A phenomenon called Pandian

Regardless of who makes gain or loss, wins or loses this ongoing election in my home state of Odisha back home in India, love him or hate him, there is something undeniable in the electoral air - "the Pandu, aka, Pandian" phenomenon. The election 2024 in Odisha is undoubtedly Karthikeyan Pandian's election, he is the one on everyone's mind and mandate.In the hot and stiffling, humid campaign trails the man is constantly seen next to the popular Chief Minister Naveen Patnaik, smiling and waving next to him, holding the microphone 🎤 to his mouth as the white attired CM, a man of few words speaks in feeble, accented Odia. 

Who is Pandian ? He is an IAS Officer of Odisha cadre who rose to prominence by running the day to day administration on behalf of the Chief Minister Naveen Patnaik who is normally adverse to get into the nitty gritty of day to day running of the state, leaving the administration to run on the wheels of India's powerful, massive bureaucracy. Pandian brought efficiency to the notoriously sloth Babudom of Odisha which impressed Naveen Babu. Soon he got a blank check by the CM by starting to run the political affairs of the state, initially in the background, until 6 months ago he shed his shyness to come to the forefront by resigning from his cherished IAS job to jump into the more lucrative profession of politics by joining BJD, the party whose wheels run on the charisma of the laconic Naveen Patnaik. 

It is said that Pandian who is seen as Naveen Patnaik's Man Friday and his anointed political successor, always seen next to him like his bodyguard, is like his foster son. Some joke in Odia - "Naveen Patnaik JHADA GALA PARE Pandian CHHANCHEI DAU THIBA" (After Naveen Patnaik done with his shitting, Pandian probably washes off his ass). Figuratively speaking it says a lot. The man certainly have been given a free hand by the CM to run the party and more importantly the state administration by remote. An old time politician of the ruling Party BJD who prides himself as a PAIKA KHANDAYAT, a self proclaimed lion from a caste in Odisha with a reputation of their ancestors being fearless fighters bends his back, behaving more like a CHHELI (goat) in front of Pandian. So much about his Khandayat bravely and self respect. He isn't alone. Even today, if his detractors in BJP and Congress are offered a plum party tickets or position, they will come running to him, licking his feet while wagging their tails. The so called Odia pride be damned, relegated to the backburner only to be used for political purposes. 

Pandu has earned a name and fame by carving his niche in the political milieu of Odisha, so much so that the top brass of BJP, including India's Prime Minister Modi is accusing the young, just retired IAS Officer of Odisha cadre, originally from the south Indian state of Tamil Nadu of stealing the state's money and resources. To Pandian's defense comes M.K.Stalin, the Chief Minister of his home state Tamil Nadu who wants to make a political score by defending his compatriot from his own state - "Modi is hurting our Tamil pride by going personal and regional against Pandian as if we Tamils are robbers". It is said that all is fair in love and war. Add politics to that. 

Pandian came to USA last Fall where he was chatting with NROs (Non Resident Odias). A friend of mine asked him - "Hey Karthik (Pandian's First Name). I heard you are the man running the show in Odisha". Wearing an untucked cream colored shirt and white pants, not accustomed to such a blunt query, Pandu got flustered by such a remark, but politely smiled backed in a thick Tanglish (Tamil accented English) - "Naa. Nayything (nothing) like thyat (that). Sir (Naveen Patnaik) is in charge of our governments because people layve (love) him". He wasn't far from the truth. People love Naveen Patnaik. But not so much Pandian who is seen by the commoners as messenger of the Chief Minister of Odisha. Odia news channels who do silly and shallow reporting jump on to every media byte of Pandian, giving him a larger than life portrayal. 

Last couple of weeks I was in India on an unplanned trip. It didn't go unnoticed to me that Pandu, aka Pandian was the hot topic of discussion amongst locals. During the DASA TUTHA (the10th day Ritual) on a hot and humid but breezy afternoon the main topic amongst male relatives from my extended family was the ongoing election and how Pandian has hijacked our "Mukhya Mantri" (Chief Minister) and his agenda. The females who cared least about politics, preferred to gossip about family and doing character assassination of their Mother-in-laws and Daughter-in-laws, Samudi and Samuduni (co-in laws) whom soever concerned. 

The barber while giving me a clean shave and wiping off chunks of my long salt and pepper hair proclaimed loud enough to be audible to the rest sitting under  the shade of a huge Banyan tree - "AGYAN PANDU NABINI BABU KU PURA KABU KARI DEICHI (Pandian has totally captured our CM). Yet I will still vote for Naveen Babu. He is a simple and honest man. The BJP consists of all discarded elements from other parties". But rest of my relatives, all Brahmins, happened to be supporters of BJP. Though not Bhakt types, they were not happy at Pandian, a Tamilian controlling Odisha. I interjected - "After all Pandian is Indian  It is one thing to have pride about one's language and culture. We Odias aren't a race known for being proud of our language, culture and tradition. If Pandian controls Odisha and Odias, for that we Odias clearly have to be blamed. Could an Odia have gone this far in any other state of India as Pandu has succeeded in Odisha ? I don't think so. That speaks a lot about us. Folks are simply jealous of Pandu's unprecedented success. The anatagonism against Pandian is self explanatory as success breeds enemy. 

We live in interesting times. June 4 will decide the political future of Pandu who is tolerated by his party for his closeness to NP, whom the people love from the bottom of their heart. It has to be seen how far a resurgent BJP will be able to break the BJD citadel and the political future of the nascent entry of Pandu who is barely 50. He may stay for long run, or fade into political oblivion. We are uncertain about it. But what is certain, the man has carved his niche. Purusottam Dev of Puri conquered Kanchi (part of Tamil Nadu). Now the wheel of fortune has turned a full circle. 

