My new Guru

 

When my daughter named him ‘Sidhu’ and I had made it ‘Sidharth Bhairav’, little had I realized that our Labrador will become my Guru.  (Sri Krishna tells Udhava that he had numerous Gurus)

Daily mornings he takes me for a walk.  He waits till I have my tea and then will not allow me another moment.

He was only a pup. Street dogs that are in plenty in our area and would encircle us at certain points that I would not know what to do. Hence, I started carrying a long stick.  It would give some sense of protection and also enable me to ensure that the pup would not eat up any unwanted stuff during the walk.

Now that he has become 6 months old, he has grown more confident.

It happened that we were encircled by around 8 dogs, male, female and their kids all yelling and howling at a particular street and they were about to attack Sidhu.  I swiftly took him away on our course.  But they would all chase and try to get at him. Then, suddenly the event happened. Sidhu turned around and sat on the road, facing the chasers.  Facing them straight like this:

(I do not know when he learnt the technique stated by Swami Vivekananda - facing the brute) 

Then all those chasers just stood where they were and continued their barking. Then, they also sat down before him in a semi-circle.  There was no noise. Then Sidhu lied on the road just looking at them.  

For some time, there was full calm.  One neighbor who had come out of his house to the road, hearing the noise, was standing and watching the entire proceedings.  After some time, I had to persuade our gentleman to get up and continue our walk.

If this was a lesson I learnt, I wanted to put it to test again.

Today I took him to a place where he had been attacked by one street dog last month.  He used to be more aggressive than the others and had attacked Sidhu.  Then I had to shoo him away with my stick. After that incident I used to avoid going that way because I understood that he was standing guard to some young pups and was therefore extra-ferocious.

Today I took Sidhu to that road again.  Again all those pups and their mother came rushing and barking.  Sidhu walked away. Then came the one who had attacked him earlier. He was charging at him gnashing his teeth and growling.  I did not intervene.  Sidhu used the same sitting pose on the road, facing the attacker.  The attacker stood some space away and continued with his barking and gnashing of teeth.  Then he also stopped. All of them then sat down in a semi-circle facing Sidhu and there was peace.

When I came home I saw the statement of Zelensky that he wanted to sit and talk to Putin.  ‘I will not bite’, says Zelensky.

My friends say that Sidhu’s technique may not work with all dogs.

I do not know.

(Note: Since I want to protect the privacy of my latest Guru, the photos used above are not his)

Quixotic Collector of Kozhikode

 

When Gopalan sir said that he had ordered a book for me, I thought it will be a difficult stuff related either to Western History or an in-depth understanding of the English language.  I was very much apprehensive about how I will finish reading such a stuff.

Then in the face book, he had made a post linking me.  The name of the book got revealed there.  'Collector Bro'.  The Tamil poetic prose written by him in the post did not either give me a hint as to why he decided that I should read the book or rather that I would love reading it.  I said I reserve my comments, awaiting to see what lay in store.

When the book came and I started reading, I was thrilled that he had chosen me to read it.  Rather, it showed his great opinion about me, because the author, Shri. Prasanth Nair, who had been Collector of Kozhikode had narrated some of the highlights of his tenure there. 

As the author himself says at the outset, usually first person accounts tend to be tedious and self praising, thereby making the reader lose interest, unless of course the author is a well known celebrity, whose personal life, one would be inclined to peep into.

And there have been thousands of Collectors earlier and there will be thousands to come too.  What a big deal?

But I should confess that after a very long time, I found a book totally engrossing, which I completed from wrapper to wrapper, without touching any other for a break.

I do not know whether the author was known as Collector Bro as in the tile of the book or Collector Chettan, at Kozhikode during his tenure. But, the idealism of youth and maturity given by an innate wisdom alone appears to have allowed him to venture into things usually people only dream of and to accomplish them where people leave in between, after a mere beginning.  Keralites have the notoriety of being Great Beginners (meaning not great finishers) which is called in Malayalam as “Aramba suratham’.

