Morris and his adventures

Our protagonist, Morris or Morris Junior, is from a family of aristocrats. His dad Morris was released from the English zoo into the wild waters of Tanganyika to boost the dwindling hippo population, which, as an international concern, had overshadowed even the US Iraq conflict. Despite major effort by wildlife conservators, Morris senior, with his zoo-ly manners, found it tough to adjust to the wild. Being an industrious specimen of his species, he soon found a partner after a fierce face-off with the local Don, who was no match for the jujitsu that Morris had picked up in Zoo from a friendly Orangutan. Tanganyikans’ peaceful nature and friendly ecosystem accepted Morris as one of their own, and thereon, it was smooth sailing.

Morris clan expanded soon. The suaveness and prim n proper manners of Morris attracted many a cow, and very soon, the upper lake region of Tamganyika abounded with mini Morris’s. In a British way, he named the initial progeny as Morris Minor and Major, but as the clan grew, even Morris Junior the 1st, 2nd, Morris Miriam 1, etc failed to capture the true extent of Morris’ expansionist efforts.

Unlike normal hippos or any beings, Morris, with his British upbringing, believed in challenging the status quo, first of which was the dictum that “hippos can’t swim.” You didn’t know that didn’t you? Such a huge frame, capable of displacing Archimedean quantum of water, should be skimming the surface, rather than sinking, felt Morris.

Try as he may, his body followed the hippo code and refused to float. Hits and trials, life’s travails… Morris edged on, or should I say, thrashed on, assuming that one day his 3 ton frame would skim on the surface. Similar to Archimedes and his polymath knowledge, Morris used his technical bent of mind to ensure that his herd stayed protected. In fact, he even named his little domain Syracuse, in honour of the great mathematician, who helped in defending the city against the Romans. This history seeking bone of his was kindled by the same Orangutan who, in turn, listened in to such snippets from the blabbering pigeons, who actually stayed inside the science and history museum adjacent to the Zoo. Their favourite afternoon perch was the inverse Banyan tree in the Orangutan enclosure. Why inverse? Don’t ask me..go look at a Baobab tree

Well, even as Morris senior was learning to live with the laws of physics in the Tanganyikan wild, his progeny was growing too. Our hero Morris Minor, with an uncanny resemblance to an actual Morris Minor, was one of dad’s favourite lieutenants, whether it be for fetching a fresh stalk of wet leaves or for scratching his wide expanse of backside, Morris Minor was the man. He was ok swaddling through the depths of the shallow rivulet, without having to swim or attempt to swim, as the stalks of river weed were easier to pluck from the base. The compromise of taking long gulps of air from the surface and then skimming under water, was in his opinion more fun than staying on the surface of water like some puny cormorant or a mighty elephant.

While Morris Major assisted dad in various bull fights, Morris Minor being a dreamer, became a major micro wildlife enthusiast. his curiosity was always piqued by those little creatures, who were not even the size of his ear stalk or nostril fold. He often wondered about their lives and what made them click? The jet-black cormorant family was still a bigger entity, though their chest bearing act on remote stones, did force him to try some bare-chested sub bathing, which sadly flopped. Imagine, a 100 something Hippo baby attempting back floating, even as his heavy bones and sinew take him further deep into the swirly depths of the great green river. Neither could he find a suitable rock to lie down with legs up in the air, like one of those hyenas or lion cubs that he had seen in the savannahs, nor did he have the geometrical construct to keep his podgy legs up in the air…

A  Cormorant

His traipses also took him to the great Baobab, with its hands up in the air. Maybe it was an unattainable pose for our Junior, so he felt more enamored by the presence of the huge tree and its peaceful environment. Only people disturbing his peace were the warthogs and a youngish elephant herd, busier with the palm shoots next door. Left to his own thoughts, Morris Minor now focused on his primary targets, the mini beings, one being a family of bull frogs and the other what he lovingly called as a helicopter or the dragon fly. The soft aquamarine eyes of both these beings evoked a sense of absolute calm in our skittish protagonist, who felt that he could spent his lifetime, just gazing into those infinity pools of serene calm and tremendous love. The fact that one of his muses didn’t spare even a second to use her longish tongue to pull down the second muse and gulp him, did annoy him a bit, and he sincerely wished from the bottom of his mighty Hippo heart that the two found a path of mutually accepted peaceful coexistence.

While the aerodynamics displayed by helicopter Impressed Morris Minor to a large extent, the import of his huge frame executing any of those yo-yo motions was not lost upon him. His puny tail of 2 feet in contrast to the 15 feet long body versus the longish tail of the dragon fly, which did an aerodynamic tilt and even bend to manœuvre the main body, amused him to a large extent and even set out a chain of introspective questions for God, regarding the sense of purpose which he had when Hippos were designed. Another problem with helicopters was that their lifespan was so short. His friend list kept changing every second day as the previous dragon fly friend went missing either due to a smart frog or a wily spider or some natural accident. The butterflies and ladybugs with their colorful attitude didn’t find any traction in our bland gray protagonists’ curiosity spectrum.

On the other hand, the frog family kept bouncing in and out, even as egrets and hornbills vied for a bite of them as tiny little snacks to complement their fish diet. His little mind in such a huge body could comprehend the ecosystems or food pyramids, and his being a vegetarian gave him an impartial ringside view of the whole darwinian struggle. It was on one such day after a heavy midnight snack and few self defemce classes that Morris sighted Wilma.

Was it love at first sight, or was it his innate admiration for gracious beings that pulled him closer. Of all the frogs in that cess pool, there was this one gracious girl, lithe, with toned features, who moved around in a bubble of calm. A bubble, so precarious, that Morris Junior was afraid to even snort when she was around. His friends explained that she had joined their Army (not the defence forces, but that’s what a group of frogs are called) after the great floods. Probably swept downriver from the Nile, her features resembled an Egyptian godess, sculpted in green, with texture that of an ebony wood.

What impressed him more was the way she glided over water, as if she was above the water surface. As compared to his Hippo canter using the river bed, here was one who was the ultimate specimen of skill and graciousness. Never for a moment did it occur to him that the scales were heavily tilted in his favour (not on the love front, but in terms of water displaced).

His dad Morris called it a breast stroke when Morris Minor mentioned the grace with which Wilma moved about. Used to his sons curiosity spectrum, and wanting to keep the spark alive, the senior Morris also suggested that Morris Junior had it in him to elevate their clan from a lifetime of underwater running and sinking and occasional surface breathing to a bright future of surface skimming and faster motions. Armed with his dad’s decree, Morris, the dreamer, finally had a purpose in life, to master the breast stroke.

To be continued…..

When do I tell her ?

One of those journeys to Pune for 1st Chemo
Reena and Dobbie..

When do I tell her or when is the right time was a question that haunted me for seconds and minutes and hours during those dark times…every passing moment from the time our Onco doctor explained that the last hope or line of treatment for her cancer treatment had not worked well, and  that we were not left with any major lifeline straws to hold on. The question kept clanging in my brain, even as the inquisitive eyes of Reena and everyone around us tried to extract that information out of me. A piece of news, which I was not so proud to hold on, nor was I willing to give such a misery to the most disliked person on this Earth, even if I knew someone like that.

Many timelines in one frame…

It was one of those review meetings in Lucknow Command Hospital, a halfway consultation amidst chemo cycles. We were already on our second line of Chemo treatment, the first having been successful two years before (keeping her disease free for 8 months), but the emperor of maladies had made a revisit to the liver within a year, to reaffirm his supremacy. Amol, our Onco Doctor, a kind soul, made Reena wait outside while gently conveying this piece of devastating information to me, with an opening sentence that ‘it is never easy to say this or to listen to such a news’. His next question was more challenging; ‘do you want to tell her the truth’. Never in life till then I had to face such a decision dilemma,  and no training or enemy’s bullets could prepare me for such a momentous call on someone so emotionally close to my heart or my heart itself.

