VANDE MATHARAM

 

Whenever the Tricolor flag is hoisted and the National Anthem is sung, images of two great men come to my mind.

The pensive Gandhi, who was on the day of Independence, far away at Noakhali dousing the flames of communal enmity that had torn the nation apart. The Gandhi who had been used by the Congress for negotiating with the British Crown, whose spirituality had been used by them to reach to the masses, whose advice they would seek when they had a divide among themselves and which they would accept or reject as per their convenience, who was the bridge between communities, between the haves and have nots, who was the embodiment of what sacrifice could mean and who unabashedly declared and demonstrated to the world, how one could be open to criticism including from oneself and overcome ones own weaknesses to have the spirit master the matter – and that man who was left behind by his comrades in arms, after they had achieved what they wanted – power.

The other image is that of the great mind and heart which beat for the entire humanity and whose poem we sing when the National Flag is unfurled, with such great fervor.

He also did not live to see the Tricolour being hoisted in an independent India. But, his definition for independence was altogether different that he may not have accepted it as a real independence.

In an open letter to Gandhi in the early 20s under the title, ‘The Call of Truth’, he had this to say:

“Allien government in India is a veritable chameleon. Today it comes in the guise of the Englishman; tomorrow perhaps as some other foreigner; the next day, without abating a jot of its virulence, it may take the shape of our own countrymen.”

As we look back, his prophesy has come true. New feudal minded authorities have taken charge of running the country. The consent of the people is obtained only to dictate. Even freedom has to be ‘observed’ rather than being ‘enjoyed’ or ‘celebrated’.

It is made to appear that hoisting the National Flag is a duty rather than a matter of pride. Generations to come may be told that it was a particular party or a person who made the National Flag into a people’s flag. It may also be quite forgotten or even suppressed that it was the Hon’ble Supreme Court which in its land mark verdict on 23rd January 2004 in the case of Naveen Jindal (CASE NO.:Appeal (civil) 2920 of 1996) held that individuals had the right to fly the National Flag. Until then, the right was reserved by the Government.

This right is to be exercised, not imposed. For, once freedom is imposed, it loses its value. Gurudev himself so poignantly depicts it in one of his poems in ‘Fruit Gathering’:

“No: it is not yours to open buds into blossoms.
Shake the bud, strike it; it is beyond your power to make it blossom.
Your touch soils it, you tear its petals to pieces and strew them in the dust.
But no colours appear, and no perfume.
Ah! it is not for you to open the bud into a blossom.
He who can open the bud does it so simply.
He gives it a glance, and the life-sap stirs through its veins.
At his breath the flower spreads its wings and flutters in the wind.
Colours flush out like heart-longings, the perfume betrays a sweet secret.
He who can open the bud does it so simply.”

It is on the point of the limitations of the Nationalism and the concept of Patriotism that Tagore and Gandhi differed.

“I am willing to serve my country; but my worship I reserve for Right which is far greater than country. To worship my country as a god is to bring curse upon it,” Tagore had written in his 1916 novel, The Home and the World.

Even earlier to that in 1908, in a letter to his friend, A M Bose, Tagore is quoted to have written, “Patriotism can’t be our final spiritual shelter. I will not buy glass for the price of diamonds and I will never allow patriotism to triumph over humanity as long as I live.” (Selected Letters of Rabindranath Tagore, published by Cambridge University Press in 1997)

What he had really meant can be seen in his open letter ‘The Call of Truth’:

“But if we can gain within us the truth called our country, all outward maya will vanish of itself…..the true nature of man is his inner nature, with its inherent powers. Therefore, that only can be a man’s true country, which he can help to create by his wisdom and will, his love and his actions.”

Every moment when I see the National Flag or hear the National Anthem, I pray, ‘Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake’.

ON VIDHEYAN MOVIE DEPICTING SERVITUDE

 

The protagonist ;Vidheyan’ or the ‘servant’ in the Malayalam film ‘#Vidheyan’ is played by one M.R.Gopakumar.  The feudal Patialdar is played by #Mamooty.  This film along with ‘Pondhan Mada’, in which Mamooty plays the role of the servant to that of the Master Nasrudin Shah, both of which were released in 1994, got Mamooty his second Bharath Award. 

