*From & To Sathish* - Thread 4 - Page 63

Good morning. I wish you all a peaceful and contented day.

When Vanith, my sister messaged me " Rajanna passed away", my first thought was, " Who, which Rajanna?" and only a few moments later did it hit me that it was our Rajanna.

The very same Rajanna, that was a permanent pillar and foundation of presence in all our cousin's lives. A quiet, pleasant and incredibly hard-working man and a joy to be with and to have around. The same cannot be said about many others who now exist around us.

Scene break and I sat quietly in the room given to us and my thoughts and heart were full of memories as I tried hard to assimilate all the data that my brain still remembered and it was back to the 2nd or 3rd std and that is my earliest memory of Rajanna.

Sadly, my last memory and the last time I met him was back in 2011 and sadly it was for his sisters, our Mani akka's funeral. I remember how irritated he got with his wife Yashoda who insisted on him clicking a photo of both of us in the then camera phone.

I looked at Rajanna and said, ' Anna, Probably you see me as that kid that you drove to school and back and that teenager that you taught Rummy and three cards. But, I am all grown up now and an actor to boot, so let her be and let it be'.

Growing up, Seenanna, Murthy, Rajanna were my heroes and I wanted to grow up and be like them, all tough and macho.

2011 was the last time that I met Rajanna although news kept traveling to Chennai from Bengaluru about him and his family and that they had adopted two kids, twins in fact and were now complete.

But, his diabetes and probably his carelessness knocked on his health and he was incomplete once again for he was minus one leg.

Rajanna had fought hard in his life and worked towards making something out of what he was given and ran a mess for sometimes and then purchased a property on which he was building an apartment block.

Sadly, he died of a heart attack just a few days before the GRUHAPRAVESAM.

Looks like diabetes and hearts don't get along well and both have to be constantly monitored or else suffer the consequences.

I sat quietly reminiscing about long lost times and forgotten memories and happenings that I wish I had frozen via words in a diary.

Namma life kooda oru diary thaan.Every day is a page and every date is a date with destiny.

With my hands under my head as a pillow, I stared at the ceiling and wondered about it all, this rush, this voyage, and this life.

The door opened and ushered in the Assistant director and with him the noises of the shooting that was happening outside and he said softly, ' Annavaru, shot ready sir'.

Rajanna then and Annavaru me, now.

I sighed in total nirvana, and let out the breath that was filled with death and walked out as

" Harischandra garu" the head of the Telugu serial that will be on air soon in ETV and is titled " SHRIMANTHUDU".

First, the director and then many a time, the Associate director kept telling me ( with great respect), ' sir, very important scene sir'.

Calmly and fully composed, I smiled, ' let's do it'.

It was a scene where I am paralyzed and I get an attack of fear and guilt and scream and wail in pain and roll on the ground.

Why do we wail?

Baby, who do you cry for?

What did you bring for you to take back?

What is your's baby?

What remains in the end, long after you are gone?

Only, only that which made people feel better and that which moved them.

Love. Pure and unadulterated love and Empathy for only when we put ourselves in the other's shoes do we or can we really feel what they are feeling.

Aforward. Author unknown

TheTrump-Modi chat on Kashmir

mediation: How it happened

Modi: Hello Donaald!

Trump: Yo, Mo’!

Trump: (Turning to press reporters) I was gonna callhim “Narendra” but Modi is so much easier. And then I thought, hmmm, “Mo” iseven better than “Modi”, and rolls off the tongue, just rolls off. “Mo” isbetter than “Narendra.” Narrrrrenndra! Sounds like one of those big beautifulmotorbikes revving. Narrrrrrrrrrrrennnnndra!

Modi: (blinking and speechless, and slightly red inthe face) …

Trump: So what’s up, my little man?

Modi: I …what?...

Trump: So what do you to relax?

Modi: I …work. All the time…

Trump: See, that’s the problem. You need to relax abit. What do you do to relax?

Modi: I … er.. meditate. Very important to meditate.You should meditate

Trump: You want me to mediate?

Modi: Not mediate...Meditate! Meditation!!

Trump: Mediate-meditate, tomato - tomaato,potato-potaato, it’s all the same. So where do you wanna meditate-mediate?

Modi (wiping brow with large handerchief): .It isbest to meditate in a beautiful place

Trump: Like Kashmir?

Modi: Er.. yes…

The rest as they say, is Breaking News !

