A Year Remembered

One more page in the book of my life, the page of 2011, is being turned over. It has been a year of mixed feelings. If I say it was a page all written in golden letters I would be fooling myself. The page had a lot of black patches too. The page, as it turns by, takes me through a summary of what I learnt.

The learnings I have had have been tremendous and I believe the creator made this year or at least waited all these years to give me a learning of a life time. As per mythology Arjuna learnt so many things from The Lord in a very crucial part of his life. So I am sure HE has destined me to learn all what I learnt in the 2011 chapter this year only. Many have come in this life of mine and many have left.  The ones who came to stay are with me supporting me through thick and thin and the ones who decided to leave me and go have surely left a deep imprint on my life and gone. As it is said, life moves on and I still feel all this will bring the better out of me.

This post is a thanksgiving to my parents, my sister, my brother in law, aunts, uncles, cousins, colleagues and above all my good dear friends who stood by me through thick and thin telling me and mentoring me in the best and the right direction.  I know the learning of 2011 will be taken with me to the later parts of my life.

The best learning I got this year was that not everything which glitters is gold. Though we learnt it long long ago, we never get it to seep down in us and we tend to believe that calm waters are safe but, calm waters can also be very rough below.  People who have been known for years seem to fade away by character and you really feel that it’s your fault but later on in your solitude you realize that they were always that way and we only saw the better of them, thanks to the good in us.

Another important learning I had this year was not to take anything and everything as it comes. Check it and if it doesn’t match you and if it is unbecoming throw it back at the people who flung it at you. I am a person who does not react much, chip of the old block my Dad. But this year has taught me that where a word has to rule a word rules and where silence speaks volumes silence speaks it all.

My dear friends it’s been a pleasure and a great time we had together this year called 2011. Let’s all join together to welcome 2012. May all our hopes, aspirations and dreams be fulfilled. May the poor and the rich, the unhealthy and the healthy, the down trodden, the animals and all of us have a very beautiful 2012 which brings love, joy and peace to the world and to mankind.

Tribute to Our Culture

A year has passed since I went to the temple festival in my hometown, Kannur in Kerala. The festival happens every year on the last weekend. The temple is called Poothatta Tharavad Kavu. This happens to be my paternal great grandfather’s Tharavad (Ancestral House.) The basic art form performed in the Kavu (Temple) is called as Theyyam or Theyyattam.

Theyyam is a Hindu folk dance ritual of worship exclusive to Northern Malabar region, i.e., Kannur, Kasargod, Kozhikode (formerly Calicut), and Wynad belts. People in the olden times believed that any obstacle that nature brought in front of them was caused by a certain power, which human intelligence could not comprehend. Thus, man started idolizing the various entities in nature like wind, air, water and so on. One person among the group was made to empower himself with these unseen powers and was considered to be a form of God.  The word Theyyam is derived the Sanskrit word Daivam which means God. The origin of this ritual is unknown or rather it is better to say that there is no one theory that explains the birth of Theyyam. 

The ritual dance is exclusively performed by male members of certain caste communities namely Vannan, Malayan, Velan, Mavilan, Pulayan and Koppalan. Most of these communities are indigenous tribes of Kerala and this tradition of folk dance has been kept alive by them. During the Theyyam season (which spans from November till April), these dancers transcend into Gods. They paint themselves with sandalwood paste, turmeric paste, red sandalwood paste and wear very large crowns all with prominence to red.

Each Theyyam has a character of his own and they bless the members who go to meet them. At our Tharavad Kavu we had Theyyams by the name of Karanavar Theyyam, Gulikan Theyyam, Wayanad Kulavan Theyyam, Bhagavathy Theyyam, Vellattom Theyyam, etc. to mention a few. I was asked to meet the Wayanad Kulavan Theyyam and he looked into my eyes and began telling me about things which were in my mind. I was standing in front of him with all due respect and he tells me “you told someone what’s the point of praying because God does not heed to all what we plead to him.” My eyes widened in surprise. A few weeks ago I was telling my flat mate the same thing. I said a big NO to him but he held on to it. I don’t know how he knew it. Men and women who came there, some of them were seen crying and he was consoling them too.

It is indeed a worth watch. Leave alone the religious aspect of it, but the general dress up and the vigor of the dance and the traditions followed are unique in all respects. Forgot to tell you these Theyyams usually drink the local toddy tapped from coconut trees. That is the offering there.  For anyone who really wants to come to see this, January to April of every year is the best time to do this.

Some Information taken from the Wikipedia Link on Google.

Picture of Wayanad Kulavan Theyyam 

Re-living the Past

I was in my home town Kannur in Kerala. I went to a town called Telecherry to visit my Grand Mom’s sister. She is 89. It was the death anniversary of her husband and the whole family had come together. I drove into the approach and as I did, I found myself driving into the nostalgic past. The childhood which we enjoyed, the mangoes we had thrown stones at, the fishes we used to catch, the adventure cycling we used to do and so many things came running back into my mind. 

