February 15, 2012
Morning walk today had to be shorter because I had to carry Amma's bag to the RBI Officer's quarters from where she took a car on her annual pilgrimage to Sabarimala. Achan had to take care of few things at the bank. I went with him to be dropped of at the DC bookstore. On the way I told him a new story idea that I had been entertaining. He suggested a few good additional elements.
At the DC bookstores, sales girls in training approached with brochures of the upcoming compendium of "World Thought". Too expensive and too big for digesting in a life time. But the collection would be a great addition for those who maintain book shelves to act as showcases. I asked them where I can find a copy of the poetry collection"Edikaloori Panambattadi". That intriguingly meaningless title has been given by poet P.N. Gopikrishnan for his second collection. The first one published 6 years ago was called "Manifesto of the lazy". I loved the couple of poems he recited at the Kriya poetry fest many weeks back.
I was told that DC books didn't have a copy of the book but it was published by Mathrubhumi books so they would surely have it in stock. I walked to Mathrubhumi book story, taking the road that goes via the "Kalamman" temple. From the magnificent novel "Chaavu Thullal" and a couple of other books, now I know that Amman was the native Malayalam word for father. So it is easy to guess that these aboriginal gods were sort of insultingly feminized by the Hindu onslaught in later centuries. Along the same road called Tutor's line, there is another Uchan Mahakali Amman temple which is a strange mix of the original ancestral Amman diety with the attempted franchise of the Ujjain Mahakali temple. Press Trust of India's office is right next to this temple.
In between these two temples, massive heaps of uncleared rubbish. Once gods have into inhuman sphere of ritualistic worship, who cares how the planet goes. Ring the holy bells, offer the flowers, put on some sandal paste streaks and hold your noses while walking around. If possible close your eyes while chanting some mantras, I am told this increases their potency!
The Mathrubhumi book store is a cylinder. Curved book shelves form broken concentric circles. New additions meet the visitor first in the inner most circle. Spirituality and English non fiction complete this circle. The next circle holds translations, self-help, poetry. Non fiction sits in the outermost ring.
I browsed through Dr. S. Sharadakutty's collection of essays. She has written a great one on facebook. It was heartening to find an upbeat and positive view of facebook as a great venue to share and learn rather than the usual tirade against it as a waste of time. I guess people see only what they want to see. From the publisher's note on this book, I learnt that she has translated Bilhana's Caurapanchasika. I found it in the poetry section at the shop. I called Achan and learnt that he was still stuck at the bank. So sat down with Caurapanchasika, an outstanding collection of erotic love poetry from 11th century Kashmir. This work was also shunned by the prudish, anal retentive pretentious Indian custodians of culture very much like the 8th section of Kalidasa's Kumarasambhava. That segment which narrates in detail Shiva's utter sexual submission to Parvati came under much fire from the critics ever since it was written. Some even claimed it wasn't by Kalidasa and that it was a curse from the goddess that made him write those lines. Sort of satanic verses!
I picked up the book that I had come looking for and joined Achan at the bank. Gopikrishnan's poetry is very entertaining broken prose. I hope to relish the poems in rereading over the next few days.
All the walking around in the sun, I would like to blame for the unexpected nap in the afternoon. Evening at Cafe Coffee Day helping Saiju finish his presentation on sea port architecture for an upcoming conference in Chennai. A particularly rambunctious crowd of youngsters at the coffee shop today. The loud attempts of young men falling over each other in their attempts to impress a pretty lady is so universal. At at least five tables in the shop, new movies were being planned. After finishing the rough outline of the presentation, we went inside the airconditioned area for another cup of black coffee. An obnoxiously loud aunty was slashing the young man sitting across from her, with a visibly trapped expression on his face, with her heavily accent English statements.
Achan made a concoction of the coconut flower from the cut tree with palm sugar. A rare delicacy. That reminds me: I found in Dr. Sugathan's book the traditional Kerala recipe for a sweet toddy called "Madhurakallu". Jaggery is mixed with the small bananas of the 'Palayamkodan' variety and fermented in jars topped off with water. This water is drained a few days later and mixed with more fruits like jackfruit and pineapple and kept for three or four days. Finally an addition of cardamom, black pepper, cloves and mint. I wonder if anyone makes it these days. Akkani, the sweet alcoholic drink from Palmyra has become popular again in the outskirts of the city by the side of the highways now that the heat has begun to pick up.
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