Pandian reminds me of a scene from Bollywood movie APAHARAN (Kidnapping). Nana Patekar playing a Don hires a rookie kidnapper played by Ajay Devgan into his gang. Nana's jealous, perturbed henchmen questions the veracity of taking Ajay into his folder. Nana justifies his hiring - "PEHLE APNA AUKAAD DIKHAYA, USKE BAAD KAAM MANGA (He first proved his worth, then he asked for job). Similarly, Pandian has proved his mettle with his meteoric rise. Only time will bear the testimony of how far he will go !!!

Birthday 2024

 Thanks everyone for your wonderful birthday wishes. Completely flabbergasted, floored and flattered, pleasantly overwhelmed by multiple number of wishes on social media and still counting. Thanks for those being so creative to create a story for me on Facebook for this occasion. I can only write crap, can't be creative like you to create a story. 

I am not much of a milestone commemorative type of person for whom the birthday and anniversary is just another day. This year's birthday was no exception. On top of that, on a sombre note it came at a time a few days from my mother's passing away. It will be my first ever birthday without my mom. She would invariably be the first person to call and wish me, reminiscing about that very day more than half a century ago. Her is the wish I am going to miss forever for the rest of my life. 

Per Western Astrology I have the same zodiac Sun sign Gemini as every one else who is born between May 21 and June 20. Geminians are considered to be good communicators and tend to be popular in social circles. At the same time Geminians are known to be fickle, restless and mercurial in nature. It is the sign of twins. They get well along with  their co-Geminians, Librans and Aquarians. 

On a lighter note Geminians tend to be popular among opposite sex, the famous Geminian examples are John F Kennedy, Marilyn Monroe, Angelina Jolie vindicate this fact. Not necessarily all Geminians are Casanova, but many I know having this star sign end up in love marriages (a term used in India for those marrying after falling in love or in self negotiated marriages). Being a girl shy person, I am probably an exception to this very Geminian rule.

During my childhood, on our birthdays my mom would pray and cook KHEER (a sweet dish) for us siblings. An additional luxury could be a special dish from her kitchen. Those days birthdays were tame affairs sans balloons, cake cuttings or any kind of fanfare. It's still the same for me. 

We grew up in a collective society where our identity is more qualified by lineage, village, caste, community and so on (many South Indians and Punjabis have their village names tagged to their name. For example - for P. Ravi Kumar, P could be the first initial of the man's native village. For a Sikh named Jagjit Singh TALWANDI, the last part is the name of his PIND, or village). I or Me as an individual always came last after the society, village, city or district. Unlike the current generation, it was the norm for most parents of our time to have more than two kids. On top of that many lived in joint families who shared the same roof and celebrated thirteen festivals in twelve months. Birthdays of an individual rarely made into the priority list, always put in the back burner.  

But things in India are changing fast with rapid urbanization. The bonding built as a result of long term fusion of Nuclear families is fast dissipating by fission. DITK (Double Income Two Kids) is the new normal, prominently proclaimed by the rise in birthday celebrations as the harbinger of neo individualism. While I hardly celebrate my birthday, my son plans ahead for months to celebrate his. It is quite understandable. For him growing up in America where individualism rules the roost, his birthday is a matter of celebration.  

No wonder in US they make a big deal about Birthdays. Years back one fine morning no sooner I entered my work place, than I found it nicely decorated with balloons proclaiming "HAPPY 50th BIRTHDAY". Half dozen teammates barged in, singing an impromptu Happy B'day song. A cake was cut. I had my few minutes of celebrity fame. They gave me a funny card signed with something like "Why Men Turn Naughty After Fifty" printed on it. (Americans make a lot of fuss about celebrating occasions, liberally punching them with dosages of humor. We in India are fast catching up). 

I forced myself a smile by fully exposing my phalanx of my 32 teeth and took a snap with them. Yet it was a stark reminder that being 50 in Chemistry lingo I have already reached the half life period, a la radioactive elements. In ancient India at this age people use to take VANAPRASTA (preparation towards retirement). In modern age life begins after middle age. 

Thanks again for your birthday wishes. For the first time in my life my mother wasn't there to wish me, for her wish was the one I always long for and I still can hear her wish from heaven. Let me yet again repeat this stanza from the famous Mukesh song in movie "MERA NAAM JOKER", 

"CHAHE KAHI BHI TUM RAHO,

CHAHENGE TUM KO UMR BHAR

TUM KO NA BHOOL PAENGE".. 

Roughly transliterated... 

"Wherever you are going to live,

I will long for you all my life,

Shall Never be able to forget you"....

Return with memories - India trip May 2024

Throughout my India trip, I got used to get up around 3 O'clock in the morning and couldn't sleep any further. As soon as I got up, the memories of my mother would flashback in my mind as if I just woke up from a bad dream, unable to reconcile with the fact that she isn't there anymore. A la Ray Charles who famously sang "Georgia in my mind", my mother is in my mind. During the afternoons I napped for 2-3 hours to catch up some sleep, managing to get my quota of 6-7 hours of sleep a day, enough to keep me sane during the torrid times. 

