My pet dog Somu

It was a stormy evening in my village, when I was leisurely enjoying the Cartoon Network Channel, say The Scooby Doo Movies and The Popeye Show.

uuuoooon....uuuoooonnn...uuuooooo.....uuuuoooooonnnn....

I barely cared.

The TV and my mom's scolding continued to play. My father was cursing for not letting him to watch the 8'O clock news. We thought News was the ugliest thing which could occur on such an entertaining device. A singular face, looking at us like a moron and moving the lips uttering unusual sounds was boring to the core.

uuuoooon....uuuoooonnn...uuuooooo.....uuuuoooooonnnn....

I tried to care a little and then dropped the idea of finding where this very familiar sound is coming from, in this stormy evening. Because I know, if I attend to it, it will become of burden of responsibility. I tried to concentrate on my own troubles like, how Im gonna handle my Tamil teacher the next morning, for I didnt complete the imposition. I was devising many techniques to spend as little time at home as possible, in doing things which in any remote way is related to school.

uuuoooon....uuuoooonnn...uuuooooo.....uuuuoooooonnnn....

uuuoooon....uuuoooonnn...uuuooooo.....uuuuoooooonnnn....

Impulse drove me out in the direction of that sound. There laid, in the adjacent plot, amidst wet sand and mud, a poor little light brownish living thing, which elders of our place use to call 'a dog'. I dont know how it happened to come there, who was its mom or which Rakshas left it there. All I wanted to do was to feed it with little warm milk and bring it home and make it feel little cozy. I went out and looked at it and observed it closely. My brother with umbrella in his hands, extended it involuntarily to cover the pup from rain. The pup little raised its poor eyebrows and looked at us. There was a thousand words in that one look. It said....

Oh! Atlast some mercy in the world.....
Please.... Give me some food and shelter....
Who are you guyz? Are you gonna hurt me? Please dont....Ill myself die in another few minutes...
And many other words in just one look...

I was in my VIII class by then. I had to get permission from my mom for doing anything new. My mom came out and looked at us critically, asked a few questions about it and asked us to leave it there and come in coz it was raining. It was not a high quality breed but the common type found on South Indian roadside. The highly disgusting animal for many Indian households. But for me and my brother, it looked like a poor living thing appealing for some food and life, which were its birthright. I searched for its mom, the only thing which can wipe of the sorrow in just a second.

Then we decided to give it some shelter below the staircase which leads to the terrace of our house. We picked two old gunny bags and made a bed for it. I brought a kottankuchi, after ensuring that none of the eyes of the wooden cup are open, poured little milk into it and took it towards the mouth of the creature. It smelled the milk and rose upon its feet and drank it hungrily. With every lick of the milk the creature made, I was growing happy as if my tummy was getting full. It finally licked it and cleaned its new wooden cup, rolled its tongue around its mouth, raised its head and looked at us. We tried it with little more milk. It worked only to half the cup and then it went to sleep for the night. Fully satisfied of the good deed I did for the night, I slept happily.

From next morning we started feeding it daily and without knowing we adopted it as our pet. The pup chose the space below the staircase as its home and we could always find it there. It got used to our faces and voices. I was surprised and happy and grateful all at once when my mom gave me an old plastic bowl as a plate for the pup.

Namakaranam: A week later, it became part of our family. We were calling it 'Naai kuty'. But its not the usual practice with pets. That evening we discussed and finally chose the name as 'Somu' (because Ramu was a very common dog name in those days and we didn't want to copy bcoz it was not exam time).

Another week slowly wagged off... sorry... went by....
And Somu got used to its name. We often call it by name and rejoice when it turns its head in the direction of the voice calling its name. Ill do all experiments. Ill go to the backyard, terrace, verandah window and try call its name, to double check whether it accepted its name and knows that. I felt proud when it responds for its name coz Im the one who converted it from a 'Naai kutty' to Somu.