Mishty and Scoobie…2019
Headgear as a style statement..flanked by us..me and Parin

In hindsight, I have often wondered, what would have been the best? Did I overthink or overprotect Reena by keeping the actual prognosis hidden from her? Wait and see, had suggested my inner mind, while another part said, let her decide, as she is the patient or the one who has to undergo all the pain and associated treatment cycles. Would my revealing such a piece of devastating hopelessness melt away the straws that Reena was clinging to, to save herself from the black morass of abject desolateness and despair and fling her head down into an abyss of breathless misery?

Just out from a Chemo session…
With my sis..her confidante…
Bodily effects of Chemo 2nd time…smile remains unchanged

Next came the question, if not now when? Will that moment ever come? Since that chance has passed two years back (20 June 2024), I can now say that one never knows. A smart answer would be to say it varies from people to people, but smart people never have such questions in their mind, right?

Itsy…
New rescue .Kamli aka Kamlamma from Pallipad
Pied Piper for all four legged..
Another rescue…
The kids of kota..
The Indies of Kota….
Lazy Kota afternoon with Mishty and newly arrived Scoobie
Reena nursing an Indie pup back to life

So, Dr Amol delivers his set of sentences, or the death sentence. I listen and again listen waiting to see a speck of hope in what he just spoke, hoping that he will come up with a rejoinder to get me buoyant but that doesn’t happen. Eyes just well up, throat chokes, breath gets stuck mid air…..in fact everything just stops. The shining stars, gleaming boots, crisp OG uniform, clean surgical set up, nothing is relevant anymore. Stripped down to the essence of being a human with raw emotions, we both stare at each other, or rather, Amol awaits my reaction, and the least I can utter is, “oh, what about all those new developments in cancer research which you had mentioned”. He explains how he had reached out to many and why none of them will work for Reena. Another few minutes, and then he asks me, what I would like to do – call Reena in and let Amol explain it to her or we keep this to ourselves.

With another Star…as Chairperson APS Nehru Road

It was a split-second decision, but it seemed that I would take eons to decide, whether to tell her or not, and I knew that the decision would keep haunting and revisiting me time and again, as long as I saw hope in her eyes and believed that one fine day, all will be well after a reset button. So, the wet eyes were hastily dried, and we both walked out to   a smiling Reena, who was waiting outside on the stainless-steel chairs in a crowded corridor. Seeing both of us and our not so bright faces, she could immediately make out that something was wrong, so with an extra radiant smile she asked me, “what happened, my time is up?”. My brave smile and a nonchalant “all is well” is not enough for a person who has seen me for the past 21 years through thick and thin, and she turns towards Amol and asks the same question, or rather a modified one, “I have time na?”. Amol gave a brave smile and reassured her that the best would be done, without drawing any black and white timelines. Grey zone is where all of us were at that stage, I guess, as her not being persistent in extracting further information from me was rather surprising, as I explained future course of action in rather vague terms by calling it “more of observation rather than extra medication”.

The month was May 2024, and in another 40 odd days, Reena would breathe her last in the same hospital under the watchful eyes of the same doctor. By not telling her, did I prepare her less for an event which was certain for all of us, but was more certainly awaiting her in the horizon. Maybe, she would have wanted to say her byes properly, meet and greet friends past and present, say bye to her family, near and extended, speak with Dr Manish our first Onco Doctor (with whom she had her preliminary set of discussions when the cancer was diagnosed), and do so many other things which a chirpy Sagittarian like her always wanted to do. Being the more mature of us, she might have had a better strategy to manage her last few days and ease me into accepting what was inevitable. But, yes, there are so many “mebbes” in there.

So, the telling her part never happened. Many a times I felt that I would just break down in front of her whence listening to her hope filled thoughts. Many a times I wondered how she could remain so cheerful amidst such gloomy surroundings filled with deadly pall of death. How and why would she not use her mobile to read up on her treatment lines and disease prognosis even as everyone else around her were trying their level best to hide their worrisome faces. Even as the disease progressed to her brain, in the form of two small lesions, in another 30 days, why did she cheerfully accept to go through the rigmarole of preparing for a focused radiation for the brain, even with a promised life expectancy of not more than 6 months.

Returning from Pune after chemo (Vande Bharat)

Her failing Liver did not let the radiation therapy happen, which again created some questions in her mind about lack of any medication or treatment for such a grave condition. Now or later- Now or never- Hope versus despair- False hope vs reality- Farewells versus silent fade away, my mind was a molten mix of interconnected seesaws. Even as we spent those golden moments together, embracing the pain, reliving old moments, remembering people, forgiving mistakes, enjoying birdsongs and the green foliage from her wheelchair, the question kept popping back in my mind; “should I tell her?”. Maybe I had a window on 15 June 2024 when she started telling me and everyone else around to “let her go” and even made the kids (son Parin and Niece Sagarika) sit down and lectured them on how to tackle future challenges.

20 June 2024 soon arrived. A day after our 20th wedding anniversary and a warm cake cutting ceremony in the critical care ward, a cake thoughtfully organized by our Onco doctor Amol, and cheerfully cut by Reena and a tearful me, even as she smiled and spread radiance onto the gloomy faces all around. Her Binaka toothpaste smile became the topic of discussion, as her mom (Ijaa, in pahadi language) narrated how some local ad agency had approached her in Belgaum (when Reena was a tiny tot) to pose for that toothpaste advertisement, even as me and our son Parin exchanged crumbs of cake pieces with her.

Laughed and smiled, all of us, while the protagonist just smiled and smiled. One of those rare moments when someone’s smile could evoke a stream of uncontrollable tears, my mind said, and I am sure the other minds felt the same too. Another 24 hours, and a shout of Code Blue, lot of hurry scurry and it was now Amol walking out of ICU towards me to convey yet another piece of devastating news. It is a human marvel of hope that even at that point of time, I was hoping that he will smile and say, “Maam is fine now”. Well, that was not to be, and today it is two years sans that wonderful soul in this beautiful world, which would have been more beautiful had she been spreading her Saggi cheer amongst the gloomy and downtrodden. Maybe, when we meet up there, we will sit down holding hands, and I will muster the courage to apologize for lying through my teeth and tears, to finally tell her what Amol told me. Why do I feel that she will just smile and say, “I always knew” and leave me wondering how a person undergoing so much of misery can spread so much of cheer, once again….

Givers and Takers

Round n round goes the merry go round….

Laughter n merriment…for the riders..

Don’t stop. Don’t stop says the selfish pleasure seeker

When will this hullabaloo end say the pleasure waitlisted…

Stop it shall..as what
goes around, comes around
And what goes up comes down

There stops the merry go round..alights the merry makers…a tad bit sad as the ride stopped..richer with memories

Now boards the merriment seekers…memory making moments await them…

Silent is the merry go round…other than a few creeks here and there…she’s a giver after all….

A lifetime of creeks n sighs..and a load full of shared memories… she owns nothing…but a few scraps of metal and a small number of shiny ballbearings..

Nagarjuna Sagar and Ethipothala Waterfalls

On 10 Dec 1955, Pandit Nehru famously remarked after inaugurating the construction of the Nagarjuna Sagar Dam- “Dams are the temples of modern India”. Just prior to that, he had carried the first tray of soil for Dam inauguration along with an old labourer who said, ” This is your alms to us”. And indeed, this dam, one of the first of Green Revolution changed the entire area and saw 150 plus rice mills coming up at Miryalaguda.

Pandit Nehru’s inaugural statement- framed and placed at the Dam site

Our trip to this historic site had been on hold for a long time, primarily because we were waiting for the rains. Online reviews suggested monsoons as the best time to visit this picturesque location, which is home to one of the tallest masonry dams as well as ancient Buddhist relics. Located approximately 190 km from Secunderabad, this dam on the Krishna River stands 124 metres tall and 1.6 km wide, linking Telangana and Andhra Pradesh states. An idea conceived in 1903, with construction done between 1955 and 1970 (approximately 50000 labourers every day) as part of Green Revolution, this is one human marvel that has to be seen and appreciated.