As usual I got up at 3 AM on the morning of my day of departure, but felt something unusual, as if someone prodding me to check my email. Invariably Whatsapp and Facebook are the first two things I check whenever I open my phone, emails invariably being the last thing. This time something inside me told me to check my mailbox as soon as possible. I just saw an email intimation me that my Virgin Atlantic flight from Delhi to London has been canceled. Soon it was followed by another email saying that my flight had been rescheduled for the same route to take Air India from Delhi to Doha, then from Doha to London Heathrow in a British Airways flight at 7.30 PM, almost 7 hours ahead of schedule. To make it more difficult, I had to reschedule my Indigo from Bhubaneswar to Delhi to connect to my international flight, so I had to leave my home around 10 AM, about 8 hours ahead of my original schedule. 

With not much time left, I went into action mode. I promptly called the Indigo Airlines Customer service, prepared to pay the price difference for pre-poning (advancing) my flight. But to my surprise my evening Indigo flight was canceled too, so the Customer Service Rep put me on another Indigo flight leaving for Delhi at noon free of charge. I tried to sleep, but couldn't sleep any further as I needed to get prepared as my flight has been advanced by 8 hours. If I leave Bhubaneswar at noon on a 2 hour flight to Delhi, I will still have plenty of time to catch my 7.30 PM Air India flight from Delhi to Doha. 

Or so I thought. No sooner I arrived at the Bhubaneswar Airport, during check-in I was told that the flight is running 2 hours late. Then it became 3 hours late, before the flight took off from Bhubaneswar termac around 3.30 PM. Upon arrival at Delhi Domestic Airport, the flight taxied and sat on ground for at least another 30 minutes. I literally huffed and puffed my way to the International Departure gate and managed to catch the flight to Doha when the final boarding call was being announced. 

I took an Air India international flight after 24 years, though inadvertently. Thought that it would have got better with Tatas taking over it. But old wine in New bottle didn't make it any better. The seats looked trashy, in-flight entertainment system wasn't working. So I decided to doze off only to be woken up by a short, plumpy Air Hostess who needed my help to close the overhead cabin as she couldn't reach there. I duly obliged. Another passenger addressed her as sister. Heard medical nurses in India being addressed as "sisters", never knew Air Hostesses were addressed as same. Thankfully the flight to Doha was only for a duration of 4 hour. 

My next flight was from Doha to London was in a British Airways flight. Couple of things stood out on this flight - a beautiful English breakfast and an equally beautiful tall,  brunette English Air hostess at service. It instantly brought back old memories like data pulled from a database using a unique key. My mother was aware of my fascination towards tall girls. One fine rainy summer evening there was a long power cut with mosquitos 🦟 swarming around. Mom who had a decent command over Odia and Hindi literature, always used to tease me - "Somewhere your tall dream girl is waiting for you to be her Prince Charming murmuring - "RUPA RAIJA RAJKUMAR HEBA MO MANA CHORA (the Prince of the glamor world is going to steal my heart). I was hardly any Prince Charming, but for all moms their son is the most handsome dude on earth. I replied - "A girl dreams of a man lifting her for miles in his arms, but now I can think of mosquitos lifting me for miles". We usually take the liberty of having light hearted talk with our moms, often tease them, the same liberty we rarely take with our father. 

At Doha Airport I saw few Arabians in white cotton helmets, with their female folks tagged along in black attire from top to bottom peeping through tiny slits cut below their foreheads - looking like Ku Klux Klan members in black attire. Covid virus won't dare penetrate their impregnable visors.  

Arrived back in Georgia with my wound from the sudden loss of my mother still raw. I am yet to recover from the shock following her sudden demise. Time is the best healer but it is going to  take a long time to heal. Time  almost heals every thing, but it comes with the disclaimer "almost". Some wounds never heal. Couple of songs from the 1977 Hindi movie "SWAMI" makes a lot of sense now. 

"PAL BHAR MEIN YEH KYA HO GAYA,

WOH MEIN GAYEE, WO MAN GAYA".. 

Transliterated... 

"What has happened in twinkle of an eye,

My mind is gone, so also Me".. 

And follows another one from same movie, 

"YADON MEIN WOH, SAPNO MEIN HAI,

JAE KAHAN,

DHADKAN KI BANDHAN TO

DHADKAN SE HAI"... 

Transliterated, 

"She is in my thoughts,

She is in my dreams 

Where should I go,

For relationship of heartbeat,

is tied to my heartbeat.

Departure with memories - India trip May 2024

On the very next day of my arrival in Bhubaneswar the weather suddenly turned cooler and more salubrious after bouts of summer thunderstorms locally known as "Kalabaisakhi". It suddenly felt like Bhubaneswar from my childhood days. Thanks to the weather and unseasonal rains my job as the "Karta" (one who is doing the rituals) became less punishing. The day after my mom's rituals were over, it started getting hotter after a 10 day breather. Last couple of days have been quite hot.

This morning I went over to the balcony to take a peek at the outside world and enjoy a cool breeze blowing the dust around, looking nostalgically at the "Tagara", "Mandara" (hibiscus) and other trees planted by my  mother who had a green thumb. You must have heard about Sand mafia, Land mafia etc. Have you heard of Flower mafia ? They come at wee hours of the morning, steal flowers from the frontyard gardens in our locality and sell them off to the larger market segment. The senior citizen living in our lane can hardly do anything to stop them. 

I saw a man leaning over our fence, then  pulling down a branch surreptitiously to steal the low hanging flowers. I shouted at him from top at top of my voice - "Aren't you ashamed of stealing our flowers ? Don't you have the minimum courtesy of asking us before you pluck them ?" Rather than see them fade and fall off, I don't mind sharing our flowers for non-commercial purpose, but don't want them to be blatantly stolen without due permission. The man pulled away and moved on to the next house without any remorse, exposing his black betel stained teeth like the snarl of a rabid mongrel.

