Hulchal in Yam Lok

The invasion of cell phones and the penetration of internet have brought humanity within a touching distance of a micrometer. This has resulted in countless benefits and some nuisance value added irritants.  The protagonists might side with the benefits and the antagonist protesting against the nuisance value these technologies are creating .Not to be left behind, the television with extensive coverage and formidable reach did its part in shaping the likes and dislikes of the society.

If by chance Yam dharma decides to come down to earth, he will be confused at the sight of millions of people holding their dear lives in their hands. His confusions would be whether the person has life or the Smartphone? And which one would lead him to take out the soul of the person, on the appointed day?

The same will be the case with Chitragupta as he stands awestruck by the influence and reach of Google rivaling that of his master Yama, perhaps! He will also pause to wonder whether there is a Wikipedia published in the internet about death and the patal lokas! He would not understand the craze of youngsters asking Google about ice cream to an Iceland trip and the speed and grace with which Mr. Google enlightened them. He will be disappointed to accept that his astral notebook paled into an insignificant digital work, In comparison.

After hearing about all these satirical remarks purportedly made by humanoids on earth, both of them held a closed door meeting at a quiet corner of Yam Lok. Actually the quiet corner was nothing but a sound-proof enclosure, built at the insistence of Chitragupta after detecting leaking of sensitive information from Yam Lok. After deep deliberations they came to the collective conclusion that the old proverb “What you have learnt is only a fistful of sand” is wholly inadequate to explain the learning one gets through these two gadgets. They also decided to keep Brahma in the loop as at a future date his and Saraswathi’s domain may come under siege from these gadgets.

During a leisurely walk around the dungeon precincts, it suddenly dawned upon them that not including Vishnu & Siva in the loop was a blunder and tacitly decided to make amends before any Yam Lok leak reaches their ears. Secretly each one was assessing the other “whether he could be the source of the leak?” Knowing fully well that unsaid words well kept secrets, they kept quiet.

The news had certain impact on Brahma; he and Saraswathi had many institutions of learning on earth. If he showed undue interest in the matter it might be construed as self-interest. So he decided not to do anything about it!

Vishnu immediately formed two one-person commissions to assess the situation. He felt no threat from the cell towers and Mr. I-Know-all. Lakshmi Devi detected no signs for a financial meltdown. So they decided to let things be.

At Kailash the situation was totally different. Siva was holding court with the bootha ganas. The discourse was on “3rd eye”. He had decided to take the fight into the camps of cell gurus and net gurukuls, by opening this floodgate. His grand strategy was to empower all the humanoids with a 3rd eye to defend themselves from these electronic invaders. The ganas rose in a thunderous applause which caused massive landslides and earthquakes all over the earth. His smile was a cosmic satire!

Yama and Chitragupta received the shock of their lives when the TV they were watching came with a breaking news. The bare all T V had somehow managed to get a scoop on their secret meetings, Brahma’s dilemma, Vishnu’s commission of inquiry and Siva’s mass empowerment programme. The bleeding wound was being repeatedly rubbed with raw salt by repeat telecast of the same news under the same breaking news category. Fearing repercussions both of them left Yam Lok on an extended trip into deep space.

Peace eluded them even in deep space. Ghost TV channels aired “panel discussions’ sparing none of them. The ghosts from the past, with their spirited discussions, have decided to haunt them with Godspeed!

The retirement benefit - 2

After an active life, including the travel by overcrowded public transports or personal conveyance, a professional vacuum is created. By nature, vacuum draws everything inside but the professional vacuum is quite different. It throws out lot of free time, every day of the year now, equaling the time spent away from home during the office-goers’ busy life.

The thoroughbreds would have prepared an engagement schedule and they don’t get weighed down by the free time syndrome. Reemployment opportunities are explored, personal interest projects such as hobbies, community service or post-retirement studies are pursued. By keeping the professionally acquired skills alive and judiciously mixing it with their current avocation, they easily slot the free time for purposeful spending.

