Purbo Bangal Diaries- Part 2- The Sitakund Hills

Part 1 of the diaries is available here.

Yesterday was Renjini's B'day. And I was not in Delhi. I have resolved that these are occasions that I most certainly will not miss in the times ahead.

Ever since I knew I was coming to Chittagong, I have nursed this desire to go to the temples of Sitakund, including the Shakti Peetha. And yesterday was the day.

Friday is an off-day here and we set out, late in the morning to the hills. As we were foreigners, we were being charged a huge amount of money to take the easier route via the eco-park. We chose to take the more difficult path and decided to trek up the hills.

So, we set out in a group of 6 and 2 of them, seeing the height at which the temple was located, backed out.

The four of us began our trek- it was much more difficult than we thought. The slopes were steep, very steep in places (one is forced to bend down and take the support of the rock in front and then climb up).

The winds were strong and I thought I could actually hear the sound of the waves of the sea which was visible on the horizon. There was hardly anybody in the hills and in the entire journey up and down, we would have seen/ met not more than 10 pilgrims.

We staggered up the hill- our trek punctuated with plenty of breaks. I have shot some videos of the trek- you will hear no voice over though as none of us had the energy to speak.

Our first milestone was a Shiva temple. Located on one of the hill tips, this place was conspicuous by the silence and peace that pervaded not just the temple interiors, but the immediate area around. When I reached the Shivalinga in the temple, I fell in front of the lord and the few seconds of prostration took away the tiredness of the last 2.5 hours of the trek.

It is in this temple that I ended up having a long conversation with a Baba who was taking care of the temple. He spoke in Bengali, interspersed with English words. I spoke in English and Hindi, interspersed with Bengali words.

I think we both understood what the other said.

After about what I think was 30 minutes, I touched the feet of the Baba and sought his permission to move to the Chandranath hills, the site of the ShaktiPeetha. He blessed me and wished me a safe journey ahead.

My friends were waiting patienly for me, perhaps enjoying their own moments of silence and peace in the area. With renewed energy we walked towards the Shakti Peetha.

There is a magnificient view of the countryside from atop the Chandranath hills. The Bay of Bengal lies on the west and one sees the green of the hills and the villages on the other sides.

The Pujari of the temple greeted us warmly and we spent sometime praying in the temple. He spoke fondly of his trip to Chennai and the temples around.

We received news here that one of our friends who could not climb up the hills was feeling unwell.

There was no more time to enjoy the hills. We had to rush down and we did .

The temple of Swayambunath/ Shambhunath was open and we had a quick darshan here. The temple of Bhavani (right at the base of the hills) was closed and outside, I prayed to her for permission for me to visit her on this trip again.

We set out towards the city and had our food on the way- the most delicious food I have had on this trip in a vegetarian restaurant, perhaps the only one I have seen so far in my brief stay here.

This blog entry is dedicated to my friends Sumit and Satpal. Also to our guide on the trip, Mr. Radhakrishnan.

Purbo Bangal diaries- Part 1- The Legend of Masterda

I am here in the land of Master Da, a.k.a., Surya Sen.

Baba Alauddin was here... Sarat Chandra was born here.

When I landed in Chittagong last week, I saw, from up above, the Jalalabad hills that dotted the landscape. Those young revolutionaries of 1930 would have gone into the forests in these hills to hide. Some of them were killed by the Brits.

When I stepped on this land, I could feel the presence of these great lovers of the land here.

Ah, well, the romanticism died soon after- the presence of some touts at the airport did the job.

This really huge Toyota vehicle was waiting for me at the airport. Probably one more of the seconds from Japan, I thought- and right, I was.

This is a huge market for second hand vehicles from Japan. And, perhaps the biggest market for ship breaking.

The week has been largely uneventful, except that I have had the chance to work with some wonderful people from back home, and here.

