Three legged bird

Paul (not the Disciple), the soothsayer Octopus dropped the ball of the mighty Germans in their own net. The Germans lost 1-0 to the under-dogs Spain, true to the Paul prophecy. The majority of angry Germans now wants to make a salad of ‘Paul’ or to fry him or to put him to sharks. I suggest let them put Paul to the gas chamber which they are good at as they have done to the Jews during WW-II.

I recollect a folktale about a Paul in Kerala

Pyilee (a malayaleised version of Paul) was an Egg trader.

Once Pyilee was on a local train to Ernakulam with baskets of eggs to be sold in the Ernakulam market. Pyilee’s co-traveller was Prof Thomas, a well learned professor of so many sciences. The local train rolling on its parallels was on its way to Ernakulam occasionally bugling and coughing smoke.

Nothing else to do, Pyilee engrossed in counting profits of his day’s trade folding and unfolding his five fingers & knuckling them in between. Pyilee then noticed the handsome professor lost in deep thoughts. Pyilee was hurt for he thought that the professor was bored and really needs a joyful company to ride through. Pyilee, therefore, volunteered him a helping hand …..…“ Sar Engotta ” ( Where are you going, Sir?)

The professor, though not liked the countryman’s anxiety, murmured –‘Ernakulam’’
After some more time the simple Pyilee put another step to proceed the diologue…

Sare… Ernakulam is well two hours away… so why don’t we engage in some talks to pass time…

Smirking on the country-man’s advance Professor sarcastically put across “ “Thanickenthariam… Eee Lokathile” (What on earth you know about ?) chuckling and whispering “ other than the eggs”

You are right Sir, agreed the illiterate Pyilee… I am an egg-seller least literate… but yet we shall give a try” .

Time passed by.. but the tireless Pyilee did not give up.. So he offered the learnt Professor a way to pass time. He invited the Professor for a ‘Quiz’ session. The amused professor submitted to Pyilee with a condition that for any question un-answered by either, the loser will give the quizzer 100 rupees. Pyilee, pleaded for a 50% discount in his case as he was the poorer of the two The Scholar professor agreed to Pyilee’s condition and offered him to kick the first ball.

Sari Sare, Pyilee, after some meditation, kicked the first ball..

“ Bhoomiyile Ethu Pakshickanu Moonnu kalullathu’? ( Name the bird on Earth that has three legs)..

The sceptic professor chuckled, then decided to give a try to prove the idiot wrong. His scholastic medulla oblangetta browsed through various branches of zoology… but could not locate a creature with three legs, leave alone a bird with three legs.

He pulled out a crispy 100 rupee note and flashed it to Pyilee and challenged him to name that wonder bird.

Pyilee briskly put the crispy currency in his purse and pulled out a muddy old 50 rupee note and respectfully placed before the Professor and said, Sir, I surrender….

“Enickum Angine Oru Pakshiye Ariyilla Sare…” .(I too do not know such a bird on earth…)

Sacred heart ripped out

The recent trip to Kerala, I had a prioritised mission. I wanted to watch the ‘Good Friday’ celeberations of Kudamaloor church. I had last participated the programme in 1971, the year I left for Delhi. After that, though I wanted, I could not make it. This time, I had planned my Kerala trip to suit the good Friday. I must confess, the enthusiasm with which I wanted to visit my hometown, especially the key institution of the village, Kudamaloor Church, famous for it’s Good Friday programmes as also for being the birth place(parish) of Saint Alphonsa, could not sustain for long. The Kudamaloor St.Mary’s church was believed to have been built 900 years ago by the then king of the province, Chempakassery Raja. With so many wonderful architectural marvels, the old church in it’s present form might have been built not less than 400 years ago. The icon of the church was the beautiful painting of The Lady with baby Jesus with Kings, placed in the centre of the Alter of the main hall in a huge glass frame meticulously placed to fit in the painting. The church also has stone carvings inscribing some historical tit bits written in a Malayalam script, which the present generation could hardly understand. The stones were placed as floor marbles. With wide huge stone walls, the church hardly needed any cooling. In my last to last visit I had noticed that the floor has been done up with new ‘Rajasthan marbles’ probably to make it look modern. The carved stones were plucked and placed along the wall, as if to make it to speak it’s own age and ethnicity. I feel it would have been beautiful if it had remained where it was already laid. This time, what pained me most was the scene of the Altar of the old church. Empty, vacant, as if the ‘heart’ has ripped out. My church, Which I wanted to visit again and again, stand like a skeleton of the old church.
I saw the most famous painting of the ‘Mukti Amma’ is now framed and placed in front of the new church.
Next time, I may see a green patch in place of the old marvel. My heart weeps.