The Dam with all 26 gates open….. Image courtesy wikipedia

The drive is a memorable and peaceful three-and-a-half-hour trip, through Outer Ring Road, exiting at Exit 12, Ibrahimpatnam (a huge lake, if you are an avid birdwatcher), a town named Mall (with no major malls), Mallepalli and onto the town of Nagarjunasagar. Since our aim was to enjoy nature, the incessant rains, lush green paddy fields, intermittent toddy sellers, and omnipresent dogs, goats, pigs, and buffaloes, added more colour to the memories. Being a weekday, traffic was negligible. The new 120 km speed limit sign on ORR, though a welcome change, created a cognitive dissonance as our XUV and me were used to keeping it just under 100km, to avoid ambushes by traffic police deployed like snipers under huge bushes.

After a few coffee, snack, and photo breaks en route, we were soon at Haritha Vijay Vihar Hotel, managed by Telangana tourism department. Link of the hotel site is given below👇

https://tourism.telangana.gov.in/hotellist?cityCode=28&checkinDate=2023-08-02&checkoutDate=2023-08-03&adults=1&childs=0&unitCode=ALL).

View from the Haritha hotel room

Since online reviews of the Hotel were not so great, we were adequately prepared with clean bedsheets, etc, but the management surprised us. Clean rooms, helpful staff, and a responsive catering staff, combined with an awesome location overlooking the largest manmade lake, made us forget one odd broken doorhandle or missing intercom phone. The point to note is that alternate stay and food options are limited at Nagarjuna Sagar.

Next destination was Ethipothala waterfalls, around 16 km (30 minutes) from the Hotel. A new bridge constructed across River Krishna linking Telangana and Andhra Pradesh offered majestic and imposing views of the dam, despite the bridge itself being a tall structure.

The new bridge across River Krishna, connecting Telangana and Andhra Pradesh
The Dam..as seen from new bridge ..left is Andhra Pradesh and right is Telangana

After crossing some road construction bottlenecks and paying a wild life reserve fee, we reached Ethipothala waterfalls. Located on the Chandravanka river, a tributary of River Krishna, the waterfall is a combination of three streams – Chandravanka Vagu, Nakkala Vagu and Tummala Vagu. To get a good view of the 21 feet waterfall, you must check into AP Haritha Tourism Complex, which has a viewpoint, a small restaurant, washrooms, and a few monkey moms and babies. A cup of coffee from the restaurant combined with a ringside view of the waterfall rejuvenated our senses.

Just outside the Haritha complex, to the left was an archway and set of steps leading down to the riverbed, with a board mentioning Dattatreya temple. As we walked down, a network of caves and idols could be seen, with some boards even mentioning about a cave leading to Srisailam. After descending the steps, and seeing the gushing rivulet, and meeting a few Lambaadi tribal people (ladies wearing white bangles covering their entire arm), you can walk up 50 odd steps to the abode of Lord Dattatreya, after meeting Goddess Madhumati Devi at the base. The whole place had a surreal feeling, and the view of Ethipothala waterfalls from the top of hillock was mesmerizing.

Lambaadi tribal woman (clicked with her permission and blessings)

Some online sites explain that the place is actually Yathi Taposthala (where Yathis or sages performed penance and worship), and the Lord is in unmatha stithi (spiritually intoxicated state). More of the place is available at https://www.sreedattavaibhavam.org/ethipothala/

On the way back, the rivulet looked tempting and we were wondering why locals were not splashing around. Well, we were unaware of a government run crocodile farm further upstream!!!

Since it was getting dark, despite time being only 4.30pm, we trekked back to the car parking and drove back towards the dam. A Lambaadi woman, stuck at the parking lot, travelled with us till the road junction, and it was a good exercise in hybrid communication with sign language and Malayalam to talk with her.

Coffee and Pakoras..with a Dam view

After dropping her, we drove back via the new bridge over Krishna River, to a shiva temple, which is adjacent to a partially broken-down bridge. This is on the road that leads to the power generation unit at the base of the dam. After paying obeisance to the God and River, and taking few photographs in such a Bahubali-stic location (maybe due to rains, only one Coracle could be spotted, heading for a makeshift shack in the centre of the River), we headed back to the coziness of our Suite at Haritha.

View from the temple

For the next day, landmarks left to see were the Dam itself and Nagarjunsagar Konda, a hillock in the river (accessible by boat) with Buddhist relics. As you would be aware, Nagarjunasagar was home to a buddhist monk Nagarjuna of Mahayana Sect. Some literature also calls this place Vijaypuri, seat of the famous Ikshvaku dynasty. Once dam was constructed in the 1960s, the relics were relocated to the hill, which is now a 45-minute boat ride away. Boat timings of 11.30 am and 1.30pm was offered by Google baba, but sadly, boats do not operate if passengers are less than 50!!!. So, we drove to the next destination, i.e., main dam site, which is in Nagarjunasagar village. This place, with the main dam and adjacent earth dam, is well lit up at night and would make for excellent viewing, but we missed that.

With identities established, we could see the 26 sluice gates and 1.6 km expanse of the dam. There was a team of divers with underwater cameras and oxygen lines photographing the underwater gates on the channel supplying water to the power generation unit. As per the Supervisor, they go to depths of 100 to 150 feet to ascertain damages, which are then tendered out to public contractors for repairs. The sluice gates were silent, as the water level had not reached base levels, though for an untrained eye, the dam was full to the brim or the water was raring to go!

So, in summary, it is a wonderful break from the hustle and bustle of city life- whether you make it a day trip or an overnight one. Food and stay options are limited, but the wide expanse of water and lulling calmness of the atmosphere in the backdrop of Buddhist scriptures and photos, make up for small deficits.

Tempting….ain’t it?

Dobbie…the Contortionist….Potter and Pushpa

Dobbie @Potter

Our girl….Dobbie…initial months…

The story of Dobbie can not be complete without mentioning her siblings and a beautiful humane soul named Anchal, a teacher who finds time to feed 60 plus Indies every day, even as she and her husband takes care of 20 plus disabled dogs in a shelter, aptly named Second Chance. Anchal ma’am called up one evening as we were celebrating the successful adoption of our 8 indie pups (Well, not ours, but those of Jumpie and some unknown mom – that’s another story altogether). She was requesting us to foster four abandoned pups who had been packed in a gunny bag and dumped outside her society gate. Oh no, not again were my initial thoughts, thinking of the hurricane created by those eight pups even as Reena justified four as a smaller number.

Pepper, Bhaalu, Dobbie, and Mowgli after a good bath and brush

It was almost dark by the time those desolate pups could be brought home. Reena named them Pepper, Bhaalu, Dobbie, and Mowgli based on their mannerisms and appearance. Dobbie clearly was the weaker one or as what some call, the runt of the litter. As per Darwins theory of evolution, Dobbie never had a chance to survive in this bad bad world, being the weakest and most fragile pup with a slow eating style.

All efforts were on to make them healthy when tragedy stuck. Bhalu, being most inquisitive, managed to wriggle outside the fenced compound and was viciously attacked by one of the indies outside. We found him unconscious in a pool of blood with a head injury. Dr Rao of Yapral gave him 30% chances of survival, but Bhalu held on. Two weeks of care, he was back – bouncing around, proving the resilience of Indies.

Seeing Dobbie’s and Bhalu’s photos online, one set of prospective parents got interested. During their home visit, Bhalu turned on his charm and clung on to Gowtham even as Dobbie’s frailty made her less adoptable. The happiness of Bhalu finding such loving parents outweighed the sadness of letting him go. After all, he was the smartest and sprightiest of them all…..well, that happiness was short-lived.

Bhalu with Gowtham, his new parent
Bhalu (renamed Alex), at his new home

Unknown to all of us, a villain was lurking in the background, Mr Parvo. Probably from one of the adoption drive location where Dobbie and Mowgli had gone, they got along Parvo, a much dreaded killer. Even before we could react, Mowgli bade goodbye to this unkind world, and Bhalu, aka Alex, also breathed his last at Gowthams home. Dr Rao of Yapral and Anchal ma’am gave vital inputs to keep Pepper and Dobbie alive. IV line, drip feeding, sponge sessions, Dobbie the frail one breathed on while Pepper seemed unaffected by the virus.