Jannal Oram 322

Commissioner of Police, Chennai, A. K. Viswanathan IPS smiled indulgently and asked

' comedy tima Advocate sir ' to which Raman replied, ' Trending time sir. It is not every day that a civilian gets to travel with a high-ranking officer and that too with an armed police escort'.

Both got into the car and watching it move away, Inspector Yesudas, Sub-Inspector Anandan looked at their immediate senior officer Assistant Commissioner Damodaran, ' sir, enna sir nadakuthu inge. Onnu puriyaliye sir'.

V.K.Singh smiled and nodded to Brigadier Sooryanarayanan and both left in their vehicles and Inspector Yesudas even more agitated than before and with an angst tinged voice,' what is going on sir? Who were those two gentlemen who just left us and what was the Commissioner doing here and what is his business with a civilian and that too one we were just about to question in a murder case?'

Sub-Inspector Anandan mumbled in frustration, ' Yaara believe panrathunu theriyala. Oru retired officer, that too a DSP has been murdered and the commissioner takes away the accused and personally escorts him in his own official vehicle.'

He kicked an empty coke can that was in his left foot's reach in anger and nearly fell down after his kick missed it by quite a few inches and it was AC Damodaran who held him and prevented him from falling down.

He looked at both of them, ' Do you think both of you know better than me or the commissioner himself? Do you think you know better than the two men who just left and one is a brigadier and the other the deputy director of RAW? Lastly and most importantly, do you think you know better or have do you think you have more power than the Chief Minister himself?'

Both, Inspector and SI stood in full attention and with a growing sense of trepidation, and watched AC Damodaran observe them from head to toe, ' SI, how many murder cases are still pending in this area? How many petty cases are still in FIR stage?' and turning to Inspector Yesudas, ' Tell me why do your area people call you Insai arasan like the comedian's film Imsai arasan and what does Insai even mean?'

Inspector Yesudas swallowed and tried to clear an already dry and parched throat and realizing that the AC would not leave him until he had answered, ' sir, Insai = Inspector+Imsai sir'.

AC Damodaran with a sad smile looked away and raising his hand signaled to his vehicle and then turned to both his subordinates, ' Chief minister, Deputy director, Brigadier podhuma. That Raman who you are so casual with your half-baked opinions is a bloody great advocate and is on the bar council of the High Court.'

His vehicle came close and AC Damodaran raised his hand again signaling politely to the driver and requesting him to hold on a for a second and turning back to both the Inspector and SI, ' Okay, tell me very quickly what you have made out of this case with the details that have been gathered?'

Inspector Yesudas, ' Sir, we have three bodies, all murdered although two look like criminals and the other is our very own DSP'.

SI Anandan jumped in, ' yes sir and all three murders point to this lawyer sir. That is what we wanted to.............'

The harsh and cutting glare of AC Damodaran cut his sentence midway and both looked lost and unable to take the brunt of the withering stare, turned away and both looked down at their shoes and the ambiance.

' did Raman have any blood stains or even a speck of blood on him? No. Was Raman carrying any weapon? No. Where was Raman when I met him and where was the dead DSP? up on the fourth floor and one on the ground floor.'

Stepping closer to both of them, ' Take it one step at a time and please stop using your usual terror and heavy-handed tactics in this case and especially not with this advocate and witness, Mr.Raman, okay'

Inspector Yesudas finally found some courage and piped up, ' Sir, so you do agree that, this Raman is involved in this case and that he surely knows something about what happened and why it happened?'

Assistant Commissioner Damodaran nearly lost it and spoke haltingly and angrily, ' Bloody idiots. He is a witness but there is a huge and vast difference between a witness and a perpetrator.'

Shaking his head in frustration, AC Damodaran got into the vehicle and then turning to both of them,' Be very careful both of you and don't antagonize Raman, please'.

Inspector Yesudas nervously, ' because he knows the chief minister, right sir?'

Assistant Commissioner Damodaran finally lost it and cursed, ' No, you stupid donkeys. Not because he knows the chief minister because he killed those two hardened criminals with his bare hands and it took him only a second or less.'

His eyes dropped to their rather soft and rippling bellies and continued, ' What, I am saying is don't try to play with an angry and hungry lion or you might end up getting your backsides kicked physically and legally and maybe get transferred to some dry post down south'.

peekay hai kya

Flying still gets to me and brings out that child that once was and still lies buried under multiple layers of adulthood. Buried, dormant but alive and active under all those layers.

I sat at the window seat staring with wonder at the world outside and at the people who were getting out from another plane nearby and watched with mute fascination as people kept getting delivered from the metal womb of the Indigo jet and climbed into their bus which would take them to the airport.

My soul began to sing,' I am going, you are coming. Soon, I will be arriving and others will be departing ' and chuckling to myself thought to myself, ' idhudaan life. Varuvaanga, povaanga'.

I did not realize that words, sounds had escaped the thought and memory via my gob

'vandhathu theriyum povathu enge

vaasal namakke theriyaadhu,

vanthavarellaam thangi vittal indha

mannil namakke idamethu,

for the passenger next to me whispered, ' Tamila' and I turned to him and nodded ' yes'.

The portly man with his skull cap, prayer beads in his hand, henna stained beard asked ' Yen, why did you laugh and why that lyrics?'

I replied, ' just what I saw and what I felt and what I think about life' and explained briefly my thoughts and he smiled with appreciation and asked, ' Muslima' and I thought and hesitated and replied, ' Ille, verum Manushan'.

His face reflected his irritation and his quick judgment, although he seemed to be able to control his retort but could not control the reflection in his eyes which translated into ' Adhiga prasangi' and I smiled again for that was a title that was very familiar to me and that which had been bestowed very early in my life by my guardians and elders.

But, he waded in again and boldly, ' ungala paatha muslim madhiri irukku. Adhaan'.

Adhiga prasangi answered again,' Konjam muslim thaan I think'.

Now with a bit of Infuriation in his voice, ' puriyaliye'.

' I meant that I believe in Allah but I am not a Muslim but a Hindu'.

This totally and certifiably adhiga prasangi answer was a googly for the man and his face contorted with weird expressions of ' WHAT, WHO, WHY AND IN GODS NAME IS THERE AN ANSWER'.

I told him of the time when I was a kid, when I had suffered health and mental problems and when my Late grandma had taken me to this Durgah on Mount road called Dargah Hazrath Syed Moosa Sha Khaderi and the Imam there had prayed for me and had then tied an amulet containing a paper with some sacred verses from the Koran around my tiny waist which is not tiny anymore,sadly.

He smiled and radiated brighter than the sun and beamed a reply, ' so you believe in Allah and the koran'.

I nodded ' yes sir, ' I also believe in Christ and Shiva and in all popular Gods but not in their religions'.

Well, that was the end of the conversation between him and me and the kutty Satish went back to the window and went back to life and its myriad questions with myriad answers and you can safely and boldly read and mutter ' Myriad, poda periya mayiru nenappu ' for I won't mind it.

PEEKAY HAI KYA, ABHI SAVERE HAI.

All in a days work

Shooting for tv a serial can be mostly a mundane, cliched and downright boring experience and yet sometimes an actor gets to portray emotions ranging from one end of the spectrum to the other.

In a single day, an actor gets to be the alpha and the omega and then come home sans makeup and sans character and comes home as the rather boring original.

Books and music that kept me often entertained in my youth soon became constant fixtures and constant and companions after marriage. Her acting assignments took my wife away on a regular basis and sometimes she would be away for a month or so and yet something wonderful happened to me those days. I finally discovered the real and hidden meaning of solitude and its worth, which led to me discovering myself and deciphering my own thoughts.

Introspection, I soon learnt was rather a boring inquest, and I went from just reading books to really understanding them and their authors.

This gave me an insight into their minds and their fertile imaginations and all that turned out to be a great help when I became busy as an actor.

This current project of mine called Kalyana parisu 2 has me playing the husband to two wives and a father to four daughters. Three from the first, kind and gentle like their mother and the fourth and youngest, brave but a total criminal and lunatic like her mother, my second wife and one who does anything to get what she wants.

So, it turned out that I get kicked out of my own house by my second wife for helping my daughter from the first wife, who I abandoned many a year ago and why that was is still a story and a mystery and might just turn out to be that until the curtain falls.

Starting work on this project, I slipped in as a soft-spoken rich man who dotes on his daughter and turns a blind eye to all the bad things that she does and to all the hurt that she dishes out and lets off her by gently chiding her evil ways.

Yesterday's work started with two scenes where I try to do the right thing and get thrown out my wife and daughter and on to the streets and am asked my first child from my first wife to come home with her to live with them.

After much debate and hesitation, I go with her and well stand there facing my first wife and my other children and well, now is the time to remember Alpha and Omega.