During my short stay in this trip I made sure to meet several senior citizens I know, like and care about. Regardless of our wish, we aren't sure if they would be present when we visit next time . This is the harsh reality of life I learnt the hard way, as when I was here last January that was the last time I saw my mom alive. Now she isn't there anymore. Also a stark warning to my friends who live abroad - if you got elderly parents and relatives in India, you need to be always on alert with a contingency plan in place for any eventuality. For you never know, as tragedy choses to strike at the most inopportune moment.

I was impressed by my experience in Swargadwar, Puri, the most preferred cremation ground for Odias. The process is very structured and streamlined with least hassles to face. You need the following to proceed with cremation:

1. Present your Adhar card if you are the one doing "Kriya Karma".
2. Present the Adhar card of the deceased.
3. Medical report if any from the hospital to certify the death.

You can also book the services through www.swargadwara.com, a start up website created by my entrepreneur friend Plaban Mohapatra.

I booked the Khatta Mitha Convention Center on Tanka Pani Road near Ravi Talkies for my mother's "Shradhanjali" on the 12th day of Shraddha. It is location friendly and professionally run providing excellent food and facilities at a very reasonable price.

But don't expect similar professionalism from the Tent Houses and never completely rely on them. Trust but Verify should be the motto. Keep tab of their work and ensure that they do their job right without leaving you in dire straight at 11th hour. As far as the rituals go, there is no standardized, documented set of rules and process to be followed for the "Sudha Kriya" (death ritual). If you aren't too conservative, want least hassle, the option of "Arya Samaj" is always there. It eliminates the lengthy set of procedures which is part of the normal "Kriya Karma" rituals where you are prone to the whims and fancies of the Purohit (Priest). Fortunately, my Purohit and Barber were pretty understanding, cooperative and very punctual. I religiously followed priest's instructions, conveniently ignoring all sorts of unsolicited advices and suggestions thrown at me dime a dozen.

Many of us who have been living abroad for more than quarter of a century, are far from being familiar with the nuances of milieu. So it is advisable to go through a local contact, lest you are taken for a ride. Unless it is absolutely necessary, never disclose that you are a NRO (Non Resident Odia). Many harbor this view that NRIs, especially those from USA plant money producing trees in their backyard. Every morning they harvest sacks fulls of dollars. Then they lie on pillows full of $100 notes (bills) with pretty girls hanging sweet grapes on their mouth. This is far from truth as reality could be different.

I go back to USA with tons of memories and loads of emptiness in my heart. Everything in and around this house  - from the whirring sound of the wall mounted AC to the smell of mangoes, from the musical sound of breeze passing through the flora around our house to the house kitties looking for her carries her legacy.
 
For the first time in my life my mother won't be there to hug and see me off. It so happened it was I who came down here to bid her adieu. Let me yet again repeat this stanza from the famous Mukesh song in movie "MERA NAAM JOKER",

"CHAHE KAHI BHI TUM RAHO,
CHAHENGE TUM KO UMR BHAR
TUM KO NA BHOOL PAENGE"..

Roughly transliterated...

"Wherever you are going to live,
I will long for you all my life,
Shall Never be able to forget you"....

End of the rituals - India trip May 2024

It was some cosmic coincidence that the "Ekadasha Shraddha" or the 11th day Ritual of my mom coincided with the "Mother's Day" as per the Gregorian Calendar. This was my first ever Mother's Day without my mother. I celebrated the occasion by giving my heart to her soul, religiously doing the 4 hour ritual with she in my mind, her photo adorned with flowers smiling at me. There is no words left in my vocabulary repertoire to describe the void she has left in my life. In the process of doing my "Kriya Karma", I got familiar with many aspects of the ritual. Learnt the trick of Sabhya (civilized) and Asabhya (uncivilized) mode of changing the Paita (sacred thread worn by Brahmins) from left to right and right to the left respectively.

The 11th Day Shraddha was arguably the most gruesome day of the "Kriya Karma" with one long procedure during the day, followed by a walk in the evening to the "PINDA KUNDA" (The dumpyard of the offerings to the soul) not far from where I live. The last and final ritual of the day was during night at a nearby dark place just outside our home. Finally, the long day ended at late night. I was glad that I could contribute in repaying a fraction of my debt to my mom, how meager it may be, fully aware that still I will carry the burden of her debt in this life and next.

The morning of the 11 the day, the day after I shaved off my head to become a skinhead, part of the "Dasah", the 10th Day Ritual, I took a lump of Shampoo on my palm in shower and before applying it on my head, I suddenly realized that I got no hair on my head to shampoo. It still feels weird to be skin headed as I have forgotten the last time I shaved off my head.

Human reflex actions could be embarrassing. I am now reminded of this incident not long ago at an European Airport. A Virgin Atlantic flight was about to take off and the names of passengers not boarded yet were called. An Air hostess swung by, shouting on top of her voice - "ANY VIRGIN HERE", obviously looking for some missing Virgin Airline passengers. Couple of girls raised their hands. Everyone close by started looking at them, some with chuckles and half baked smiles. The shy girls retreated to their privacy by dropping their heads over their smartphones to hide their embarrassment, still peeping through corner of their eyes. Non of them got up to board the flight. We humans are slaves of inadvertent reflex actions.