Perseverance paid, and Dobbie was soon back on her feet. An apparition of bones and a big set of ears, it was still too early to predict her future. Being a fighter, she kept at it, all the while thanking us with her bulgy, black, watery eyes.

A frail Dobbie, during her Parvo recovery

Adoption drive visits started again. Pepper got adopted next at the Neredmet camp. In the same camp, when a prospective parent wanted to see her, Dobbie clung on tightly to me, maybe trying to say, “Don’t let me go.” So, Dobbie and Tikki (another indie pups, from our neighborhood) returned home.

Tikki n Dobbie..see Tikkis hand on mine, in reciprocation

Slowly and steadily, even as the dog of the house, Scooby faded away, Dobbie started asserting herself. Tikki being the darpok or faint-hearted, gave Dobbie more room. Whether it be standing over Tikki, or sleeping upside down with all legs in the air, or barking at the gentle giant Duke (German Shepherd, neighbour), Dobbie became the Don. Her poses, at times convoluted and contorted, cannot be replicated and have to be seen to be believed.

Pushpa style….
Comfy Bed…❤️

With Tikki gone abruptly, Dobbbie became lonely. A bit lost, less hungry, more sleepy.. she was into an emotional downswing. Thats when Pallipad ki Rani decided to walk into our home. Kamli’s arrival changed it all, and Dobbie was no longer the lone wolf.

Nirvana….post a heavy meal

And yes, our black beauty lives on…from a puny, thinframe gunny bag pup to an expressive, lovable yet ferocious, moody but mushy, black but grey at places, little girl who sleeps with wanton abandon, with her legs up in the air and body contorted in a mix of 90 and 270 degree angles…she sleeps and barks on…….❤️

Pallipad ki Rani –  Kamalamma aka Kamli

She was the unproclaimed queen or Rani of Pallipad, a small village in Kerala, filled with undulating paddy fields and thousands of coconut trees. The whole village was hers, or so we can say, as she didn’t have a tag or a home or a human owner, the last owner being so humane as to dump her on the streets as her skin infection scared him off. Flitting from houses to houses, streams to paddy fields, cats to dogs, our ash colored heroine considered everyone her friend, despite being proven wrong time and again by the stones and kicks that went her way. Morsels of food she saved, and hid away under rocks and fallen coconut trees, for a rainy day only to lose most of them to quick thinking cats and smarter indies. A poor daschund she was, stocky, out turned limbs et al, droopy ears, a broken tail and a sausage shaped body which was now an uneven mix of crests and troughs.

Kamli@mar23

Well, month of March it was and the date 12 days into that month. We were in pallipad, sad and broken, as my mom had succumbed to some infection within 12 hours of being admitted to a hospital, worsened by her diabetic history. A patch of land adjacent to our ancestral home was being cleaned out for her last rites by a set of volunteers, when a shout caught my attention. Someone was shooing away, rather brutally, an ash colored, misfigured dwarfy dog, with liquidy brown eyes. Her pleading eyes screamed of ultimate surrender and assured of no interference in the ceremony, but no one was listening. My requests to let her be, were rejected with reasons that she might eat the rice balls offered to souls, which are eventually eaten by the crows. Hesitantly, and with extreme helplessness, she plodded away and faded into the adjacent plot. A day full of rituals, grieving relatives, and tons of emotions smothered us as mom’s body was cremated that day.

Me, my wife Reena and my sister Parvathy stayed on in the ancestral house along with two of mom’s sisters. We were to stay on for 16 days before dispersing the ashes. It was during this transition period from sadness to normalcy, that the protagonist of this story, stepped back into our lives, and the channel she adopted was the compassion that Reena has for other beings. While driving back from a relative’s house, reena saw the ash colored ugly girl, made me stop the car and offered her some digestive biscuits, which she politely nibbled as she was more busy receiving affectionate pats and touches. We also noticed some Parle G biscuits, on the kerb, which she was nibbling when reena spotted her. As we drove back, she hopped along behind the car and sort of self invited herself into our house.

Named Kamli (by me) for her bouncy movements and carefree attitude, she soon became a responsible guard dog. After barking at cycle borne school children and the morning fish monger, she would look back at us for looks of appreciation, which were available in tremendous measure. A lottery seller was her only weakness, as he passed by on his rickety bicycle, calling out for Sundari, which in malayalam means “beautiful one.” She would go flappetty flappetty behind him to devour those Parle G biscuits by the kerbside. Lucky was her, or was it him, to have found each other even as those who resided in mansions decided to abandon her.  A luck seller he was, and lucky she was to have found someone who sold luck.

Kamli with her coconut shell
Wanting a sip of chai

What followed were a series of care sessions, trying to make sense of her ailments, even as a set of well wishers advised us against adopting her citing life-threatening skin diseases. Since the lady of the house had decided to adopt her, what was left for me to do was to restore her to a normal state. Visit to local vet clinic was not very promising as the vet gave a prognosis extending to 6 months of treatment with an equally large bill. Since we were to travel back by road in a few days, treatment commenced in full earnest. Daily application of coconut oil and camphor was another suggested remedy, which was not a problem in God’s own country. I was still a fence sitter, hoping against hope that some good soul would come forward to adopt her, even as her outward appearance and demeneour turned off many.

At the clinic 😁
Muffler wali kamli

We were also worried about our other girl Dobbie, an Indie and her reaction to our unilateral adoption. Help of Miss Deeksha (animal communicator) was sought to speak with Dobbie and convey that Kamli had no other home than our own. Turbulent times were predicted but for a very short time by her. Return road trip of almost three days with two nights at Bengaluru were eventful, as we tried to rein in a free wheeling queen of pallipad village into the confines of our car and hotel room. Toilet drills, sleep cycles, habit of chewing everything within reach, etc etc, made those hours memorable as we finally drove into Mani Enclave and back to our home.

Travel from pallipad to….new home
Found a patch of green at cousin sis Archana’s house where we stayed enroute

Pampered by her mom…

Shadow boxing with Dobbie went on for few days, but being a larger personality, Dobbie accepted her.  The story of that camel which threw out the traveller from a tent, was  repeated as Kamli assumed a more dominant and persistent role in our house.

A lazy feud…

Black and brown are our two girls. Dobbie, the sharp eared puny one and Kamli, the brown long eared muscular one. As reena calls her, our pallipad ki Rani has come a long way, across states. From a life of uncertainty and unbridled freedom to a life of love and societal restrictions, Kamli (or Buffy the vampire and not slayer, as reena is contemplating a name change) has indeed come a long way. Her skin now a rich tone of dark brown, her nature always inquisitive, her barks complimenting that of Dobbie, she lives on as another MERA resident, as a living proof of humanity and compassion in human beings.

Vying for mom’s attention
Kamli@Apr 23
The Transformation

Who Am I ? : The Arduous Path to Self – Realization

“Your own Self Realization is the greatest service you can render the world”

                                Ramana Maharshi

One of the focus areas for all human beings is to remain physically fit and the training regime is structured accordingly. As one progresses in life, there are also brief introductions to the facets of mental and spiritual health, though the visible attractions of physical fitness act as Blinkers and prevents many from expanding his or her self-improvement targets to include that of Self Awareness and Self – Realization. This is also an important step towards developing one’s Intuition, which is a crucial component of any decision making. Kahneman in his book “Thinking Fast and Slow” speaks of System 1 and 2 types of brain, with one being the fast intuitive brain and the other being slow and rational. Kahneman warned the readers against their fast intuitive System 1 brain hijacking decisions due to the faulty structure of mental shortcuts or heuristics.

A crucial step in the whole process is self-awareness of the decision maker about his/ her decision making style as well as the Schema or mental framework that is influencing the decision. As compared to the Western concepts of Ego and Depth Psychology, which sees the dualism of mind and matter or the Conscious and the Unconscious, the Upanishads spoke of a single consciousness, which is obscured to the observer or normal human being due to multiple factors like ignorance and lack of knowledge. As the world considers Quantum Cognition and correlates quantum entanglement to understand deeper processes of the mind, it will be interesting to have a brief relook at the ancient knowledge systems.

