Saturday, February 22, 2014

Love for the Occult

No,I have never been remotely connected with the occult- no astrologers, no magicians or soothsayers.There is a strange curiosity to explore the unknown.Certain occult sciences have posed a few unanswered questions hence they trigger the mind to ask why this happened .Experiences in general  have been either narrated,through books,hearsay bits or self-experience (very minimal).Rationalists need not quiz or comment.All said and done, none of them,experiences, will hardly endorse my views.But at times it is good to satiate the taste buds of fans of Harry Potter & Vampire series to a marginal extent.However stray experiences have raised question marks ?????????? like soap bubbles which vanish but leave a fragrance.

Moving in Circles...

It was nearing midnight and the train that dropped us late by an hour at Bangalore station, which was reason enough to deal with what followed.The house to be visited was located at BSK-3rd stage,as known to Bangaloreans was a sparsely populated area in the '90s.Some were 'pucca' houses, some old and deserted,some new ones not yet occupied in short the area wore a deserted look.The address looked familiar to the sozzled auto rickshaw driver but he was obviously clueless.When it was nearing midnight everybody likes a confident the fellow went on his jaunty ride zig-zag.In a few minutes we got rid of this man and his vehicle on the main road.Loaded with a heavy bag, our four year old son and my husband who wanted to look literate by reading all Kannada sign boards but right directions were evading us. Mobile phones did not exist then,PCOs were shut and any form of public communication looked remote and disappointing.We just kept walking in circles quite unaware that even after two hours we trudged on a circular path to nowhere.

God appears as a handsome young man...

On and on we walked finally we could locate a house lit up with an unlocked gate.Mustering enough courage I knocked at the door...if I had steel fists I could knock down the door.A smart looking chap awake and energetic,wondering why this young woman is at my door.Imploringly I asked him to guide us to the required address.The clock struck 12,the man pondered and laughed --'Oh this house is just behind my house'.NO- my feet concretised there and refused to move till he left us at the required address.'Okay come along'- and we were led.He reached us there and looked like the world's outstanding Samaritan. My husband thanked him a dozen times along with  our son.I must admit we were under the influence of some 'unknown' spirit.Believe it or not the distance between the main road and the house was only 100 meters and it took us two hours to reach the said house.'Misguided' spirit out to have some fun'

Nashik...'Chakkar' for weird rambling.

Balan,( known to realtives but no more now) was a student of the Army school (1930s) who lived away from the school as a hosteler.Every night he returned after dinner on his bicycle back to the hostel.That night he decided to walk back. He reached that 'bewitched' chakkar and kept moving in circles for a long while till he got fatigued and almost fainted.Don't be amused -he wasn't drunk.Fortunately a passerby noticed his wobbly steps and guided him to the hostel.There Balan narrated his harrowing experience.The hostel and school were located barely ten minutes away from each other. Now why did this happen is question mark which grows bigger each time you think of it or analyse it.

The dreaded 'fat lady'-- number 8

How I dread this number which invariably brings bad news especially death if it is a Tuesday. Don't ask me to enlist the names of those who kicked the bucket. How to arrive at 8   ->
Numerology may sound bunkum. Okay so much for a small dose of the occult if I elaborate more, I may land in an asylum (lunatic). Now you know why I love cities, crowded places and human beings. Get sociable with a purpose or else, spirits are always there to lead you astray.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Crows - The Scavenger Breed Yet Domestic

THERE, he sat gawking at that piece of Vada, precariously hanging over the tin sheet,used to shut the trough of fish. The trough had a unique breed of fish just below the stunted mango tree, productive once in two years. Oh - the piece of vada was hurled over by Mansa when she sat there at the crook of the firm branch of the Mango tree.The tree-- A witness to a romantic interlude between him and his consort. Both the crows- Bondhu and Bindu were dedicated to each other, "Where is she?"

She has flown to a different land of lures, lusts and pampering benefactors. Once while crossing the bountiful orchard of Minu, she beckoned him quite flippantly. Bindu was her name. Whenever she could feed her mate she lured him with a mouthful of eats.Now he is sad  and solemnly blinks his eyes as if pretending to look amused or distracted. But have these birds been like soul mates?

The 'vada' kept tottering everytime the wind blew and almost fell into the trough. O what a feast for the fish it would be if it fell in the trough. Bindu's mate was  Bondhu, a crow but a civilised one at that. He was proud of his breed and kept his hobby alive in his habitat but could not decipher his mate's habits.Is the crow a domestic bird who was prone only to scavenging. Bhondu kept hovering around a few houses to sustain itself but could not do without Bindu. The orchard proved a small world for Bindu.

The day -'that day' was memorable for Bondhu, he looked  so forlorn when Bindu flew away.  One day the crow panchayat  declared Bindu to be a flirt and  a whore. She was deemed to leave the orchard as there was no more domesticity left in her. Bondhu waited for her everytime he received his share of food. Today, the vada kept testing his patience, will Bindu come? All of a sudden there was a whirring sound. A flock of bl ack flamingos flew past - Bindu was at the tail end. She kept flying zig zag. Her movement preplexed Bondhu. Yes it was Bindu, she had then got entangled in mesh of electric wires. She was stung by her 'killer', the  electric current that flung her in front of Bondhu  almost dead. Alas,she is bidding farewell again. Bondhu flew and sat by her listening to her parting heart beats. She left, Bondhu flew to the tin sheet and perched with a bang the vada fell into the trough. The fish swam and  nibbled it with glee. Bondhu flew to another land.

Reverence that connects souls   

The earlier mushy-mushy love story is not an appetiser for Valentine's Day but to explain the signficance of togetherness of this species of birds - The crow and its relevance to man is believed to satiate souls (dead persons). Most hindu families revere the crow on a death anniversary. The food to feed the crow is prepared alongside the chanting the slokas that could / should appease the dead person. Just to say how sad we are, you be happy in heaven, we will pray for your soul etc.

The earlier story does not feature in the 'puranas' (religious books) but here we can draw an imagingary tangent that connects man with the crow. Some English poets also mention about the raven ( E.A. Poe) that represents a departed soul.

Why a crow?

The crow scavenges over filth and dead meat - how can a human soul reside in a crow? The bolder of the lot will even perch on your window sill to warn  you that a guest will arrive. We have instances of such warnings in almost all Indian languages. It is a noisy bird, very distracted and an opportunist but will fall prey to a fox who feigns to be a music critic and taps the crow's musical talent, thereby trapping the crow for a piece of cheese.

Black beauty in concert

Black satin-like feathers, roving eyes, an irritating baritone and a long beak to scoop out the best of food or filth. We have seen caged birds of the other species but nobody even wants to cage a crow. All because they are a part of our domestic life closer to earth but they are always (I feel) above cats and dogs or squirrels. Is it the colour or its restless mannerism that alienates the crow from other domestic creatures? But it is another of nature's creations and revere we must the crow that caws, sounds better that the cock that crows.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Thanks A Ton

Hi Readers,my virtual and real readers.I know you are reading my blog but hate to admit it. Anyway thank you a ton.It was fun writing these pieces and very naturally I swung into a flashback , quite erratically placed myself in different periods.But I swear by each one of them that the characters mentioned are real and so are all the events.

Memorable ramblings of the mind

My post 26 will begin with happenings and with people I deal or dealt with.Every character I vibe with makes me fortunate enough to believe that the world is made of varied people.Influenced by persons,books, neighbours, politicians,singers,actors and killers (could be a virus, disease or a human being).The only difference would be that my writing will be opined with a sting or two.Why not I am a woman.Moreover it is the 'humanly flawed' persons who make it to the top,I mean my characters.So let me  quack about them.

Angelic Girls

On those girls...They smacked life like a LOLLIPOP---they were Lily, Sicily, Solly, Lizzy,Dolly and so on.They were chirpy, giggly and hard working.They all worked in different hospitals as nurses or as lab technicians. Yes and they were tenants in the neighbouring flat (Mumbai). Sunday,a day of no work but these girls worked the hardest. Washing, tidying rooms, elaborate cooking, visiting PCOs to make long distance calls to Kerala. In the evening they dressed impeccably to visit the nearby church.They looked like a bunch of multi-coloured flowers.Then flowers attract bees of course in the form of male friends, at times cousins who visited these girls and left after dinner.Then came a dark cloud in another flat where the daughter Beaula, disapproved of a matrimonial match set by her parents. Beaula consumed poison and blanked out in the bathroom.These lovely girls took a day off,  gave the fainted girl an antidote and waited for Beaula to revive. All this to avoid a police case. Needless to say Beaula was saved and later married the same boy as wished by her parents.

Obsessed with male kids?

The old adage "a male is required to propagate the human species" is religiously followed in India. I do worry about those countless street ragamuffins who are children with no parents to be proud of and vice-versa.Well in a civilised world these street children have bloomed on this earth for no fault of theirs.Kavita ( classmate of my son ) is the eldest of her siblings, the first three being girls brought revelation to the father. However, the sweet doting mother was willing to oblige him another risk (?).After a few preliminary tests and a few visits to reputed gynaecs the mother presents a set of twins to the expectant (?) father. Backed and blessed by destiny, one of the twins was a male child.Believe it or not  the girls till date are semi-literate and the boy child is a medical student (Lots of donation for greasing palms). Can you notice the partisan attitude?Such families do deserve a mention in the secret annals of gynaecs.

Vimal's supreme sacrifice

This soft-spoken woman, an ex-colleague,was so happy with a single female child, the family was a perfect symbol of contentment.Today the family is happier.One day she resigned her job and pops up a year later for a brief reunion with us -colleagues. Vimal had left to become a surrogate mother for a friend who could not conceive.Such a sacrifice is laudable and memorable.

A Nobler Example

Ramesh was in his mid-thirties who did not intend to marry the way his parents planned. He married a woman who was disowned by an alcoholic husband (could be mutual). She had two children, whom Ramesh treats as his own. They also are happy to tread the path of family life without stares, jeers or harsh words.

Life has drawn me to such unique cases of matrimony, children and sacrifice. Can something be ingested for a soul search among my readers. If Life has 360 angles I have seen at least half of them.