Friends and relatives never fail to ask this type, “Now that you have free time, how are you sending it? The polite answer will invariably be, “Actually I could do with little more time. I pursue hobbies and social work or am seriously engaged in my second innings as a professional or shuttling between sons and daughters residences, extending any small help they need”.

The middle of the course runners manage it by hurriedly charting out a plan of action.  They sort of test the waters before plunging into a life of continuing activity. This sandwich type spends a little time in envying the adaptability of the thoroughbreds and secretly yearning to join with the stragglers but ruing the lack of to do so! 

For the question “how are you managing now?”, the answer might be any one of these: “somehow I am managing right now ; but in the long run unless I start looking for a job or take to serious reading or choose some sort of a hobby, it is going to be tough. A stream of envy keeps running through their thoughts “how well Mr. X has planned for a retired life. Why it did not strike me at all?”

The stragglers or the old fashioned thermometers, look at free time in dismay only to huff and puff along trying to emulate the peers in the field. They come to the platform laden with luggage of past misses, self pity and lack of will to unshackle their potential. These sorts of people have spent most of their professional life without sticking to a game plan, constantly shrugging out of it like the mercury in the capillary tube. 

For the straggler, the forced free time weighs heavily on the mind. Friends and relatives offer no guidance as he had ignored them for long. The thought about not developing a healthy friendship circle starts to hurt, inhibiting personal approach. So far none of them have even enquired, “how are you now  or what are you doing? 

Whatever be the case, this retirement benefit is not only a monetary cushion but about earning the emotional wealth. The emotional wealth could be the satisfaction of doing something good or learning to change perceptions in the light of newer experiences.

Armchair Psychiatrist:

Finding useful things to do in leisure time is one thing and finding to do anything to spend idle time is another. Having exhausted the list of useful things, I was drawn into a vortex of identifying anything to do, useful to me or to others or not. I chose fruits which get filled in the fridge and forgotten like the slogan “fill it and forget it”. Bike riders who followed this admonishment did exactly the same thing or  is not known to me!

Pomegranate is a hard fruit to get at its soft pearls of taste.  While trying to part the rind, the pearls shoot off harmlessly but leaves a telltale mark of juice on the person or on  the mosaic floor, as if to make its mark. The question why nature has given it such a thick and difficult skin cover is a pertinent question. The grenade on the other hand is soft on the spelling but explodes shooting out shrapnel; injury and death are its mark.

The wily pomegranate fruit serves as a useful tool to study the mental makeup and attitude, in any house-hold. It is enough to give a person the task of separating the pearls from this fruit. The orderly way a person approaches the job indicates a patient and careful being. Little impatience and little mess left on the operation table places the person at the above average mark. The operation theater looking like a battlefield, torn rinds, dyed clothes and stained floor, tells the story of  the ‘not up to any mark person’.

The bunch of banana  is a different fruit altogether. The bunch is connected to the main umbilical by a arc type secondary umbilical. Individual fruit is in touch with the secondary by finger like third umbilical, which is unique for each fruit in the bunch.  From flower to birth a banana, it is cocooned in a veil. But for all these complications, it is easiest fruit to peel.

One who starts to peel it by twisting its head is the one to watch – the person is in a tearing hurry and as long as the peeling is done no care is shown about the wounds inflicted on the poor fruit. One who starts the process from the rear end of the fruit is little better – shows readiness to go about the work on hand without hurry.

The best peeler is the one, who holds the fruit head down, nips the rear knotty portion and then starts to peel the outer skin, strip by strip to expose the fruit as needed to eat it; strives to do everything in a proper fashion.

Psychiatrists ask questions and lot of them. Likewise the person on the couch may have a few. If your questions are: “Why this fruit analogy and what is your success rate (might be a cricket enthusiast!), in correctly analyzing a person and why do you do it?”

My answers, again based on analogy, will be:

“They don’t fret when I peel them layer by layer. Personally I am the one to prepare them, for my folks in a ready to eat condition!”