The author obviously has broken that ill fame for the Keralites.  The steps he took to carry out is all about the book.

In the early pages itself, the Talisman of Gandhi gives out the very purpose of the book and the guiding light of the author.  It was a gratifying moment for me personally to come across this talisman because, it had been one of the touch stones in my own heart for a very long time, right from child hood.  And for those who had not come across this talisman, our actions look like ‘Communism’.  After all, where has there been a greater socialist in action that the great Mahatma himself, in the recent past?

The depth of the feeling of the author for the suffering of people of different walks of life and in different situations is heartening.

Only a real compassion and understanding of the mental turmoil of the persons in the Kudiravattom home for mentally disabled could have made him get an entire chapter printed in black with letters in white.  It shows the gloom in their lives – for example where one person has crossed just two days in 15 years. The author puts his finger on the very crux of the issue, these inmates, have no relations to claim them, look after them, no groups to take interest because they are not going to be useful to them.  The funds allocated to them do not get translated into any benefit.  Even their menu had not been changed since 1979! They cannot be hospitalized because there are no bystanders to take care of them during post operative care.  Even when declared medically cured, there is no one to take them back home, into the society. The squalid conditions in which these helpless being are forced to live in, would bring tears to anyone who would go through the chapter. And to just see that by the end of the chapters, several have been rehabilitated and joined with the families and the conditions in the hospital made much better, some light could be seen at the end of the tunnel and a great relief, as if one had been associated with the efforts oneself.

Similarly in the case of the orphaned children.

Another major effort of the Collector had been in addressing poverty.  The novelty in dealing with it and the difficulties to be overcome in introducing a scheme, even at the cost of dishing out a very costly lie, are unbelievable.  But true.  It worked.

The incident describing a self respecting woman partially paralyzed and having to take care of her completely paralyzed father, reluctantly taking the food coupon, the author and his assistant becoming emotional about the success of their endeavor in reaching out to the really needy, is poignant.  The heaviness of the moment had been broken perhaps by the author with his impish comment on how wide tables can save people from scandals some times.

The other heavy moment comes when a senior chides the author for a delay of around 10 minutes in attending a meeting, pretty well knowing the humanitarian issue which had caused the delay.  The heaviness again is cast aside by casting away the image of the senior into the dust bin of history.

There is the other instance of how a way was found for the parents of autistic children to take care of their children as well as themselves.  The author magnanimously gifts away the credit for the entire effort to the beneficiaries themselves, for having come to him and goaded him into action!

Throughout the book, there are pictures, figures, narrations etc of artistic nature.  It requires the reader not only to read but pause and absorb the feelings behind the words and the actions.

I deliberately do not want to detail all the great deeds that the author along with his dedicated team had managed to accomplish in Kozhikode during his tenure because, it may be doing injustice to the efforts of these noble souls.  One has to read and live the moments, oneself.  Only then one would be able to see, what novel ideas could come to open minds and how daring spirits find ways even in dense jungles.

The book gives a hope to those hearts which look forward to breaking the red tapes and for administration to reach out to the poor and needy.

Only a daring mind and a stout heart can stop the Collector’s residence from being approachable only by the rich and mighty and throwing it open to all.

We see a people’s Collector, an activist administrator and a philosopher performer all rolled into one in Shri. Prasanth Nair.  He would have definitely been seen as self styled, for a person self propelled alone would dare to do such things, out of the book and out of the box.  I do not know how the strict confines of the codes, protocols, etc would have permitted him to go ahead with his projects.  He should have been called a maverick.  He himself terms it ‘quixotic’. There is also the instance of his having a clash of egos with a politician.  That is how society generally deals with such people who dare to be different.

He dedicates the book to the Universal Mother.  Undisputedly only that Mother could give the strength and wisdom to a young mind to take upon the huge demon of vested interests, without practically any support of the state, but his faith only in the people of the District.