However skillful you may be, you can never be 100% accurate, especially in the art of inviting. We invited with 99.99% accuracy, but still missed couple of folks we wanted to invite. It was purely unintentional and inadvertent. So we had to profusely apologize to them. You may do your job with accuracy, but it's that .01% error is going to getcha.

The 12th Day Rituals were conducted during the day, followed by an evening event "Shradhanjali" in my mom's memory attended by around 250 people. After several days of gruelling rituals it was a fitting finale to the departed soul of my mom. When I left the venue looking at her picture, unknown to me few drops of tears fogged my eyeglass.

Goodbye mommy. The day you left I dreamt of you walking on green pasture. During the rituals I sincerely prayed for you to have a blessed next life, born in a place like New Zealand, the land of meadows, for you always loved nature. To steal this stanza from the famous Mukesh song in movie "MERA NAAM JOKER",

"CHAHE KAHI BHI TUM RAHO,
CHAHENGE TUM KO UMR BHAR
TUM KO NA BHOOL PAENGE"..

Roughly transliterated...

"Wherever you are going to live,
I will long for you all my life,
Will Never forget you"....

10th Day of Karma - India trip May 2024

How time flies ! The "Dasah" or the 10th day, the longest day of rituals arrived in blink of an eye. We have this Odia proverb - "DAIBA DAUDI, MANISHA GAI, JENIKI TANAI SENIKI JAI" - "God is rope and man the cow. It goes the way it is pulled". It simply means, man proposes, God disposes. Life for me these days seems to be on auto pilot, cruising its way without me in control. Since I got the news of my mother's demise in the wee hours of May 2, I am reminded of Kishore Kumar's song - "YEH KYA HUA, KAISE HUA, KYOON HUA...YEH CHHODO YE NA SOCHO" - "O What happened, how it happened, why it happened...leave it at that, don't think much about it."  Yet I am in conflict with myself, like another Kishore Kumar song - "LEHRON KI TARAH YAADEIN. DIL SE TAKRAARI HAI, TOOFAN UTHATI HAI" - "Waves of Memories like waves, collides with the heart, raising a storm". Time will fly, days become week becomes month, months become year, but memories will last forever. 

When I took a shower this afternoon after a session of "Kriya Karma" (rituals), I found the water soothingly lukewarm, heated by solar energy. We don't have any solar panels or anything fancy like that. The overhead tank water was warmed by pure and natural sunlight. Felt so cool to take bath in this environmentaly friendly environment. No electricity or natural gas was needed to bring water to a lukewarm temperature. No boiler or geyser was operated, water only warmed by pure, unadulterated sunlight. But mention of this earth friendly incidentafter taking shower in lukewarm water only elicited lukewarm response from most. 

Ever since I arrived the weather has suddenly turned salubrious by local with intermittent showers. Felt like Bhubaneswa of yesteryear from my childhood days. It seems for my mother's good Karma even the weather has decided to cooperate since I have started doing her "Kriya" (rituals). All went on smoothly without any hassle. Today we had "Dasah", the 10th Day of Shraddha, the longest of the various rituals done every day in open space in 100 degree heat and humidity. All is well that ends well. The unseasonal rains kept confined to the night without impacting the day time rituals hel in the open. Late into the night the storm started to roll in with thunder sounding like music to my ears as the harbinger of some cooler weather, however temporary it might be. Suddenly the whizzing wind started picking up speed similar to roaring engine of a car on highway when you press the gas (accelerator) pedal. 

Most love sunshine, but I love rain - watching it coming down the sky and feeling the freshness it brings, the pristine flavor of it. The soul searching music of plattering raindrops is panacea to a longing heart, relief to an an aching heart. I stepped into our balcony. The streetlights were still on as the power hadn't gone yet (it's normal in most parts of India to have a power outage during inclement weather). The sky looked dark and heavy, loaded with emotion to the brink, ready to burst anytime. Huge and thick droplets of water started plattering the parapet. The raising wind made its leaves of our Jackfruit tree whisper like women gossiping about some secret while the Jackfruits hanging like the protruding tummies of a Sumo Wrestler looking on and enjoying every bit of it. The strangs of green mangoes on the nearby tree swung like pendulum, headbutting each other like rams in fight, some of them thumping the ground. 

The slicing rays of rain falling through the streetlight looked like rays of fireworks emitting from sparkler on a Diwali night. It continued to rain crazily for couple of hours, accompanied by natural fireworks of thunder and lightening symbolizing some marriage ceremony taking place in heaven. I found my match in an old Bull in our locality - for he puts his bullshit on our street, I load my share of the bullshit on Facebook. The poor old Bovine shared his space with couple of pariah dogs taking shelter under the mango tree protruding out above the wall near our gate. The animals shared the natural canopy, respecting each other's space with mutual trust and respect, occasionally shrugging off the excess water from their bodies and changing positions looking for drier spot. No wonder Crisis, calamities and casualties are the world's greatest levellers. A long 11th Day Ritual or "Ekadasah Shraddha" awaits me tomorrow.

9th Day Karma - India trip May 2024

The "Na Karma" or 9th Day Rituals started on time at 9 O'Clock in the morning, thanks to the commendable punctuality of both the Purohit (Priest) and Barika (Barber). The 9th day Rituals were mostly a repeat of the 7th day Rituals, with few takeaways here and there. It was less hassle considering a lot of essential set up was done on the 7th day itself. Akin to building a stadium, once it is built and the first game is successfully staged, we have have a template set which makes it easier going forward. 

