Kadmanivasi. My Blog. Geeta Ramani

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...

Who will become a millionaire? This programme aired on prime-time TV in India, provides some clues. ‘Kaun Banega Karodpati’ is a unique game show, a quiz contest, which pits contestants against an all-knowing computer. The host is truly the anchor, he provides stability and confidence during an uncertain situation. The show is driven by both, the contestants and the host. After watching a few episodes, I believe that none of the contestants come to the sets, wanting to become a millionaire. They have only one aim and that is to reach the hot seat. Some achieve this by chance or good fortune. Others get there by design, through sheer effort.  From here on, we get a peek into their lives -   enlightening, entertaining and often enigmatic! They keep the viewers engrossed.  And when they fail, the host Mr. Amitabh Bachchan takes over. He brings to the show, his own charismatic brand of energy, enthusiasm, and empathy, oftentimes, worthy of emulation.  ...

Having just read 'Open', the true and inspiring story and acclaimed autobiography of Andre Agassi, I felt re-assured, in my belief, that only effort carves one’s destiny. Andre worked like no other, single minded, pursuing his father’s dream which became his own. Although,  it is true, that not all effort is rewarded so abundantly, yet I believed that no destiny can be shaped without effort. The next book that I read, shook this core belief. Another poignant autobiography that made me rethink. I have just completed a marathon reading session of the book, 'A Long Way Home' by Saroo Brierly. It is the story of the author's life, who lost his way as a five-year-old and found himself in Kolkata. He spent several months roaming about in the city, until a good soul took him to the police station. From here begins his extra ordinary journey to a Children’s home and finally adoption by an Australian family. At 25, he writes about his search home, to...

                                                                  Rain, rain, go away! come back another day.         I need to fill my nut cache, Fall is on its way!         Beech, Hickory, Hazel.....Hurray!         The nuts in the garden, my buffet!          It was all good till the month of May,          When Grama and Gramp came on holiday.                                                                                    They watched over me .......night and day      ...

A  new Hindi Entertainment Channel, Investigation Discovery -ID, made its appearance in India in 2014. I had watched some episodes of this channel on my visit to London the previous year. It was a dramatized version of real life episodes and one wondered if truly any god fearing human being ever lived on this earth! It was a challenge to watch mankind at its worst- in episode after episode. The detectives had little to go by, they built clue upon clue, gathered witness and circumstantial evidence, and tried to solve the crime and nail the guilty Upon its introduction in India, the ID channel was advertised as a ‘hit in the US and one of its fastest-growing channels’. Internal research had shown the channel had potential in the country.   The channel producers were confident that ‘these stories relate to anyone who watches it.’ Prophetic words, indeed! Over the last two weeks, every national English news channel seems to have been inspired by it! What is more- the ...

When a fragrance stirs a memory, when berries on trees against a shaft of light takes your attention from the world, when you walk down a path and wonder where it might be going, you step beyond who you are and where you are. For the briefest of instants, you have stepped into the magic realm. I need the magic of memory to conjure magic again. I need to know and remember, and I want to tell you!  Last week end, I attended the wedding of our friend’s son. We were old friends, we had known each other from the time we went to school, and we knew their parents and our brothers and sisters were friends too. Both our families have traveled far away from home since.  So we were eager to meet a lot of old acquaintances from our hometown; many of whom I had seen in school uniform.  Now we had   families of our own, including children and grand children!   I welcomed the guests with flowers, in the traditional South Indian way and was shocked when I was introdu...

Time is the most undefinable yet paradoxical of things; the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present becomes the past even while we attempt to define it, and, like the flash of lightning, at once exists and expires.       Charles Caleb Colton I begin this year, deliberately, with no resolutions but with a determination to enjoy and cherish life, as I bid a bitter-sweet  farewell to the  year that was! Bye 2015, What a year you have been! It began with the sweetest event , the birthday of my grand daughter, little Samyuktha, who  turned one on January 5 th , 2015. The two  families came together and celebrated the occasion. And unknown to us, fate was dealing her secret hand. We were getting ready to forge, another new relationship! That was the first of the three visits last year, of the littlest one! I was witness to every milestone in the first year of her life and like a pupa that struggles to ...

The process of decluttering is painful .  I undertook a marathon decluttering session which lasted over a couple of days. It is heartbreaking to discard personal possessions, many of which are just keep sakes, mementos and reminders of people and places. They are of immense emotional value. Some papers and files find a place to stay,  for you might just need them on a rainy day. Clothes you hope to get into, jars that you might re-use, documents which remind you of things you once possessed and so on and so forth. Over the months I had saved so many things,  not  really out of necessity. I have also realized that clearing out cupboards and shelves, once in a while, helps you remember the things you have and the places in which they have been safely kept. On one of the shelves I found a small slim book of short stories and as soon as I held it in my hand, it started to give way. It was not very old, I have books from a much earlier period, may be this one was...

Over the last few days a lot has been telecast about the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) or the Common Man's Party. Every time the spectre of AAP is aired, I am reminded of Baba Bharti and his majestic horse Sultan; from a story titled, Haar Ki Jeet , I had read in my Hindi text book in primary school. It is the story of a mendicant, named Baba Bharti who used to lead a pious life in the outskirts of a village. His only worldly possession was a grand horse named Sultan. There were many who coveted this horse. One of them was a dacoit named Khadag Singh. When he heard about the horse, he wished to possess it. He was told that Baba Bharti would never sell it or part with it. So if he wanted to own that fine horse, he had to steal it.  One   morning , as Baba Bharti was riding on his majestic horse, he was stopped by a pitiable man, begging for alms. As Baba Bharti slowed down,   the beggar overpowered him, and revealing his identity, the   dacoit said that all he wanted wa...

During the years I attended school, we carried home invitations for our parents, inviting them over for the Annual   School Day or the Sports Day. Our teacher would painstakingly write neatly on the board, ‘ Mrs. & Mr. _______ ’, ask us to take it down on the envelope and complete it by adding our father’s name and surname. She would also specifically mention to add ‘Dr.’ where applicable. One was very particular about spelling for ‘ Dr. Chakraborty ’ would not attend if he was addressed ‘ Dr. Chakravarty’ ! We seemed to have little problem those days as we did not have any other title to worry about. An army unit came much later and I often heard my friends remark how careful they had to be while addressing army personnel! Personally, I have never had any issues for I was used to seeing my mother’s signature which included Smt. (Srimathi, for short) her name followed by my father’s name. When I started signing, I gave up the Srimathi part, writing my own name and my hus...