Yet, I feel that the book deserves to be dedicated to ‘that’ Cultured IAS Officer, whom the author had met as a child along with his mother, but for whom the author may not have aspired to become an IAS Officer himself and but for which the society could have lost the services of such a great personality.  Of course, for a person with so much vision, zeal and idealism, he would have performed even without being an IAS Officer.  Only this post gave him easy access to resources, which most others use for their own fulfillment alone.

Looking forward towards meeting at least some of the great persons who had been of assistance to this author, some day, if not chance permits me to meet the author himself.

Heart felt Pranams to his parents. Their purpose of life is indeed fulfilled by bringing forth such a Cultured human being. And with prayers to that Universal Mother that the author continues to make such path breaking services throughout his life and that may many more such noble souls get born and flourish.

This book should be prescribed as a guidance book for every aspiring young person entering whichever walk of public life.

A great thanks once again Gopalan sir, for having thought me fit to come across this treasure.

Culture

 

It was quite dark after the twilight hour.  I was pacing the courtyard speaking over my mobile.  Some movement from the dark area of the lawn caught my attention.  A small fluffy cotton ball like thing was moving towards me.  It was rather moving towards the light.  It was a sparrow chick.  I tried to touch it.  It moved away towards some other trees nearby and I left it alone, wondering how it had landed there and why it was alone. 

I called my daughter.  She immediately went near it and showed her finger.  The chick promptly got on her finger.   

 

She took it into the house, put it in a small bamboo basket with some cloth, etc to make it like a nest.  She then fed it with some milk using an ink filler. The chick was very happy and even jumped out of the basket and started going around the house.  Then in the night, she was again put into the basket and closed and kept in a dark place.

Next day morning, there was a lot of noise of sparrows chirping in the house.  It was slightly more than on the other days.

I took the basket and kept it outside in such a way the other birds could see and if identified, they could take the chick away with them.

They came and inspected the basket.  Then the chick reluctantly got up, shook itself and jumped out of the basket.

The whole of the day, the chick was roaming around in the compound of the house among the trees and plants.  The other sparrows always were around keeping turns.  One of the sparrows looked like their leader.  It was quite larger than others, stout and commanding.

I was watching how they will manage to take the chick with them.

When evening came, the other sparrows, they would be around ten in number, took the chick to a corner in the compound and started demonstrating in turns how to fly from the ground to the top of the compound wall.  I could feel their anxiety.  The chick helplessly looked at her elders demonstrate a rare feat.  Then after some time, it tried.  It could fly up only by one feet.  After four or five attempts, she was not able to do anything more.  I could feel a sense of despondency among them.  My heart felt heavy.  All of us wanted her to be able to fly off.  But she could not. Then as darkness started descending, one by one of her family members left. She was all alone.  It was heart wrenching to see her look around with no one around. 

I tried to catch her and once again put her in the basket to keep her safe for the night.  When I caught her, she forcefully escaped from my hands.  Again I called my daughter.  She promptly took her and put her in a larger basket this time. 

Next day again in the morning we released her to her family.  That day evening, when the same demonstration took place, this time in another corner of the compound, the chick could manage to rise up to two feet. But still the compound wall was six feet high.  The evening again descended into darkness and her family had to once again abandon her.  Again she was brought into the basket for safety.

The next day, after she was released in the morning and she was roaming amidst the trees and plants as usual, in the compound, suddenly in the noon, some of the sparrows started making a big noise.  There was ruffled flying here and there.  Sparrows were flying to a tree and flying back and forth making a lot of noise.  Then the leader of the group came and sat on the compound wall facing me, since I was sitting in the sit out reading something and continuously chirped in a hysterical tone.  I thought something was amiss and after ascertaining that the chick was safe, under a tree, took a look around the compound.  Then I found that a cat was just then entering the compound on the diagonally opposite corner. I just watched the cat.  She elegantly walked on the compound wall and when near me, looked at me for some time. I did not want her to jump into our compound.  After some moments, I showed her with my hand that she can go to the next compound.  After pausing for some seconds, she walked past me and crossed over to the neighboring compound wall. But she lay there for almost ten minutes.  I patiently waited and after she left, I also came away and resumed my reading.

