First my cool,
then my curtsy,
last my silence.
My cool our pleasure
my curtsy my present choice
my silence to move ahead
First my cool,
then my curtsy,
last my silence.
My cool our pleasure
my curtsy my present choice
my silence to move ahead
One bored afternoon, I went with Raaga to attend the lecture of Srinivasan,[hoping my memory is serving well about his name], Cambridge trained micro economist, teaching at IIM Kozhikode. By then I was understanding economics well. To put it straight, while figuring out to live with out an income (:-(, I had touched the base.
In the lecture, while he was writing the equations and graphs I was , for a change, following everything he said.
Then asked the question
“what will happen in the limiting case of the integral which he was putting as the function to represent the distributed economic status of everyone in the society, nation,organization and government , with an inter linking, and inter reflecting nature?”
“Well, I dont know about any such limiting case, you must ask that fellow he is a mathematician , I am not!” …….straight came his reply.
But the professor sitting beside, with one of the more beautiful smiles I have seen, said,
And at the world level? I quipped !
Don’t we know! he smiled:
I smiled too!
Well, it seems only two of us were making sense of the lecture, rest were having, after lunch effects including the speaker!
I realized. I realized I had hope, my world has a place in reality and vice versa.
Five years before this event, a writer went to his auditor’s house, on a Sunday morning. Since the auditor would never come out of his room even a minute before the appointment, the early visitor was kept waiting in the hall, and was also treated with the rice bread ( Akki rotti, kai chuntney, world famous in that whole town) by the auditor’s wife. Since the writer was in a jovial mood, the auditor’s house wife, who had read all his novels; given as the complimentary copies, even before publications, complained, in her characteristic way,
“Yen Saar, eshTondu vOdiddEra, Adru nim muKKHadalli saraswathi KhaLene illa, neevu adyen bareethiro, jana adyen vodthaaro, naan bere kaaNe!”
With the mouth full of the delicious Akki-rotti and Chutney, the author could not give any reply before the moment passed to next in the conversation, but made an expression, which was too difficult to categorize as either acceptance or denial.
Since then, not going by that advice, he kept on writing books and that house wife read each of them, only to comment after finishing each, thale thinthaan aa vayya!
This author has recently written a ‘cover’ story, in his vernacular. A lot of debate has come and still going on, about it. After all why does any one write like that, which has communal LOOKING Bhava?
Usually at the limiting case of the persona, each one either knows how to leave, or how to get: he/she is usually an opposer or a supporter, when resolved ACTually. By figuring out a greater thing than any thing previously they are identified with, by supporting it, by adding value with their own individual experiential pedigree, they usually gain the greater acceptance and relevance. On the other hand, the other kind would also figure out the same thing but would find the most fundamentally antagonizing aspect to that power to oppose, again to get the same result of gaining greater acceptance and relevance. In both ways they would have increased one more dime in their value.
So, after achieving great linguistic craftsmanship and literary artistry, it becomes important to apply it to those things which matter most to those who matter most in the world, who can, in return, reward with what matter most. This decides the path that each one takes, depending on one’s the personal temperment, background and stamina.
See you can either win for Uncle Tom as Hemingway, or loose against it for Her Majesty as Eliot, to reach Stockholm. Both way it works the same.
This distinction is so easily manifested, by the titles of antagonizer’s works …. the list goes on
The Waste Land, Disgrace, Satanic verses, One hundred years of solitude, now on a minor scale this “cover” story um …
“He wrote great works before his 30. But since then people wont read him, critics don’t like him”, said Nadira Khanum about her husband.
“No body wanted him when he started, I mean his writing” says T Tejpal about the same guy.
Then he wrote about all that he could relate to in his pedigree, and just took the stand , which would look appropriate to those who matter most!
So,as an example which most likely to be in the mind scape of my reader;
Remember the sense of last two pages of “India, an area of darkness” ; meaning…
“Why did I ever bother about India?
As the aeroplane was about to land,
I was nearing Milan one of the most sophisticated cities of the modern times.”
He can only write about what he belongs to, but has to uphold the perspective as to relate to the one who matter most!