While Pondhan Mada is a breezy story showing the song like relationship between an elegant master and a loyal servant, ‘Vidheyan’, portrays the roller-costar relationship between the two.

Right from the very first scene where the servant-to-be Thommi is insulted and humiliated by the feudal Pateldar, upto the last till the servant exults in his freedom, it is a continuous emotional turmoil for the servant.

He has come to Karnataka from Wayanad along with his wife, only to land in a place which is ruled by a ruthless feudal land lord (Pateldar), who though said to be good in the beginning with the only fault of being short tempered, was progressively spoilt by the society around, by liberal supply of liquor and women for achieving 'their' ends.

When Thommy comes to know that the Pateldar had broken into his house and when the next morning one of the henchmen of the Patedar comes to fetch him saying that Master had called him, Thommy, burning with indignation shouts back, “whose master?”.  His wife gives him an option to die, together.  But the weakness within the servant prohibits.  He agrees to live together, ‘somehow’.  And for that he compromises and ends up as a helper in the liquor shop of the Pateldar and becomes his most trusted servant.  He is the only person having access to his house and whom Pateldar’s wife feeds with her own hands.

But Paeldar wants to kill that wife of his, for her fault of trying to counsel him.  Only one thing he is bothered about.  That his wife should not know that he killed her. For that he enlists the help of the servant.  But in the fiasco, it is the servant who gets shot and it is the wife of the Pateldar who saves him and even visits him in his house when he lies convalescing.  Thommy has a great attachment for the lady.  Pateldar even asks him, ‘You like Saroja akka a lot, isn’t it?’. 

Ultimately Pateldar accomplishes the murder of his wife, alone and gets the help of Thommy to make it look like a suicide. Thommy, all in tears, does as ordered by his master.

The scene where a person produces his wife and children along with another man accusing her of having run away with the other man is a classic scene. After his tiring previous night, when he had visited Thommy’s wife, Pateldar is seated in his house and Thommy is massaging his back.  “Slowly, it is hurting,’ says Pateldar.  Thommy slows his pace in the massaging.  It is then that the dispute is brought before the feudal lord.  On hearing the dispute, Pateldar gets up and slaps the complainant husband saying, ‘If you cannot properly maintain a lady, why do you want one?;  The camera fixes on the face of Thommy.  Next, Pateldar kicks and punishes the fellow who had taken away the other man’s wife saying, ‘how can you take the other man’s wife?’.  The camera again strays to show the face of Thommy.  Then as if the message should be made further clear, Pateldar warns the lady saying that only because it is not proper to beat a lady that he is refraining from doing so and sends her and children with her husband.  Thommy is a witness to all this. Knowing absolutely well that none of the preaching would apply to him and his master.

On one hand Thommy is loyal to his master to the extent that he is prepared to help him to kill his wife (though with a heavy heart – when he requests her for gruel, he adds with lump in his throat ‘pl don’t add salt’) and also is on the other hand prepared to help the foes of his master to enable them to kill him. 

He dislikes his master interfering with his familial life, and yet is enthralled that his wife had progressively started smelling the scent used by his master.  His wife also giggles to that and Thommy assures her to get the same scent for her on his own.  This perhaps is the point in the film where servitude is highlighted at its best.

At the same time, the self respect of the couple is also in a subtle manner shown when in a scene the saree purchased and gifted by the Pateldar for Omana through Thommy, immediately after his first visit to her, is shown as unused and just hanging from a string, in the back ground of a scene, long after.

When Patialdar and Thommy are about to leave into the forests because the relations of Pateldars wife are after him for her murder, Thommy’s wife Ommana weeps on Thommy’s breast.  They are literally afraid.  But Thommy suddenly realizes that she was doing so in the presence of Pateldar himself, suddenly gets back to his senses and perhaps remembering the brutal assault made by Pateldar on Thommi's former master, only for the fault that Thommy had shown courtesy and respect to his former boss in the presence of Pateldar, says to her, ‘don’t worry, I will not allow anything to happen to the master’. 