Composed around the 2nd to 5th century of the Current Era, Patañjali’s Yoga Sūtras is both a classic of Eastern and world thought, forming one the of six orthodox Hindu philosophies of the Upanishadic tradition. Patañjali’s yoga methodology guides practitioners to direct experience of purusa, pure consciousness. In Patañjali’s world purusa is the fundamental ontological reality, which is self-illuminating, singular, eternal, and absolute. He uses several notable terms interchangeably with purusa: perceiver, seeing and ātman. In the Upanishadic tradition, ātman is the individual essence and localized expression of brahman, the Hindu term for God or the Absolute, and often rendered as Self. Clearly eluding a simple English translation, brahman is also variously described as ultimate reality and being-consciousness-bliss. Most notably, it is a term that does not allow for any metaphysical splitting of reality. Conscious, eternal, and irreducible, nothing can be marked out or set against brahman.

Bhagvad Gita has these verses :-

Know that Prakriti and Purusha are both beginningless; and also know that all manifestations and Gunas arise from the Prakriti. (13.19)
The Prakriti is said to be the cause of production of physical body and organs (of perception and action). The Purusha (or the consciousness) is said to be the cause of experiencing pleasures and pains. (13.20)
The Purusha associating with Prakriti (or matter), enjoys the Gunas of Prakriti. Attachment to the Gunas (due to ignorance caused by previous Karma) is the cause of the birth of JeevaAtman in good and evil wombs. (13.21) (JeevaAtman or Jeeva is defined as Atman accompanied by the subtle (or astral) body consisting of the six sensory faculties and vital forces; the living entity; the individual soul enshrined in the physical body.)
The one who sees the imperishable Supreme Lord dwelling equally within all perishable beings truly sees. (13.27)
When one perceives diverse variety of beings resting in One and spreading out from That alone, then one attains Brahman. (13.30)

The Spiritual Journey

How does an individual set forth on such a journey, which traditionally is undertaken under the guidance of a Guru or an enlightened soul, especially while continuing with the day-to-day demands of one’s profession and in some places where even the basic amenities are scarce? A journey, which demands ultimate commitment and sacrifice and a spirit to explore, without being confined by the perceived limits of a human mind might seem unsurmountable for a military mind. What works in favour for those in uniform to set upon such a path is the ingrained sense of discipline, which such a journey mandates. The assured exposure to violence, long periods of separation, possibility of death or witnessing death are certain aspects which makes such a journey imperative for a soldier, or should I say a spiritual scholar warrior. Either with a Guru or through institutionalized measures within the organization, such a journey can be undertaken which can provide perennial bliss in the longer term and peace of mind in the short/ medium term. 

Six major orthodox schools of Hindu philosophy, that have stood the test of times are ‘Nyaya’, ‘Vaisheshika’, ‘Samkhya’, ‘Yoga’, ‘Mimamsa’ and ‘Vedanta’. Nyaya school teaches us the precepts of Law that govern us and our environment. Vaisheshikha School espouses Atomism or that all material objects of the world as composed of small parts which can be divided and sub divided into even smaller ones similar to what is taught in Atomic Physics. “Samkhya” is ‘number’ and stems from ‘Purusha’ and ‘Prakriti’. It explains creation in a manner where the implicit becomes explicit and that neither there is production nor destruction. ‘Purusha’ is pure consciousness, and ‘prakriti’ is nature. This is law of conservation of Mass. Yoga school teaches us that mind, body, and spirit are all one and cannot be separated. This is law of conservation of Energy. Mimamsa school teaches us ‘reflection’ or ‘critical investigation’ and thus contemplation of the consciousness. This is philosophy of Physics or Quantum Mechanics. Vedanta is “finality of the Vedas”. It reflects ideas that emerge from, all other doctrines contained in the Upanishads, especially the knowledge and liberation. It is the culmination of all sciences that end in one truth, the truth of consciousness. 

A starting step in such a journey could be with the Mahavakyas. The Mahāvākyas are “The Great Sayings” of the Upanishads, as characterized by the Advaita school of Vedanta with mahā meaning great and vākya, a sentence. The essence of each of these Mahavakyas is the same, since all are intended to guide practitioners toward the realization that all beings are one with Brahman. Understanding this is believed to be the ultimate form of compassion, in which individuals recognize one another as part of the same whole. Tat Tvam Asi is one of the four principle Mahavakyas and refers to the unity of Atman (the individual self or soul) with Brahman (universal consciousness or the Absolute). Jnana yoga focuses on the contemplation of the Mahavakyas.  The four Principle Mahavakyas are:

  1. Prajnanam Brahma – Consciousness is Brahman
  2. Ayam Atma Brahma – This self is Brahman
  3. Tat Tvam Asi – Thou art That or You are one
  4. Aham Brahmasmi – I am Brahman or I am Divine

If we focus on the Bhagvad Gita, the 18 chapters of the Gita can be seen as three shadgams or sections of six chapters each. In each of these sections, three broad topics are dealt with. In the first set of six chapters, the three topics discussed are jiva vichara, the sadana of karma yoga to attain moksha, and the human effort, purusha prayatna, to gain self-knowledge. The second shadgam discusses Ishwara swaroopa, the sadana of upasana yoga or meditation on Saguna Brahman, and Ishwara Kripa. The focus in the third shadgam is on the oneness of Paramatma and jivatma, the sadana of jnana yoga through practices such as sravana, manana, nidhidyasa, etc., and the importance of character building by cultivating worthy qualities and virtues. It is shown that the first topic in each of the three shadgams, namely jiva vichara, Ishwara vichara and Jiva-Brahma Aikya Jnana, respectively unfolds the explanation of the three terms Tvam, Tat and Asi in the Mahavakya. The ‘Tvam’ pada refers to the essential nature of the individual soul, the ‘Tat’ pada is about the nature of the Supreme Brahman and the ‘Asi’ pada affirms the oneness of Paramatma and the jivatma. The second and the third topics in each of three sections comprehensively deal with the yoga sadanas, karma, bhakti, and jnana and of the importance of human effort, God’s grace and the cultivation of Daivi sampath or virtues.

Two birds living together, each the friend of the other, perch upon the same tree. Of these two, one eats the sweet fruit of the tree, but the other simply looks on without eating.

As Swami Krishnananda interprets the Mundaka Upanishad, the two birds are the Jiva and Isvara, both existing in an individual who is compared to a tree. They exist together as the reflection and the original. They both manifest themselves in different ways in every individual. From the characteristics of the Jiva it is possible to infer the nature of Isvara, and from the nature of Isvara it is possible to determine the potentialities of the Jiva. Both the Jiva and Isvara have a common substratum which is Brahman and which is the reality of both. The body is compared to a tree because it can be cut down like a tree. This tree is also called the Kshetra or the field of manifestation and action of the Kshetrajna or the knower of the field. The body is the field of action and experience and it is the fruit of actions done already. That which distinguishes the Jiva from Isvara is the mind only. In fact, the mind itself constitutes the Jiva. It is the Jiva that is affected by Avidya, Kama and Karma. Because of the conjunction of consciousness with these limiting factors, it has to experience the results of its actions; but Isvara, who is not limited to any adjunct, has no actions whatsoever to perform, and so, no experience of the results of actions. The fruits enjoyed by the Jiva are of the nature of pleasure and pain, i.e., they are all relative experiences born of non-discrimination. The experience of Isvara is eternal and is of the nature of purity, knowledge and freedom. Relative experience is the effect of the presence of Rajas, but the character of Isvara is Sattva and, hence, there is no phenomenal experience for Him. He is in fact the director of both the agent of actions and the results of actions. Isvara’s activity consists in His mere existence. The value of His existence is greater than that of the activity of the whole universe. His existence actuates the whole universe of manifestation.

What Motivates Me?

As a continuation of the journey of self-awareness, it is important to understand as to what motivates each one of us? What is the absolute motivation or incentive to work? Is it the material need as identified by Western motivational theorists or an innate desire to complete all actions associated with one’s birth in this world? Mahabharata emphasizes man attaining his ultimate goal in life, Moksha (self-realization). Man is expected to achieve this goal by synthesizing the different facets of Dharma, Artha and Kama. These concepts have many meanings. In an organizational context they can take on the following meanings:

  • Dharma: Code of conduct
  • Artha: Material attainments – wealth, the apparent reason for action
  • Kama: Desire
  • Moksha: Excellence in work, to go beyond material desires; the non-apparent reason for action.

In some sense, Kama drives attainment of Artha. The Dharma not only keeps a check on Kama so as not to indiscriminately pursue artha but also channels action to attainment of Moksha. One can detect in this aspect of Indian philosophy the similarities with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Maslow identified that the source of motivation for working is satisfying a hierarchy of basic needs which include, security, social, ego and self-actualization. Man’s behavior can be explained in terms of his experiences and by which of his needs are met. When a particular need has not been met, the drive to fully attain it, can considered fuel for that directs the activities of an employee; it determines what will be important to him/her and shapes the employees behavior accordingly. Therefore, according to Maslow’s theory, the level of motivated behavior is seen by the kind of activity a person is engaged in. The tension experienced within that individual, pleasant or unpleasant, arises when the individual is attempting to meet his or her need and is therefore very purposeful or goal directed in the type of actions they take to achieve this end. A need that is satisfied is no longer a source of tension, hence according to Maslow, only unmet needs are the prime source of motivation. If dissatisfaction, discontent and restlessness are the root cause of all activity, then the words of Chris Argyris that today’s bountiful economy is supporting an unhappy society appear true. This gives a very pessimistic picture of human endeavors.

While western thought talks about action propelled by individual drives, the Vedantic philosophy views the role of personality with its internal predispositions for motivation being secondary to societal considerations in guiding behavior. The unfolding of selflessness in the form of taking action towards societal good and betterment of the world is the ideal to be pursued. Hence for all people, action is inevitable but not in the same way Maslow proposed, that individuals are need-driven. Man cannot escape having to work, according to Vedanta, he must work in order to attain both Abhyudaya (worldly excellence) within the ambit of Dharma and also strive to attain Nishreyasa (spiritual excellence). Vedanta defines the importance of all desires of man, from the material and sensory to the moral, ethical and transcendental in its concept of Purusharthas (values sought by man). However, in sharp contrast to Maslow’s need based theory, Indian philosophy holds that the four aspects are not “needs” but “what always exists”. The word kama, desire, constitutes the entire range of human cravings and satisfactions at the sensory level. The second, artha (wealth), is the instrument for satisfying kama (desire). The third, Dharma, means ethical sense and helps to discipline and regulate the pursuit of the first and the second. Therefore, it would still be possible for one to strive for the greater good and during this process experience spiritual excellence without necessarily being affected by the material costs of the endeavour. Man could then attain Self-Realization, a concept that is profoundly higher than self-actualization, because it is no longer limited to the individual but ultimately elevates him to a higher plane. This idea of selflessness is the cornerstone of the Vedantic worldview. Accordingly, Human values in management proceeds from Dharma.

Sage Patanjali mentions five kleshas in Yoga Sutra 2.3 “Avidya-Asmita-Raga-Dvesha-Abhinivesa-Klesha” responsible for all our suffering in life. The Sanskrit word klesha translates to “poison” or “affliction.” This term is used to denote specific negative mental patterns that obscure our true nature. The kleshas are considered the cause of suffering in yogic and Buddhist philosophy and are to be actively overcome. 

  • Avidya: ignorance
  • Asmita: I-ness, ego sense
  • Raga: attachment
  • Dvesha: aversion
  • Abhinivesah: fear of death, clinging to life
  • Klesha: painful, afflicted

    Only through proper understanding, we can outgrow our intrinsic afflictions as we are all born with these kleshas. The first step is to understand these kleshas and then make an effort to eliminate them while fully understanding that all of these afflictions are tangled together within our egos. 

The Future – Closer to Self-Realization

    As Wg Cdr NJ Reddy (Retd), the founder of Yoga Prana Vidya (YPV) says, “Mindfulness is a state of being aware of the present moment without any expectation or judgment. It can be done by becoming more aware of one’s feelings and thoughts and can help you listen in detail, appreciate others better and not react instantly by being carried away by emotions”. Sadhguru, the founder of Isha Foundation speaks of repeating, “I am not the mind, I am the soul” as part of Isha Kriya to get one’s attention to breathing and says that it is not a “slogan, philosophy or ideology, but a fragrance added so that one can more readily become aware of the breath”.  Sri Sri Ravishankar, the founder of Art of Living, has included focusing on one’s breath as part of his meditation programs like Sudarshana Kriya to make one aware of the present moment. 

    An interesting perspective on understanding ones’ intuitional plane can be seen in the teachings of YPV.  While speaking of connecting the jivatma (lower soul) with the paramatma (higher soul), after establishing connection with the higher soul through Lord’s prayer (Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil) and Affirmation (“I am not the body, I am the Soul (Incarnated Soul). I am not the emotion, I am not the thought, I am not the mind. Mind including mental, emotional, etheric and physical bodies is the subtle instrument of the Soul and I am that Soul.”), Wg Cdr Reddy (Retd) speaks of the Crown Chakra/ Centre and the Forehead and Back head Chakras/ Centres as doors to the higher and lower intuitional plane. Calling them as centres of direct perception, the YPV offers various sadhanas and techniques to increase one’s awareness and become better human beings.

    As per one author, the path to Self – Realization consist of nine steps, Self Awareness, Self Exploration, Self Discovery, Self Understanding, Self Love, Self Transformation, Self Mastery, Self Transcendence which finally leads to Self-Realization. Sri Aurobindo believed reaching profound silence was the first (not the last) and the most important step in self-realization. He believed that silencing the mind and body totally was imperative for the descent of supreme consciousness inside a human body. He said that none could ever hope to bring the higher realms of consciousness into one’s being without this basic and foundational step. The Upanishads spoke of four main paths to self-realization: karma yoga, bhakti yoga, jnana yoga, and raja yoga. Karma yoga is the yoga of action. To perform karma yoga perfectly, you must do every action with the thought that God (or your higher self) is acting through you. When you practice karma yoga truly, you have no desire for a reward or any recognition of your actions, because you know that it was really God, not you, who was the doer. It doesn’t matter so much what you do, although it may be easier when you know that your action is benefiting someone. Mother Teresa and Gandhi are famous examples of karma yogis. Bhakti yoga, the yoga of devotion, is the main focus of many religions. It’s the simplest and sweetest of the paths. Bhakti yogis merge back into God when they have attained perfect divine love. Just as it doesn’t matter what type of action is being done in karma yoga, it also doesn’t matter what the object of one’s devotion is. In Christianity it is Jesus; in Hinduism it can be one of thousands of gods and goddesses or the one infinite God beyond creation; in Islam it is Allah. Gyana or Jnana yoga is finding God through wisdom. Gyana yogis use self-examination and ever-deepening insight to penetrate through their likes and dislikes and extract the seed of Truth. The key is not to become attached to one’s insights into profound truths, which again allows the ego to come in. There is a Sanskrit saying that describes gyana yoga: “neti neti,” meaning, “not this, not that.” Gyana yogis toss aside everything that is not eternal, until all they are left with is God. One well-known gyana yogi is Shankaracharya. Raja yoga combines the three yogas above, with an emphasis on meditation. Meditation helps to strengthen and guide each person’s practice of the other yogas to keep them heading toward God and self-realization.