And then he wrote about those suppressed civilizations and their dangers to the Uncle, which on that 9-11 came true. With in weeks, pat came his Stockholm call.
[ Similarly, the uncle told another colored MIT MBA, with a white wife, heading an office; which no one listens to yet, to be peaceful while he tests his toys at some desert lands. He was. So, for his peaceful conduct, he too along with his peace loving office got a Stockholm call ! ]
So, a wild [mod[x] ie |x|]measure can be made that 9-11 was a job worth two dynamite medals in its impact! albeit in the other way!
Their lies the clue. But to add the vitality to those stands, both kinds, never the less have to live it all, and spend them selves, if they have enough virtues to!
Else , weep on saying
The woods are lonely dark and deep,
But I have many promises to keep.
Miles and miles to go before I sleep.
Miles and miles to go before I sleep.
Now the equations of Srinivasan, would culminate, well on the world stage, with the well implied entity, with its religious, political, economical and social facets. So, in every walk of life, ubiquitously every one is climbing the same rope, of course along its different threads.
90 years ago, when there was a voice differing from that of a naked fakir, who was thorn in the raj, they hurried to legitimize it internationally, with the Stockholm call, even if the lone supporter in Yeats too did not take it long to classify his work as “sentimental rubbish”.
Recently, another client of that same auditor had deleted my “write up on his student and friend”, , form his “signature” blog.
“HenDathiya koNeya baagilannU thatti, appaNe padedu voLa hOguva nEnu saBhya, Adare subbaNNa kakka santha… “Clip Jiont
Of course he has more than his writings to reaffirm in his affiliations along many threads of that rope.
Well, he climbed the rope long ago, and reached the Jain foundation’s podium.
Now this another author who recently wrote his much debated book, has found a way, appropriate to his antagonistic persona, to oppose the most opposed by those who most matter, to move towards that podium.
Didn’t that great communist and socialist writer, in Tamilnadu, in a matter of two years of shockingly saying “what the uncle Tom does is right”, get the Jain-call to the podium last year?
After all why else would Eliot say, that ticket to Stockholm is one’s ticket to ones own grave. After that one can rest in peace!
So, instead of debating and opposing him, in print or blogs, just wait for that Jain foundation’s call. That would end his progression!
Well, even that ever impatient, roughly elephant; left out of its group[hinDanagalida ontTi salaga], also said during his Jain-call year,
“Iddiddralli Jainaru paravaagilla. dAna dharma mADthAre!”
Anti-incumbency factor may turn the next government at the parliament to those, who can find this ‘cover’ story interesting, for its scope of use,misuse and abuse they can make of! and then …. that all awaited call!
Even now, the lady [un]luck , who can put her devine mark on the 2 Rupee coin, may push for a call!
Its all in the game.
[Yeah, there is that great surprise when our neighbour refused that dynamite money, saying it would be demeaning to be compared with Henry Kissinger who had made a Sweden trip earlier.]
What’s there in the name?
As per the traditions, some typical jobs, works, posts, and such would end up as the surnames along the generations. It’s a ubiquitously prevalent practice all over time and space. Now I have been mesmerized by two names, rather what has happened around them.
Kempu means red color in kannada. When used in names, to ease its contiguous pronunciation and conjunction with other parts, it would turn to kempe or kempa as in kempa-amma or kempe-rAya etc.
wruddi means development.
wrudda means developed or one with attainments and accomplishments.
grAma wrudda means some one who is well developed (rich) and prominent in the whole village.
During its etymological metamorphosis it turned out to be gAvuda and now gowda.
The most prominent with that name in the recent history, is Shree Kempe Gowda maharaja, the leader who is credited to have built the town, which eventually developed into today’s
70kms away, the name that was making rounds during those days in my school and our dinner-conversations was that of an exclusive shop, full of toys and dresses for kids. It never made any sense to me who spent quarter century waiting for those parcels of old discarded cloths from the affluent
Mysore relatives. But it’s name was interesting. It was named Kids Kemp.
Located in the road named after the king, the second part is derived from his name. It was a Kid’s shop on KempeGowda road, hence Kids Kemp.
More than a decade later, that shop opened a bigger branch on Airport road. But the name was Big kids Kemp. This was a very important step in proliferating the word Kemp out of Kempe Gowda road. It had started to signify, more of less, a niche shop. It had assumed a meaning of its own.
Recently I saw a make shift saari shop named Sri Lakshmi Saari Kemp, and another make shift niche shop selling 15 types of Dosas named Ganesh Dosa Kemp. The evolution was complete. Only entry into Webster’s is pending now!
All this happened in front of my own eyes, in a matter of two decades. Is this called Globalization?
The second case is more involved.
It is a tradition that has some living and many not so, examples.
In the earlier days, I mean before three thousand years or so, it was of great importance to maintain the fire, for its many utilities in the house. So, each day the men of the house, would take care of keeping a fire burning at some designated place non-stop. This ritual was called agni kArya, and those who did it religiously were called agnihOthri. This has even come down to present times in some families I know.
[Many of those families talk only in Sanskrit in their homes, making it difficult to discern the nuances of our reception. One day, when I visited one such family, their 3 year old kid was incessantly plucking my pen from my pocket, to play with it. I was in a fix; could not even reprimand the kid nor allow it to play with my pen, which could get damaged in its hands. Then intervening, its mother shouted “nA Karomi vatsA” , interestingly that naughty kid understood and went off, to play with his own toys.This brought to my mind a story by Gorur. In that story, during a ShrAddA in a similar Sanskrit speaking family, a kid was playing with a ball, which went into the ritual area. The head of the family became angry and wanted to shout in kannada MumDe ganDa , but had he uttered any non Sanskrit word his vow would be broken and he had to take bath and do other purifying rituals to cleanse him back from the loss of vAkShuddi. Then he shouts vidhavA pathi!!]
But that is fine if the name indicates their acts. Else too, if they take a liking to those acts once done by their fore fathers, ok, “to each his own.”
Don’t raise eyebrows about Rathi Agnihothri’s Cabarets!!
But there was a YagnyA, performed during Vedic times, and the most recent record of it I heard of, was in late 1800s. In that a very healthy, fully adult cow would be sacrificed. Since those rituals are very rare, for any one who accomplished them, following all their intricately specified rules and regulations, usually a title would be given to him bearing the name of that YagnyA. Since such accomplishments are rare it is a norm to carry such a title for generations too. Now there is a great cry to stop the cow slaughter by many people and there are congregations and movements in that accord. Even a political party with that as one of its manifesto came to power at the centre and established their leader as the prime minister of
The name of that YagnyA is VAjapEyA and one who does it is given the title VAjapEyi.
shAnthi shAnthi shAnthi-hi!!!
With kaveri tribunal’s verdict and city corporation giving water once in three days, the ritual of baths are solemnized by
gangecha yamunechaiva godavari saraswathi
narmade sindhu kaveri, amazon nile mississippi
With the battle field getting bloody between norton McCaffe and AVG, each would invite proliferation of virus along with the ever-spying software popularly called WindowsXP, before booting system [with internet connection]
Apa Dhuurthanthu ye bhootha, ye bhootha jaala samsthitha
ye bhootha viGhna karthaaraha, the nashyanthu shivaagnaya
After the boom of IT and ITES the anthropology of our academic times goes by
Aakashaath pathithan thoyam yathaagachchathi saagaram
sarvavidyaa arjanethi software prathigachchathi
With the computers becoming smarter, and people becoming intricately dependent on them, not just functionally……… well all of us becoming just clients of at the human ends for big servers.
So? the ever enchanting invocation of
Kshyisali shivethara kruthi kruthiyalli
moodali mangaLa mathi mathiyalli
kavi rushi santhara aadrarshadali
ad sari aadre… client-alli?
One guy lost his mother soon after his birth. He was encouraged to be a learned man, and was tutored a lot in philosophy, oriental mostly. This guy was mainly supported by his Grandpa who , a rich man, devoting all his resources to make him “wise” and may be enlightened. Suddenly his grandpa died (:-( . This guy lost direction, left college, went on shouting from as many podiums as he could, he went out of his mother organization shouting at its poster boy some horrible shit, got married blew up all his grandpa’s money, had three kids, moved out of family, got some other patron in a lonely European woman (what is it with these single western women? Do they think oriental guys as some hunky mysterious, and fascinating? ). Lived with her on her money; May be he wanted more!, so one day said , in the words of G-1, “Bulb hathkothu”= “I am enlightened”. He from then on revived his shouting, this time with lowered sound and greater malice. In small groups and staying amongst those who paid his bills. Finally he died.