And in the final hours of their togetherness, in the wild, when the feudal lord has no one else but this servant to depend upon, he calls him by his name and Thommy becomes overjoyed saying, ‘Master has called me by my name’.  Till then he used to be called only by abusive epitaphs. 

When finally Pateldar is killed, Thommy who initially has fled from the scene fearing for his own life, goes near the body and after making sure that he is dead, throws his gun into the waters.  Then he laments and cries alound,’ Omanna, our Master has died’.  It is as he runs towards his house that his weeping and wailing change into jumping and laughing, an accompanying background score signaling that at last he senses freedom, really.

While the depiction of the servant is a reflection of each one of us to some extent, in each and every situation in life, where we are not able fight back, pretty well knowing that we are being treated shabbily, and yet compromising with an expectation that we will be able to overcome some day, it is also depiction of our own weakness where we fall under the spell of the tormentor without our knowing it.

Apart from the drama in the interpersonal relationship between the master and servant, to me the protagonist depicts our society itself, in dealing with a Tyrant.  The society detests him and also fears him. It obeys him and yet given an opportunity tries to bring him down.  It exults in his company and his very scent. But it exults more when he is felled.   The servant survives; so too the concept of servitude.  Feudal lords come and go, servants and society go on forever.

There are several other nuances of #AdoorGopalakrishnan in the film I have deliberately avoided highlighting so that viewers can enjoy themselves.

2024

 

Conversation with an unknown

I do not recollect the faces.  But the voices are still in my mind.  I do not know whether I was dreaming or whether I was overhearing some conversation.  It was during a train journey and the news about train burning in some places was perhaps inside my mind when I had gone to sleep.

“Why not provide the youngsters a 4 year course in the military?  It will enhance patriotism.

How?

Just like compulsory military service was mandated in many nations.

Like?

Russia.

How will it enable patriotism to develop?

That is the best place where discipline can be inculcated. 

But do not people of army commit all sorts of heinous crimes when an area is under their occupation?

But that is when they are bound to show their might. Not within the ranks.

But once they go out, what is the guarantee that they will continue with that sort of discipline?

They should be kept under surveillance, for the larger good.

But how can that be done in such a large country?

We should be able to make people take them into their organisation so that they can be monitored.

But why should organisations take such a responsibility?

They have the benefit of getting a trained and disciplined labour force at a very cheap price no?

How can it be called cheap?

These organisations did not have to train them the hard way.

But how does all this create patriotism?

Indoctrination is part of any military training. Don’t you know?

Regarding what?

See, if you have to make a person give his full to fight an enemy nation like Pakistan, indoctrination is essential.  Only then they will be able to fight with conviction, to the extent that either they kill or are prepared to be even killed.  No military can afford to work without such an essential element.

But how does that enhance patriotism.

Fool, don’t you know that being against Pakistan is patriotism?

How?

They have separated away from us and have given us a lot of torment. 

So what is the remedy?

We have to become like them.  It was Gandhi’s fault that we did not become a Hindustan like Pakistan.

Are we not Hindustan now?

No.  There are several others who have confused our identity.

What is our identity?

Our identity is that of great Hindu samrats.

Who was the last Hindu samrat?

There were several …but I do not really remember now.

....

Ok leave it, will everyone be able to get into the training programme?

Now, you have come to the real point.

What is that?

Not everyone can.  They should be qualified.

Qualified? How?

First of all they should possess the physical fitness.  Then mental fitness.

Mental fitness?

Yes, all their back ground can be checked and only then after proper verification certificate from the Police they will be allowed.

But that is done even otherwise for all military training.

But now, we have to be careful.  Since we are going to give them arms training, it cannot be given to those who are against our ideology. Even their outlook in social media will have to be verified.

Yes. Now I got the point. This is a good idea.”

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: