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Discovery of Panamaram Jain Temple

On the auspicious day of 18th April, 2015 our trip leader discovered the Panamaram Jain Temple, Wayanad, Kerala. This is  how it happened.

At the Pazhassi tomb, Mananthavady, Wayanad, Kerala, we had learned about the Jain temples. Some of which were very close to the place. Hence we embarked on the journey to visit the place. There were sign boards to Panamaram. And then nothing, absolute blank. This Jain Temple was listed, it was not one out of the world, mythological or folklore. But there were no directions given. We searched, asked, got frustrated and then cursed ourselves, but later determined our path with the spirit of travel. We were at Panamaram. That much was clear. But no one knew were the Jain Temple was. We asked lorry drivers, residents. We went in wrong routes 3 times. Then were around the temple for a long time, but could not find a road to it. We could smell it. And then after asking a shopkeeper at Punchavayal.

We were here at Punchavayal. We had returned to the shopkeeper who had told us the way. This time his face was unhappy and disappointed that we could not find the temple. We roamed the road that the shopkeeper pointed to. He also said first left. There was some tarring roadwork happening. We found no clue of the Jain Temple. Then as the road-roller moved, we found the un-tarred road. We thought let this be our last try. And , truly, we had discovered the Ancient Jain Temple at Panamaram after very very short drive into the “road”.

See more photos of Panamaram Jain Temple at

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10153771435920299.1073741864.672120298&type=1&l=9530179a97

 
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Posted by on April 20, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Drawing : Herzliche geburtstag

 
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Posted by on April 10, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

The race of life

Trained to forget, what to regret ?

Things that come bye-pass the core.

Think you can take down ?

Maybe just swallow and frown ,

Let that be the named by-heart.

When there is no heart,

There is no breaking – heart,

Let that be all for all for some time.

When digits let you down all call you “a clown”,

You ponder over the phrase by heart all alone,

Memory that is volatile subtle and supreme,

Why do you ruin the all baked up frame ?

Is that the call sent ! The one you wanted,

Where’s the war which was lost all years ?

Come on, let’s do it just once,

Again all over into the cycle of race; full bloated.

 

 
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Posted by on April 4, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Haiku on International Women’s day

God created her,
Hands that take care; mind that fare;
To help, love and share .

 
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Posted by on March 9, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Trying Haiku style for first time.

Is this a haiku
I cannot be very sure enough
To claim if it is.

The Fish of the water
Fresh of lake or of the sea
Tastes good when cooked well.

Born and breathe in water
Live and Die with the same water
Death, birth, repeat and replete

Where the life of fish
Goes with its ambulation
It knows not as the water

Crops grown with water
Makes the hunger die and let live
It is not the same without

Water used in
big city could cater to
many at outskirts.

We waste water, speak
Of life, love, thoughts, hate and death,
None would happen without this

—-

Trying haiku poetry for first time

Formula:
Line: Syllables

Line 1: 5,
Line 2: 7,
Line 3: 5.

PS: Updated/Edited to fit the haiku formula

 
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Posted by on February 18, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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The Jealous Indian

Kaaviya Thalaivan is an old idea brilliantly shown in  a new way on the big screen. The jealousy of a man , how mystically it could be held for sometime and then shown with the thought of revenge, to kill, his fellow man, a brother equivalent, brought up by the same father, the same guru, the same school of drama, the same stories and incidences, only to grow the jealousy with it, to end one with the other, to end oneself in the end. The story is also projects a point of discussion for the discussion on lack of words in Indian language beautifully differentiated by the ideas of “envy” and “jealousy”.

The jealousy of  a person to another mostly involves a sense of revenge and intimidation that forces that person to hate the subject of jealousy. Why not be envious in the same instance, where there is also a possibility to be happy about the achievements of a person and appreciate it and then think why I could not be like that. This is a softer form of jealousy but without any enmity. It can also be argued that there is mild “Asooya” (jealousy in Samskrtam) that grows on and festers into the revenge-ful savage form that is associated with jealousy.The Hindi word for jealousy “Jalan” is very close to fire or burning and used so.