Today I met this gentleman whose father knew Surya Sen- they were from the same village. When I told him that I am keen on visiting the memorial of Surya Sen and the other greats who were a part of that legendary chapter in Indian history, he was more than keen to tell me about places and also, stories.

While I share below some excerpts from the stories he narrated, I will never be able to deliver justice to the emotion in his voice. Here is the story of the aftermath of the the revolution, as he told me..

"The British came to look for him in our village. He was staying with his Mama, Netra Sen at that time. The first time they came to look for him, he was dressed in a Sari, they did not recognise him and went away. The next time they came, he was a fisherman and the next time a farmer. Then the British announced a reward of 50 taka. Netra Sen was tempted and he informed the British of Masterda's location. When Masterda was being arrested and taken away, the entire village, almost 1500 of them assembled...some were crying... Masterda told them not to cry and promised them- "before my neck goes into the noose, we will have the traitor Netra Sen's head"... And so it was to be.

Netra Sen bought a big fish with 2 taka of his reward and was about to eat it when his mother taunted him for having betrayed his own nephew. It was at this time that one of Masterda's friends came, hacked him and took away his head.

Later on, Masterda was hanged in Andamans."

And then he proceeds to ask me about the Andamans...

I was reading this site later and chanced upon the last letter written by Masterda (link given at the bottom of the page on the website). I have a deep desire to go to this park in the Jalalabad area where they have the busts of the revolutionaries as a memorial (the same gentleman who narrated the story tells me that the park is still there).

Tomorrow I have an off... My friends and I are being taken on a local tour- to the temples in Sitakunda... More on that once I come back.

For today I leave you with an incident that gave me a deja vu of the time i landed in Dubai (read this if you have the time and inclination) -  I was standing in the immigration queue at the Dhaka airport last Saturday. I was chatting with my Dad on the phone when the man behind me in the queue asked me, "Malayali aanalle?" ("you are a Malayali?"). I was thrilled to bits to hear this language, here in Dhaka.

And more thrilled that the gentleman who is taking us out tomorrow... is from Kerala too...

Long live NRKs (Non Resident Keralites)...

Kumbhaabhishekam 2013 @ Tirunelveli

This is the place where the family deity has stood for hundreds of years, if not thousands of years. This is the place where my ancestors prayed. This is the place where my children and grandchildren shall pray. Naysayers may have their views, but I choose to believe.

The Madhyaaranayeswara Saastha temple or the Nadukkavudaiyaar Saastha Kovil has been the guardian deity of my family for generations. Amongst the many photos of Gods and Goddesses that adorn our Pooja room at home, I have been familiar with the painting of Dharmasaastha at home, flanked by Poornaambal and Pushkalaambal on either side. As I grew up I realized that this painting and the temple were special- almost like the poster of that one hero who is more special than the rest.

I recall distinctly that it was only post my teens that I first realized my “connect” with the place. Whenever I visit the place, I am filled with some positive energy which I cannot quite describe. It was here in this temple that we celebrated my Grandfather’s 80^th birthday and Dad’s 60^th birthday. It was here that I was administered the Moola Mantra of the deity- an initiation that was special, for I was initiated by my Periappa (Dad’s elder brother). Every special occasion in our lives has been followed by a visit to this temple- the day of my Upanayanam (sacred thread initiation ceremony)... the first visit after marriage…

My first memory of this temple dates back to the late 80’s. I was there for a Kumbhaabhishekam- a temple festival that happens typically once every 12 years. In the words of an erudite uncle of mine, it is a method in which the temple gets recharged, just as a battery is recharged.

I belong to a sect that believes in a formless God and one may smile at the thought that even we believe in having to “recharge a temple”.

Well, that debate is for a separate day. Perhaps, I am not the one best equipped to dialogue on this issue.

So yes, I go back to the first memory. I recollect seeing those eagles that arrive during the actual moment of the Abhishekam. I recollect the joy in people’s faces when they saw this sight. For the believers, the sight of the eagles at the end of the Kumbhaabhishekam is an auspicious sign.