“The 2nd question you just now asked, itself speaks about my success rate”

“The last question is a bit philosophical but the answer will be practical: all who water gardens need not be enthused about the job; some do it for livelihood, some do it to show off and some as an activity to spend idle time. There is category you see!”

“The confused voice from the couch asks, to which category you belong!?”

“I will answer you but one condition that you don’t reveal this to anyone else, OK? I place myself in between the show off and idle time category”.
Wondering where it got in to, the confused voice from the couch fell silent.

“Will you help to … fruit?’ brought me up to the reality, of peeling fruits!

Softcorner

 A pleasant surprise was in store for Muser as Bystander was planning to visit with him. Not aware of this unannounced intent of Bystander, Muser himself had planned to call upon him sometime later. For a long time both of them have not spoken to each other face to face. He recollected that it was an ugly spat over an amateurish representation by Mr. Tom, in a writers’ forum. Muser wanted to forget the incident but Bystander was incensed about it.

There was no ice breaking ceremony after the cold standoff. Both knew that their friendship is beyond being only in “speaking terms”. A hard hand shake and a wry smile was all that was needed to raise the white flag. They could easily get back to old ways by the time a cup of coffee could be finished.

Within minutes an animated discussion started covering mutual interest happenings and inevitably Bystander blurted out the question still haunting him. Why Muser let off Mr. Tom so easily?

Muser did not acknowledge hearing the question as his thoughts were elsewhere and faraway. Though he had debated it within himself – whether to explain it to Bystander or not. He decided to so now.

The problem with Mr. Tom was his slow reaction time. This you yourself know about, is it not? That made him speechless when so many questions were thrown at him, even though he had all the answers. By that time he could make up his mind, he lost his nerve at the thought of failing to deliver at the right time. So he left in a hurry and this made you become more than usually annoyed as you felt he has failed me. “So far are you in agreement with me?” asked Muser.

“Do you remember when we first met both had inhibitions, both were struggling to cogently speak out our thoughts? Do you still remember me telling you that in my formative days I used rehearse and then only speak or write, after making a mess of it? , without waiting for a reply, Muser started the next part of his reasoning.

“Was it not the same in your case too? Now tell me what do I do when I find a person placed in a similar piquant situation like we experienced once?” 

“I did the natural thing. I got over it with a little understanding for Tom’s predicament”, Muser finished in a conciliatory voice.

Bystander did not want to hear the unabridged version of the succinct explanation offered by Muser, verbatim.  If that had taken place this is what probably would have transpired:

“Flexibility in understanding and inflexibility to do so decides the outcome of any action we take. Such an action creates a reaction which gains our attention and disturbs our emotional state, notwithstanding the friendship in question”.

"If I had failed to keep inflexibility out of my reasoning, the understanding with which I viewed Tom’s failure would not have happened. OK?”

“In that case, both of us would be suffering with guilt for some time.  Now, because I could understand and said so to Tom, both of us got over it soon.”

“ In fact, Tom called on me yesterday with some lecture notes. If I had been harsh in my judgment, he wouldn't have come all the way to meet me. Probably this will make it easier for you to understand why I did what I did!”

Bystander understood the implied admonition regarding his continuing impulsive nature while judging people. Though, he was in no hurry to apply the brake on his inflexible attitude towards Tom,he quietly agreed with Muser’s views and simply said, “You have a very soft corner indeed”.

Tom's garden rises from weeds!

Tom did not want to give up easily on failures, though a little distraught while counting them. The seedy look of his garden was an eyesore and just closing his eyes on it, he started to count slowly his gain in immovable assets – dozen or so plastic pots, nursery-type polythene sachets and a few paint tins and the stock of fertile soil.

  

He nostalgically recollected the laser-eyes of people watching him in the streets, confused stray dogs in a dilemma whether to give him a chase or to simply bark and keep quiet! Then and there he decided to start afresh with a different set of plans. During lunch break, he thought, “This will be the best way to let know Bystander that, Tom is a toughie”. He also recalled the phrase ‘rising like a phoenix from ash’ or some such thing to buttress his resolve.