To be envious is a peaceful act, where one simply wishes to match the quality or skill of another. This helps to promote healthy competition. This in turn benefits both the subject of envy and the envious. This is an ideal form of emotion. But human emotions knows no bounds. There is always a wilder form. And thence comes the jealousy. Why Indian languages do not have an equivalent term form “envy” is mysterious. Are Indians by nature forced to have jealousy rather than envy. If that is so imagine such a large population dragging each other down because of this bad attitude, which later becomes a habit. It is not for joke that the story of Kerala crab (later scaled up and known as story of Indian crab was told). This is also a frequently told story in Indian speeches by teachers and politicians. Here, it is retold in my version for the record.

The story of the Kerala Crab

Kerala crabs are famous as a culinary item. I found a nice photo of one here.

 

(Image courtesy: http://www.shutterstock.com)

A foreigner from Britain found the crab being loaded in a ship. This was a regularly exported item to Europe. He had come a long way from his land to find how it is that they get fresh crab. The baskets on which the crabs were loaded were not covered. And he was surprised. If it was not covered then the crabs may come out and escape. How then will the basket reach full of crabs, as he has seen in his port-town. Then the loader explained to him. “Sayippe! These are Kerala crabs. It has mindset of Keralites. If one crabs climbs to top of the basket others from inside would pull it down. Like this no crab is allowed to escape beacuse of their behaviour, and you get fresh crabs to eat.”

The British astonishment vanished from the face and now it turned red and laughed.

 

Jealousy ingrained in this form throughout a sub-continent would be a surprise to a naive mind. This is but a working principle in this beautiful land of variety.

 
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Posted by on February 11, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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The rice ball of Morita

On any other day I would have agreed with my friend’s recommendation of getting some extra sleep. But today I felt somewhat odd. I was reading the story of Akio Morita the who made Sony. There was too much news on the media.

Some time back I watched Steve Jobs speech, an excellent speech that someone had shared on internet. Then suddenly the announcement of his death flashed in TV. A lot of people compared him to Einstein and Edison. But what had he done to society. Make some mad people who wait in queue to get some fancy gadget? Here, in my country, I see people standing in queue for water, for ration from ration shops, for voting, for getting tickets and for things that make life happen sustainably. But people out there mourn the death of a person who made a lot of money by making them addicts. Would it be the same if the liquor tycoons died and drinkers, Indians all over the sub-continent mourn their death by drinking more. What a tragedy it would have been! I should not talk bad about dead people let alone leaving ones. But questions and thoughts are one incessant flow without checkdams, until you open it out. My only relation with any apple being related to my digestive system, I ignored the news at first. Of course, my touchscreen phone cover has a bitten apple as logo, but it is considered an insult to give a bitten apple to someone. As far as ‘A for a full apple’ remains the learner’s rule, things are less harmful.

Continuing with the journey of Mr. Morita I could realize how much Japanese had suffered how it was that they , who believed “Made in Japan” to be of low quality item , made the same as one which people admire especially gadget freaks in the third floor of my apartments. They were involved in everything Japan, they didn’t believe in the USA, European or any other electronic merchandise. The thing was that there father had been to Japan and was a 5S guru in his office. The office got some recognition through implementation of 5S strategy. Theirs is an odd case, the two freaks, who may be called friends have their father a Gujarathi businessman and mother a Bengali. Sometimes I feel it is through her that the Japanese link came. She looks like a Japanese than anything else. Of course, I can’t tell the difference between a Japanese and Korean.

