Bunty

I knew him as Ramachandran. Alladi Ramachandran Iyer!

I met him when I was working in CIFTech Solutions which was selling hospital management software.

He was the Chartered Accountant for the company.

Slowly I came to get acquainted with him. He took his time to be friendly with me. May be he was studying me. He must have felt after time that I am a harmless person!

He was a great fun to talk to. The puns of his were so good that I used to call him ‘pun’dit!

My days were so good when we were working together in CIFTech. The way he was giving twists to the words, wow! Unbelievable!

He was well versed in Kannada, Telugu, Tamil as well.

He was once talking about Wockhardt Hospital which is a heart hospital in Bangalore.  He was making a statement like this : unDEdhe okka heartu.. be careful! Meaning we have only one heart, so, be careful! The name Wockhardt had given him this chance of making pun.

One more time I was almost sure that he is reading my mind. I was making an article about some subject.. (now I have forgotten what was the subject). I was struggling from the morning and finally thought it’s enough for now and wrote at the end of the Word file ... so far so good...

I closed the computer and Ramachandran walked in from outside. I told about the article. He quipped “so, so far so good?” I was stunned.

I travelled with him to Andhra Pradesh many times – the border cities like Anantapur, Kadapa and even the capital city of Hyderabad.

I came to know that he is not married and he is diabetic. He was 1958 born, which makes him 8 months younger to me.

I went to his house many times and met his parents. We were all (yes, his parents, himself and I) eager crossword puzzle solvers. They were experts and I an incumbent. Any time I had a doubt about filling any box, I used to call him. Either himself, or one of his parents were helping me!

He used to pick up some Sundays to come to my home. His route was via Vidyarthi Bhavan in Gandhi Bazar. He was buying 12 Masala Dosas for which we five (I, Usha – my wife, my 2 kids and my mother and himself) were the eaters!

My kids used to say “oh, Masala dosa uncle!” those days.

Usha used to prepare some delicacies. We used to eat together, spend some time together.  Great time we had!

His family had come once home. I had taken by family to his house.

I had given my absurd novel ‘Gaathe’ to his aunt to read. I believe she was talking utter nonsense for a week after completing the novel!

Out of the blue, a few months ago he called one day and said that his mother passed away. I felt very bad.

More recently he called me and asked for some Kannada books for one of his aunts (no, not the one I mentioned above. She has passed away). I told that I will come at least in the pretext of giving the books.

I went his home on 12^th May 2012. He was on the bed, looking quite bad. But he was the usual cheery person. His sister, he and his father sat in front of me and we had a good chat. It was as if there was no gap between my earlier visit and today!

He remembered his aunt being little out of sync when she finished my novel Gaathe. Incidentally my Gaathe had been reprinted and I carried a copy of that to give to him.

Today morning Usha calls me and says that she got the news that Ramachandran alias Bunty is no more.

I have no words to express my grief L

Thought of the day eleven

If we realize that wars are born in the minds of men, we would make greater efforts for peace of mind

Let us think about the pre independent India even before British invasion. There were so many small States/Kingdoms. Each one had a King and a few hundred populations. Out of the lot there were soldiers. When a King wanted to acquire the neighborhood kingdom, he used to wage a war by attacking the kingdom. This was resulting in lots of deaths and wounds. What was being achieved? The king one used to be king of the neighborhood kingdom too. Was it worth it? No one would dare to reply this question since the damage is done. King one was ruling the other kingdom too.

Just because the king one had an idea that he should acquire the other kingdom the battle took place ending up in deaths, sorrows, losses to the families of the warriors on both sides. Was it worth?

Those were the days when people used to be bloodthirsty. They thought that their life achieved their goal by winning the battle. What they lost in the bargain was not being thought. The peace of the land is lost, peace of mind is gone.

There were some kings who took a bold step to avoid battles. They used to stop the war at the cost of their children’s happiness. Whether their son/daughter liked it or not, the kings ensured the neighborhood king’s daughter/son is married to their children. The kids might not have peace of mind; but looking at the larger perspective this method worked for some.

In Ramayan, Ravan wanted to have Sita for himself. The possessiveness led to the death of thousands of warriors. Both the demons and monkeys lost their dear lives, making their family drown in sorrow for the rest of their lives.