A lucky break came his way and he grasped it with all two hands, fearing to let go that opportunity.The family had planned a sea side trip, by car, and Tom knew the route passed through a mountainside.  In his mind there was no doubt that many exotic plants might be growing there for him to select and gather. He got ready with a shears, picking tool, small plastic cans filled with soil, a can of water and of course a hand sprayer.  He did not forget to add a pair of leather gloves to deal with thorns, if any.

When the family enjoyed the scenic beauty, he was busy looking at the plants rushing at either side, though within an hour his neck started to complain the rate at which it was being turned from left to right and vice versa. His mind was in a tizzy as he constantly updated the plant information with geographical location and threatening it to remember them all on the return trip.

He was disinterested in the activities at the sea resort, except the chance he got to explore the shore for wild plants of interest. At every available opportunity, he let his family know that he had come with them only to collect wild plants and as he had agreed to their proposal for this holiday they in turn should let him have his wish, on the way back. His frequent reminders spoiled their mood and secretly every one regretted taking him along.

Tom’s night times were spent in sleep punctuated with a constant stream of dreams on plants already seen or he hoped to see. Even in dreams, his meager botanical knowledge hung like a ‘Damocles’ sword hanging ready to fall’ on him. In the mornings, he spent time in worrying whether he will be able to collect at least a few wild plants to keep the eager mouths of the family gaping instead of yapping!  Holding his, ever ready to flare temper in check (reserved for the family only), he eagerly awaited the announcement of departure from the resort. To be honest with himself, he admitted that the rolling waves, dolphins, breeze, the cackle of sea gulls or the brisk walk of terns on the beach did not interest him much.

Before midday on the third day, Tom sensed the imminent departure from the quirky looks he got from every member of the family. He braced himself for the upcoming ‘flora exploration’ and the drive back home. Like the batsmen at the crease, he was eager to open the account in the first kilometer itself. Here he was batting on a sure wicket as he had a vivid picture of a flaming red orchid type plant, near the first left turn on the road. With a collective glare expressing ‘is it so soon?’, the car came to a halt with a jolt.Tom sensed the beginning of a breach of contract.

It took him all of 15 minutes to dig, loosen, uproot the plant and transfer to the carrying ‘pot’. This interminable wait clearly showed as annoyance in the faces of the family, though secretly they admired the dedication with which the operation was carried out. On closer look, Tom found out that the plant needed careful nurturing to pacify it to grow in his garden.

Without their knowledge, he had already collected a number of wild creepers from the sea shore and kept them in the car when a suitable opportunity presented itself on the second day itself, at the resort. Next on his agenda was a teak wood like tree but with medium sized leaves and plenty of cluster white flowers. From a distance the tree appeared to be wearing a snow cap. Tom had detailed plans for it – get a cutting, spring it to life and continue growing it as a bonsai. Not knowing about bonsai techniques did not deter him at all. Such was the burning intensity of anger to show Bystander his place. Tom patiently waited for the place and plant to come in to his sight.

This operation took more time as he had to survey, select and part from the main tree a healthy branch of an inch in thickness and 12” long. He immediately covered the sectioned end with multiple layers of cello tape. He gave the green signal, to the red faced occupants, only after moistening the stem and leaves with water.

The atmosphere inside the compact car was slowly becoming hostile. Audible clues told him all – heavy sighing, crunching gear changes and the cushioning springs counting the number of pot holes on the road. Tom patiently waited to arrive at the next ‘prospecting spot’, holding his breath and bones. Here waited the mother of all his dream plants!

Tom congratulated himself for the afterthought of bringing along the ancient binocular with him. It was unwieldy and in his eagerness to peer through the lenses, he had hit the elbow, chin or ear of the passenger sitting by the side of him, during his right turns inside the car. One was a severe smash and even his eyes hurt a little when the impact was transmitted through the viewer of the binocular. That is when he saw it! In pain and suffering the withering glares of his co-passengers, he managed to eyeball the landmarks on either side of the road, hoping to come back and collect the specimen.