In the meantime I have learnt how to wear a "DHOTI", a traditional white loincloth made up of cotton tied around the waist all by myself. It is most suitable for the sultry Indian summer. The traditional Indian attires of Dhoti for men and Saree for women are easy to wear and remove quickly when desired, compared to the Kurta/Salwaar Pyjama and Western attires. If worn properly worn one runs the risk of those coming off at the most inopportune moment. The inadvertent wardrobe malfunction can cause embarrassment in public. 

Exactly same happened to my friend during his marriage. When he, as the groom, arrived at bride's place, few of his over excited buddies part of the "BARAATI" (The groom's companions) pulled the groome from the car to dance with them, hell bent on impressing  the girls from the bride's side watching curiously the groom's arrival from sideline. The reluctant groom twisted his torso for a few steps when some one in the melee stepped over his "Dhoti's Kachha" (the fag end of the loincloth tucked behind). In the commotion that followed the entire Dhoti slipped out of the groom's waist without anyone noticing it. 

Oblivious of the fact that one piece of the attire gone missing, the groom stepped out of his car in his underwear with only the Kurta on top to save his shame. Unfortunately he is a Brahmin who was getting married in broad daylight and pretty visible to the audience. When the groome noticed the girls giggling at him covering their mouth using one hand, he knew something was amiss. No sooner he discovered his semi naked state, than embarrassed, he ran into the safety and privacy of his car as someone went out to fetch another Dhoti. Glad I didn't have to go through all that. 

There were lot of "JANDA" (Black 🐜 ants) crawling on the Puja (worship) venue where the 9th day "Kriya" was held in open. I had hard time shooing them away, trying my best not to let them enter into my Dhoti and being the cause of a scene for the onlookers at the nearby temple gaping at me and having the fun of watching me dancing on an elevated podium, with ants inside my pant. A video of the scene enacted would have got an instant million plus view on YouTube. I tried to be creative by putting some "MISRI" (Crystalline form of sugar) on a plate at one corner of the podium. The trick worked. All the black ants got diverted to the corner to sweeten their mouth without bothering me. The ritual continued without any further hindrance. 

"Preta Purohit" (the Priest who performs death rituals) is different from the normal one who conducts ritual of marriage and thread wearing ceremony. Unlike those who perform auspicious Rituals and available dime a dozen, the ones doing death rituals are limited and are hard to find. The priests who indulge in the auspicious occasions go idle during the off season for marriages and thread wearing ceremonies, especially from July to November when they have no work. But the pundits doing death rituals are sought after throughout the year as people die all the time. Death doesn't has a time off period, can hunt you down at the most unexpected, inopportune moment.

7th Day Karma and the Day After - India trip May 2024

The unseasonal summer rains in Odisha brought back memories from few summers ago. One evening after a bout of fresh rains, my wife, son and I stepped out, waiting on the street right next to our house for our Uber ride. Three guys on a motorcycle started oggling at my wife. No sooner they saw my wife than their heads turned in unison by 90 degree towards her, like they hadn't seen a girl before. All of sudden their pillion stumbled a pothole filled with ankle deep water. Distracted, one of them fell on the muddy puddle, while the other two got busy extricating their buddy from the mess. We had a hearty laugh at the fallen Romeo's expense. Kalabaisakhi rains has its share of fun and joy.   

A long day awaited me for the "Saata Karma" or the 7th Day "Kriya" (rituals). Sitting in open near fire in 110 degree heat plus humidity didn't seem very appealing. Fortunately the "Purohit" (priest) and "Barika" (Barber) needed for the occasion arrived on dot by 8 O'clock in morning. The long Puja (worship) session started at a podium near the Sukhmeswar Temple, a stone's throw distance from our house. Too much conditioned to the Air Conditioning I was apprehensive about the weather. But luckily the weather got lot milder for this time of the year. The cool southerly wind from Bay of Bengal meandering through the swaying tall and bushy "Krushnachuda" (Gol Mohar), Palm, Coconut, Mango, Jackfruit, Neem trees felt much more refreshing, beating any blast from the AC in an enclosed room any day. 

During the 4 hour long "Kriya Karma" session, in between the breaks I took the opportunity to chit chat with the Priest and the Barber. The Priest was from Banapur, a small town near Chilika and the Barber was from local Dhauli, southern suburb of Bhubaneswar. He reiterated the recent fad of every one in Odisha hell bent on being a home owner in BHONSARA (Bhubaneswar). Both are confident that regardless of the hype created by BJP,  BJD will come back to power in the ongoing  election. Naveen Patnaik, who may not be liked by the armchair social media warriors, is simply loved by masses who take pain to go to the polling booth. "Tell us about any alternative" - both Priest and the Barber continued further, "BJP in Odisha is inept and corrupt, filled with discarded elements from BJD and Congress, who are hated by the general public. They are going to be the Albatross on BJP's neck for a long time".

The Barber asked me - "AMERICA RE LOKE KANA BHATA KHANTI" (Do they eat rice in America) ? "They certainly do" - I replied. Not so much in quantity or so frequently unlike us. 

By noon the ordeal was over. My first urine in 4 hours of sitting in "Kriya Karma" resembled thick mustard oil, although I gulped down a big bottle of water. The heat and humidity was truly energy sapping, especially to those accustomed to the cooler, climate control environment. Walking barefoot for more than couple of hundred feet from the venue to my house was quite bit of a challenge on a midsummer day. But my mother in my mind was enough motivation for me to carry on. 