In Mahabharat, Duryodhan became the cause for slaying of 18 akhouhiNi army consisting of people, elephants and horses.

The internal fight of Yadavas ended up in making thousands of women widows and thousands of children orphans.

The legacy is continuing even today. We have seen how neighbors fight, infiltrate to the enemy country and topple the tower of peace.

The terrorists are of another extreme. They use some stupid reason to destroy buildings, planes and in the bargain even people. The bereaved will be left to grieve.

The repercussion of a death of an earning member of the family ends up in searching for the livelihood. The hunger leads to fights, murders and loss of peace of mind.

Are these necessary? Can’t we live peacefully in harmony?

The people who think of war should be banished from the house, city and even country. The example of Yugoslavia ending up in three pieces can be thought of. The new border lines would leave the people in confusion. When someone crosses the line to meet his/her relative in the other part of the same country, it is not guaranteed that he reaches the other place alive.

So sad state of affairs..

Peace of mind is the state which everyone is eager to achieve, but do not give even a small try. It is not a commodity which you can buy from the market. The money can buy you facilities, equipment, even health (say a kidney or liver transplant) but peace of mind...never!

The same thing has to be achieved by us with a good amount of effort. We should think of having peace, put the required efforts and work towards achieving the same.

Looks easy... but will it happen that easily?

We should try and check!

Thought for the day ten

Remember that you are very special. NO ONE else can play your role better than you

This should increase the self confidence in people. We are all special. We are not inferior to anyone else in this world. Just because we think like this, we need not denigrate others. We have no right to do that.

If we see the world in the scientific way, we are all equal. Nature (or God) has given all of us 2 eyes, 2 ears etc.,

The weight of the brain is also same for everyone. Then why we think we are inferior to others? Or why should we think that we are superior to others?

Each has a specific role to play in this world. Some people’s roles come to be known to everyone in this world. For example, Mahatma Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Rabindranath Tagore to name a few.

There are others who help the world in their own way. But they all get categorized under unanimous. They are keen to help others, but they don’t want their names to be known by the world.

When the life is like this, we should be careful not to hurt others. This is to be seen in another way. If the other person hurts us, do we tolerate? No!

We should treat the others the way we want them to treat us!

We have been brought to this world to do something special. There are people who build our houses, people who build prayer halls, people who build hospitals; we even have people who build crematoriums!

That means each has done his duty. Same way someone sells us vegetables, some give us water and some others give us service like driving a Bus, Taxi, Auto.

So, we have to think positively and do our work like the Sun.

No one is like the Sun. It comes up in the East at the stipulated time, gives light and heat and goes down in the West at the stipulated time. It doesn’t mean that the Sun is out. When we have the darkness, the Sun has gone to give light to the Western Countries. Amazing, isn’t it?

The Sun is called the Karma saakshi in Sanskrit. He will be the witness to our doing (and undoing!). It doesn’t feel happy that there is a birth in a house where sunlight is being shone. Or it doesn’t feel unhappy that someone died in someone’s house!

I do not say that we should be without any feeling. What I mean is that nothing should bring hindrance in our duty. My idea is that we should shirk away from our duty.

If one is a carpenter by his profession, he could be the best person to do the carpentry work. If he is asked to make a pot, he may not be the best person.

This is on the professional front. On the personal front, I am son /daughter to our parents, brother/sister to our brothers and sisters, husband/wife to our respective spouses, father/mother to our children.

This looks very silly, but seriously, it is a matter of high importance. Imagine anyone is missing in our lives, we feel forlorn. This is where the statement no one can play our role better than us rings true.

Thought for the day nine

We explore the stars and the depths of the sea but how much do we know about ourselves and the reason for being here?

There is a song in a Kannada Movie “oh civilized man, you learnt to fly like bird in the sky, you learnt how to swim like fish in the water, but you did not learn to live on the earth”

So true! We have conquered the skies and the seas. When it comes to live on earth, we have so many complexes.

First and foremost thing is the comparison. We tend to compare ourselves with others. Unfortunately for all wrong reasons.