    Self-realization is not only a withdrawal and detachment process, but it is also a silencing process. You become silent gradually from outer aspects of your beingness into your inner aspects, until you become fully silent. Therefore, the next step in your progress is to rest your imagination completely and enter into a zone of silence. This, in fact, is the last frontier in your quest for truth. The Upanishads see a clear distinction between a yogi who has silenced his desires and awakened to a new knowledge and a seer, who has actually witnessed the true Self. When the mind and body become silent, when intelligence and imagination stop playing games inside your consciousness, when you enter into a deep silence and spend considerable time there, you peel off the last remaining layers of impurities around your Self, which are mostly the past life impressions (samskaras). Then you pass through several states (desas) of samadhi, some in which you will retain little awareness (savikalpa) and some in which you will transcend all subtleties and distinctions (nirvikalpa), until you become your True Self. Some say, this is the end of the journey. After that you are like a rain drop that has fallen into the ocean. Some say, there is one more step, that is coming into contact with Supreme Brahman (brahmasparsa).

    The quantum of knowledge available in our ancient knowledge system is unfathomable and the journey is an arduous one. As members of the Armed Forces tasked with the supreme responsibility of safeguarding the Motherland, even at the peril of our own lives, such a spiritual journey is sine-qua-non for all of us. The recent efforts at national level to revive the ancient knowledge systems and various parallel processes undertaken by premier institutions like the College of Defence Management are small but pivotal steps towards such a noble future. The Thirukkural says that time is but a sword, which keeps cutting away at life. If we thought of life as fleeting, then we would not waste our time, but would want to be of some service to others. 

Womb Rights….

Tikki and Dobbie are the names of our girls..sprightly and affable…cute and curious…puny but everywhere..they are all around when they are not sleeping or eating….barking at people who dare to approach the gate…expressing their annoyance at those who walk or cycle on the road in front…yelping at Scooby, their brother from another mother, and bouncing away when Scooby doesn’t want to play….they are always in a state of animation especially when a hearty meal has to be digested.

But at this moment they are sleeping…not a natural sleep but a sleep induced by an injection of some chemical as a step prior to their spaying or neutering….their breaths deep, eyes fighting to remain open, body and mind refusing to shut down as they can sense the imminent loss…loss of a body part which will get them lifelong freedom from brutal assaults and troublesome males..a life free of pangs of child birth and associated worries.

I ask reena….what is our right over their wombs? How can we deny them their motherly rights? Can we take such a monumental decision…just because they are our girls?…what is the cost benefit analysis between being a mom every six months versus never having a chance of being a mom…when you see the state of poorly fed pups by the road side and malnourished moms and unattended pups who get shunted around, an easier option is surgery even if it entails a cost.

The weekly adoption drives are indicators of public preference for male pups or lack of love for the femmes…female pups are looked down upon due to associated expenses of child bearing and six monthly repetitive days when they are on heat..forgetting the fact that they are the most lovable and adorable and of course the most beautiful….

An evening stroll would also reveal the gender biased world of dogs… The males strutting around to prove their domain or territory while the female of the species, just a silent member or temporarily emboldened by the male attention. The moment she becomes a mom the males carry on leaving her to the whole process of child bearing and care. The cycle repeats every six months and goes on until the poor female is no longer capable of being a baby machine. Those of us not exposed to the Breeder mafia should understand that such a process is replicated when it comes to high end breeds wherein we humans use those silent beings as baby and money making machines with no scruples.

Well, Tikki and Dobbie are now carried in to the operation room..even as another 6 females await their turn under various stages of dissent and worry….Dr says it will take just 20 minutes…but for us it is like 20 hours….minutes become hours even as the hour hand refuses to move…

Two indies is infinitesimal when seen against the large number of Indie population …but then as the saying goes…little drops of water make the mighty ocean…..Hope is the only beacon and point of strength in such a dark and dreary world…

Possession

Is it necessary to possess something if you completely love it? A lovely beautiful flower which you see on the wayside, will you pluck it or rather leave it there to spread its beauty for the balance of its life? First impulse is to take it along but is that the best impulse?

Is it the physical body of the flower that attracted you or the lovable spirit of its innate beauty? If you see the flower as a being, then you will understand it better. The fact that you felt a connection or felt uplifted in its company means there is a connection beyond your comprehension.

Didnt you just upset the balance by plucking that flower and preventing it from connecting to many more other souls with which it could have connected or uplifted? Weren’t you truly and purely selfish?

Can we really posses something or someone? Only takeaway from any interaction or transaction are the memories and the happiness or pain those memories invoke. Can you really possess a puppy which gave you so much of happiness with those innocent trusting eyes? You can of course adopt her but do you still possess her?

During our trips around we spend so much time capturing the scenery around or clicking ourselves with the scenery as a backdrop. How much time do we spend going back to those photos to relive the moments? Is it better to just enjoy the moment rather than trying to capture it in a photo frame and hoping to relive it in a future over which you have no control?

Bhadraj Baar Baar Lagataar…12 Baar

Circa 1997. It was a lazy sunday for many…especially for the second termers at the Indian Military Academy as they had just finished a major runback exercise called Bhadraj…an arduous 30 hour navigation exercise in which one of the check points was the Bhadraj feature. ..locals and tourists visit Bhadraj temple (temple of bal bhadra or Balram) using an easier route but for the gentlemen cadets there is no easy track. It is always the harder right than the easier wrong…..

The Academy was in a celebratory mood. Second termers had finished a major exercise and third termers were busy with their exams. But it was not to be a free day for hapless few like the Lemans who had been ordained to visit bhadraj again. The khaatey peetey bacche were being tasked to forget their khana and go look for a rifle magazine which they had misplaced during the night climb to the top during the run back exercise. To understand why such a small thing as a rifle magazine is so important, you should understand the rules of the game just like any other game or exercise or story.

A runback is organized for a group of gentlemen cadets to test their navigational skills, camaraderie, soldierly skills and fitness levels. Sleep deprivation, fatigue, forced marches, limited food availability are all part of the induced combat environment so as to make these boys ‘men of steel’. Every cadet, in addition to his combat dress and backpack, carries a rifle, some central stores like stretcher, light machine gun, few bullet filled/loaded magazines meant to be used if in dire straits, compass, binoculars and few mini flares meant to indicate own position if lost in thick jungle. Each rifle has it’s own set of 5 magazines which is part of a cadet’s basic kit. The rule states that all the items which were at the start point including the cadets themselves should be present at each checkpoint enroute and at the finish point where a detailed check is carried out. If an item is lost enroute the cadets are expected to report it at the next check point and take a decision from the umpire about continuing with the runback or pausing and looking for the item in day light. Any drop off enroute will attract heavy penalties varying from high penalty for a “cadet dropping off” to a lesser penalty for loss of a smaller item like an empty magazine. Of course, the penalty of a cadet dropping off is equivalent to doing the run again, so that is one event which rarely happens.

Now, how did we lose that magazine or how did the magazine lose itself from the rifle of a capable Leman so as to cause discomfort to all of us that Sunday? Well, that’s a story by itself but I will keep it short and zoom into the Leman runback group that night. We were blindly following our able map readers on the never ending false crests of Bhadraj feature, trundling our personal as well as central stores like stretcher and Light Machine Gun. As many of you would understand, when you climb a mountain, especially when you are fatigued to the point of being a sleepwalker, it’s frustrating to encounter false crests as the exhilaration of reaching the top is lost when you see the top still shining far away. Another miracle is how a sleepwalker is able to move along those narrow mountain paths without falling or slipping into the ravines far below. So, there we were, singing our favourite Leman battle cry and sleepwalking our way onto the third checkpoint of the route, i.e.Bhadraj temple, when we were forced to take a break as a hailstorm stuck. The temple was now not so distant and the yellow lantern light (normally placed at checkpoints) could be seen as a welcoming speck few crests away but the wet sheet of tiny ice balls and water made us wet to the bones.