Ashamed, Embarrassed, guilty, lost, lonely, hurt, angry, gratitude and so much and so many more emotions were thrown at me and I slipped into it all as I slipped from Alpha and into the state of last, Omega.

Acting, I discovered sometime very early in life is an easy thing when you let a part of your soul feel the character that you are playing and not just doing lip service.

By lip service, I mean just saying the lines given to you. Acting becomes easy when you let the role, its colors, its emotions, and moods wash over you and go for the ride, just a passenger.

True love, true wishes and all that is true comes from the soul, the real you and it shines when you let it mingle with your eyes, lips, hands, and body.

A dancer just dancing is so different from a dancer who is dancing with her soul in her every movement.

A singer is the same and whose voice takes on a different aura when he or she sings from her soul.

Soul, soul what is this thing called soul and why does it play such an important part in all that we do?

It is that one point in you, the epicenter, the core in which your real and pure you lies and springs forth and is the only place where we can sense all life and the entire cosmos and yes, importantly the higher power that we call simply as God.

Even atheists will agree to the existence of that sacred place called soul and our inner being, the temple where only you and the higher power exist.

Consciousness, Conscience. I would, and maybe should sing and write more on this but rather than wax and wane I give you the words reflected from thoughts of one of my favorite writers and philosophers, the one and only Kannadasan

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tg_ejTHZRp8

Jannal Oram 323

Commissioner of Police, Chennai, A. K. Viswanathan IPS glanced sideways and took a fleeting look at Raman and saw the fatigue and pain written on his face and asked him, ' How are you doing? How are you holding up in all this madness?'

' Just hanging in there sir, just hanging and barely with my fingertips.'

' I am sorry Raman. Very sorry for all that has happened in your life over the past few months. A person should not be subjected to so much pain by God' and looking away at the afternoon traffic, ' sometimes I wonder if he is there at all'.

Raman stoically, ' You know sir, there were so many times over the past years when I craved, practically begged God to make my life more interesting. For, every day, meant getting up and going to the court or my law firm and coming back to an empty house in the end. There were so many days in which I literally went mad with the mundane and boredom of my advocate life. But, today I wish my life was mundane and boring and cliched. I wish I was standing in the court handling cases and handling judges and fellow advocates.'

Commissioner A. K. Viswanathan looked at Raman sadly, ' be careful about what you wish for as it might happen and return to haunt you again. Soon, you will be telling me that your life is boring and cliched and that you are missing the action.'

Then remembering what he had been wanting to ask, ' Action, that word reminds me now' and looking Raman square in the eye, ' what happened in the hospital?'

' They came for Mohan and instead found me in the way. Not that it helped Mohan for he was already in a coma and is now no more'.

' I am sorry to hear that Raman.'

Taking a deep breath and sighing sadly, Commissioner A. K. Viswanathan continued ' At least when a loved one is in a coma we hang on thinking and hoping a miracle will bring them back to us, the land of the living. But, no and even if they come back they are never the same'.

Raman ' Oh! I am sorry sir but did someone in your family suffer a similar fate. I mean like being in a state of coma'.

Commissioner A. K. Viswanathan nodded ' my dad. A massive stroke and complications followed that and then he was in a coma for nearly a year before passing on'.

' I am sorry sir. I am really sorry that you had to go through that experience'.

Commissioner A. K. Viswanathan nodded ' Thank you, Raman. But, the worse thing about the whole thing was that we came from a middle-class family and my father's situation left us all penniless and nearly put us on the streets.

Rich people can absorb such high hospital costs. But, what about the middle class and the other classes for it is not only having to see your loved one suffer but one has to suffer the economic trauma. We sold everything in the house and my elder brother who had just started working took loans left, right and center and my misfortune was that I was just entering college. I worked in the evening at a hotel as a waiter and then graduated to becoming the manager of the place and then finally quit it after my dad quit his life'.

Sadly, waving his hand as if he was trying to brush all those memories away, Commissioner A. K. Viswanathan then turned and asked Raman ' What happened in the hospital? who were those men? any idea who sent them?'

' I had never seen either of those men before sir but I am sure who sent them?'

' Who? Minister Vaidyanathan?'

Seeing Raman thinking it over, ' Why didn't the men from Delhi notice them earlier and do something about it?'

Raman shook his head, ' Because neither they or I expected any trouble here in this hospital and the million-dollar question is why an attack on Mohan and why go to such lengths as to attack a harmless and an invalid person in a hospital?'