Apart from the Purohit (Priest) and Barika (Barber), the "Mahaprasad Abadha" (the food offering from Sri Ananta Basudev) delivery guys of Old Town area was punctual, arriving on time. Unlike these guys, not registered professionals but were dutifully thorough and punctual, the "Tent House" we hired, who was supposed to be a pro whom we hired to put a tent on top of the home did a sloppy job. Following our classic IST (Indian Stretchable Time) they arrived late. After delivering, they left without arranging the chairs and tables in order at the right place. It was getting late and dark, the Electrical equipments still not installed. With guests starting to arrive for the "Mahaprasad Sevan", we panicked. Those working on the Electrical installation were reluctant to help in setting up the dining area. True to a Gandhian, I pushed a few shiny, color papers bearing face of our "Father of Nation" Mahatma Gandhi into the hands of the available workers to push my agenda of getting the job on time. Suddenly they got pumped up, switching into an action mode and finished their job in no time. Money is world's greatest motivator. 

While dealing with most folks here, you are expected to be a mind reader to know the exact amount you need to pay. The guy may be expecting Rs.500, and you are ready to dish out Rs.1000, but he won't tell you know his mind. You are expected to be Clairvoyant and go deep inside his mind to figure it out. They are akin to women, who will never tell it straight, but rather tell it slant. You need to take hint at their gesture to know their wishes. Same here as far Public dealing goes, an art which gets matured with experience. Unfortunately we don't live here long enough to accentuate it. The old Adage - "Be Roman in Rome" still holds good.

The Day of KALABAISAKHI - India trip May 2024

There is a concept called "Puskara" - a more complicated part of several in series of the post death rituals. It is calculated by the direction given by "Panji" based on our Hindu Lunar Calendar. In case, some one passes away during that "Pushkara" phase, then additional complicated midnight Puja is done to pacify the departed soul. Otherwise, the spirit is termed as malicious to its family members.

Fortunately per our priest, my mother passed away on an auspicious day untouched by the "Pushkara" scenario - a blessed day to leave  for heavenly abode. As she left during a non - Pushkara phase, I don't have to go through the gruesome midnight ritual. Like a good soul, my mother never troubled anyone, in life or death.

The afternoon brought some respite from the stifling heat in the form of cool breeze wafting from distance. I smelled some thunderstorm close by. It turned out to be true, as soon a bout of KALABAISAKHI (summer time thunderstorm) rumbled in from the South side of the city. The sky turned from gray like my sombre mood and turned dark, as the wind picked up speed,  the dust filled wind giving way to heavy droplets of water plattering the ground with rhythmic music. The swaying coconut trees looked like gargantuan Wind Mills, their branches a la giant windshield wipers were seen swish-swashing the silvery gray. It was a pleasant feeling spending some time on our balcony, relishing the wind shower which briefly reminded me of Bhubaneswar of my childhood days.

The rain commenced with few droplets to bring out the petrichor, the smell of fresh rains on parched earth which can beat the best of French perfumes any day. Standing on the balcony I was looking at the nearby plants and trees showering. Squalls of thick, silvery streaks of rain lashed for few minutes, slicing through the thick, humid air. The rain kept on pounding, bringing down multiple trees in our neighborhood. The nimbus cloud bearing dark sky gets alive with the spectacle of flashes of white lightening as if zillions of flashlights are switched simultaneously in the sky, a la the zigzag lights on a circus stage.

The streets were filled with few broken twigs and leaves from the wind. The power went out but it didn't feel so bad as the rains brought down the temperature considerably. The ground was strewn with leaves and tree branches in a haphazard pattern, not to mention mangoes, some of them half split, covered the near of the entrance of our house. It was mother nature's turn to do an equable act, to bring relief from sweltering summer heat, at least temporarily. It felt cool, though still sticky due to the high level of humidity. I watched the rains wiping off dust from the foliage a la mopping off dust from wooden floor, as rainwater rolled down from coconut and betel nut palms. The buildings looked brighter. The parked cars looked fresh after the rain wiped off the surface dust, providing them a free, natural car wash.

The muggy air made my overgrown unkempt salt and pepper beard get sprinkled with sweat topping, making it feel itchy due to sal. I am looking like the Iraqi Dictator Saddam Hussain when he was caught after days of hiding. The morning after the rain cleared, the sun smiled, struggling through the disbursing clouds, glad being able to see though the far less dust studded air, thanks to the unseaonal but much needed rain. The air looks clean and crispy. City-zens of the city are enjoying the dust free air while it lasts.

The buildings are looking wet but lightened up by the sunshine peeping through cloud. The craters on the street across our house were filled with muddy water. One of those craters was used by the familiar stray dog who is part of our family, for we never fail to feed him. He was seen slurping the khaki color water on nascent poodles formed on the pothole filled roads to quench his thirst as his eyes were scouring for a drier spot to rest, being curiosity watched by a Bull close by shrugging off the excess water from its body. The flora and fauna around were trying to make best out of the unseaonal rains. The much welcomed showers lifted my mood a little bit, the optimistic side of me reminding that there it is always darkest before dawn.

The Beginning days of the unplanned trip to India - May 2024.

Election campaign in full swing, the media here in India - print, electronic and social are full of news about politics and the coverage of campaign trails. Also there are some odd but interesting news items to amuse you. An eye catching news on the vernacular paper "Sambada" was - "EKA TARAFA PREMARU JHIA RA PUSRUSHA BABDHU KU BIFALA PREMIKA KA CHHURA MADA (One sided affair of a frustrated lover of a girl led him to murder her boyfriend).