If someone who sees a man with one leg and thinks ‘Thank God, I have two legs. I am grateful to you’ is a good way of comparison.

On the other hand, ‘Oh, why my neighbor has two cars and I have only one?’ is a bad way of comparison.

This comparison leads to a lot of complications. I have seen people going out of the way to earn enough money for the second car, but in nefarious means.

The chase of a golden deer always ends in defeat, sorrow.

I have seen a sparrow building nest in my home during late ‘60s. First it was a pair. Then the mother sparrow laid eggs and sat on it for giving warmth to the eggs.

One day the small sparrow kids started making noise. The mother and father brought worms and fed them to the kids. After a few days, the worms were brought, but not fed. They were put in front of the kids. The kids ate themselves. Then one day, as I was watching, the mother sparrow made the kid sparrow stand on the edge of the nest and gave it a push.

The kid sparrow screamed in fear and spread its wings. But it did not fall down as it feared. It flew happily.

The next day the nest became empty. All the birds had flown away. New place, new babies...

Really, the animals and birds have been taught by nature, what exactly they have to do when they take birth.

They are born, they grow, they mate, they reproduce, they die.

I have heard somewhere, Man is the only animal who eats when he is not hungry, drinks when he is not thirsty and has sex when it is not the season.

This is very true with humans. They have complexes which are missing in animals. Animals have pain, pleasure, fear etc., but no complexes.

Bhalaa mera shirt us se safed kyon nahin was a famous detergent powder’s advertisement. How come my shirt is not as white as his?

So, the differences start from a small issue like whiteness of a shirt. Is it really required? Are we living for others? why do we feel inferior when our neighbor has a better living style? Can we compare ourselves with others in everything? NO, It is not possible.

I remember my childhood days. I was brought up in a Railway Colony. The quarters had similar sized houses. The men used to have friendship. The women were sharing each other’s joy and sorrows. We kids unmindful of any of the undercurrents were playing with each other. We had no complexes. No, not the kids, even the elders did not have any problems. No one bothered if the other home had a new radio. We used to go and enjoy the music, movie sound tracks. This is because we felt all are equal.

Well, that is one thing we have to think of. If we are equal, no competition, no disappointment. Correct?

We are here because the nature has decided that we have to be a part of this big bad world. We have to think of survival and well-being of our children.

I always feel our life is divided into three parts. One – the life from birth to the marriage. Two – The spouse, the children, their education etc., till they become independent. Three – Balance life if anything is still left.

Beyond that, nothing else!

Thought for the day eight

If man cannot find peace within himself, can there be peace in this world?

This is the highest level of philosophy. Man gets born, gets educated, starts earning, the desire to earn more and more gets imbibed in him, this leads to race against time and the earning would be against the cost of peace of mind, well most of the times and with most men/women.

I think each one of us will undergo this torture. When we are having a job, this would be in a competitive world. I need more money than my neighbor/ friend. At what cost? Health? Peace?

Yes, this is the in thing now. We have pollution everywhere, variety of them. One of the worst is noise pollution. This means, the exterior peace is gone.

Inner peace has to come from within. People go to Himalayas to get the peace. We see people going to resorts in the weekends saying ‘far from the madding crowd’

I have read a novel by Mr. Yandamoori Veerendranath, famour Telugu author. The author has lost his wife somewhere and he goes in search of her. Her name is Shanti. When we come to the end of the novel we come to know that he is referring to Peace (Shanti in Sanskrit) which is being lost by him.

Really a very poignant way of narrating the loss and gain of peace.

There is a story of a king who comes to know that a monk in the forest has a coin which gives peace of mind. So the king goes to the forest and meets the monk who is in his hut. The monk smiles when the King says he wants the coin to get peace.

The monk agrees but says, I will hide it in this hut. You have to search and take it.

The king agrees. That night the king stays in the hut on the insistence of the monk. Early in the morning the monk goes out. The king now decides to search for the coin.

He goes on searching everywhere in the hut. The hut was quite small and not many hiding places!

By the time the monk comes back the king would have searched the whole place and failed.

The monk asks, did you find it?

The king says no.

Did you search the whole place? Asks the monk.

Yes, says the king exasperated.

The monk walks to the pillow on which the king had kept his head previous night and removes the coin from below the pillow.

