Karma Is Not A Bitch, It’s More Like A…

Sanmargam

From Naaladiyar inOld Tamil Poetry:

பல் ஆவுள் உய்த்துவிடினும், குழக் கன்று
வல்லது ஆம், தாய் நாடிக் கோடலை; தொல்லைப்
பழவினையும் அன்ன தகைத்தே, தற் செய்த
கிழவனை நாடிக் கொளற்கு.

One cannot escape the consequences of his action. Wherever he hides, his bad karma will catch up with him. Like a calf that is let loose among a herd of cows. Though there is a herd of many cows, the calf will zero in on its mother easily. Likewise bad karma will find and attach itself to the man responsible for it.

TheNāladiyār(Tamil:நாலடியார்) is aTamilpoetic work ofdidacticnature, next only to Thirukkural, composed by Jain monks, belonging to thePatiṉeṇkīḻkaṇakkuanthology ofTamil literature. This belongs to the postSangamperiod corresponding to between 100 – 500 CE.Nāladiyārcontains 400 poems, each containing four lines. Every poem deals with morals and ethics, extolling righteous…

View original post 2 more words

Advertisements

A Rare Trait!

 

vide: Elango Velur Thiruturaipoondi  ‎சிரிக்க, சிந்திக்க”

 

47354907_1946119612356487_3667387649666056192_n

 

Amidst the many around us that understand us wrong when we speak right,

Google is one that understands right even when we speak wrong!!

 

End

Phoenix

If you haven’t read/seen this short story before, it’s worth watching this clip (7+ minutes). It’s in Tamizh, unfortunately, without subtitles. Not to worry – the commentary below should help you follow what’s going on.

After a patchy start the story moves to a man out on some chore chancing on a note stuck to a lamp-post on a busy road.

The note says ‘I’m weak of sight. Have lost a fifty rupee note somewhere here and can’t find it. If you spot it, I would be grateful if you could kindly bring it to this address…’

The man changes his hundred rupee note into two fifties at a shop and heads for the address given.

Winding thru narrow lanes lined with hut-like houses, finally he reaches the address given, beyond all those houses, to find an old lady in thick glasses squatting on the ground outside her shanty, seriously entreating her dog (a stray) to leave her side and go to find some food for himself. She even mentions about some idli’s she has saved for him.

He says he found the note and has come to give it to her. It is like she was expecting him!

After solicitously inquiring why he troubled himself walking all the way over sand and rubble to reach her, she says some twenty to twenty five people had similarly come before him giving her the money when in fact she had not lost any. All because, she learned, someone has posted a note on a post wrongly stating she had lost money. Despite requesting them to tear off the note, no one has yet. What would she do with all that money – she has no use for it. Would he at least oblige her?

She refuses to take the money from him. He forces it on her on the promise he would remove the note.

On his way back, he’s accosted by another man asking for directions to the same address!

What happens thereafter?

Watch this short clip. Visuals are good enough to follow it to its end that takes one by surprise!

 

Though it suffers from needless fillers included at places, the video succeeds in holding one’s interest till the end. .

 

End

 

 

 

Source: FB (Gopalakrishna Sunderrajan, if I recall right)

The Story Of An Embarrassed Elephant

Have you ever seen an elephant embarassed to the pink?

Well, we find a story about one in Kalithogai (an anthology of poems, part of Sangam literature spanning from c. 300 BCE to 300 CE)!! Yes, you read it right, that’s some two thousand years ago.

Here it is:

கொடுவரி தாக்கி வென்ற வருத்தமொடு
நெடு வரை மருங்கின் துஞ்சும் யானை,
நனவில் தான் செய்தது மனத்தது ஆகலின்,
கனவில் கண்டு, கதுமென வெரீஇ,
புதுவதாக மலர்ந்த வேங்கையை
அது என உணர்ந்து, அதன் அணி நலம் முருக்கி,
பேணா முன்பின் தன் சினம் தணிந்து, அம் மரம்
காணும் பொழுதின் நோக்கல் செல்லாது,
நாணி இறைஞ்சும் நல் மலை நல் நாட!

Corbett National Park

Translation (not strictly word by word):

It was a do-or-die fight between the two arch enemies: the elephant and the tiger.

As the vanquished tiger made good its escape,

the elephant rested at a place on the slopes of the high mountain range

and quickly fell asleep, thoroughly exhausted.

The onslaught, however, continued as fiercely as ever, this time in its slumber.