Oh what a sight it was! He mentally relived the location map for his own benefit. He had two days to perfect the picture and plan the approach. The plant, actually a tree growing inside another, sat on a gentle slope of a huge rock, almost near the spot where the slope became a level surface. The outcrop or promontory , almost at ground level, promising easy approach. More than this geography, what interested Tom was rocky mountain started its climb from the irregular oblong shaped piece of rock on which his plant was anchored. In his passing glance, mercifully the car had to slow down after that Himalayan bump, he admired the tenacity of the roots holding the tiny rock in an octopus like embrace.It reminded Tom of a prey clutched tightly by the talons of an eagle. He did not want to miss this ‘granite’ opportunity, even at the cost of an internecine war with the clan.

On the way back home, he had no difficulty to spot his plant, as the location was at the place of that Himalayan bump, encountered three days ago. With a little slithering and huffing he reached the ‘mother of all the plants’. Up close, the main plant holding the piece of rock appeared to be a peepal variety, which for some reasons stopped growing beyond a foot high. It had thin branches with not many leaves but looking healthy. The surprise that greeted him was in the middle portion of the stunted stem. It was hollow and has allowed another seed to sprout to grow as a plant (indeterminate type). As per his estimate the weight he had to carry down might be around 7 to 10 kg.He decided to invoke Atlas & Hercules for physical strength. 

The irregular shaped rocky piece had two projections. Using these points as handles, Tom hefted the rock a little above its resting place. Then he gingerly carried it down the slope, feeling like a thief, stealing from nature. Yet he was sure that neither the plant will be missed nor a complaint will be lodged! On the spur of the moment, decided to call his find as ‘moat–on- rock’. He had time even to imagine the smiling face of Muser and an astonished Bystander, when he explains it as ‘mother of all trees on rock’!

Once his ‘mughal’ garden took shape, with his own exotic finds and regular nursery grown varieties, he wanted to showcase his efforts to Muser and his bet noir Bystander. He hoped to derive a little satisfaction in proving Mr. Bystander wrong!

One thing he did not want to repeat was the eagerness with which he had used social media to publicise his gardening effort. This time around, he was sure; the publicity will come to his garden on its own!

Understanding a father (or) woes of kids

 Journal pages ....

Our father is a scientist, of course not the white coated research type, because he has a degree in science. In professional life he had to work in environments bordering on a little research, engineering and of course the science which was at a higher level than his learning.

Here we have to pass to admire his tenacity and single minded concentration to gather additional knowledge from these disciplines. He spent more time with printed characters than with real characters living in the house. While steadily rising in the ladder of knowledge, he failed to recognize that he was equally receding from the nucleus of family affairs to such an extent that he had to be introduced to relatives during auspicious functions. That is if at all he chose to accompany us. The scientist in him failed to understand that “intensity wanes according to the inverse square law”.

Even an innocuous possession like a refrigerator gave him a chance to “braid us the kids and prepare us for the future”. Maybe he wanted us to be winning horses. This must have rubbed on us and hence we ended up using “braid” to mean pony tail or simply a young horse’s tail, metaphorically! Without bothering to know of our interest & level of understanding, he went on and on about Boyle’s, Charles’s laws , triple point and following it up with Carnot’s cycle to end with an lecture about the functioning of a refrigerator.We did not like any of this and particularly the Carnot cycle for valid reasons: All we wanted was to have cold drinks, an occasional ice cream kept in the freezer and a bicycle like the one our playmates had.

The urge to master engineering skills was raging like a storm in his mind. This directly impacted on our lives. Favourite toys which were still in working condition were stripped down, reassembled and in the process finding parts that should have gone inside are happily breathing fresh air on the assembly bench! To hide his dismay, he would often quote “Peter’s principles” or Murphy’s laws making us to wonder whether they are friends are enemies. Yet he was lovable, he replaced the now defunct toys with newer ones!

