortnight ago during his regular morning ablutions he banged his head in the toilet. The fall and head concussion had given rise to thrombus, the embolization brought his weak heart and pulmonary system to a halt the same day by midnight.

A selfless human and an angel that guarded the family for 60 years was gone. I still don’t have an answer for the question – what bonded us? When some lives end they end with a big question for the rest to answer. Was it just love and affection or was it unbreakable karma?