The leader of the group came and sat before me in the same place on the compound wall where she had perched earlier and made a chirp and flapped her wings as if saying thank you.  And she flew away. 

This gesture was really a marvelous one.  I could not believe.

That evening again they were trying to make the chick fly.  After some time, suddenly I heard a lot of noise and all chirping noise had disappeared into a distance. I was worried that something untoward had happened.  I searched the entire compound.  The chick was not to be found.

As I again sat on my chair in the portico brooding as to what would have happened, the leader sparrow once again came and perched in the same spot and chirped something fast and showed some action with her wings and flew away to a neighboring plot.  I understood that she told me that the chick had flown away.  From among the shrubs in the neighboring plot, I could hear their chirping and could see their frenzied flying activities.

After four or five days, one morning again all of them came and made a lot of chirping noise.  One of them, I could identify with the smallest tail as the chick which had been our guest for three nights.  Once I recognised her, they all made some chirping noise and left.

And we think only humans invented culture. 

A Saint among us

 

Something did not seem right from the morning of 27^th September 2021. There was no specific reason for a heaviness in the heart. The mind was not at rest.  It rather was hazy. For no specific reason, nothing registered in the mind.  Then I saw the mobile blinking. P A Parameswaran was calling.  As soon as I attended, he said Muruganandam sir had been calling me and could not reach me.  Then he informed that Sivajayakumar sir had been found dead in his house on Sunday morning.  It was only to inform this that Muruganandam sir had been trying to contact me.  My heart lost a beat.  I again asked him, ‘found dead’? ‘Yes’., he said.  I cut off the call and contacted Muruganandam sir for further information.  Only then I found that my phone had been on silent mode and I had missed his earlier call.  Muruganandam sir informed that Sivajayakumar sir had been found dead in a house at Trichy (till then I thought it was at vadavalli in Coimbatore) where he had shifted to, some six or seven months back (which was again news to both of us) and that his associates were trying to locate his family to get the formalities like post-mortem completed to perform his last rites. He was trying to contact his family at Pondicherry.  I also then called some persons at Pondicherry and at last we could get in touch with his family, whom he had left around 20 years ago, walking away from his past, after he had come to Coimbatore.

Little did we know that in walking away from his past, after leaving the department, he had erased all our phone numbers also from his mobile phone and had not revealed anything about his past, including the department, etc, to his new-found disciples at Trichy.  That was the reason why it took them one whole day to reach out to us, through whatsapp messages in certain groups.  And when so many from the department had turned up, his new colleagues were astonished that their ‘Ayya’ had been such a big officer.

They would have been in a greater awe, if only they had been told that he was selected for the IPS, but had got entangled in some case at the time when he was to join the service and he himself argued his case in the High Court and came out himself, but lost the opportunity to enter Civil Services. But he had taken it all as God’s will.

The entire day I felt feverish.  Only by evening, when I learnt that his son was proceeding to Trichy with his mother (Sivajayakumar sir’s wife) did I feel relieved.  Then the feverishness also gradually came down.  Till then I had thought that my physical condition was due to some climatic variation.  But when Karthikeyan, whom I had requested to attend the cremation, on my behalf at Trichy due to my inability due to feverishness, reported to me that evening, that he could not attend, because of getting a fever himself that day, I felt something strange.  It was not a mere co-incidence.  The state of mind induced even before becoming aware of the news, the subsequent physical illness and the illness contacted by Karthikeyan who was asked to execute what I myself could not physically, all put together, I felt that there was some message.