We just dropped our sweaty selves onto the narrow pebbly mountain track with our legs dangling towards the deep ravine most of which was obscured due to darkness and a fine white mist which was filling the valley. Out came the haldiram and bourbon packets, some chit chats, some deep sighs, some cribs about a childhood basketball injury which was now playing up, etc etc.. the hailstorm took a break and we were all up on our wobbly feet to present ourselves at the next checkpoint. That’s the time when the proverbial thunderbolt struck. Our josh box Goyal reported that he dropped his rifle magazine and his buddy Ally reconfirmed that he sighted the magazine taking seven bounces into the misty folds of the ravine. We had 2 options- search for a magazine which has bounced at least seven times and gone beyond obscurity or trudge towards the yellow glimmer of hope not so far away. We opted for the easier one, dutifully walked into Bhadraj checkpoint, reported a lost magazine and requested Umpire to let us finish the runback or help us search for it. The delicious hot chocolate served at the check point was tempting many to drop it all and report sick. Decision  soon came to finish the runback, ofcourse with concomitant penalties, which didn’t do much to improve our runback performance which as such was not so stellar considering the fact that the main  focus of any Leman is to shine on the Obstacle Course and not a runback.

So, this sunday was dedicated to Ally and Goyal, who promised a treat in main cafe that evening as a compensation for the bounced magazine. A Maruti Gypsy and an Eicher van got us closer to the objective but the Bhadraj top was still one hour plus of 60 to 75 degree slopes and we were accompanied by none other than our own 3 platoon commander Capt Sahatpure, of whom I have spoken enough in the last article.

Capt Sahatpure was a walking talking molten lava that day and the proximity to Bhadraj or Balram who is also famous for his short temper seemed to have added onto our platoon commander’s rigour. He tasked us to  climb the hill and find out the magazine without wasting his Sunday hours. We, like good Lemans, set sail or set foot on the Bhadraj feature, walked 30 minutes, reached the spot and commenced our search. Maybe it was the day light, or the Sunday mood or our joie de vivre, the magazine was found within few minutes, not very far away from where it had dropped off. What Ally saw as seven bounces that night emerged as an optical illusion played by his tired mind..in hindsight, we would have found the magazine had we searched for it that night itself…

The good Lemans that we were and with the prospect of a Sunday feast awaiting in the Main Cafe, courtesy Goyal and Ally, we informed the grand recovery of the bouncy magazine over radio set to our platoon commander who was waiting at the base of the Bhadraj feature. Life can never be so simple, right? Lose some store, earn negative points, spoil a Sunday and then feast away into the afternoon..which self respecting platoon commander can let karma do it’s job..

Capt Sahatpure had special plans for us as the day was bright and promising. Orders came over the radio set to continue with our trek to Bhadraj top to pay obeisance to Lord Balram and thank him for keeping our magazine safe. The good boys that we were, on we went under the command of our to be Senior Under Officer Saurav Kapoor who was tasked to give a report from the hill top once the trek was completed..we were all fresh as well as eager to finish off the magazine story, so the climb was executed in super human time and saukaps was on air calling Sahatpure to report “All in”. Knowing us inside out, Sahatpure sir was not convinced and ordered a line up on the hill top to have a physical count through his binoculars. With that part also done, next order was to reach base in double time which was also executed with an alarming sense of discipline which I am sure would have alarmed even our Platoon Commander and gave him more ideas.

Just as we were making plans for balance of the Sunday, we heard the order to go back up the hill which was unbelievable for many but for some, they had the expression of “I told you”. So, off we went once again, up the hill to disturb the morning siesta of Lord Balram but at a slower pace than before. A 45 minute climb at first go, was replicated with a 1 hour 30 minutes performance which now had our Platoon Commander in full boil mode. Presence of some other company personnel on similar search mission, glaring sun, fatigue of last few days were some of the reasons our poor Saukaps had to convey to Sahatpure sir over the radio set even as the only acknowledgment from the other end was “bloody chaps” to the nth order. We really had him on a boil, that we knew ..but the presence of the Lord was emboldening us to test our platoon commander’s patience further. A line up on top similar to last climb revealed two personnel less as they were cooling their heels under the lone umbrella tree that was also providing shade to Lord Bhadraj. After many animated threats over radio set and with field signals (to see which we had to use binoculars which were only two in number), our Platoon commander could see a full lineup on the hill top. The order that followed was a repeat of the last but we were expected to roll down the hill, literally. That task was also soon completed with the hope that our actions will assuage the hurt feelings of our platoon commander, but that was not to be so.

The Lemans climbed Bhadraj 12 times that day with every trip changing the karma balance in each of our lives. Our platoon commander was beyond lava state and our minds had stopped thinking maybe after the 4th iteration…the Lord, well, he slept off after our 2nd trip itself as he could sense our lack of interest in any spiritual goals straight away. Well, shouting “La mere hathode ko and maar @#%^! Ke @#&@@ ” would surely come under one of the top crimes you can commit in his abode. Forgive us oh lord, for our focus was on appeasing our other Lord i.e. our platoon commander who was moving up one decibel after each trip of ours much to our consternation.

Somewhere on the slopes of Bhadraj that day, a line was crossed. A threshold was reached or a Rubicon was crossed and a breath of daredevilry was born in all of us. Enough of this shouted many, what the beep beep shouted some..this is not fair said some …and thus was born our “Plan Roy”…. The stretcher which we were industriously carrying up and down all the 12 times gave us a wonderful idea and the main protagonist became our own Souvik who was the slimmest with a 22inch waistline. Plan Roy involved reporting that Souvik had a fall, almost the same place that the magazine was supposed to have bounced and the balance of the plan was left to survive first contact with Sahatpure. Glucose powder was used to make Souvik’s face filled with sweat marks to add on to the dehydrated look.

Our eager and hot platoon commander who was awaiting our arrival soon heard the commotion and a loud cry from Souvik. Over the radio set it was conveyed to him that Roy had hurt his knee and we would take another hour to get him down. Even a threat from the platoon commander to climb up and meet us halfway didn’t deter us as we took a long long break after our to and fro trips to the Lord’s abode. After a long long wait, we commenced our stroll down the hill side silently bidding goodbye to the Lord whom we hoped to meet under better circumstances. Our casualty Roy was alternating between lying (on a stretcher) and walking depending on the visibility from ground zero.

It was soon time to meet our platoon commander…an experienced soldier himself who was also the product of the RIMC where he would have surely seen many such dramas. Rant and rave he did…made us carry Roy here and there..made us crawl through a small passage under a rock through which we had to even pass Roy on a stretcher. Poor Roy, we had to really shove him down that hole like a cork into a wine bottle to make our story stick.

Maybe it was time to move back or maybe our platoon commander realized that we had reached a point of no return….he ordered us to move back to Base. Happy (albeit shortlived) that our drama won us a quick ticket home, we jumped on to the soothing comfort of Eicher Van’s cushioned seats only to be summoned for another fall in by our scorned commander. In clear words without any sugar coating, he informed us that he had seen through our charade and told us to make up for the same by walking back to our barracks. It was like the false crest of a mountain..a moment of happiness followed by that of gloom…

The now hardened Lemans, followed the Gypsy and Eicher Van in a silent trance..a sort of death walk,  which would have beaten the setting of any movie known for its gloom and tragedy. Seconds became minutes and minutes into an hour when our platoon commander again summoned us to give another moral insight into the depths of Mariana triangle that we had plunged into urging us to become better human beings…

The day indeed was a molotov cocktail of karma and dharma, sweat and toil, satya and asatya combined with the heady mix of 12 back to back visits to the abode of the Lord himself. Our balance sheet of karma would have been a crisscross of dots and dashes. Seeing our plight or maybe it was time to break off the civil drivers, capt Sahatpure ordered us back to the bus with a rejoinder that the movie will continue back in Leman company.

Off we moved out from that bleaky landscape..our tummies were rumbling and main cafe was waiting…afterall it was the day of the “bouncy magazine” but it was we Lemans who were now bouncing in a vintage Eicher Van after scoring a century on the Bhadraj feature. Yes, a star was born that day…a true star, our own bengali moshe Roy who could defend a story that we all trusted upon him to save us from further climbs even at the peril of being caught….

Vikram iyengar the baritoned dramatist did indeed make Roy a central figure in his future narrations/ skits and I am sure Sahatpure sir would have had his share of hiccups……

Dedicated to those Lemans who are unable to read and comment here as they have joined the Lord…party we shall ..

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