One positive side of this emergency trip to India is spending time with my sisters. We are together at home in the same house like good old days in our childhood. During late afternoon there was a power cut as electricity went poof for a short time, yet long enough to make me feel like a fish out of water. I lied down supine on hot bed getting barbecued. Sprinkle some salt and pepper over me I am a great grill. Another couple of hours I could have become a SUKHUA or dried fish, an Odia delicacy.

I stepped out of the room, still groggy and wobbly having woke up from the jet lagged sleep when our maid cautioned me not to step into the floor she just mopped. Thanking her for saving my somnambulist torso from crashing on the slippery floor, I tip toed carefully trudging into the balcony to get some fresh air. A street vendor was yelling DAHI BARA DAHI BARA (Dahi Vada), a big tin container tied to the back of his bicycle with rubber tubes. 

It reminded me of an episode from our childhood, when we used to defy our parents to buy DAHI BARA from such street vendors against our parent's wishes. Once we found couple of drowned cockroaches who had taken a Buttermilk burial. We were squarely reprimanded not to buy anything from such vendors. That was more than 40 years ago. Duscussing this we siblings had a hearty laugh at our expense, badly missing one person, our mother.

Our Hindu rituals of mourning death and salvation of soul are very detail oriented, running over a dozen days on special rituals assigned to specific dates. Unfortunately the process is neither structured nor quite
standardized or streamlined. 100 people give you 10,000 opinion, many unsolicited ones regarding the methodologies involved in these rituals out which you need to chose a few conducive to your resourcefulness and ability. I had never done these rituals before, so taking responsibility as the head of the household is no joke. Nor accustomed to this, it is quite a challenge.

On the positive side, social occasions due to these rituals gives an opportunity to meet and mingle with friends and relatives, some long lost relationships lying dormant for a long time to resurface again. Success may breed jealousy and adversaries, but sorrows and bereavement can be great leveller. No wonder it is said that during flood a goat and a tiger peacefully travel on the same boat. Ball is set in motion with long, hectic days ahead. I don't mind doing those at all. Anything necessary in honor of my mother to see her happy in the nether world. You got do which you got to do.

Goodbye my angel mother

When you get physically hurt, you may not feel the pain the immediately. The worst is invariably reserved for after. Same with any kind of mental agony. The real pain is felt the next day and the day after. The vacuum of my mother's absence still haunts me, the lacunae in my heart will remains forever. 

Bereavement can a great leveller. Sensing my sombre mood the person sitting next to me in the Virgini Atlantic flight from Heathrow to Delhi left me an entire stretch of 3 seats to sleep by stepping away to another seat in a flight with a good number of empty seats. After a long time, I could sleep in a supine pose, but could hardly get any. 

Tragedy often happens without warning. I have traveled long way in a short time. From leading a regular, smooth sailing family - work life, suddenly I had to fly 10,000 miles over 40,000 feet across 10 time zones, from a comfortable 80 degrees (25°C) to 110 degrees (42°C) in couple of days, heavy headed because of lack of sleep due stress and family bereavement. I was feeling like a confused, walking zombie when I stepped out of the Bhubaneswar Airport. And my journey didn't end there. It was just the beginning. In less than 48 hours my world seems to have turned upside down.

It was far from a normal arrival at home. For the first time in my life I wasn't welcomed with the usual cheerfulness, rather cries and sobbings. I missed my mom's smile, standing at the doorstep, embracing me saying "TU JHADI JAICHU, KALA PADI JAICHU (How much have you thinned, looking dull). There would be hardly any visible sign of my weight loss and I am expected to look dull after a long, gruelling travel across the globe. This time I could feel the void left by her. I may be the apple of your eyes, you are my star in the heaven. 

Even in her death my mother was looking fair and lovely, for she has a very fair skin color and envy of many for her fair complexion, something much cherished. She was lying cold and quite, at peace with herself. When I saw her my teary eyes burst like a dam. She was attired in a Red Saree, Sindoor (vermillion) and covered in marigold flowers during the visitations. Many ladies in our locality came and touched her feet, for it is believed that touching feet of a woman who passed away before her husband's is auspicious. 

The summer sun was blazingly hot, pouring fire at noon. But fortunately it didn't feel so bad as it was breezy. Always wished my next trip to Puri to spend time with family in some luxury resort. Never thought myvisit to the temple township will be to cremate my mother. As Tom Hanks famously said - "Life is like a box of chocolates. You do not know what you are going to get".

SWARGADWAR (Gateway to Heaven) of Puri is a well known cremation ground. It is believed that if one get cremated there, the person gets a straight ticket to heaven. The venue was quite busy with several pyres burning, one body arriving after another. The process has been streamlined these days. Swirling smoke was spiraling up in the air, slowly thinning, melting away into the gusty sea breeze. It reminded me that eventually all your money, power and fame one day will go up in smoke and it will be just the ashes which will remain as residue. 

I, being the only son had to follow the long list of rituals needed at the cremation ground. I was very bad at it. But when I repeated a Sanskrit phrase after him before lighting the funeralpyre, the priest complimenting me saying - "You have a good menory". The first step was to take a dip in the sticky, salty sea water of the Bay of Bengal, followed by lighting my mother's funeral pyre with MUKHAGNI (fire to the mouth to ignite pyre). In minutes her body was consigned to flames, leaving only her memory etched inside me forever. The sight and the vastness of the sea reminded me how transactional is our life. A burst of sea breeze bore the testimony of life gone with the wind. I heard of the term SMASHANA BAIRAGYA (the bereavement detachment). In last 48 hours, I realized it having traversed a long way.