Tribulations of Lord Shiva!

I heard my wife sing a song one day. The Pallavi went like Thandhai Thai Irundhal ulagattil umakkindha thazhvellam varumo ayya?

Immediately smitten by a song of profound meaning, I asked her to tell me the whole song and found out from her that this was in an old CD of mine, a collection of songs by N C Vasanthakokilam.

The song that captivated my mind with wonderful imagery and snippets from the past was penned by Sri Ponnaiah Pillai. He inturn based his research on the Periya Puranam.

Below is the rough translation (can do no justice to the lyrical beauty expounded in beautiful tamil by Ponnaiah Pillai), of the song set to Raaga Shanmukha Priya.

thandhai thaai irundhaal ulagattil umakkinda thaazhvellaam varumo ayyaa

anda migunda shri ambala vaanare arumaiyudane petru perumaiyudan valharttha

Would you have undergone such tribulations had you had Parents who lovingly gave birth to and proudly raised the temple resider who fills the whole universe?

kallaal oruvan adikka udal shilirkka kaalin sheruppaal oru vaedan vande udhaikka

One hit you with stones and a hunter kicked you with his feet wearing slippers

villaal oruvan adikka (gaandhibhamenum) kooshaamal oruvan kai kodaaliyaal vetta

One hit you with a bow (called Gandiva) and another shamelessly chops you with an axe.

koottatthil oruvan pittaa paeyaa ena thitta veeshi madurai maaran pirambaal adikka

And in a crowded place, one abused you as a mad man and a ghost and the king of wide spread Madurai caned you

anda velai yaarai ninaindhiro ayyaa

When all this happened who did you think off?

Thandhai thaai irundhal ulagattil umakkinda thaazhvellaam varumo ayyaa

Would you have undergone such tribulations sir, had you had Parents

Now, It was too much for me to resist from finding about the ones who heaped such travesty on Lord Shiva and perhaps trace out the place where it happened.

For people like me, it is easy from childhood bed time stories that the hunter who kicked shiva with a shoe adorned leg was Kannappa nayanmar. And the name Gandiva itself is a straignt give away that it was Arjuna who hit Shiva with a bow. And it was Pittukku Man sumandha padalam (the episode of carrying sand to build the dam on vaigai river in return for rice cake) where the Pandiya king Arimarthana pandian, caned Shiva. And for movie buffs, who'd watched Thiruvarutchelvar starring Shivaji, one knows it was Sundaramurthy nayanmar who called Shiva a mad person and a devil himself. One can't associate Axe with anyone other than Parashurama himself.

However, I had no clue of who hit Shiva with stones. And the thought was gnawing me for weeks. Who? Why? Where? What? And the search engines were working overtime.

Thanks to my wife again, the person was traced out to be Saakkiya Nayanaar.

Having found out all the persons, It was interesting to find out the stories of each episode and perhaps find out any part of history lost in translation.

The subsequent posts will explore the 5 episodes separately and try to trace the events to the place and time they happened.

Lastly, if not for the great periyapuranam that's 1000s of years old (during the Idai changam of Madurai of the past), such interesting episodes would have remained as myths....

Let us look at Arjuna's act first....

Our Lost Legacy - Part 3

Udaipur - The city of lakes. The heart of Mewar. A city rich in legacy, art, culture and stories of the Ranas. Lake Pichola is undoubtedly the star attraction with various shops and point of interests dotted all around it. There is a huge foreigner attraction here and there are hotels where they repeatedly screen the Bond flick Octopussy. Yes, Octopussy was shot in Udaipur.
I zeroed down on Karohi Haveli for a stay here and explored all of the city by foot mostly. Every corner has surprises waiting to grab your attention.
Here's some sneak peak of Udaipur.

The grand durbar hall at Udaipur Palace


Jag Nivas

Karohi Haveli - the place where we stayed

Udaipur Lake Palace - now a hotel

Dance of the Bawai

The Puppet Show

Mor Chowk at City Palace

Our Lost legacy - Part 2

Rani Ka Vav
Behind this architectural marvel, resides a love story lost in time. While the rest of the world celebrates the Taj to be the epitome when it comes to monument for love, Rani Ka Vav is a beautiful poem, very subtle and is a tribute not just to love. It was also a period where women of India walked with pride and equality. This, is from a Queen in memory of her husband.
Some of the pictures from Rani ka Vav
It is all about War


And Love (Manmadha with his bow and arrow)


Finest stepwell, that is in the pending UN heritage list

The geometrical patterns on the walls

And every column had a sculpture beckoning you.

Our lost legacy - Another trip to the glorious past!

Our lost legacy - Another trip to the glorious past!

5 days of consecutive holidays were up for Deepavali. It was planning time on yet another trip. I needed to get away from the fireworks. Further I wanted to spend all the time with my daughter and show her things she'd enjoy and learn things from. This time I singled upon Udaipur as the place.
To make the trip more fruitful, I roped in two of the finest ancient structures of north Gujarat in to the itinerary - The Sun temple at Modhera and Rani Ka Vav at Patan. I'd further booked a nice haveli at Udaipur overlooking the Pichola lake. Apart from Udaipur Palace, the Puppet show and the Rajasthan traditional dance was high on my todo list along with a promised shopping tour for antiques and art materials.
My car had the complete suspension work done. I was looking forward to the long drive from home to the first stop - Mehsana.
Here are some teaser pics before I start on the travelogue.
The pillars that still stand testimony - Sun temple at Modhera

A reflection of our glorious past - Sun temple Modhera


Ancient treasures - Sun temple Modhera

The stepped tank at Sun temple - Modhera

The mighty elephants that carried the world - Sun temple Modhera

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