Thursday, August 11, 2011 at 10:34pm
The day started with another temple visit.
There is a goddess temple that is close to Achan’s family home in the city. Amma had promised an offering of silk and gold. The same offering she had made during the weekend at her family temple. If the goddesses are anything like the women here, they would surely be telling each other about the gifts coming their way, especially silk and gold type. So it made sense that the offering is faithfully replicated. The gold part of the offering is a tiny heart-shaped pendant no more than a few hundred milligrams. Similar but heavier pendant hangs from the sacred marital thread worn by Hindu women in the state. Like the valentine love sign, ‘heart’ shape is a euphemism!
We reached the temple a little before 7am. It is a small temple and was not crowded; just a few school/college kids with “shining morning face, creeping like a snail unwillingly”. The head priest seated inside the sanctum sported a stylish bulgan beard. The small chamber was lit only by oil lamps. He had to hold the receipt up to the lamp repeatedly so that he could read the names and star signs on my sister and her fiancée and then incorporate them into the custom-made prayer.
But after a minute of chanting, he abruptly stopped and started busying himself adjusting the garlands on the idol. Amma reached for her purse. In a reaction that would have thrilled Pavlov, the priest immediately resumed much bell-ringing, chanting and camphor burning.
Hindu gods are the original consultancy services much like the modern day Deloitte, KPMG etc. When you have a problem or wish to get something done, you seek their assistance. There is a fee. Plenty of obscure jargon freely flows from the custodians of privileged knowledge. After going through the motions, your faith in their authority (and loss aversion) confers a respectability and assigns some effectiveness to the unfolding of future events.
I walked around the temple a bit. There was a ‘Navagraha’ (nine heavenly bodies) set up to the side. Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Rahu and Kethu form this committee. The ‘theertham’ (holy water) tasted like highly diluted milk stored in a stone container.
Plenty of men crowded around the tree next the nearby tea shop. The tea master was carefully dumping a whole packet of masala powder into the ‘sambar’ (mix veggie soup) boiling towards breakfast.
While walking back, two crows were tugging at the entrails of a dead rat in the middle of the road. Natural divination!
Checked on the progress of the garden project. The basil plants are not showing any sign of life yet. The rose and hibiscus stems haven’t deteriorated. That is good. Ginger roots haven’t been disturbed by the big rats as feared. Two specimens of a hot species of chili have been kept for drying so that the seeds can be planted. I am pretty sure it is closely related to Habenaro. I have noticed a couple of dried up fronts on one of the coconut trees that is close to the wall with our neighbor. If they fall by themselves, there is a chance of a minor diplomatic incident since the neighbor keeps the glass windows of their bedroom right beneath perpetually open.
Yesterday got a chance to visit the largest private residential property, after the royal family, within the city. The traditional Kerala home called Naalukettu including the entrance frames (padipurra) is preserved there with some modifications. The compound has a variety of trees including the manchadi (coralwood/red bead) with the shiny, red beads covering the ground underneath it. The afternoon breeze was cool enough to give me a shiver.
The elusive Greater Coucal’s coop-coop-coop can be frequently heard during the day. I did spot one couple of days ago. Mynaas also make daily visits to the neighborhood. As far as I can tell, only ixoria (yellow and red) and jasmine are in bloom in the garden. Yet there is a steady stream of butterflies. A couple was mating this morning, flitting from leaf to leaf of the jasmine.
Till the early 90s, during the songs in the movies, the camera would cut away from the hero and heroine closing in on each other, to focus on flowers shaking in the breeze or a butterfly feeding from a flower. That static flower stood for the great Indian womanhood waiting for its sweetness to be sucked out by an insect which would then move on!
These urban butterflies were much slower compared to a vibrant tango of a couple going round and round mid-air that I saw in the village last weekend. All forms of animal mating look like rape to me.
Now that prolonged, deep, French kisses have become the stepping stones to stardom in Indian cinema, the flowers and butterflies are out of the picture!
I was relieved of the wedding invitation duty today as the man with the broadband modem was supposed to show up in the afternoon. Partly because of that and partly because my uncle was tagging along and it is considered inauspicious for three people to do the invitations! Nowhere else in the world is it this easy to experience the blur between beliefs and superstitions! Apparently people carry a small stone with them to represent an extra person if they are forced into a three-member wedding invitation team.
Similarly, the sight of sharp objects is considered bad luck while embarking on a trip. Good sights include dead bodies, milk-bearers and prostitutes. I am pretty sure that prostitutes joined the list after some big shot astrologer had to come up with an explanation for the presence of a prostitute in his front yard. The coop-cooping of the coucal mentioned earlier is also believed to be a good omen. There must have been some feudal despots who didn’t mind finishing off some indentured soul to guarantee a good omen dead body.