In the process, the freshly blooming vaengai tree (nearby) took a beating of its life.

Finally, fully awake and anger abated, the elephant saw it was not the tiger it had thrashed.

It walked away feeling too embarrassed to look at the poor tree!


 

I wonder what made the poet think this one up. Did he see an encounter first-hand or hear about it from others? A flight of fanciful imagination poets are given to?  Is it an allegorical riddle wherein he is alluding to some incident and persons? Mocking at his king for some sorry misadventure? Or, merely a piece of subtle humor at the expense of a man returning home late, senselessly drunk, beating his wife and waking up next morning to monumental shame and remorse?

Luckily the intrigue endures till this date, feeding our speculative imagination endlessly. Like, of much more recent vintage, the enigmatic gaze of the lady in Louvre.

 

End

 

 

Source: Thanks to Bala of Tamizh Amudham (facebook.com/profile.php?id=100024567173978) for his post. Image from Jim Corbett National Park

Bared Essentials

Medical Insurance, it’s said, is like a hospital gown.

Neeta Kumar in FFu

We think we’re covered fully 😦

End

 

This Too Shall Pass (Short Story)

Based on a mushy story in Tamizh making rounds in WhatsApp, running its course quite predictably, here’s my effort, muddying up the waters a wee bit along the way:

Oratechsolve old_people_India

‘Last month itself I had warned you when you sent hundred rupees. Now this letter. This will not end here, I’m telling you again. Once it’s falling roof, this time it’s hospital charges…who knows your dear sister may be behind all this.’

She paused to regain her breath.

‘Don’t forget we have two children of our own growing up. There’s fees to pay once the school reopens, new uniforms…’

‘All right, all right. I’ll write to them. Will you please stop now?’

‘Please do that first thing…One thing you do well is to shut my mouth.’

Silence.

It became the lot of utensils in kitchen sink to bear the brunt.

Normalcy returned over next couple of days helped by the week-end outing with the children – it was the last before the close of summer vacation.

A week later, one evening when he returned from his office,

It was all quiet in the house. The children were heads-down into their books – quite unusual so early in their term. No usual greetings and hugs. He could see through the open door her feet on the bed.   It wasn’t time yet. At the end of a long day he was in no rush to find reasons for the calm. He peeled off his pants and shirt to wear a comfortable dhoti and banyan. There was no coffee on the table. So be it. As he looked around for morning newspaper before settling down in his easy-chair, his gaze fell up on an opened envelope sticking out from under a magazine on the table, quite unsuccessful in its attempt to be elsewhere aided by the draft of the ceiling fan.

As he picked it up, he knew it was his mother. It was always so ever since his father’s fingers had turned stiff some years ago. Schooled up to sixth grade before going off to her in-laws’ house, she could write though not tidily.

He sat on the straight-backed chair never designed to suffer its occupant for long, and read:

Dear Son,

We’re sorry and concerned to hear about the sickness of our dear grandson. The young lad still has a long way to go. Tell bahu (daughter-in-law) to give him lots of vegetables and fruits and milk…of course she knows.

Don’t spare any expense in getting him treated. Along with this letter there’s a check for five thousand rupees. Hope it helps. If you need more let us know.

Do not worry yourself, this money is legit. You know we had this small patch of land at the back of our house, the one we had willed to you? Luckily for us, we could sell it at short notice to be able to send you this check and keep some for treating your father. Our neighbor had his eyes on this land for long. He was good enough to pay all of ten thousand readily across the table.

Your father was very much against it. He doesn’t understand. You needed the money right now and we needed it too. He maintained it was worth many times more – it could even fetch as much as a couple of lakhs, if we wait a little longer. But, how could we? You sounded so helpless. Of course, he could be right – these days freehold land prices are suddenly shooting up unbelievably.  He says our neighbor unfairly knocked us down for a pittance knowing our urgency.  I had to press on him very hard to go ahead with the deal. Last couple of days, he isn’t even talking to me. Don’t worry, he’ll come around. I hope you too don’t think I’ve erred.

And don’t lose sleep over his health. Now we have the money to pay the doctors.

Once again, take good care of the child. We’re sure you’ll. Do keep us informed. And tell us if you need more, we’ll manage.

Yours affly,

Amma.

The letter slipped gently onto the floor from where it took off to the far corner, greatly relieved, its job done.

Feeling like a loser, though he wasn’t sure what was it about, he got up to make some coffee for himself. He needed it.

He’ll come around.

 

End        

 

 

 

Image: oratechsolve.com