The king did not even think of looking at that place.

The monk says, oh Rajah, the peace is not anywhere else, it is within you. If you try to find it outside, you will be sadly disappointed.

Yes, the peace is within. We have to close the physical ears to the noise around us whenever we want peace.

I would be very peaceful when I sit alone on a beach. The noisy waves give me very soothing feeling. Same with a water fall. The water falling sound is like music to my ears.

Sounds funny? No, please try to sit (of course, alone!) in these places and experience the same. I find peace even in the noisiest place if I chant a single word or a mantra of any God. We can keep repeating it in mind so that the concentration will go towards that and calmness surrounds our mind.

Still, I feel music could be the best thing. Not the bang bang one. Any rhythmic sound.. say it could be TR Mahalingam’s flute or Beethoven’s violin. If we listen to them with our open inner ears, peace will come and engulf us.

Well, there could be more methods which you all use.

Haasu Hokku

I think it was somewhere in 1997. I read an article in The Week magazine. It was a sex crime article. The incident had taken place in Surat, Gujarat State.

A constable had killed a woman in the Court in front of thousands of witnesses. He was shouting that she swindled him of his happiness.

It was not that straight forward a case. There were many twists and turns. The twists were so much that the writer of the article had given a sketch which read something like this.

There were six boxes. Each was depicted with A, B, C, D, E, F.  There were arrow marks. They read like this. A was in love with B. A was married to C. D is in relation with B. E had an eye on C. F was lusting B... oh, it was so confusing; but it was fascinating as well.

The writer in me urged me to write a short story. But the format was not too small for such a level of convolutions in the story.

So, I decided to write a novel.

The first and foremost doubt was whether I will be able to justify the theme. The idea was good. But the undercurrent sex was very critical to handle.

I should write about sex, but it should not make the reader cringe.  Well, my first reader for myself. If I feel I have gone overboard, I could change the words. With this decision, I started writing.

How to start?

Basically the first scene has to be interesting for reader to continue reading and complete the novel.

I have read many Agatha Christie’s detective novels. When a murder scene is set in a big hotel with too many guests, it is a marvel how Ms. Christie explains the numerous characters without making the reader get confused.

I decided to take the best route. I started the story with the murder of a woman and a man being reported.

Then I went back to the flashback.

There is this married woman who is having an eye on a handsome younger man. That man is also being loved by a unmarried girl. The man is a flirt. He plays with both the women and gets what he wants.

The married woman also plots well to get the younger man nearer to her.

There is another track. The married woman is the second wife of her husband. The husband has a son Chinnu who is a very timid boy.  The husband conveniently ‘forgets’ to mention that he has a son from the first marriage. The wife ensures that her husband catches his young son in a compromising situation with her. The boy Chinnu is thrown out of the house.

Now, the present. The married woman is bored of her husband. She cleverly poisons him and disposes his body.

The story goes further with many more twists and turns. The Police Inspector is behind the real culprit.

Ultimately when the married woman is being produced in the Court on the accusation of killing her husband, a police constable shoots and kills her.

The biggest twist in the story is that the police constable is Chinnu who  was thrown out of the house by the same woman.

The story came out well. With the usual enthusiasm I sent it to a weekly magazine where my mentor was the editor.

When I called him after a few weeks, he asked me to meet with him.

He was very polite. But I knew something was wrong. He said, “Yathiraj, the story is good. But there are eight sex scenes. I can’t put it in front of my readers. Sorry!”

I was stunned. As far as I remember I have not written even one word which makes the reader feel uncomfortable. Of course, I had to symbolically mention that there is sex happening between people, because it was the crux of the whole story.

I took it back and gave it to a new weekly magazine. It was in cold storage for some time and again was returned politely.

This time I took it to Kannada Prabha newspaper. They had already published many of my novels as daily serials. So, I was a sort of well-known thereJ

I met the then editor Mr. Sadashiva. While handing over the manuscript I mentioned that the novel has been rejected by two magazines.

He asked me what was the subject. I said “The story is about sex”.

He looked at me for a moment and asked “will the readers die with a heart failure by reading your novel?”

I smiled and said No sir.