After months, people in the locality started accepting the pup too and to add to my happiness they too called it Somu. I sometimes proudly share the namakaranam experience with the other children of the locality. They also started feeding it. Somu slowly became our locality's dog. Everyday, it will get food in some house. But wherever it went, it came to its home for sleeping. Daily night we will spend some time together sitting out. Somu will also sit with us and listen to us. We were not sure if it understood when we talked about it. One evening it saved us from a big bug (Nattuvaakkaali) bite. Whenever we come home after a long absence, vooowh... it will act crazy licking all of us, coming round and round, uttering crazy sounds.

A neighbourhood kid used to sit on it and go for a Naai savaari.  It never bites anyone. It was a warm and friendly dog to everyone. Atlast one day it was killed by a pig shepherd in the midnight because it used to be a hindrance for the pigs to cross our area. Pitifully we buried it near the paddy fields. I was again surprised when my mom cried on its death and I didnt. Of course I was very sad and eventually I forgot. But whenever I see that guy, I mean that pig shepherd I get the memories of my Somu.

Is that just another day? The April 8th 1986?????

My grandma (mom's mom) was dead when my mom was six months pregnant. So my mom was sent to Trichy to her elder sister's house, who obviously took charge of the midwife post.
I, who did not know (till now) where from I came to my mom's womb, who did not know anything happening in the outside world, was silently awaiting the D-Day.

The D-Day came and it happened to be my birthday. 8th April 1986 in Srirangam, a temple town in Trichy.... I was born (so was I told)....

Today is 5th May 2011 9:30AM Sriperumbudur..... There was ample time between these two singularly peculiar dots on the eternal timeline.... yes... I guess its eternal even to me....

What did I do in all these time? To put frankly, nothing. I just lived (Thank god, I did something atleast). Like any other living thing (I didnt use the word human)....

I lived... I took some food, grew, went to school, tried to learn something about the world around me sought all sort of happiness, and kept doing it over and over....(I dont remember asking why I was sent to school... All children of my age were going to school.... If I didnt go, that wud ruin my life... I will not have the material advantages like others... I will be an odd man out... My mom and dad did not either asked the question... why should a child be sent to school? Why? Seeking the answer to that one logical question wud have given answers to many unanswered questions which followed....But no one did.... Neither did I)

At the same time in a remote jungle in some remotest part of India, was born a monkey (on the same D-Day).... It was not sent to shcool... It was taught by its mom and dad and friends how to jump and climb... How to do whatever it is supposed to do... It ate, grew, sought all sort of happiness.

Lets take these two living things and compare:

Me on one side and the good monkey on the other side. We both know to eat, grow and seek happiness. So whats the difference?

Monkey is subject to no ethics....Is that good? Monkey knows no good and bad...There is no feeling called guilty in its life... or is there any feeling at all? It can steal from any house for its food... whereas my food is attained thru dharmic means... I was subject to rights and wrongs... Why? Why is there a difference between two living things? No Ill reframe my question. Why is there a difference between all living things and human beings? Why humans are subject to ethics? Who brought about these differences? What good does it make to mankind? What if I go to no job and roam like a hermit and steal and eat wherever I find food and spend my days living a life which would be no different from what Im doing now?? What if everyone does that?

Ok that apart... Does the attainment of ethical resources to attain ethical pleasure does any good to me? Should I continue doing that so that some point of time Ill go to heaven, the very existence of which Im not sure about.

Why????? Well now what's the link between the topic and this content? I was born. What extra did I do when compared to the Monkey. In what way does human life differ from that of any other living thing? Are ethics the only difference? If so what's the use of ethics? I literally didnt know the answer. But there must be something more. I was not born on to die like that monkey does. There must be a HUGE difference between the D-Day and the day I finally close my eyes. Im trying to work on that. I think I confused enough.

Now its time to Jump and climb... C ya..

Summmmmmm.....er

Why this post?
Well....
May be becoz I got bored in this typical summer, sitting in Sriperumbudur, on a rolling chair with this monitor in front of me, typing this post, whereas in my hometown, Manampoondi, a riverside village near Thirukkovilur, following activities happen unnoticed:

School children enjoying the question paper tearing, book dumping, ink sprinkling and shouting ceremony on the last day of Annual Exams,

Thenpennai is totally dry with only the sand mafia bullock carts, (the only indifferent thing in any season), the long forgotten cricket bats are dusted up and brought back to action in many houses, and the agricultural fields in the outskirts are subjected to landscape maintanence work with suddenly sprouting unity among the group.