Alas, the world has less audio noise for his demise, and much less malice and contempt in air.
There is a guy who, usually takes Hollywood stories, Pakistani music , casts non-superstar materials and churns out films, when he is not “selling his wounds”[in affective way] as he ran out of them due to his rate of blabber. This guy befriended that recently died guy, 3 decades ago, to come out of the clout of another “enlightened ” man. He seems addicted to the need to cling to one or the other. This late guy was a master in getting guys clinging to him[paying his bills!], by telling they are not.
The poster boy of his former mother organization was famous for “making his listener’s head empty” putting them in “pathless land”, while this guy was notorious for making the listeners’ “heads missing” , applying Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle to people, or some thing close to it, challenging the notion of their being!
The poster boy died of cancer, while the later due to spasms in his heart last month.
The senior undid all he did, went and apologized to those he had hurt, albeit after they died in front of their graves in secret, while the recently died one was master of saying self-contradictory things.
Both shared their given names. Both felt hopeless about the other, but related to essentially.
In my wandering years, my pathless manners got their stuff visited, and for those memories, here is an obituary.
Thank God, there is death!
Even for …
Mistaken by birth,
Messed up in Life,
Abducted by Salvation,
Rescued by DEATH.
Zindagi veeran banjar
jis se ut gayi basthiya
Zindagi Khola samundar
jis me DUbi kaStiyAn
Jisko kahtE ho Janam
Vo maut kI SuruvAt hi
Zindagi kya bAth hi
Zindagi kya bAth hi
The previous three posts looked to be out of blue, after the original post being deleted by U.R.Aananthamurthy at his Blog. Incidentally, I had a copy of it and I am posting it here to make my sequence of previous posts look thematically coherent.
It was titled
When wont is more than will
This is the response to your two posts , on K.V.Subbanna and K.P.P.Thejasvi.
It is true that, for years I had been argueing , that the creative impetus you gave to the whole social thought of our culture was very distinctly having an edge over others, due to your exposure. My favorite example for it has always been that an author who was the president of a Kannada Sahithya Sammelana, had said in his presidential speech, that he could not figure out any thing new to say, in his presidential address other than what has already been said by precedents, but just like to urge the establishment to take the ideas so expressed and impliment them.But when you presided on a later occasion you came up with the new message of samskruthika sandhikaladalli sanghrashavalla anusandhanada margavannu anusarisabeku.When thre was a dead end, you had an ideological sliverline…
But it is some event to now realize that it was originally an idea of Subbanna in your post! Then when you call him, who contemplates allow dalits to permit or not into the living room of his house after allowing them into the front yard now, as Bharathiya manassu, there are some serious issues popped up.I have no objection to your calling his as Barathiya manassu.
1.When a person is not either sure of the idea of castless humanity there are some ideological problems, about the credibility to their monism and other such phylosophical and literary stands.
2.When if he is contemplating with the actual impacts of personal kind, then it becomes more intersting. It seems the transition he has made gives him an ideological advantage only among those who cannot even allow dalits into front yard. So, he is sort of obstinately inhabiting that memetic scenario.Or is it that these scinarios being incubated for such derivable prudishness and advantages?
When the depth of insight of truth, cannot completely impart atleast an ideological clarity , not the full ACTual one, I start to doubt these ideologues if they are not the driving force but loads on the culture.
(The reason is in the last paragraph of this post)
Then when I heard the news of demise of Thejasvi, I did get impacted. But after the post recovery period, I realized it was time for an objective “coming to terms”, that was best. I have read for 10 hours all available obituaries and memoirs.
satt emme hathu seru halu karithittu annuva gojige hogadiddare…
What life and living , from which Kuvempu took inspiration, and found his literary vision, and DID the act of creating his literautre, Thejasvi WAS living it in his Mudugere life. But what his literary creations envision was sort of deconstructing his father’s doing.Not destroying but deconstructing it. There is no better, greater or different vision, but just a literary disability creating distinction. The excuse cited as avoiding the simplification of the complex life is too meek. The resolving and refining are confused with ignorance and abandon.