Commissioner of Police, Chennai, A. K. Viswanathan IPS ' I am sorry Raman but you have to come in and get debriefed for you are the only eye-witness that we have and sadly the only person who most possibly can help us find who killed the retired DSP.'

' I swear that I will co-operate and will answer any question regarding this. But, it will have to wait for my mind right now is full of my friend and his family and I need to be there with them at this trying time they are all facing'.

Commissioner A. K. Viswanathan clenched and unclenched both his fists in frustration ' what a sad end to such a fine soul and who would have made a great leader for this state. It was not just the public that was rooting for him but a whole bunch of people like me and many others in uniform'.

A few moments of silence passed between them and then Raman enquired about the security and funeral arrangements and Commissioner A. K. Viswanathan told him ' we have deployed nearly 500 policemen in and around the party headquarters and another 100 reserve policemen are already present at the crematorium in Besant Nagar. Moreover, the family has requested for a quiet and private funeral and so no members of either the public or from the party will be allowed inside.

The Chief Minister personally called me and ordered me to see that the family's wishes were honored and obeyed to the fullest and in fact warned me that he would brook no nonsense or even the slightest violation of the family's request and told me in no uncertain terms that heads would roll and would keep rolling if anything untoward happened today'.

Raman saw for himself what the chief minister's orders and threats meant for the road was clear and secure and their vehicle sped into the headquarters and both of them got down and walked inside.

Kavita sat in a chair next to Vijay's head and even from where he was Raman could see that she was just hanging on to the last embers of her strength and his heart went to her and she looked up and looked at him.

Kavita felt his arrival and presence immediately and even above the voices and noises around her and all around the place and slowly looked up and met his eyes across the room.

Her eyes slowly saw and understood what his eyes were telling her ' I am here and will remain by your side' and then her eyes dropped to his lips which smiled and she smiled back and felt a fire erupt inside her and it flamed filled her tired body and soul with new energy and resolve.

Each time she met his eyes, she felt herself getting stronger and stronger and his every loving and caring look filled her with more positive energy.

Carefully and every chance she got, she kept stealing glances at her soul which had abandoned her a long time ago and had found refuge in him and Kavita thought ' better my soul stay in you and exist in you for it has no use being in me and away from you'.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9muhp0Upuc

Jannal Oram 324

Fire was first controlled by humans anywhere from about 230,000 years ago to 1.4 or 1.5 million years ago, depending on which evidence you accept as definitive. Evidence for the use of fire by Homo erectus beginning some 400,000 years ago has wide scholarly support.

Maybe, our ancient ancestors did or did not but most certainly must have tried other options through which they said goodbye to their loved ones who had died.

Many ancient mummified bodies and skeletons have been found in the deepest reaches of caves with intricate and confusing tunnels. Ancient man must have braved such perils so as to keep their dead away from predators and scavengers.

Maybe, along the way one of our very ancient ancestors must have thought that burying their dead was better than leaving them inside dark and mazelike tunnels and started with a shallow hole and then thought laying some heavy rocks on them would be a good deterrent for animals that otherwise might begin to dig once the opportunity arose.

Maybe, as days passed, this stone laying was perfected and tombs were hit upon and maybe then they became places, sites of worship and mourning.

A burial site is a fixed point of focus and to which a person can come back again and again and continue to carry on with their bonds with the deceased by laying flowers, lighting candles at the gravesites.

I particularly like Christian burial grounds for some of them have beautiful benches in which you can sit and chat with your dead but still much-loved ones.

I guess over thousands of years, strange and weird practices crept into funerals and some of them still are with us.

For example, many Hindus still believe that women stay at home and not enter cremation grounds although it has changed a lot for the better.

But, one irritating and frustrating thing is the belief that only a son or the closest male relation can set fire to the funeral pyre and why that is something to be debated and sadly for which we don't have time right now.

Raman stood thinking back to the years spent in college and the several moments spent with Vijay in the canteen along with many others. He did not know it but his soul felt the stab after stab of pain that only came with great grief and with terrible losses and that sort of pain and sorrow comes only with the death of a loved one.

Raman did not know when the tears began to flow from his eyes but they did having no sense of timing or any respect for his composure and he stood watching Vijay's mutilated body and realized that no matter what and regardless of how much time would pass, Vijay and the pain of losing him would remain and fester as an unhealed wound in his soul.

Raman stood with tears flooding his eyes and cheeks and stood totally unaware and clueless to the fact that photos were being taken and tv channel cameras were beaming and streaming live the video of the funeral and of him crying.