I notice that the stray dogs walking around show distinct signs of genetic involvement from expensive breeds and rich pedigree. Obviously, the pet dogs in the posh homes are imitating the behavior of their masters and mistresses!
Staying home for the day meant progress was made through the temple history book. Particularly fascinating was a reference in an 18th century ballad about a devil who promised to go to the Himalayas to bring the riches of the Pandavas to the Padmanabhaswami temple!
A humorous article in today’s Mathrubhumi newspaper talked about the new breed of tour guides who have ‘avatared’ around the temple to cater to the ever increasing flow of tourists and out-of-state devotees. Since non-Hindus are not allowed inside, foreigners can only take pictures of the gopuram (pagoda) and walk around the wall. This leads to the tour guides demonstrating the appearance of the idol by striking the posture lying down on the temple steps. One guide, frustrated with his inability to explain it using his limited knowledge of English, finally told a keen visitor, “Hello madam, you see, inside the god is unconscious!”
When Amma returned from today’s round of invitations, she brought along long-bean and bitter-gourd seeds and some drumstick (moringa) saplings to enhance the garden project. A cousin on my mother’s side sent some sweetsops (sitapazham) and a cousin on my father’s side, a jackfruit.
There are two main varieties of jackfruit. The sweeter, harder ‘varikka’ variety is preferred over the squishier ‘koozha’ variety. Like apple, it is nearly impossible to know the breed of the jackfruit tree till the fruit is cut open. One of the grannies we had visited few days back fondly remembered that I used to offer her the delicious ‘varikka’ jackfruit from the tree in our old house whenever she came to the physiotherapist who lived in that neighborhood more than twenty years ago. That tree was cut down few years back. The memories of the fruity fragrance and the flavor endure. Both the jackfruit trees in the house we now live in are ‘koozha’ type.
India’s relationship pains can give #firstworldpains a run for the money. Discussions on topics like the silent treatment given to an uncle’s brother-in-law’s nephew’s wife’s maternal uncle by his daughter-in-law’s granduncle’s second cousin are common and conducted with much passion.
Was happy to notice three bats hovering in the area at sunset. The drastic reduction in their numbers and the near total disappearance of frogs have been a blessing for the mosquito population.
The floodlights on the billboard atop a towering apartment complex nearby competes with the moon.
The modem has arrived. The internet connection is expected tomorrow.
Oh and for a change, no visits meant no marriage discussions for the day!
The day started with another temple visit.
There is a goddess temple that is close to Achan’s family home in the city. Amma had promised an offering of silk and gold. The same offering she had made during the weekend at her family temple. If the goddesses are anything like the women here, they would surely be telling each other about the gifts coming their way, especially silk and gold type. So it made sense that the offering is faithfully replicated. The gold part of the offering is a tiny heart-shaped pendant no more than a few hundred milligrams. Similar but heavier pendant hangs from the sacred marital thread worn by Hindu women in the state. Like the valentine love sign, ‘heart’ shape is a euphemism!
We reached the temple a little before 7am. It is a small temple and was not crowded; just a few school/college kids with “shining morning face, creeping like a snail unwillingly”. The head priest seated inside the sanctum sported a stylish bulgan beard. The small chamber was lit only by oil lamps. He had to hold the receipt up to the lamp repeatedly so that he could read the names and star signs on my sister and her fiancée and then incorporate them into the custom-made prayer.
But after a minute of chanting, he abruptly stopped and started busying himself adjusting the garlands on the idol. Amma reached for her purse. In a reaction that would have thrilled Pavlov, the priest immediately resumed much bell-ringing, chanting and camphor burning.
Hindu gods are the original consultancy services much like the modern day Deloitte, KPMG etc. When you have a problem or wish to get something done, you seek their assistance. There is a fee. Plenty of obscure jargon freely flows from the custodians of privileged knowledge. After going through the motions, your faith in their authority (and loss aversion) confers a respectability and assigns some effectiveness to the unfolding of future events.
I walked around the temple a bit. There was a ‘Navagraha’ (nine heavenly bodies) set up to the side. Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Rahu and Kethu form this committee. The ‘theertham’ (holy water) tasted like highly diluted milk stored in a stone container.
Plenty of men crowded around the tree next the nearby tea shop. The tea master was carefully dumping a whole packet of masala powder into the ‘sambar’ (mix veggie soup) boiling towards breakfast.
