Kanavu ulaga sanchaari

கண்களை மூடிக்கொண்டு கனவுலகில் சஞ்சாரிப்பவர்களில் நானும் ஒருவன் . ஆயினும் சராசரி மனிதனைப்போல நான் கனவு காண்பதில்லை. அதற்க்காக, புரட்சி செய்ய வேண்டும், ஒவ்வொரு செயலிலும், அர்த்தம் இருக்க வேண்டும், உலகுக்கு நானே முன்னுதாரனமாக இருக்க வேண்டும் என்ற பகல் கனவு கான்போருடன் சேர விருப்பம் இல்லை. எனது கனவுகள் எல்லாம் ஒரு சிறு கவிதை போல் இருக்கும். அதில் ஒரே ஒரு வில்லங்கம் தான். எழுதி முடிக்கும் முன்பே, தூக்கம் கலைந்து விடும்.குழந்தையின் சிரிப்பை காண்பதென்றால் ஒரு அலாதி பிரியம். உலகம் முழுவதும் குழந்தைகள் மாத்திரம் இருக்க மாட்டார்களா என்ற ஏக்கத்திலேயே கனவு உலகில் சஞ்சரிப்பேன். பார்க்கும் இடம் எல்லாம் பசுமை. கேட்கும் ஒலி எல்லாம் மழலை. சிரிப்பு ஒலிகளுக்கு நடுவில் நான். உலகில் போரும், பிணியும் பட்டினியும் கிடையாது. குழந்தைகளின் கள்ளமற்ற சிந்தனைகள் தாம். அந்த பகல் கனவில் இருக்கும் போதே நானும் சிரிப்பேன். பக்கத்தில் இருப்பவர் அதிர்ந்து ஆறு அடி தள்ளி போவார். பாவம், நிஜமான உலகத்தில் வாழ்பவர் போல இருக்கிறது. பயந்து ஒதுங்குகிறார்.இயல், இசை, நாடகம் என்றால் மறுபடியும் கனவு உலகில் சென்று விடுவேன். கவிதை வறி கூட வேண்டாம். ஓம்கார சுருதி இருந்தாலே போதும். இன்பம் தாண்டவம் ஆடும் அந்த முத்தமிழில் என்னை மறந்து, நிலை மறந்து, மெய் மறந்து, கண்மூடி லயித்து கிடக்கும் தருவாயில், என்னை அறியாமல் வரும் புன்சிரிப்பை கண்டு அருகில் இருப்பவர்கள் வியப்பார்கள். ஐயோ பாவம், முற்றிவிட்டதோ என எண்ணி சிலர் அனுதாபத்துடனும், அய்யய்யோ முற்றிவிட்டது போல இருக்கிறதே என்ற பீதியுடன் சிலரும், ஆஹா, முதிடுதுடா சாமி என்று எள்ளி நகையாடி சிலரும் எழுந்தோடுவார்.இறை மீது இருக்கும் பற்று அதிகரிக்கும் போது, உண்ணும் இரையும் மறந்து கிடக்கும் வேளையில் , மனம் குதூகலத்தில் , எனை அறியாமல், வாய் திறந்து புலம்பி இருக்கிறேன். இரை ஏந்தும் கைகளை கண்டு சில நேரம் வெட்கி தவித்து, ஐயோ, நம்மை போல பெருசாழிகள் இருப்பதால் தானே இவரை போல பிச்சைகாரர்கள் இருக்கின்றனர் என்று வேதனை பட்டதுண்டு. அவ்வப்போது, கண்ணீரும் வடித்ததுண்டு . அவர்கள் மத்தியில், வீம்புக்கு உழைக்காது, ஏமாற்றி பணம் பறிக்கும் பகல் கொள்ளை காரர்களிடமும், பிச்சை போட்டு ஏமாற்றமடைந்து வாய் திறந்து சபித்ததுண்டு. வறுமையை பார்த்து, இறையிடம், பஞ்சமும், பிணியும், பட்டினியும் போக்க கூடாதா என்று மன்றாடியதுண்டு. அதை கேட்ட நண்பர்கள், உன்னை திருத்தவே முடியாது என்று தலையில் அடித்துக்கொண்டு போகும் போதும், பாரதி கண்ட நவீன பாரதத்தை கனவுலகில் கண்டு கண்ணீர் சிந்தி இருக்கின்றேன்.நான் கோழை. கனவுலகில் மாத்திரம் வாழும் கோழை. உண்மை உலகம் எனக்கு புகட்டும் பாடங்களை புறக்கணிக்கும் கோழை. நிஜமான மனிதர் எல்லாம் மாந்தர்களே என்ற உண்மையை புறக்கணிக்கும் கோழை. என்றாவது விடியும் என்ற கனவை மாத்திரம் துரத்திக்கொண்டு இருக்கின்ற என்னிடம், விடியலை தேடும் சக்தி இல்லை, தைரியமும் இல்லை. ஆம். நூற்றுக்கணக்கான இந்தியர்களில் நானும் ஒருவன். ஒவ்வொரு தினமும், கனவில் தொடங்கி, கனவில் முடியும் எனது வாழ்க்கை. என்னால் ஆனா இரண்டு காரியங்கள் - ஒளிமயமான எதிர்காலத்தை கனவில் வடிப்பதும், உலகத்தில் எப்படியும் வாழலாம் என்பதற்காக அடுத்தவர் குடியை கெடுக்காமல் இருபதும் தான். ஒவ்வொரு கனவிலிருந்தும் விழிக்கும் தருவாயில், ஏதோ இதை போல் பிதற்றுவதுண்டு.

To Live Like a Bird

You know what the ship really means? It means freedom - Capt Jack Sparrow

I was browsing through my old album, when I came across the photo you see on the right. Most often, I don't prefer getting on the front of the lens. Most often when I do end up, it's always in a pensive mood that people capture me. But this one is moved from the norm. It reminds me about the trip to Batam. Where I had no destination in mind, nothing planned, not looked forward to do anything particular. Just packed up my back, picked my passport and got on that cruise from Singapore harbour.

High seas and waves and ship do really bring the joy to the body and spirit. I could remember the song from the movie Aayirathil Oruvan (One Amongst a Thousand), starring MGR. There was this song where he swings on those ropes in his ship - Adho Andha Paravai Pola Vaazha Vendum (we need to live like that bird over there). Idho Indha Alaigal Pola Aada Vendum (we should dance like these waves here). I realised what true freedom was when I boarded this cruise with no specific plans. All I knew was I was headed to the nearest port in Indonesia, a tiny Island called Batam. There was no planned itinerary. I didn't know where I'd be staying there. What I could get to eat there. What I will do for the next two days. Just get out of the material world, cried my mind. And the body obliged. And Batam had offered visa on arrival. So it was a perfect weekend with no plans whatsoever. The next 1.5 hours was pure bliss. The cruise was amazing. The winds were really powerful, tossing my hair all around. The mere thrill of just living life as it would come with nothing filled in your calendar was revolting. And as Singapore disappeared in to oblivion and the coast of Batam grew on me, all I could think was just two lines. Adho andha paravai pola vaazha vendum. Idho indha alaigal pola aada vendum. More about Batam in my next blog. For now, I will cherish those 90 minutes of pure freedom!