For the rationalists, you may be surprised at this that in a place that sees no eagles, almost without fail, at the end of each Kumbhaabhishekam, these eagles fly over the Gopuram of the temple.

It was Déjà vu’ for me this Friday when I saw those eagles again- three of them.

Spiritual connect aside, this day was also a chance to reconnect with relatives, meeting new relatives and new friends.

A day very well spent…

reflecting on 2012

Another year goes by.

As with every other year that passed  by and shall pass by, some significant and insignificant happenings in my life too... Some that impacted me and some that did not...

Let me try and narrate to you some of the most significant ones this year.

The year began with Gautam getting married. So, in my set of closest friends from school, he was the first to bite the bullet. So, this year we welcomed Radhika into the family.

It was my turn next. It was time to welcome Renjini into the family. I coughed my way into the marriage mandapam and had the 2 most tiring days of my life during my marriage in April. As with probably every man, I am seeing newer facets of me every single day ever since. I will always remember the days of my engagement and marriage with great joy (notwithstanding the stress) for almost everybody who matters to me turned up and meeting them all under one roof was blissful.

With the honeymoon to the Andamans, I kept a 10 year promise to the place that has a very very special place in my heart.

Pankaj got married too this year and it was time to welcome Neha into the family.

This year also reminded me that I have not lost my eccentricities yet. My decision to resign from my job with no concrete offer in hand could be termed brave or foolhardy- only time will tell. As we speak today, it is 57 days since I resigned. I have another 34-35 days to formalize my next move.

I entered the triple X club when I celebrated my XXX birthday the week before last. Maybe its the age, but I like to consider the Indian Tithi as my birthday these days rather than the English DoB.

I went to Tirupati for only the 2nd time in my life and the first time as an adult. I went to South Africa for the first time...

New friends entered my life and I lost touch with old ones- hopefully, I shall reconnect with some tomorrow.

The last week has been difficult. Sachin Tendulkar retired from the one-day format. While it was a known fact that this may happen anytime, the feeling of being robbed of a last chance to watch him in the limited overs format is a very difficult feeling to overcome.

A lady who was gang-raped by 6 people in a moving bus in Delhi dropped her body last week. I do not know her- I do not even know her name. Yet I feel a sense of loss too, just as many other Indians feel at her death.

And like many other Indians, I too feel like I am in the dock at her death, nay murder. Anyways....

The beginning of next year looks promising- Scientist got engaged and is getting married in February. In the same month, I will have a new job, maybe even a new career.

I wish we all have great times ahead in 2013 and beyond. My prayer for you, me and everybody this new year is from the RigVeda-

Aano Bhadra Kritavo Yantu Vishwataha ( Let noble thoughts come to us from all sides)

King Viv & The Fire

I was about 3 years old when I remember first having heard "West Indies" and "Viv Richards". These names became familiar as I grew up.

I grew up in a village where one of the most exciting changes in routine was to listen to commentary or even watching some matches live of India playing other countries. Days of absolute unpolluted joy.

When my friend E told me about a documentary on the West Indian cricket of the 70's and 80's I was excited- more excited that this was releasing in Indian theatres.

"Fire in Babylon" is an absolute must watch for different categories of people.

For lovers of cricket this feature is a beautiful trip back into the past-the days of transition in the 70's; the days when the pace battery from the Caribbean islands ruled the game. It provides you snippets from different matches and views of some of the members of the team of those years. It also gives you snapshots of how the regular West Indian feels about those years. It leaves you, though, yearning for more- some snap shots of what others felt about this team would have given it a more wholesome feel- their opponents, their future generations (e.g., Walsh, Ambrose, Lara, even Gayle) and others.