He is the only writer who has escaped the “Egoistic sublime”, is what you say in your “Betthale puje Eke Kudadu”. True, there is nothing sublime about his ego in his work.It is open, in-the-face and suffocating. When I read Karvalo, I was suffocated by the charecter based on himself,
1.Who has an intrinsic advantage over other due to his societal stature.
2. He is culturally advantaged with greater exposure than most, due to his city up bringing,
3. He mocks at the seriousness of the scientist driven by his purpose, where as his own pursuit is not seriously defining his life. So, he can afford to be careless about happenings, while mocking at the scientist’s urge.
4.He with his superiority complex mocks at the suffering of less fortunate rural people.(if one cant add any value then they must atleast not mock, move on to where one can do. Atleast the Lankesh’s piece of criticizm of Kuvempu appearing in the present ugadi visheshanka (of Gouri Lankesh’s Lankesh last motnth) calls it as “Moral choice”.)
5. When others around are engaged in the battles life and living, it becomes too vulgar to observe it with the distant of over-security of my-life-not-at-stake, as a food for novels. This literary position taken makes all the charecters around just a matter of disrespected entertainment, for the suthradhara.I always wonder similarly about Chekov and Leo Tolstoy too.Though Chekov is more humane, that atleast he goes through the suffering guilt, Leo is an outright escapist, but neither is of much value addition.
6. When I raised such cognitions earlier, I was discarded by some trying to attribute it to “some esoteric indiviualistic style” of naration by Tejasvi. But co-incidentally, his Annana Nenapu, came as the final and sufficient proof of my observation’s correctness. How much of Anna(Kuvempu) is there in it, and in what way… gives the complete statement of justification of my stand.
7. He is only because of his circumstances. And not even that justifyably.He inherited the legacy of a great literary meme, which he lavishly used for his personal entertainment only. But for the lack of respect to life and living, the literature he coughed aloud, need not have been so self indulging, without being self-involving and tragic.
8. Calling his amazement , vismaya, which you call as his literature’s sthayi bhava, is OK.But how it failed to become a spirit of enquiry than just an urge for personal entertainment is the story of literary tragidy.Where there is no clarity of knowledge, at the frontier of know hows, if one cognizes mysticism and imparts a sense of wonder filled perception, it can be understood. But where there is no explicite confusion, if one tries to creat for the sake of sensationalization, and filles a sense of wonder, “vismaya”, then it is an insult, both of subject, and that of reader. This is what he has done for science in Karvalo, and many socio-political movements in other works.But for such snobbishness , the inherited literary meme could have been used for some thing for more positive.
9.How he refused to answer if there was a haruva othi or not not in reality, makes his novel a vulgar page turner only to decieve the seriousness of the reader with absolute disrespect. The escapism, for the reader’s attention being insulted, is nearly as bad as that by Leo Tolstoy in many of his short stories.
10. May be , what Kuvempu had got out of those rual life, to create an empire of literature, Tejasvi inherited it , only to deconstruct it and to spend its benifits upon his amusements amongst those rural ambience.Sort of Kereya neranu kerege challi…..
This whole response, analysis, is an offshoot of one singular comment, which I carry with me. That was made during the function celebrating the works of Master Hirannayya, some years ago. That coment goes as below.
“Charlie Chaplin made The dictator. Thus made fun of Hitler.But had he not done that, we would have been able to hate the ills of dictatorship with more vitality and seriousness.
(I found a resonance of my belief in Bharatha Muni’s statement that Shrungara Kettaga Haasya aagutthe).”
As usual , while teaching our whole generation to think, visualize and verbalize , you had made a seminal contribution to the collective cognizance, when you said that.
But to keep that tradition alive it becomes my moral responsibility to imbibe it , and indina sandarbhadalli nammanne inthaha manthanakke oddikulluva anivaryatheya tatvanishte
urges me to raise these unvoiced dhvanis.
Sathyam Shivam Sundaram