Mani

The Zing that Sunk

I recollect those old days, when I was in primary school. Home was a short walk through un-metalled road, that passed through the back side of then then Parle Bottling company, with it's erstwhile main product that captivated the figment of my imagination - Gold Spot, the zing thing. I used to walk up to the back door of the factory gates, and take a peek through the gaps in the asbestos sheets, which adorned the material management gate, and thousands of bottles stacked over each other, containing this sparkling, fizzy orange drink. Being a kid has it's own advantages. The kind factory workers would call me in, which would be answered with a shy no, for which the obvious question used to follow. Goldspot venuma? (You want a gold spot?)I don't know what involuntary reaction triggered the response, but then my eyes used to bulge out in sheer excitement of having the zing thing in my hands. Most often, I used to say venaam (No) and run away home, not minding the traffic on that little alley. I was always my mother's pampered little boy. I knew that my quota of goldspot used to come from the mini bread house right opposite our house. That guy was my friend too. He had this little account only for me. I remember asking my mom, screaming in a feverish pitch, as I used to run out from home, ready to play, "Goldspot vaangikkava?". The first stop was mini bread house if the answer was affirmative. I'd never received any pocket money till I reached university. Never had the need too. All I wanted was goldspot and butter biscuits which were readily available from Mini bread house when my mom said ok. And she used to pay for what I bought the time she visited the shop. Being a kid has a lot of advantages, especially a lot of goodwill when you grow up for over 15 years in that neighbourhood. 1993 came. There were two important changes in my life. I moved from school to college. I moved from home to 1000 kms away in to a hostel. And with that my association with goldspot came to an end. For goldspot bid adieu and made way to the now famous fanta. Parle was taken over by the cola giant, coca cola. What's in a name? Well, for 15 years I knew this drink as gold spot. It was in my blood. Fanta? Naahhh. Didn't appeal to me. It marked the end of an era. I seldom realised that the cola wars fought on international grounds would wipe out the Indian soft drink industry. The domestic heavy weights were routed in no time just because, pepsi and cola could pump in billions in their advertising strategies to show the poor Indian cousins as unwelcome guests in a house. I didn't realise it then. For me, it was just that goldspot ceased to exist. College got me to taste a remarkable cola. It was called Bajal. The local drink of coastal Karnataka. I'd seen gold spot prices rising from 2 rupees to 6, in the span of 15 years. But to find Bajal available at 1.5 in 1993 was a thrill. My thirst for goldspot was quenched by Bajal, which was affordable, refreshing and so belonging. But come 2000, Bajal was closed. No. They weren't sold out. They just closed down. Cola and Pepsi were captivating the minds of all youngsters. 10 bucks for a drink was so cool, as it was very modern and trendy to pose with coke and pepsi. We had everyone from film stars to cricket players to wannabe celebrities coming on screen every 15 mins in over 100 channels urging us to gulp down their brand of cola. Pepsi vs coke ensured that Bajal and a host of other domestic drinks were destroyed beyond comprehension. I remember catching up with ads in tv as a kid of brands like Kalimark, which had the flagship trio, solo and bovonto drinks. I'm not sure whether they exist now. Maybe they followed the path of Goldspot. Or maybe, they are traded in rural markets, far from the maddening crowd, where people still don't know what the cola is or where people can't afford anything more than a 2 rupee drink. The good old Goli Soda and Panneer Soda still makes it rounds in the villages. Yes, two mad elephants moved to a fertile grassland and had a mighty fight as to who is more powerful. All they left behind was ruins, demolishing all that came the way, demolishing homes of local creatures, killing any that came under their foot. Beyond all, what has happened is, after 15 years since the cola war started in India, they've left like me countless people who have lost the remembrance of a taste, a taste of childhood. A taste once called Gold Spot - The Zing thing. I've not taken to any of the cola drink. The domestic drinks were substituted by fruit juices and plain milk with no sugar. But when I think of the golden era of 2 decades ago, the message is loud and clear. The Zing was sunk.

Mani

Valluvar in cricket

Amazing. I just logged in and saw that India ended the winning streak of Australia in test matches by an amazing upset win in perth, considered Australia's backyard. Reason? I can only think of one thing which valluvar told ages back.
Adakkam Amararul uikkum Adangaamai
Aarirul Uithu vidum.
Nice.
Mani

Satsangatve Nissangatvam

Project management can be a bloody mess. Being a software engineer has taken me as close as possible to being liberated from worldly matters. Initially, I used to go through the standard phases of the life cycle of a software engineer - pun intended. Join, sit on bench, attend trainings, get in to the most useless project, fight for release, resign to fate, fight for onsite, resign to fate, go abroad, enjoy life, have dollar dreams, come back, get married, flaunt the newly acquired parvenu status, join a new (mostly useless) project, fight for.......
One day my life took a sudden turn. It anyway has to right? I'd become a manager. And being a manager gave me new responsibilities and powers. Slowly I realised, the powers are useless, and the responsibilities are actually burdens. I started appreciating spider man movies on a more philosophical level than before. Countless days I used to look in to the mirror and tell myself that "with power comes great responsibility". I was a Peter Parker myself. The most wronged man, yet a super hero. A person who carries the burden of the world on my shoulder easily, but would cringe at the thought of the numerous self problems. Yes, I could implement any system, manage any team, get any work done, convince anyone, sell any idea, but could never keep myself happy with what I achieved. Every obstacle was viewed as a potential pitfall. I lost my plain and sweet sense of humour and suddenly became sarcastic. I lost that warm smile, which was replaced by a cocky smug hmmmf kind of an expression. I suddenly realised, I was myself. Sleepless nights followed. Do I keep myself happy and simple and down to earth, or do I continue taking giant strides in this extremely competitive world?
One fine day all came crashing. Health lost, humour lost, inner peace lost, I realised that professional growth needs to be planned on basic dogma of your firm beliefs. One needs to be flexible within rigid boundaries. No compromise on the persona you were developed in to by the family and friends, which appealed the company that recruited you in the first place, only to find that, all faded away to leave a monstrosity of an extremely mechanical existence. Go back to the drawing board. Why keep moving in the same company of all the frustrated software engineers?
go towards liberation. Let a Monday morning walk to the office feel like a Friday evening bhajan session in the temple! That's when Shankara revisited me. His concept of Advaitha looming large over my drooping shoulder, trying to elevate me.
All this is Maya. Purpose of life is to realise the supreme self. Aham Brahmasmi. And the simplest way of leaving material world behind is elucidated in this verse. Ah, the title needs to be fitted somewhere right?
Satsangatve Nissangatvam, Nissangatve Nirmohatvam
Nirmohatve Nischalatatvam, Nischalatatve Jeevan Muktih.
Hear all ye software engineers! why boast who works for which company? Who commands what salary? Who's market value is what? Who has travelled how many times around the globe? Who has a green card, H1, WP, countless needless other things? Who works on what technology? whether support is inferior to development? who is better a programmer or a boss? All needless arguments.
That's when I decided to immerse in the world of bhajans. With proper company comes detachment. When detached, the mind is free of all worldly passions. when free of all passions, we reach the exalted stage of absolute stillness of mind, thought and philosophy. That, I realised is the path to liberation, as Shankara aptly puts it.
For people who still keep comparing of technology, salary, work, company, material benefits, which had me in that group ages back too, there's answer from Shankara. The second verse of the same song of which one paragraph I've typed above.
Yes. Samprapteh Sannihite kaale, Nahi nahi rakshati dukrin karane.

Mani

(the author is currently in the exalted status of self realisation, and will soon come down to worldly levels when the next deadline/ delivery date comes up. Expect more such articles till then!)

Wild Co. - Da Maadu

Wild Co. (Da Madu)....