While walking back, two crows were tugging at the entrails of a dead rat in the middle of the road. Natural divination!
 |
| Red hot & spicy! |
Yesterday got a chance to visit the largest private residential property, after the royal family, within the city. The traditional Kerala home called Naalukettu including the entrance frames (padipurra) is preserved there with some modifications. The compound has a variety of trees including the manchadi (coralwood/red bead) with the shiny, red beads covering the ground underneath it. The afternoon breeze was cool enough to give me a shiver.
The elusive Greater Coucal’s coop-coop-coop can be frequently heard during the day. I did spot one couple of days ago. Mynaas also make daily visits to the neighborhood. As far as I can tell, only ixoria (yellow and red) and jasmine are in bloom in the garden. Yet there is a steady stream of butterflies. A couple was mating this morning, flitting from leaf to leaf of the jasmine.
Till the early 90s, during the songs in the movies, the camera would cut away from the hero and heroine closing in on each other, to focus on flowers shaking in the breeze or a butterfly feeding from a flower. That static flower stood for the great Indian womanhood waiting for its sweetness to be sucked out by an insect which would then move on!
These urban butterflies were much slower compared to a vibrant tango of a couple going round and round mid-air that I saw in the village last weekend. All forms of animal mating look like rape to me.
Now that prolonged, deep, French kisses have become the stepping stones to stardom in Indian cinema, the flowers and butterflies are out of the picture!
I was relieved of the wedding invitation duty today as the man with the broadband modem was supposed to show up in the afternoon. Partly because of that and partly because my uncle was tagging along and it is considered inauspicious for three people to do the invitations! Nowhere else in the world is it this easy to experience the blur between beliefs and superstitions! Apparently people carry a small stone with them to represent an extra person if they are forced into a three-member wedding invitation team.
Similarly, the sight of sharp objects is considered bad luck while embarking on a trip. Good sights include dead bodies, milk-bearers and prostitutes. I am pretty sure that prostitutes joined the list after some big shot astrologer had to come up with an explanation for the presence of a prostitute in his front yard. The coop-cooping of the coucal mentioned earlier is also believed to be a good omen. There must have been some feudal despots who didn’t mind finishing off some indentured soul to guarantee a good omen dead body.
I notice that the stray dogs walking around show distinct signs of genetic involvement from expensive breeds and rich pedigree. Obviously, the pet dogs in the posh homes are imitating the behavior of their masters and mistresses!
Staying home for the day meant progress was made through the temple history book. Particularly fascinating was a reference in an 18th century ballad about a devil who promised to go to the Himalayas to bring the riches of the Pandavas to the Padmanabhaswami temple!
A humorous article in today’s Mathrubhumi newspaper talked about the new breed of tour guides who have ‘avatared’ around the temple to cater to the ever increasing flow of tourists and out-of-state devotees. Since non-Hindus are not allowed inside, foreigners can only take pictures of the gopuram (pagoda) and walk around the wall. This leads to the tour guides demonstrating the appearance of the idol by striking the posture lying down on the temple steps. One guide, frustrated with his inability to explain it using his limited knowledge of English, finally told a keen visitor, “Hello madam, you see, inside the god is unconscious!”
When Amma returned from today’s round of invitations, she brought along long-bean and bitter-gourd seeds and some drumstick (moringa) saplings to enhance the garden project. A cousin on my mother’s side sent some sweetsops (sitapazham) and a cousin on my father’s side, a jackfruit.
There are two main varieties of jackfruit. The sweeter, harder ‘varikka’ variety is preferred over the squishier ‘koozha’ variety. Like apple, it is nearly impossible to know the breed of the jackfruit tree till the fruit is cut open. One of the grannies we had visited few days back fondly remembered that I used to offer her the delicious ‘varikka’ jackfruit from the tree in our old house whenever she came to the physiotherapist who lived in that neighborhood more than twenty years ago. That tree was cut down few years back. The memories of the fruity fragrance and the flavor endure. Both the jackfruit trees in the house we now live in are ‘koozha’ type.
India’s relationship pains can give #firstworldpains a run for the money. Discussions on topics like the silent treatment given to an uncle’s brother-in-law’s nephew’s wife’s maternal uncle by his daughter-in-law’s granduncle’s second cousin are common and conducted with much passion.
Was happy to notice three bats hovering in the area at sunset. The drastic reduction in their numbers and the near total disappearance of frogs have been a blessing for the mosquito population.
The floodlights on the billboard atop a towering apartment complex nearby competes with the moon.
The modem has arrived. The internet connection is expected tomorrow.
Oh and for a change, no visits meant no marriage discussions for the day!
No comments:
Post a Comment