Dhanraj Malik stood watching Raman cry and thought ' Why do you cry you brave and strong soul and who will cry when I have killed you?'

Gulab slowly hugged him from the back and he felt her naked and swollen nipples on the skin of his back and felt a rush of blood to his genitals and wondered and whispered the same ' Timing, Gulab, and again, and as always, I ask the same question, and that is, why does death turn you on so?'

' Power, a sense of incredible power fills me when I kill or see those that have been killed. I have not given much thought as to the whys and whats of my train of thought for all I can think of at that time is sex and a whole lot of dirty and violent sex'.

Saying this she slowly slid her hands into his cotton pants and pulled it down forcefully and once that vestige of a garment was dropped, she slowly took him into her hands and Malik surrendered to her morbid but totally mindblowing lust-filled moves.

' Sir. Amma koopuduraanga. Please come sir' whispered kanakasabhai, personal secretary to Minister Durai Pandi Arumugam and led Raman to where Mrs. Sharadha Durai pandi Arumugam, mother of Vijay and Kavita was sitting with her head buried in her hands, and sobbing softly.

Raman knelt in front of her and asked her why she had called for him.

Sharadha Arumugam wiping her tears said ' Raman sir, in all this confusion a new problem has cropped up adding to our tensions and sorrow. But, I think you can help us to handle the problem'.

' Sollunga amma. Tell me what you want me to do and I will do it for I am not only a friend to this family but also like a son to you and your husband'.

A mother looked at her new son and smiling sadly said ' I know Iyaa for that is the reason why I called for you'.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mxxeKBz_Ve8

Good morning. I wish you a beautiful day.

Block no. But, just a pause of reason and thought. Diversions no. Divided yes and a split right in the middle and again it is " To be or not to be" and " To write or not to write".

As irritating and frustrating as it may come across, it is indeed a constant battle to write, shape, carve and give life to thoughts and deliver them as words that tell a story.

I am very often mistaken for a romantic, a misnomer when a realist would be a far more accurate description of me and I liberally add a bit of coldness, and brutality to it.

In the debate between spoken and written, I think, in the long run, written is safer than spoken and will stand the test of time, and most importantly, man, and his mischievous mind.

Maybe you know or maybe you didn't, but let me clue you into an important function that the brain does vis a vis, the eyes. Our eyes see and receive all outside stimuli and sight upside down and the same information is corrected and set right side up by the brain.

Sorry, I have no clue as to the evolutionary do's and don't of why the eyes take in everything upside down and can only give you the physical explanation to this rather bizarre fact that most people don't seem to be aware of. The images we see are made up of light reflected from the objects we look at. This light enters the eye through the cornea, which acts as a window at the front of the eye. The amount of light entering the eye is controlled by the pupil, which is surrounded by the iris – the colored part of the eye.

Because the front part of the eye is curved, it bends the light, creating an upside-down image on the retina. The brain eventually turns the image the right way up.

Not only does the brain turn what we see the right way up but also fills in gaps by adding information to it and this spots in our eyes are called Blind spots.

Aha, see now, I have finally come to the most important part of this rather rambling thoughts.

Just like the brain fills in, compensates for our physical problems that it is faced with the eyes, it also does more and much more when it comes to the matters of the heart. Okay, the mind for that is more realistic than romantic.

If this filling in is done with your dealings with known souls then I guess it is okay although that is out for debate but rather cruel and killing when it comes to dealing with new people at work and in public places.

whaaaaaaatttt?

Judgementall Hai Kya

Simply put, we take in what we are told and then proceed to add to it and end up being Judgemental and opinionated.

Ambudu thaan. Idha solla thaan ivallavu neram aachu.

What we see is one thing and what we feel is one thing when the reality, in fact, is totally different?

The moment you realize all that is going on inside that rather ugly and folded gooey mass called a brain, you sit up and wonder ' No way. What is going on up there?'

Maybe Mother Nature designed us as she designed everything else and whose functions are " birth, eat, grow, crap, screw, birth, kill and die'.

But, she did not anticipate that things would get out of hand and that the human would go overboard on all the things that it was designed for and so here we are in the 21st century with so many manufacturing defects and yet still remain in version 1 and that has lasted for a few million years.

I sincerely hope and pray that version 2 will be on the lines of the kind and good-hearted Chitti the robot from Endhiran and that we rise above what our brain sees and reacts to using information from outside and from inside.