This was the ethnic board perched upon D20 B3. Designer name board for our home and our group. We'd not figured the etymological reasoning of the nomenclature till one fine night when a bovine creature occupied our block and refused to move out. It was then we understood that there was a Silent W in Wild Co.... And Da Madu in a mixture of Tamil and English meant The Cow.... Sept brought the clouds focussed right over the D Blocks and we were rushing back to hostel rather late in the night after a great philosophical movie screened in Bioscope (starring Mithun). Gunz and Roomz (The ones who despise the rains) ran directly in to the blocks while I took my time ambling in the rain. Gunz came a cropper suddenly and a scream escaped his lips as he noticed something sitting in the middle with two green eyes shining. It took him time to realise that this didn't pop out from space as it was quite dark. Get out you mangy old dog he screamed and suddenly felt some kind of soft tissue caressing his legs leaving a residue of saliva sticking all over. He jumped out startled and broke in to a paroxysm of rage. I switched the lights on, while Roomz stayed huddled to the door waiting to run at any eventuality. We were greeted by the bewildered sight of a calf that was just taking shelter from the rains. The poor thing pondered over why Gunz was screaming like a madman. Roomz and I decided to retire to our rooms. Gunz was determined to drive the poor ungulate out. Inspite of our repeated pleas (and threats) to leave the animal alone, Gunz proceeded poking and prodding it with a stick and making all kinds of noises (ranging from Baa baa to get the hell out of here you stinking **&#@*^ #^&*#&). The calf barely budged. Then something hit Gunz and he screamed Surekha Surekha (claims to be the desi version of Aristotle). He came up with a warped version og theory of buoyancy... It's not weight that displaces water, it's water that'll displace weight. He came with a bucket of water and sploshed it on the poor cow, egging it to vacate the no man's land. Something seemed to have triggered some thing in the cow. It got up and promptly shook of all the water by vibrating it's skin (Gosh, how do cows get to do that?) and promptly lifted the tail. And Gunz wanted the corridor to be spotless so he screamed and put the bucket beneath the cow to collect all the dung. That enraged Roomz. Who would like to see their bucket filled with manure? Chaos reigns. I say to myself every night, "Why is my block like a gaulish village that just had a fish thrown on some one's face?" I thought the best way to end this was to evict the illegal immigrant. It's better to deal with the cow than with Gunz. So I joined the party soon. My task at hand was to ensure that this chap doesn't do any more crapping around in the corridor. Then he makes the most dignified exit. I tried all the old techniques Rajkumar tried in his movies to drive out the village belles who surround him. No way. The animal would not budge. We are firm believers of non-violence. So the only way we thought was to psyche him out. What if we bring more and more of buckets and frighten to throw water over it and not actually throw water over it? Sounded cool. So there we all came with empty buckets in out hands enacting the throwing of water over the cow. We managed to succeed a bit. The cow was alarmed. Not at us trying to frighten with water. But with all the colourful buckets moving randomly in air!!! Gotcha said I. Lemme show it what jurassic park looks like. I wore one bucket as a helmet, rather should I say it covered my whole head. Couldn't see a thing, but who cares. I put my legs in two other buckets, covered my hands with two more. And made wierd motions in air and came charging from behind with the noise that a dino makes. That was too much for the poor cow/calf. It soon jumped out and charged out of our block, knocking Roomz on the way out. Gunz was delighted. All was fine in our block. We had the freshies clean out the cowdung the next day. Gunz and Roomz slept peacefully that night. As for me, I kept tossing around in my bed. It wasn't the guilt of driving a poor animal that troubled me. It was all the screams of my fellow mitians from D23 A block apparently shocked over the sudden appearance of a cow that refused to move out the whole night!
Mani

p.s. Names of my roomies are changed to Gunz and Roomz for sake of anonymity as well as special request from the cow!

Sandhya Raaga

One fine day, I just picked up my camera and moved out of London. With no destination in mind, I just ambled along, where my feet took me and realised that at the end of the day, I ended up in Greenwich, far from the metropolis, far from hell. The place was absolutely still, giving me a feeling of a totally different world. The evening sky was in all it's golden hues. Bewitching beauty beckoned me yonder. The sky is the limit? Nah, the sky has no limits. No boundaries. The colours had no boundaries. The pristine air had no boundaries. The spirit has no boundaries. How I wish I could soar over these mighty skies and disappear in to that distant horizon?

Even stillness is beautiful. When there are so many beautiful things, why do we look at the despicable ones? When there are good things to hear, why do we tune our hearing to plain rubbish, drivel, nonsense and still relish them? When there are so many good things to talk about, why do we talk gibberish? Reminds me of what the poet saint Tiruvalluvar said - Iniya Ulhavaaga Innadha kooral, Kaniyiruppa kaai kavarndhatru. Nature brings me back in my memories all the great things I read as a kid. It takes me further away from the material world. Further away from the rush and tension of this mechanical mundane existance. It takes to an elevated spiritual level and exhalted status of happiness. Wants me to thank the god for making those colours, for making the skies, for making the vast world, for making me and for making me comprehend and enjoy his creations.

And when I think of all this, there comes a thin stream of music wafting in the breeze. The evening raaga. A distant strain. As time goes and dusk falls, the raaga gets more soothing. It started as Mohanam, vibrant, and changed to mohana kalyani the soothing. When everything else disappeared in to oblivion, and the eyes could see nothing but pitch black, it transformed to neelambari. Sight, sound and breath was now sombre, and my eyes struggling to keep awake, sleep embraced me. Another night. But a more peaceful sleep, to calm the nerves. Sleep, sweet child in me. For the morrow is yet another crazy day in this mundane existance.

Mani