I remember us going to stay in this aunt’s house. Uncle used to build tree houses for us and we used to play in those tree houses all day. I remember us planning to stay all night in these houses but the minute the sun sets the fear in us jumped out. Food being served to us there and the whole day going on with fun. Standing under that very mango tree, I felt like I was 12 again, playing there in mud, going fishing and having a whole lot of fun. 

I spoke to one of my uncles and he too had the same things to say. He was talking of the past with a lot more deep feelings.  The whole family was talking about the beautiful times they had together. The pranks they played on each other, the fights they had and how they made up. It was awesome!!! My Sunday was a fun day and as always, being home is a pleasure.  I just sometimes wish that those days come back again with all the beauty of its past.

The legacy from the past is what takes us long in life.   We had enjoyed the best in life and I just do hope that we give all what we got from our past to the present generation. We are we only because of what we got from the past.

Looking Back in Life

I have seen my father take great pains for the family. He has put his hard earned money and directed great efforts to see that his nephews and nieces, abandoned by their parents, were looked after well and made to become good people in life. It was sacrifice to the fullest which did involve the sacrifice of the interest of his wife and kids. More important to him were these other kids, his nephews and nieces, who had no parental care and support financially. He did not want them to become drivers or load bearers on the street. Today, thanks to his efforts, they stand upright in very important roles, and sadly, for them, associating with the one person who made their life worthwhile seems to be a bother and burden of gratitude..  Is it natural that we forget the past? Is it natural that we become so blinded by the insanity around? And, do we allow unworthy worms that are incapable to decide what is important in life?

I don’t know what is important today. But I am sure of one thing, that a good parentage is a legacy you hold for a lifetime. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if people tell you that you have the vocabulary of a thirteen year old or that you are only worth selling vegetables in the rural market, but what really matters is that it is important to be a good human being, a human being who understands another human being and a human being who doesn’t forego his or her values to the society which constantly prompts him or her to do so.  You may have a degree from a prestigious institute, a doctorate in the best subject, and a whole lot of frills and additions, but if you are not brought up in a family where love, ethics, care  and harmony are taught I think all the other laurels in life get washed away forever.

This post is a reminder to all of us who have reached places in life to look back and thank all those people who made a change in our lives. It is important not to be ungrateful beings, which even animals aren’t. It is important to preserve our great lineage and prove that we have been brought up by wonderful people not wretched devils. Let us remember that our treatment of another reflects our upbringing and lineage. 

Tribute to a Teacher - My Blog Begins...

Teachers are a gift of a lifetime. They make us what we are today… I would like to begin blogging by a tribute to my teacher. I owe a lot to her for what I am today.

Back to my class 11 year 1996. An average student I must say, coming to a CBSE School from the state syllabus, with all the qualities of being a nut. The CBSE School was a cultural shock. Everyone was fast and   the only thing I was fast was with my chattering.  Being a Commerce guy I needed to be taking accounts sessions which was a hard spot. Even today let me confess, I go berserk with all numbers other than mobile numbers. So here comes in a very strict teacher into the class who was to instruct us accounts. Not joking friends she was a terror. We used to pray for her to be on leave. The minute she enters the class breaths go up and as she exits we all come back to normal. In the course of time my slowness got noticed and I had a privilege to sit on the teacher’s desk during her hours. It was stressful and the punishments were also bad. I used to think that Ma’am had some ill feeling towards me. Ok I thought.

It so happens that I sing, not very well but yes a bit. I got selected in the western music team for the year. School became enjoyable. Music was taking a lot of time. Michael Jackson’s Heal the world was in full swing practice for a month.  We decided the clothes to wear, the material selected and at one point a teacher comes in and changes the entire team structure and three of us saw us out of the team. At age 15 I don’t think I would have gone disheartened so much. My family was very very supportive. It was all through and I was cool.

The competition day came in. my dad and mom stood by me. I went to school on a cold Saturday morning in mid December. I could not function but I remember the words my dad said, "Son, this is just a small battle. Win it and you will grow." School was all usual tough Naveen was so unusual. As the schedule the accounts class came and we had a two hour schedule. Ma’m walked in and I walked to my special seat. She gave us some accounting problems and all of us were at work. I am not exaggerating I just wrote the date and sat on my seat. Ma’am came once saw my book no response. The second time also she came not a word, again a third, nothing happened. At this point one of my classmates who went for the programme came back and said they got the first prize. My eyes watered but I did not burst out. The so called strict, cruel teacher walked up to my desk and held me on my shoulder and patted me. I felt the love, the genuineness and care of a teacher flow in through the same hands she used to hit me. I changed. I changed from the slow, poor student category to one of the good students in class. From then I had had no looking back.

The word teacher if mis-spelt becomes a cheater. Even after 15 years of leaving school I still meet my mother at school my dear Teacher Ms Rajini Anoop. She is a true asset I earned over my years of being a student.