Sacred heart ripped out

The recent trip to Kerala, I had a prioritised mission. I wanted to watch the ‘Good Friday’ celeberations of Kudamaloor church. I had last participated the programme in 1971, the year I left for Delhi. After that, though I wanted, I could not make it. This time, I had planned my Kerala trip to suit the good Friday. I must confess, the enthusiasm with which I wanted to visit my hometown, especially the key institution of the village, Kudamaloor Church, famous for it’s Good Friday programmes as also for being the birth place(parish) of Saint Alphonsa, could not sustain for long. The Kudamaloor St.Mary’s church was believed to have been built 900 years ago by the then king of the province, Chempakassery Raja. With so many wonderful architectural marvels, the old church in it’s present form might have been built not less than 400 years ago. The icon of the church was the beautiful painting of The Lady with baby Jesus with Kings, placed in the centre of the Alter of the main hall in a huge glass frame meticulously placed to fit in the painting. The church also has stone carvings inscribing some historical tit bits written in a Malayalam script, which the present generation could hardly understand. The stones were placed as floor marbles. With wide huge stone walls, the church hardly needed any cooling. In my last to last visit I had noticed that the floor has been done up with new ‘Rajasthan marbles’ probably to make it look modern. The carved stones were plucked and placed along the wall, as if to make it to speak it’s own age and ethnicity. I feel it would have been beautiful if it had remained where it was already laid. This time, what pained me most was the scene of the Altar of the old church. Empty, vacant, as if the ‘heart’ has ripped out. My church, Which I wanted to visit again and again, stand like a skeleton of the old church.
I saw the most famous painting of the ‘Mukti Amma’ is now framed and placed in front of the new church.
Next time, I may see a green patch in place of the old marvel. My heart weeps.

Richeness means.....

Today, there was a picture of Anil Ambani with marigold flower garland around his neck, standing in front of Tirupati temple, in the front pages of some popular English dailies. Similar pictures were seen of Mukesh, Amitabh Bachan, Abhishek Bachan and A few such newsworthy souls of India. I am sure, they all were there to please the deity who, they believe, will shower them with blessings (of course wealth in billions), for their offer of a few lakhs. Rich Indians, no matter their religion, offer hefty sums to deities of their choice.

A few days back, there was a picture of Mr. Gate who with his extra bills(wealth),(which keep swelling every moment), busy shaking hands with kids in a remote Indian village, for whose, health, education, up-liftment, he spare his extra wealth. His wife also join him in this act of worship.

It was a very hot day of the month of May, I had taken a coke, and a bottle of mineral water to keep me cool. Put together it costed me 35 Rs., not bad, so hot, I have seldom felt this heat in Delhi. I had taken a Blue line bus to Dilshad Garden, almost 18 kms from ITO. It costed 15 Rs. But the journey was horrible. Heat wave from the side windows with glass panes missing. Crowd inside. I was lucky to get a seat. I decided no more Blue line ( I had made this resolution a few times before also.). Alighting at Seemapuri, I called a Rikshaw. Checked his charge for Shalimar Garden (2 kilo meters). Alas ! Cheater wants 20 Rs for that much distance. Cheater, I could barely resist my anger to this opportunist, leach… and whatever came to mind and boarded. He pedelled the distance, sweating, wiping his forehead, again peddling finally reaching my destination. I paid him and walked off. Hardly will I remember this guy who brought me home at a cost of course, at 2 p.m noon on a day considered to be one of the hottest of the season.
Reaching home, I recalled, if the rikshaw was not available at the place, I would be walking the two kms, might have consumed another bottle of cola, yet got exhausted, might also have the heat wave on me and jolly well could have fallen ill for a few days. I have paid Rs 20/- to the service that man – most probably from Bihar – whose face I would hardly recollect. Why only rikshaw even that Blue line was doing a service. That time of the day, DTC do not operate for reasons ranging from lunch break to change of duties. Even if there is one, it will skip you and speed away.

Believer's agony

So many Godmen make news for wrong reasons these days (thanks to Media) women abuse, child abuse, and in many other abusive activities. Such questionable characters amass wealth and fame. All these men and many before with such profile are leading luxurious life with followers flowing in from all over the globe. The saddest part is that the very promoters of these characters of darkness are the so called elite, educated and well informed people.

There is a sect of believers who engage their energy and time in sending chain mails to people with scary tales of calamities. These fanatics take up the case of some concrete structure survived in a devastating calamity and say “the Cross survives the Haiiti devastation”; “the statue at Velankanni has stood intact amongst the debris of tsunami” etc. and warn the reader that only the cross & statue survives, while the people die. So be a believer and send the mail to twelve believers. The irony is, the one who shed blood and gave his body to save the world, was busy in safeguarding his properties when his children were dying and getting perished all around.
I think these followers of Godmen and self promoters of God need to be told the fact that no Godman can guarantee immortality . No God will be glorified if He looks after his own concrete structure of cross and statue and let his folks die and their homes get shattered

Kerala Pride

The admirably handsome former Minister of State Shashi Taroor, who, despite being born and lived outside Kerala, stand for an applause from the proud Malayalees, for holding his head high for Kerala.

The fact that the who is who from Kerala, in spite of holding very powerful ministerial positions in the cabinet could not make a niche worth noticeable for the state and its people, therefore, are the strongest adversaries (jealousy – what else) of the globally acclaimed writer – diplomat who got backing from none other than Kofi Annan for his bold stand. Shashi Tharoor has actually stepped in the shoes of V.K. Krishna Menon, gem of a Malayalee reined in Delhi’s power corridor, notwithstanding the contribution of late Shri K R Narayanan. I have a list of prominent Malayalees in Delhi on top of which is Mr. Prakash Karat, who sails another boat.

Having said this, I do not endorse the controversy, Mr. Tharoor got embroiled in —it was un-matching of his stature — although he made this move for his love for Kerala and the youth of the state in mind. Any how different people think differently. I join (rather intrude) the mass of young Malayalees all over the world in extending an unconditional support to Mr. Shashi Tharoor. In his exit speech as a Minister He quoted Vallathol’s famous lines.

“Bharatham ennu kettal abhimana puritham akanam antharangam, Keralam ennu kettalo thilackanam chora namukku njarampukalil.”

(One should be proud of a mere mention of Bharatam but on hearing the name of Keralam, blood should simmer through the veins)

Let’s join him !
Jai India !
Jai Kerala !