Jannal Oram 325

Sharadha Arumugam knew that she was placing a huge and unnecessary burden on an already burdened shoulders and one which had done enough and more for her family and blood. But, she was left with no option but to ask for his help and she knew that he would not refuse, ever.

' Raman, I want you to do the final rites for Vijay and also set fire to the pyre that will be laden with my son's body.'

Seeing his hesitation, she decided that she would beg and plead for his help ' We all belong to the Thevar community and we know what will happen if Kavita does what she is planning to do.'

Placing her hand on his, she gently squeezed it ' She will listen to you and will not listen to anyone else. So, please talk to her and change her mind. I know and understand that I am putting you in a rather tricky and delicate position, but I have nobody else to turn to and nobody I can trust completely.'

Sharadha Arumugam glanced at her husband's PA who nodded and went towards Kavita and Raman slowly helped her up and still holding her by her shoulder walked towards a room that was guarded by armed policemen.

Raman watched her sit down and asked if she wanted some water to drink, but Sharadha Arumugam waved it away and then the door opened and Kavita came in and first looked at her mother with an expression that clearly expressed ' Why have you called me here when I should be next to my brother?' and then turned to Raman ' thank you for coming.'

He looked at her ' how are you?' and Kavita replied with a slight shrug of her shoulders ' I have no clue as to how I am still standing on two feet but I have to and will see this through for that is the least I can do for my brother.'

Kavita looked at her mother ' enna. Why did you call me in now for the Chief Minister will be arriving any moment now.'

Deciding that she better say what she wanted to say quickly, her mother Sharadha Arumugam said ' Ram is going to do the final rites and that is my request and order.'

Kavita angrily ' why? why not a woman? why does it have to be that only a man is allowed to do these rites and why burden Raman when he has already done enough for us?'

Sharadha Arumugam's eyes flashed with such anger that Raman was taken aback and then she spoke softly but with great intensity and anger, ' you want my permission to do the final rites for your brother but remember that he is first my son and only then is he your brother. Remember that he too belongs to the Thevar community and not some liberal and western community which allow women to go to the crematorium and also do the final rites for their departed.

But, you and I are from Tamil Nadu and have you stopped and thought for a second what will happen if you decide to go ahead in doing the final rites for your brother?'

Kavita mustering courage yelled loudly ' what will happen amma?'

' There is a chance that this government might fall and there is a strong possibility that we might never come back to power, ever. Endi, Thevar magan padam paakaliya. Don't you understand how strong our community is and how rigidly we hold on to rituals? Please, don't undo all the good work done by the late puratchi thalaivai who worked so hard with Sasikala and brought all the Thevar people under her thumb and which was one of the main reasons for her to triumph in consecutive elections. But now without her, the party might just break into many pieces for the Chief Minister EPS is a Gounder and his deputy OPS is a Thevar.

Only now it slowly began to dawn on Raman the huge implications and problems that Kavita's course of action might lead to and now looked at her mother in total awe, and in a new light for he realized now that she was not just an old mother but really the queen lioness of the pride.

Kavita's eyes blazed in anger and frustration and she tried to say something and tried to reason with her mother but again Sharadha Arumugam raised her hand and holding it there roared in a commanding voice ' Your time will come and when it comes you are free to do what you want to do. But right now is my time and as the head of the family I command you to obey my orders.'

Raman went to Kavita and gently held her by her left arm ' I am sorry but I think your mother is absolutely correct and it would also be correct on your part to heed her words.'

Kavita looked at Raman and collapsed into his arms and cried her heart out.

He gently held her and tenderly stroked her head and then placed a soft kiss on it and Kavita looked up slowly and whispered ' Thank you ram for doing this' and her mother, Sharadha Arumugam's eyes went wide and she thought to herself ' she is madly in love with him.'

Jannal Oram 326

Raman looked at Sharadha Arumugam, who in turn looked at him with a stoic expression that did not reveal anything that was taking place in her mind, and then all three of them turned towards the door for it opened and in came Minister's personal assistant Kanakasabhai.

' The Chief Minister will be here any moment ' and saying this he looked at Kavita who nodded and then with a sad smile left the room to go and be ready to meet and greet EPS who also happened to be their party leader.

Sharadha Arumugam slowly got out of her chair and which prompted Raman to rush to her side and he held her and steadied her frail body and asked her ' amma, is there nobody else, no other male in your family who can do the final rites for Vijay?'