He accepted the novel and it was published as a daily serial in Kannada Prabha.

The novel got rave reviews by the readers. “Mature writing”, “Good study of human psychology” etc.,

The novel I am writing about is called Haasu Hokku meaning ebb and tide in a cloth. I say that the love and sex are like ebb and tide of a cloth. Only the mix has to be proper!

Jeevanmukhi

After completing my absurd novel ‘Gaathe’ I went to office for 2 months (1996) and again fell sick.

Doctors advised me to take rest for about a month. The sickness made my attitude very negative. I was depressed very much.

At that time I was attracted by an article in the Telugu Weekly Swati. It narrated a poignant story of a 70 year old woman in Canada who was waiting for her son from 42 years. The boy was 9 when he vanished from her life. Her husband was caught in embezzlement in a Bank. A computer expert has prepared her son’s photograph of today using computer technology. People say that they have seen such a person. The story has appeared in many Canadian magazines. But still her son has turned up to see the mother.

I felt much moved with this incident. Here is a mother who is waiting for her son. I thought of making a novel out of the incident. But the length was not enough. What is life? It is only relative. We always relate to others. We are poorer than our neighbors, She is beautiful than her sister etc.,

With this idea, I thought of another woman who discards her child. Why should she discard? She is a famous actress. If she is famous and unmarried, but circumstances lead her to get pregnant, what will she do? One is, she is famous and planning to go up the ladder of fame. Secondly, there is a lot of taboo attached to unwed mothers. Well, nowadays it is common to be a single mother. So, I had to go back in time, 1975. What was so special? Emergency, riots, etc.,

So, I decided to make my heroine a counselor. Her name is Vasundharaa. It means earth. Mother earth is synonymous with patience. She loses her son. Her husband runs away with bank money. But she keeps her face towards life and keeps on helping people. She is a nurse in an old age home. She comes to Bangalore from Belgaum to search for her son.

The other heroine is Lalanaa. Lalanaa means woman. She is full of color. She is a famous Hindi movie heroine. She gets fame. She gets caught in a blizzard in Simla and saved by a man. The blizzard continues for a week and these two become lovers. Once the blizzard is over, both go away without even giving the details of each other to each other. She becomes pregnant. She can’t remove the child. She is forced drive her car alone to Ooty. A girl child is born before time. The premature baby survives. She abandons the child in a hut and runs away to Bombay.

The two meet in a train. Actually the story starts from here. Both become fellow travellers in a coupe of a bogie. Lalanaa comes to know that Vasundhara has come to search for her son using her ‘foster’ son’s friend Jnaaneshwar.

She takes a liking for Vasundharaa and asks her to stay in her home. She is also alone in her house. She is cheated by her secretary and hair dresser. She catches a disease which makes her eyes dull and a bad makeup material burns her cheeks to black color.

Vasundharaa becomes totally involved in taking care of her ‘old men and women’ in the old age home. She tries to solve their problems.

Jnaneshwar prepares photos of Vasundharaa’s lost son with many permutations and combinations. The photos get published in newspapers.

In the meanwhile, Vasundharaa narrates her flashback to Lalanaa. In return, Lalanaa tells her story to Vasundharaa. Both are of about 52 years when the story starts.

During a trip to Belur, while the bus is out of order, they are forced to spend time by watching a Tamil movie. Lalanaa shrieks while watching a scene. She feels the chorus dancer who was behind the heroine is her own carbon copy of younger days.

They go to Madras. It turns out that the girl is indeed Lalanaa’s abandoned daughter. The girl has her own agenda. She tries to become an actress and fails because her leg gets amputated. Vasundharaa makes her strong by boosting her self-confidence.

When all the ‘prepared’ photos of Vasundharaa’s son are published in an international edition of a magazine, a couple comes forward saying that her son is with them since his childhood.

The story ends with a surprising note.

After the manuscript was ready, I handed it over to two famous lady authors. Both liked the novel and suggested the same change!

I too had the idea.. but their advice firmed up the idea.

I called the novel Jeevanmukhi... meaning a person with face towards life.

I got rave reviews when it was published as a weekly serial in one of the most famous magazine Sudha.

Even now I feel that is my best social novel.