Power cuts in the scorching noon time makes the entire street and all its houses a playground for Hide n seek to the children who believes that they have got all the time till eternity (one and a half month hardly, coz schools will reopen in June, But the smell of new books and notebook, new uniforms and shoes, new pen... ahh.. that's another post) to play.

Moms pleading the boys to have lunch, Dads scolding them to read math tables.... (Oh Gosh.. My dad wanted me to recite 16table backwards... I remember wondering if its humanly possible, and till date the only thing I remember is sixteen sixteens are two fifty six)....

Time to explore the dark areas of the village, say the forbidden hill, the haunted white building near the railway track, the river underneath the steel bridge which is rumoured to have no bed at all etc.(what du think? The children are up one standard by next year... They are growing)

Time for travelling to relatives' houses and playing with cousins.... Time to explore other villages too... There may be a new girl in the neighbourhood of cousin's houses who also has to come to vacation..

Oh... Sorry... Boss calling....GTG.... Happy summer schoolkids... :-(

A world of Books and a company of words

It started when I was studying third standard in Thirukkovilur.

It was a friday evening, in the year 1993 (I dont remember the month).  I dropped my overweighing school bag in one corner and rushed to get rid of the uniform thing.   My mom was busy in the kitchen making coffee.  The aroma of the coffee always reminds me that everything is OK at home and it sort of rejunuvates the tiresome typical school boy in me.

It was a melancholy evening for me, though the following Saturday and Sunday are holidays. I thought "Oh! wat to do with my time in hand? I have no homework to do, no exams approaching, I have two days holdiay, Tomorrow I will go and play hide n seek in the temple backyard, Sunday, I will watch TV and play cricket....All set for two days...But what exactly should I do now? Ok, will try something new..."  and Suddenly my English Text book fell in my view... A week back my English teacher had read us a story from that book. I found it interesting at that time. I was keenly listening. Even as a child, I remember myself as a moody and reserved kind of a schoolboy. But inside I always looked for something interesting to wonder upon.

Soothingly warm steam from the coffee with its aroma relaxed me and I was just reading the story which my teacher read to our class. The story was about an adventurous boy who goes on a tour with his uncle and cousin, accidentally finds treasure box from a haunted house after escaping various dangers.
Exactly that was the time when my mind got haunted by haunted things.

From then on, whenever I felt boredom, loneliness, sad, happy, or whatever feeling which can occur to an 8 year old friendless moody kid, I started reading stories which are in some way either adventurous or ghostly. Every bit of spare time I got, I entered into this imaginary world built of books.  Sitting in one place in my room, I travelled to Arabia alongwith Sindbad, got shipwrecked with him and brought back treasures to home, Went to wonderland with Alice, Played the prince in Cinderella and Sleeping beauty, acted the invisible friend to Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, and lots more... I also picked up my classmate girls as cinderella, snow white or Rebecca Thatcher... No they didnt know till date that I picked them up as my heroines in my imaginations.... All these I did, sitting in a corner.... I enjoyed that fantasy. These characters soothed my friendless soul. I started building a dreamworld with these characters.

And till today it continues... Very recently, I read The Scarlet Pimpernal.... And it continues to be my all time favourite...You know what... Sometimes I try to imitate Percy Blakeney but only when Im alone. Otherwise I dont want to lose my self. Sometimes I even thought, what if I became a split personality. But I believe nothing happened as yet. Now, I dont want to miss the theme. I enjoyed so much these books and the wor(l)ds in it that I became addicted to them.

Once when I was sitting with Sherlock Holmes in the Baker Street, London in the year 2009, my friend suddenly woke me up. "Oh! It was just a dream good God", I said to myself.

Whenever I find that there is no interesting books around, I started writing. Writing reduced my stress, brough me down and made corrections when I was too much flying high, and brought me up when I was drowning deep. When writing, I started to write for me and only me. The words proved to be best companions when lonely. Most of the times I dont know what to write, but still I write about the vagueness of my mind. After writing I feel like the burden shifted to the paper from my drooping shoulders. Days passed in the company of words and books. Paper became my dumb companion, Words became my wise friend and books my world!!!  This world of books is so virtual that the real pain also seemed to be virtual. What is more interesting is that the real world itself started seeming virtual.