He always used to speak in a mystical language, with a laugh typical of him.

I remembered about the book he had sent to me in the year 2000 from Pondicherry through Shri. Ananthakalyanakrishnan who had gone there for some pirpose.  

 

At that time we did not know each other.  When I took out that book from my shelf, I found, that strangely, he had even on that date, signed it as ‘To Manimohan, with regards’.

It was only later that he had come to Coimbatore on transfer and we came to know each other in person.

He had in a way stated his life philosophy in the preface of the above book:

 

He used to discuss a lot on spiritual matters.  He had a great knowledge in Physics and Mathematics. Apart from that he used to speak a lot about Vasthu, Seven Chakras, etc, which all very well flew above my head.  He even sent me a lengthy essay on his thesis on 'pie'.  That was after he had left on Voluntary Retirement from the department.

Once when I was speaking about Vallalar, I said I had a book which spoke about the immense knowledge of Atomic Physics contained in the verses of Vallalar.  That moment he wanted to come to my house.  He came there and requested whether he could take that book.  I was glad that there was someone who could understand the subject.  Though I had bought it due to interest, I had not been able to grasp the subject.

He was the person who gave me a copy of ‘Living with the Himalayan Masters’, when I spoke to him about ‘Walking with a Himalayan Master’.  After I completed the book given by him and when I returned it to him I said, it was simply great and I could not put it down.  The other one is only ‘walking’, this one is ‘living’, he said with that typical laugh.

He opened many vistas into areas of mysticism which of course he would not accept without scrutiny.  Scrutiny, he would do, using mathematical theories.  He once was in search of Madhava of Kerala (Iringalakuda).   It was much later that I came to know that Madhava was a great mathematician.  I often wondered how he got so much information.  Those were days when internet had not yet become so widespread.

One of the inspirational seeds, in his book is ‘The right to live is being interfered with by the liberty to put an end to life by the primitives obsessed with the absolute in the relative world. Beads of Abacus seeks to teach arithmetics of life’.  His linking the spiritual path to mathematical basics is evident.  All are symbols.

But in whichever subject he dealt with, he did it with great agility and expertise,in-depth.  There was nothing he would do half-heartedly.

Once when I casually mentioned about my intention to get a second-hand car, he took it so seriously (even I had been only half serious) that he did not rest till a second-hand car had been identified and the keys handed over to me by him.  The commitment with which he dealt with anything undertaken was amazing.

And he had a special affection for everyone he came into contact with.  For those who did not quite understand him, he would pass by, with just a smile.

The concept of his compassion is revealed in another seed in his book: “We borrow billions to buy coffins for the living.  With all the riches, the world is reluctant to cure the disease of starvation. Ironically, we also focus our lens at the outer solar system while humanity on our earth itself is an endangered species.”

Rajendiran sir (former Commissioner of Cbe) along with his wife, Chandrashekar sir (Former AC, Cbe), Mohan sir (my previous AD) and many others who had worked with him in the department, from different parts of Tamil Nadu were gracious to attend his cremation at Trichy. 

Shri. George Arokiaraj, along with his colleagues (their sangh), who had been associated with Sivajayakumar sir till his end, who had searched for his family and got in touch with us, were gracious to do all that was required for his final rites. In fact they had informed us on Monday morning itself that they had been told by Sivajayakumar sir, where his final rites where to be conducted and they got it done accordingly, on the shores of the Cauvery.

After everything was done to his mortal remains, it dawned on me that he did not want me to go there.  His message was that he was eternal.  Physical limitations did not now apply.

His verses in the book sent to me by him speak out his mind.

Nails in my cross rusting

Bones in my coffin marrowless

Emptiness envelops me

Beyond the infinite

I exist original

In open spaces.

He will remain in the minds of very many, whose lives he has touched with his graciousness, during his, 'this journey', in search of the 'ONE' whom he refers to in his dedication of his book: