Archive for August, 2008

17
Aug
08

Some conspiracies are hatched with purpose. Some purposes last.

Do I see one or do I see many; Rasaleela.

Krishna is an iconic figure in Indian mythology. He was the master plotter in a conspiracy which has more than one invisible dimension. After all these years Arjuna is still the hero nonpareil, an example, an inspiration, a motivation, a someone to emulate.

The prima facie dimensions of the conspiracy are common sitting room discussions; Krishna’s critical moot points that aroused Arjuna from his eleventh hour gloom, Krishna’s complicity in burning the Khandava and the subsequent gifting of the Gandiva to Arjuna by Agni and Varuna, Krishna’s coy all along the exile. For sure he is a conspirator par excellence.

Let us not get into an argument on the truth of our great stories, whether something of those sorts occurred? It would kill the discussion.

That for now is a given.

Arjuna was made to travel the length and breadth of Bharathavarsha in Bharatha. First as a punishment for infringing Draupadi’s time with his brother; then as part of the exile; then an exile within the exile; and then countless post war forays into the Indian heartland. Even today through out the Indianscape one can hear stories related in the name of Arjuna; his deeds swell in surfeit. Countless instances have been deliberately inserted into the Bharatha to give ample space and time for Arjuna to have had been everywhere and anywhere. All other competition to our hero was compromised elsewhere and else-wise.

Now I wonder, was Krishna the real conspirator? Rather I would say, the men of the past ages who brought up this mega-epic; who penned these magnificent enriching stories; who narrated it down our lineage, they made up the conspiracy. They gave Arjuna the place in our stories, the time to have traversed the whole of our motherland. They made it possible for him to have become a part of every folklore.

Now I know that the temple town of Tripunithura and the legend surrounding the Poornathrayeesan is part of that conspiracy. That Arjuna descended the Deccan onto the western coastline of the sub-continent is no matter of chance, no routine goings –on of his time. The legend itself is a drama that baffles human imagination; let us keep that for another day.

For now, what matters is that Arjuna was made to carry that ‘vigraham’(idol) in his quiver, was assisted by Ganapati and was instrumental in fixing the place to keep the idol and ‘bring up’ the temple.

ha, That sweet whiff of carbon in my temple-town at night.

Walk along the by-ways of the Tripunithura temple-town at night and you can whiff the carbon in the air and say, “Yes, Arjuna was here some days ages and ages before. Yes he was right here then”. And you will swell with pride because the heroic stories of Arjuna shall echo from across the ages and lift your spirit.

Some conspiracies are hatched with purpose. Some purposes last. We owe a lot to our ancestors who gave us pitching moments in history, and people larger than life.

16
Aug
08

Can I walk on my city streets with a donut in hand and not be blown up into pieces?

Mr Vee steps out of his office and heads to the nearest Donut Baker; he grabs two honey dipped donuts and gets them packed in a paper bag (and not a plastic one at that). He is intent on walking five kilometers to the place he is temporarily put-up at; for now he is a ‘rove’.

As he rounds a certain curve on the main road he dips his hand into the paper bag, fishes out donut number one and bites off a heavy chunk; the stuff melting into his mouth in no time. As the sugar pumps into his blood, he crosses a large metal garbage bin and trembles at its sight. How can he be sure that the bin is innocuous; that it does not house an improvised ‘timed’ explosive. In these ‘Interesting Times’ he cannot be.

Mr Vee and many others like him had their lives ‘shaken’, when low intensity serial blasts went off in Bangalore to the tune of terrorist elements. And his countrymen are facing a tirade of bombs and hate. What followed in Ahmedabad and Surat has made a long story even longer and deadlier.

There is more to this story that I have been weaving around Mr.Vee. If I should cap it in three lines, here is how it would go. ‘Madivala’ is one of the doors to Bangalore, a bus boarding/alighting point for passengers to/from Tamil Nadu and Kerala. If a bomb explodes right at your exit door, your passage seems unsure, threatened, unsafe, aimed at and targeted. It reads, “You better be forewarned!”.

rain douses fear; and angst. Bangalore – 25/7/08

Rain affects a bombed city’s morale. Rain dulls her; but along with it douses the fear and washes away the panic and angst. But hate is a different thing. The rain turns the flames of hatred into a conflagration; gives her a face more grim and taut; and voila in a day’s time hate manifests its new form in a different city like never before.
Are my cities safe, can I ask?
Are my cities safe,
can I ask; can I at least wonder?

Can I walk on my city streets with a donut in hand and not be blown up into pieces?




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