His dream to be a teacher had eluded him; yet kept the ambition burning and we felt the heat. From kindergarten to school final, our text books bore his indelible mark – explanatory notes written in miniaturized handwriting, that he practiced especially for us. As we grew up, this habit of his made us feel shy even to show our textbooks to friends. His weekly tests spoiled our appetite for any holiday!

The oral sessions were a ‘class’ act  in itself as he found many innovative ways to explain a simple concept, whatever the subject is. A bunch of sharpened pencils and a bound notebook was all he needed to create the class room atmosphere. In this aspect he was very magnanimous and lectured to any willing pair of ears of a neighbour’s son or street kids.

His overflowing flood of information, literally swamping, made us to gasp for a breather. There were many days when we felt that the classes he did not get to teach in a school were lucky! Commencing our higher education, we secretly jettisoned his way of study. Somehow he had sensed this departure and is still maintaining his stoic silence about it. We admire him for this.

During the early stages of our professional career, he came up with fertile and imaginative ideas urging us to take them forward. No doubt, if we had asked for help he would have even come with plans to execute them. This verve, never say don’t know and never say can’t do attitude endeared him to us and to feel sorry that he could not find these avenues for himself. We do not know whether he lacked self-confidence or was shackled in an economic quagmire, at that time.

He was a store of hobbies and unfortunately he chose to dump them all on our unwilling minds. Not to let anything go by easily, he tried to impress with us with the stamps, coins and artifacts collected by him or by him on behalf of us, till we finished our studies. Our continued lack of interest must have unsettled his plans and as a fallback measure, he has decided to pass them on to his grandchildren. A master in dreaming up plans, contingencies and counter contingencies! Even today, this aspect of him leaves us amazed.

He is a powerful search engine for lost or misplaced things. He finds time and energy to see the end of it, without bothering about the value of the item. Though this spoiled a chance to get a replacement, we sheepishly listened to his dictum “missing something is not great but the act of negligence is! What we did not understand was his readiness to offer this service to anyone, on demand.

We found him often taking to his roots - this is how he chose to call his hobby in gardening. It was a nightmare for us as we had to get educated on flora too. Even today, his passion for experimenting with plants has not shown any sign of diminishing. After every periodic visit, we felt the experience of living in the wild. Secretly we exchanged notes on this – “nobody ever need to worry about extinction of wild plants; they can look at them in our garden!”

Leisurely when we went through his knowledge assets, it was astonishing! The experience was like going through a handful of encyclopedia. The fact that this bibliophile had found time to gather such wide ranging knowledge and managing to retain all of them in memory brought home the truth – “yes, now we know the man, our father!”

With children on our laps, maybe we would like to clear these haunting questions from our minds. Whether during some stage of his professional life he had decided family is the prime focus overriding the many ambitious projects he wanted to pursue? Did he suffer pangs of guilt in letting go these dreams one by one? Did he ever regret thinking why he should care so much for the family? Why he never talked about these things?Fo r all his worth, why did not occur that his way of thinking is decades old and our priorities are different? We have no heart to even to whisper this thought to ourselves fearing his dismay.

He is a now an experienced scientist, engineer and of course a versatile know-all. We are now worried, with our fingers crossed tightly, about the influence he will have on his grand kids! It would have been better in our childhood and now of course for our children if only he should have earned those doctorates in science and engineering disciplines. With hindsight, we feel:  May be this could have allowed us to enjoy our childhood a little more!

He was pleasing to anybody only on his terms and odds were better if that person shared any one of his passion in life! When we truly understood him, short comings apart, he always found a reason to do anything that had something to teach him in return. Being what he is, even now he tries to teach us what he has learnt! This is the shortcomings part. On any scale he would not get placed near the top but in every scale he would be standing at the 3/4th mark. Willing or unwilling we continue to be his experimental lab.

To us he remains an enigmatic person and unless he speaks out his mind, the enigma will stay. But before stopping at this point, we gladly say “we love you dad”, just to keep him away from planning to pamper the grand children! Indomitable that he is, might just do that for the love of it!