These freaks searched a lot for Japanese foods and settled for a Korean cuisine and Chinese if nothing else. They would go to a Korean Spicy chicken restaurant every Saturday after college hours and would learn Japanese from some place which has escaped my local expeditions. The duo would spend half their awake lives in Sony PS2 and both owned Japanese mobile phones. Their General Knowledge is not that sharp in that they didn’t know about the wireless charging mechanism that the Japanese telecom giant had commercialised. The philosophy of the Japanese caught my attention when the brighter of the two explained to me. The Japanese since the devastation during the nuclear attacks never went for war, they never made destructive weapons for themselves or for others. They are through commerce and technology the world leader, even the Western world looks upon them with reverence. So many calamities have struck them, manmade and otherwise. Frequent earthquakes and Tsunami’s are like seeing coconut trees in Kerala, always anytime anywhere. But they survived. They are the best examples of human race on that regard. They may not mingle with other races in mainlands as expected, but with their own language and culture intact they have helped themselves become mighty. “Had it been the Japanese who started conquests before the UK then I would be typing talking and reading in Japanese” sais the second freak. And saying this he lend a book for me to read , and that was about Mr. Morita. As I was engrossed in the reading I saw some rice balls steamed hot, and ready for stomach, (Kozhakatta) on the table. As the hand reached for one, the words I were reading struck me with awe. I read that Japanese eat rice and Mr. Morita was packing up some rice balls to be eaten enroute. I underlined those lines with red ink and bolted upstairs. They had been going to Korean and Chinese restaurant and here was the Japanese corporate leader going to have rice balls under my nose, I was reading with head down. I couldn’t wait to tell them this. I bolted off to meet those guys and announced my discovery. Their facial expressions did not flinch, and I was still wondering. It was lunch time and a sweet smell of something very familiar reached my olfactory senses. I checked my hands and made sure that there was no rice ball in my hand. The Bengali auntie called off loudly to both the boys “lunch is ready come and have it before it cools down, give that game boxes some rest”. With a small gap between the shoulders of the half Japanese boys I could see steam rising from a large transparent glass bowl. It was filled with rice balls.

 
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Posted by on February 10, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Shamitabh is thicker than water

I wandered through the streets of Delhi, unmindful of the pollution or the traffic. I roamed in that freezing winter. Then I reach my room only to see the Shamitabh trailer a hundredth time. Dhanush, Amitabh, Shamitabh and repeat! Devuda! why! even the newspaper is full of Shamitabh. As his name says “amit” (over and above the limit)  and “abha” (aura) is what the marketing people have done literally . Even in the season of nail-biting election campaign this February Shamitabh pulls off the TV audience.Getting irritated by repetition in telecast media is not new to me. Previously,  I had really got frustrated at Fabregas for no fault of his.  I had to pull of the plug. There is film, people would watch if they feel like. And then Amitabh in Shamitabh would say ” I am the alcohol and the other fellow is water”.

This advertisements also run on the same philosophy, who is water depends on which side you are in. The advertisements bring free news and programs ( is it the alcohol ?) , for the viewer the content is important and advertisement is like water. Wasted water, wasted resource of air time, wasted time, and more often a non-sense irritant, to watch repeatedly the same advertisement which is not at all useful. That is the trade off , I guess. Milk is mixed with water. Politics is mixed with non-sense. Blogs are filled with noise. And more than air, more than water, what people look for is the kick; of the content. Where does the kick come from ? From something which catches the attention of the mind, from something which is pleasing to the eyes, to the ears, from some information which is useful. I feel that is why the Blogging 201 asks to put up a motto, an aim, on why to write and for whom to write. I have not really reached a real practical conclusion on this regard for my scribblings. Nevertheless, I see my blog statistics , get addicted to it, and then feel this. This is addictive, this is alcohol, even water can be addictive when it is in short supply.

 
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Posted by on February 9, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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A visit to Cholamandalam Arts Village

As a connoisseur of many arts I as a human being have to dabble with events and places that are up to my understanding. This is how a hm…, west of India, land may perceive. India is a land of variety in all fields. Somehow we do not have enough marketing or publicizing of the abundance of this land. Earlier in my Hyderabad hiatus I’d mentioned the exhibition of artist from Bengal, Asit Kumar Haldar . There was more to the this land of art was shown to me in this place . The Cholamandalam Arts Village. The place hidden away in the city of Chennai and far from the chaos of it. MTC bus 588 goes this way. It is situated at a long walk ,for the unused legs,from ,VGP bus stop. There I saw the board of entrance. A tea stall decorates its view from the road.

The actual entrance is from an inside road. There was a fancy big house with trees and garden. That was the house of arts village. There was a ticket for entrance. Some ten rupees. And inside is collection o paintings drawings and modern art and sculpture. There are some creative stone art surrounding the building. After musing over the paintings and art in its form, from a student’s view ,then a common man’s view, then a philosophical critic’s view and finally a moral and ethical view one gets tired. Tired of standing a lot. Tired of standing in the bus, standing and looking at the art. The thought process , the necessity of a change for relaxation was the one which I wanted to satiate by visiting the place.

