Kadmanivasi. My Blog. Geeta Ramani

  Celebrate endings - for they precede new beginnings!  This year has been like no other, in more ways than one. As the year comes to a close, it seems to be a good time for reflection and introspection. The corona lockdown was an unavoidable measure to fight the onslaught of the virus and arrest its spread. At first, I found it suffocating, I didn't know how to spend my time indoors. I was terribly saddened by the cancellation of my visit to be with my grand children. Time, as they say, is a great healer and now I have come to enjoy the slow and relaxed pace of life, doing especially all that I enjoy the most. My childhood was marked by an absence of story reading, not story telling. Every night, my grandmother would narrate stories and like the proverbial thousand nights, they would continue the next day. This is how I learnt the stories of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. I loved to read my school text books. I also remember the two books I received as gifts as a child, Li...

  Last children of the Raj: British Childhoods in India 1919–1939  Compiled by Laurence Fleming Introduction by Mark Tully The book is a  celebration of childhood, a fascinating compilation of 'a snapshot of memories' very much like a school magazine with photographs, of foreigners, especially English men and women who had spent their early years here. 'India is not a country that one can forget', writes one. Another says 'One could not have wished for a happier and freer childhood than to have grown up in such privileged circumstances'.  A remarkable feature was that, at least one of their parents was born in India, many had grandparents who were living in India or had worked here, in various capacities. They served as  professors and teachers, nurses and doctors, they were to be found in the Army, Police, and Railways, they served as Forest Officials , Civil Servants, Missionaries, Geographical Surveyors, traders and  engineers. It is inter...

  I have just finished reading the book: CRACKING THE CODE: MY JOURNEY IN BOLLYWOOD, by Ayushmann Khurrana. It is a gem of a book, written with youthful enthusiasm, and a rare wisdom and maturity. Ayushmann's slow, steady and successful rise in stardom brought back memories of another young star, that shone bright, albeit briefly, that of Sushant Singh Rajput. From chasing his dreams to living it - Sushant's life appeared like one dream run! But it was all real, and it was there for all to see.   Several of his videos are testimony to hours of rigorous workout he put in to maintain that chiselled handsome look. The pages in his diary reveal the hours of planning and preparation that went in, not only for the role at hand, but also to achieve personal goals. He was an excellent dancer and a connoisseur of books and comes across as an unusual combination of brawn and brain. He was a student of science, he had a deep understanding of physics, he was a star gazer.  With ...

I have just finished reading "Bihar Diaries" by Amit Lodha, a policeman, who writes about the nexus between the the police, politician and criminal and about his success in eliminating criminal gangs in the state. The 90's were tumultuous times for the state and Jamshedpur too bore the brunt of criminalisation. Inspired by "Bihar Diaries", I write about my experiences, after almost half a century, about run-ins with criminals which disturbed our peaceful existence.   To begin with, newspapers reported incidents of kidnappings and dacoity on a regular basis. One came to learn that Kidnapping served many purposes, from obtaining easy money to a coveted bride or groom of choice, anyone could be snatched at gunpoint. The other profitable haunt of criminals was the train.  During one such night journey to Patna, as the train slowed down, my mother awoke to a strange sight. The comforter, protecting my sick father, was being pulled out of the window. Had my mother del...

"Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a singing bird will come."  Chinese Proverb.  Every time I enter my apartment premises, I get an opportunity to meet my green friends. Rather, the first to greet me is the Lemon tree, near the big black gate. In the beginning, the Lemon tree used to greet me, incognito, because I didn't know who she was. I could barely distinguish between the dark green leaves and the dark green fruit the tree bears. But once they ripened, and acquired yellow hues, they revealed their sweet-sour identity - the Wild Lemon. The thick peels are slightly bitter, the lemon very sour and with the addition of jaggery, the sweet chutney makes a delicious addition to any meal. The others are old friends, I used to know their cousins in Jamshedpur and Nagpur, where I used to live. Standing next in line is the neem tree, her light green leaves swaying in the breeze. They are very valued for their medicinal properties. The very bitter small white flowers a...

A chance remark by my grand daughter sparked off this trilogy.  Here's Part III. For my defense, I say only this : "Just write the truth! But truths are many, and that is the problem. Memory is treacherous, as distinct from history as emotion." Cohen, Roger. “The Girl from Human Street.”  " You can live somewhere for decades, and still in your heart it is no more than an encampment, a place for the night, detached from community."    Roger Cohen Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts. As I sit here in my balcony in Besant Nagar, Chennai, overlooking the lush green trees, typing out my blog, my mind deludes me again  into believing that I'm at home in Jamshedpur. The incessant cawing of a murder of crows brought me out here. Recently,  a nest had been built on the tree and from my vantage point, I could see two soft black heads of the precious baby birds. The parents had protected this pair from rain and storm, and...

A chance remark by my grand  daughter sparked off this trilogy. Here's Part II.   For my defense, I say only this    "Just write the truth! But truths are many, and that is the problem. Memory is treacherous, as distinct from history as emotion.  Cohen, Roger. “The Girl from Human Street.”  "Every human being has a story, and there's power both in the telling and in the listening."                      The Forgotten Hours by Katrin Schumann. My great grandfather's family migrated from Kalpathi village in Palakkad in Kerala in  Southern India to Burmamines in Jamshedpur, the Eastern State of Bihar, now in Jharkhand. Here they found an expanse of green virgin land overlooking the Dalma hills. The golden Subarnarekha river held the promise of prosperity and the rich land was all too familiar! Did it remind them of home? The Kachapeshwar Iyer family grew roots in Jamshedpur.  My grandfather a...

“ People have two deaths, the first at the end of their lives. The second, at the end of the memory of their lives.” Raghu Karnad, ' Farthest Field' A chance remark by my grand daughter sparked off this trilogy.  Here's part I. For my defense, I say only this : "Just write the truth! But truths are many, and that is the problem. Memory is treacherous, as distinct from history as emotion." Cohen, Roger,  'The Girl from Human Street.'  “Naani”, asked my five year old granddaughter, in all her worldly wisdom, “Where are my Great Grandparents?  Do you think they love me?” As I prepared to answer her inquisitive queries, my mind wandered, to my Great Grandparents! Who indeed were they! What a profound chord her innocent words had touched! What did I know of my  great grandfather, who had lived and died before I came into this world! Kachapeshwar Iyer was my great grandfather's name. Eshwar for short. I know for sure. My grandfather carried his name i...

March 23rd, 2020. The day we would begin our annual holiday to spend time with our grandchildren. Eager and ecstatic beyond measure, we were very well prepared this time, having learned a few lessons from our earlier visits. But by the end of February, we started hearing rumblings and by the second week of March, we had to make an informed decision, of either postponing or cancelling this much awaited visit. The corona virus had hit the Earth, and unlike the tsunami of 2011 or the deluge of 2015, its extent was not known. Much like a foreign invasion, we got to hear of its coming  from the TV. The origin and spread of the COVID 19 Corona virus, by now, has been  well documented. Pandemic in nature, it has already claimed an unprecedented number of lives, with hundreds and thousands infected. The recovery rate is encouraging . A possible step to check its march, lies in one hopeful action, a lockdown with social distancing. The poor bear the brunt of it, the elderly are mos...