Days rolled on like that and lately, I started picturizing myself as a charecter in this book world. I started observing myself very keenly, standing outside of me, like an author studying his prospective characters from real life. I started thinking my day-to-day events as pages in a Book. It felt like I was not living my life but just filling the pages in my lifebook. Allowing God to make a novel with me the protagonist. It passed thru various chapters say thriller, romantic love story and comedy.


I am loving it too. With the very thought that its just happening in a story written by the Greatest author, life moves on.... It will....

Tamizhkaar

தமிழக்கார்காலம்:
கார்காலம் என்றுமே அழகு தான். இந்த எளிய தொடக்கத்தை மழை விரும்பிகள் விரும்ப மாட்டார்கள் என்பதை நான் அறிந்திருக்கிறேன். ஆனாலும் மழையின் அழகு புலவர்களின் திறனையே வற்ற வைத்திருக்கிறது. நான் புலவன் அல்லவே.
தமிழ் நாட்டில் நிலங்களை ஐவகையாக பிரித்திருந்தனர். குறுஞ்சி முல்லை மருதம் நெய்தல் பாலை. இந்த ஐவகை நிலங்களும் பண்டை தமிழகத்தில் கார் காலத்தில் எப்படி இருந்திருக்கும் என்று ஒரு நாள் விட்டத்தை பார்த்தபடி எண்ணியிருந்தேன். பண்டை தமிழனின் மூளைக்குள் குடிபுகுந்து அவனுடைய கண் ஜன்னல்களில் வாயிலாக பண்டை தமிழகத்தை எட்டி பார்க்க வேண்டும் போலிருந்தது. அப்பொழுதும் வெளியில் மழை கொட்டிக்கொண்டிருந்தது. திருக்கோவிலூரில் உள்ள என் வீட்டின் பெட்ரூமில் அமர்ந்து கொண்டு, சூடான காபியை குடித்துகொண்டே என் கற்பனை குதிரையை காலச்சக்கரத்தில் பின்னோக்கி ஒடச்செய்தேன். மூளைக்குள்ளிருக்கும் எந்த பொருளுக்குமே விதிகள் இல்லையே. குதிரை பெரிதாக சிரமப்படவில்லை.

இடம் : கொல்லி மலைச்சாரல்
காலம்: கார்
நேரம்:  வைகறை

அப்பொழுதே விட்டிருந்த மழையின் தாக்கம் இன்னும் அந்த மலைகளில் காணப்பட்டன. மரங்களில் ஈரம் இன்னும் உலரவில்லை. பறந்து விரிந்த அந்த ஆலமரத்தின் இலைகள் இன்னும் மழை நீரை சொட்டவிட்டு கொண்டிருந்தன.

மழை காலங்களில் எல்லா உயிர்களும் தேடும் ஒரு பொருள், அடைக்கலம்.

மனிதன் தோன்றும் முன்னரே அந்த மலைகளில் ஆதிக்கம் செலுத்திய குரங்கினங்கள் மலைக்குகைகளில் தஞ்சம் புகுந்திருந்தன. குகைகளின் வெப்பமும் வெளியில் உள்ள மழையும் என்ன ஒரு இதமான கலவை அவைகளுக்கு. செழித்து வளர்ந்த மலைக்காடுகளில் உணவுக்கோர் பஞ்சமில்லை. மரங்களை சொந்தம் கொள்வோர் எவருமில்லை. இயற்கை அமைத்து தந்த அந்த வீடுகளில் தங்கள் வாழும் கடமையை நிவர்த்தி செய்ய தடைகளும் ஒன்றுமில்லை. எங்கும் இன்பமயம்.