' Irukaanga Raman but they are all distant relations, and I have no time to tolerate their whims and political fancies which I am sure they will present to me and my husband after a little time has passed. It will not end there, and we will not be able to refuse them without things getting nasty and relationships ruined forever.'

She looked at him searchingly ' Yen, why? Don't you want to do what I am requesting of you? please, be frank and honest with me and don't hide anything from me?'

Raman shook his head sadly ' Nothing. I have nothing in my mind and I asked the question out of curiosity and it was most certainly not a casual one.'

' I know Raman for from what little I have seen you and heard of you from both Vjay and Kavita, I know there is nothing casual about you and that there is something in all that you say and do.'

Her hands gripped Raman's belying the frailty of her body and there was steel and emotion in her voice as she asked him ' Do you know that my daughter, now my only child is in love with you?'

Raman sighed sadly ' I know.'

' how long have you known?'

' Only recently.'

Sharadha Arumugam smiled ' do you love her?'

' No. Not like the way she loves me.'

' does Kavita know that you know that she is in love with you?'

' yes amma. she does and we both have spoken about it in Delhi?'

Sharadha Arumugam now looked even closely into Raman's eyes and asked in a quivering voice ' did anything happen between the two of you in Delhi?'

Raman hesitated just for a millisecond ' No. nothing happened and nothing will ever happen between me and your daughter.'

' I know Ram but I also know my daughter' and looking up at Raman ' She will love you with every cell of her body and she will continue to love you until life departs from her last living cell.'

She reached up and slowly wiped the tears that began to flower and tremble in his eyes and Raman spoke ' I had no clue about her feelings for me but I know her and I know the depth of her love. But, I am married and also very much in love with Jeeva and I just cannot imagine, a life with anybody else. I am so sorry for what I have done to your daughter and I am so sorry for what I have done to your son.'

Sharadha Arumugam took a deep breath and replied ' ram, you saved my children's lives all those years ago and if it had not been for you, both of them would not have lived so long. Maybe it is true that we can cheat death once or twice but not forever and so my son whom you saved has finally met his destiny, a date that he had once missed.'

She looked at him searchingly ' But, you are here now. As Raman, and as my Laxman, and as your mother, I am going to ask you to promise me two things, grant me two wishes.'

With a smile, he nodded and replied ' Okay. Ask of me whatever you wish from me and I promise to do it.'

' Watch over my daughter as long as you live and breathe and my second wish is that you finish this problem, once and for all.'

' I promise although you know that I would do it no matter your wishes and request for my promising.'

' I know Raman and that is why I wanted you to do these rituals and rites for my son for that would have been his wish too. You gave him his life and now in his death, you rightfully are the one to send him on towards wherever he is going.'

Raman hugged her fiercely and mumbled ' I am so sorry that things have come to this and I vow that I will put an end to all this madness.'

Sharadha Arumugam smiled ' Of course you are going to do it for that is why you are here as Raman and just like in the story, the hero gets to kill Ravanan in the end. But, all that for later, for now, we have to go and greet a Chief Minister, a poor man who is struggling to fill the vacuum that has been left behind by Jayalalitha who in turn struggled and found it difficult to fill the shoes and expectations left behind by her Mentor, Puratchi Thalaivar MGR.'

Raman looked at her eagerly ' you have seen him and met him?'

Sharadha chuckled ' of course. so many times and he has come home for so many functions and attended both Vijay's and Kavitas naming ceremony.'

' What was he like amma?' asked Raman and Sharadha Arumugam smiled ' he really glowed like gold and shone like the sun. Even old and sick he stood like a star among all around him and it was that star-like charisma that brought him fame in both films and politics.'

Closing her eyes and smiled and then opened them and added ' A killer smile and a killer brain and the best part was none around him knew what he was thinking or what he was going to do and yet, he saw everything, missed nothing and always, mostly always did the right thing.'

' No Raman, there will never be another MGR again. Come now, and let's go greet all these pale shadows of both the great leaders and see for ourselves what has become of this party that is hanging on, barely.'

She stopped at the door and with a smile said ' You know Ram, not many people know that this Headquarters that was opened in 1986 was actually gifted to MGR and the party by his wife Janaki Ramachandran. She also willed her large property in t.nagar to be turned into a memorial for the late Puratchi Thalaivar MGR.'

She let her eyes run all over the halls and rooms and whispered ' so much has happened under this roof and now my son lies dead under the very same roof.'