Now I needed rest in rest, rest for the rest. Fixing on this I sat on the chairs that were arranged for some meeting to be held. This was the inauguration of art exhibition in the exhibition hall. After relaxing a bit my eyes were looking around,while my legs were bitten by mosquitoes which wanted its evening blood. The hands swayed and hit some of those but missing most of them The money plant on the tree in the front looked artistically wild. Then view shifted upon a piece of black rock smoothened and kept in an odd place and looked out of place. On a closer watch it turned out to be an art from a German artist. And then I noticed that there were many more things kept outside the building, there was a path to go around the building. This led to many simple and complicated sculpture .The simplest was a log at a corner near a on room building. I had to search out the information plate to identify it as art. Like life of an artist, each art is a journey and to each art there is a journey. There is art for the busy, the calm, the quiet, the wild, the peaceful, the divine and the chaotic.

 
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Posted by on February 6, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Life Lessons from violin class : Lesson 5 : Practice till perfection

Practice, practice, practice. Quantity and Quality all matters. Playing any musical instrument is all about practice. It is all the more true for the violin. As a student I have to practice. I know I can. I know I will. But how much ? Till my hands ache ? Till I feel it is enough ? Till some digression comes in the form of a phone call ? What actually is enough ? Who judges perfection ? There are some songs that need hours of practice and still sounds like hollow, with lot of space to improve and refine. Without a proper judge there cannot be improvement. One reason why people search and find a good guru, especially in music, is because of this. The value of a critic who can differentiate and tell what is wrong, where exactly and how to overcome the seemingly insurmountable. An examiner can give words of advice, suggestions and possibilities and his judgement, that remains on paper, making itself a glyph to be decoded later. A good guru (teacher ?!) solves the issues of analysis, training, comprehending, making things easy to understand, easy to play, treat the disease of wrongly placed notes and improve the overall music throughput from the violin, otherwise a collection of pieces of wood and strings.

In life at one point or other we have this feeling of emptiness, where there is no further progress from the current state. One has to go in search of a critic or mentor to find out places to improve. This guru could be one’s self, an imaginary tutor or an inspiration for great men. More than spiritual or divine intervention it is much about the way a human mind works. One tends to look at with jealousy at some valiant connoisseur. Sometimes we envy. Sometimes and most often with intimidation. The stages of thoughts tend to tempt the mind towards mediocrity. And it needs to be reminded that there is no limit to excel.

Whatever our work in life or profession we start with curiosity, interest, need and then slowly put effort to practice with quantity and then quality and then both. Then we reach a state of betterment. There is no stopping here, we move further. Get tempted to perfection. Practice more. Practice until perfection.

Read more from this series here :-

  • Life Lessons from violin class : Lesson 1 : Do not think ! - After learning some basic notes on the staves I was told to know it by heart. I had to memorize it, and then tell when I see a note. I used to count, say memorizing only the first not in space , the “F” on Treble clef. From there on I would count and then […]
  • Life Lessons from violin class : Lesson 2 : Don’t work hard - The power of doing work is a single most important criteria that distinguishes a human as a social animal compared to others. The collective and individual efforts towards a work makes one understand the minute and the big picture at the same time. All work is not easy. It is also possible that some workaholics […]
  • Life Lessons from violin class : Lesson 3 : Emphasize on Quality of Practice - I read “ Debunking the 10,000 hours rule “  after my previous lesson learned. My previous lesson learned said about not working hard. The working hard part is broken into small steps taken one at a time to overcome the hardness of the work. This works for people who are ready to be steady and […]
  • Life Lessons from violin class : Lesson 4 : Don’t tap your foot out loud. Focus on what you play. - In violin class I have been taught to keep the rhythm of the song by tapping with the foot. The human metronome works parallel to the song being played. Often we  have to shift attention from the song and listen to see if the rhythm and beat is correct per bar. This shift in attention […]
  • Life Lessons from violin class : Lesson 5 : Practice till perfection - Practice, practice, practice. Quantity and Quality all matters. Playing any musical instrument is all about practice. It is all the more true for the violin. As a student I have to practice. I know I can. I know I will. But how much ? Till my hands ache ? Till I feel it is enough […]
 
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Posted by on February 4, 2015 in Lesson, Series

 

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