For students of sociology, culture and history, this feature speaks of how one small aspect of life can impact the mood of a nation, or nations as the case is- here. Those of us who have read about apartheid will understand the gravity of this that supremacy in this sport gave the West Indians at least one solid reason to tell the others that they are equals. For the kids who have not read about this or have no idea about this, just look around you when a Sachin scores well some day- a century maybe. All else is forgotten on such days.

For those of us who belong to the generation of the 80's born, the desert storm series in '98 of Sachin routing the Australians or again when a Laxman and a Dravid defied the Aussies some years later  at Calcutta would be moments that are un-erasable from our collective memories. Go back to those days, relive the mood ... Remember what these did to the national mood.

For all the kids and teens out there, Fire in Babylon is something you should definitely see. You will learn about the strength of character...and of courage. When a Vivian Richards says that he was given a blank cheque to play in South Africa and he refused (he also tells you why), you know that here you are looking at a man or at men who rise beyond being mortals- these are legends. Those last few clippings of Richards and Botham hugging each other and walking alongside after a hard day of cricket also tells you of how one should treat your opponents- these are not enemies. You also learn about vulnerabilities when you have a Colin Croft speaking to you about how cricket was his livelihood and what made him decide to play in South Africa. These are stories you must know- you must hear.

Personally for me, I always had a great deal of respect for Richards. There are many others who I now hold in very high esteem- I never knew about the story of Greenidge or of Lloyd's background. I am glad I know now- at least a bit.

This week you have an option of watching other movies in the hall- an over-hyped burfy and a boring Heroine. If you have the time, go visit the nearest hall that screens Fire in Babylon. I saw it yesterday and there were about 15 people in the hall.

This is one story that should not go unseen...

Happy Birthday, Advik

You have heard this cliche before, "time & tide wait for none".

There are those occasions in life which, like milestones on a road, tell you that you have entered from one phase of your life to another, or that you are growing old. Some of these reminders are loud and clear (graduating from college, joining a new job, getting married) and some, hmm, some would say are more subtle (the silver coloured hair on your head and on the beard).

Those of who who have been following this blog for the last few years may remember this post.

E & Vibha had a baby boy last year- Advik. It is Advik's birthday today. Here's wishing Advik a very happy birthday and a prayer that he has a long, meaningful and happy life :-)

When I planned to write this blog today, I remembered the earlier blog-post (mentioned above) on E's roka.That post is just over half a decade old.

July ki pehli baarish

Pseudo poetry is the only way in which I can express an angst. I am no longer the student who could arrange for/ lead protests. Don't look for metre or rhyme here- this is just an angst expressed.

Poora June nikal gaya,

Ek boond baarish ki nahi tapki.

Rui jaise baadal aasmaan pe dikh jaate hain kabhi,

Magar aisa lagta hai ki jaise

Baarish ke dhaage bune nahi hain abhi.

Aisa lagta hai baarish hartaal pe hai abhi!

Kal raat Gurgaon mein jamke baarish hui.

Sadak pe parivahan ruk sa gaya.

Tapakti boondon ki awaaz reh gayi ansuni,

Ek kolaahal sa mach gaya.

Aisa nahi laga ki boondein dharti ko choom rahi hain.

Aisa laga ki jaise boondein dharti ko chubb si rahi hain.

Na jaane kyun aisa laga ki,

Is baar ye baarish dharti ki pyaas ko dekhkar,

Us pyaas ko bujhaane nahi aayi hai.

Na paed hai yahaan, na paudhe.

Aankhen hariyaali ki ek jhalak ke liye taras si jaati hain.

Jahaan talak nazar jaati hai,

Sirf eent-cement ke imaarat dikhte hain,

Aur diesel se janitr dhuaan.

Aisa laga ki jaise,

Dharti ki tadap ko samajhkar,

Aasman bhaavuk sa ho gaya.

Uske palak jo abhi tak baandh se bane huey the,

Woh  toot se gaye.

Aankhon se kuch aansoo ke boond gire zameen par,

Yahaan Gurgaon ke log khushi manaa rahe hain.