மலைச்சாரலில் அந்த சிற்றூர் இன்னும் துயிலெழவில்லை. ஆதவன் புவியின் விளிம்பில் எட்டிப்பார்த்த பொழுது, மலையுலகம் சப்தமின்றி உறக்கத்தில் ஆழ்ந்திருந்தது. அந்த உறக்கம், புணர்ச்சி இன்பத்தின் நீட்டிப்பு என்பதை ஆதவன் உணர்ந்திருந்தான் போலும். வழக்கத்திற்கு மாறாக மெல்ல உதிக்கலாணன். கதிரவனின் வெளிச்சம் படவே மெல்ல தேனீக்களின் ரீங்காரம் தொடங்கியது. காலை மணி அடித்தாற்போல மற்ற உயிர்கள் துயிலெழுந்து சோம்பல் முறித்தன. ஈரவாசதால் ஒரு புத்துணர்வு படலத்தை உலகக்கன்னியின் மீது போர்த்தினான் வருணன்.. வெட்கி தலை குனிந்தாள் அவள்... அந்த வெட்கத்தால் சிவப்பேறிய கன்னங்களை போல் இருந்தது இந்த குறிஞ்சி நிலப்பகுதி.

உயிரோட்டத்தின் மூலமே நீரோட்டம் தான்... அம்மலை உச்சியில் விழுந்து, பாறைகளில் மோதி தெறித்து, பல ஜீவாராசிகளின் உயிரை எழுப்பி, அவைகளின் சிற்றுடலின் தாகம் தனித்தது புதுமழை..
என்றோ விழுந்து மண்ணை போர்த்து  உறங்கி கொண்டிருந்த விதைகள், ஒரு நாள் மழை நீரில் ஊறியதால் சட்டென்று முளைத்து வானை பார்த்து வெகுளியை சிரித்தன..

நீருக்கு நிறமில்லை என்பது உண்மை தான்... ஆனால் மழைக்கு நிறமுண்டு...பச்சை... உயிரின் நிறமும் அதுவாகத்தான் இருக்கவேண்டும்...மொத்தமாய் உலகத்தையே நீராட்டும் மழைத்தாய் பச்சை ஆடை போட்டு அழகு பார்க்கிறாள்..

எங்கெங்கோ விழுந்து மண்ணுடன் கலந்து தழுவி ஓரிடத்தில் கூடி செந்நிற சிற்றோடையாக அந்த சிற்றூருக்குள் வந்தது புது நீர்.. குறமகளிர், புதிய நீர் தோய்ந்த ஈர மண்ணில் கால் வைத்ததால், தங்களின் தண்டுவடத்தில் பாய்ந்த சீதள மின்சாரத்தில் மேலும் மெருகேறி அழகு மிளிர்ந்த முகங்களுடன் தங்கள் தலைவனை துயில் எழுப்பினர்.

புதிய உலகம் கிடைத்த களிப்பின் மிகுதியை தத்தம் தலைவியருடன் ஜீரணித்து கொண்டிருந்தனர் குரவர்கள்.. இன்பத்தின் உச்சி எப்படி இருக்கும் என்பதை அறியத்தொடங்கினர் அவர்கள்.. தேனும் மலைக்கனிகளும் பலா மரங்களும் காத்துக்கொண்டிருந்தன அவர்களுக்கு விருந்தளிக்க.. இன்பம் என்னும் உலக உணர்விற்கு அப்பால் இருக்கும் விஷயங்களை சிந்திக்க வேண்டிய சூழ்நிலையை அமைத்து கொடுத்த மழைக்கு நன்றி தெரிவித்துக்கொண்டனர் சிந்தனையாளர்கள்... ஊர் என்று ஒன்று இருந்தால் அங்கு சிந்தனைகளும் இருக்கத்தான் வேண்டும்... ஊர்க்கோடியில் கட்டியிருந்த முருகன் கோவிலில் "இன்பத்திற்கு பின்?" என்ற கேள்விக்கு விடை தேடி சென்றார்கள்...
( குறிஞ்சி நிலம் புணர்தலும் புணர்தல் நிமித்தமும் என்ற உரிப்பொருளுக்கே உகந்தது.. அதனால் இன்பத்தை தலையான உணர்வாக வைத்து கற்பனை செய்து பார்த்தேன் )
குறிஞ்சி முற்றும்.