Kumara Parvata Trek - The Descent

We spent two hours at the peak. Both of us meditated for about forty minutes and attained a degree of tranquility. Later we lunched on the packets of pre-cooked pongal packets of MTR FOOD PRODUCTS. We quenched our thirsts with swigs of buttermilk. Later we headed to the Echo Point – a place where the echo is heard after roughly three seconds. I called out to Bhagya (my wife!) and heard someone calling out to her too!(got to be careful!) Later we set about for the search of Kumara Linga and were lucky to find two of them.

We took a few more photographs of the Shiva Linga and at 1:30 p.m. we decided to begin our descent on our way back to Girigadde.

I was aware that there would be tremendous pressure on the ankles, knees, calf and thigh muscles as I had the prior experience in the Himalayas. But here I was fatigued beyond my calculations as perhaps the slopes are steeper and further, the path is strewn with cobbles and rubbles. Quite often the scree on the hill slopes makes the descent quite perilous. I had to descend very slowly taking great care as to where I place my feet. Ascending the slope is tiring in one way – we run out of breath, but descending the slopes puts tremendous strain on the entire legs. I slipped quite frequently and fell down and landed on by bottom once.

The Forest Guard and his assistant had joined us some time back (they had ascended to clean the muck left behind by the trekkers) and greatly assisted me in the descent. Descending the Sesha Parvata and Batta Rasi peaks were quite exhausting to me. Perhaps youngsters who are much surer of their feet wouldn’t feel as much fatigued. Luckily we had kept diluting the buttermilk at the various sources of water that we had encountered both while ascending and descending. The diluted buttermilk refreshed me more than what plain water did. The reserves of buttermilk and water just ran out as we reached Girigadde at precisely 6:15 p.m.

Thrilled to see Bhattara Mane on our return from Kumara Parvata
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The trek of about 10 km (5 km each way) from Girigadde to Kumara Parvata and back had taken us exactly 12 hours. We were truly glad to see Bhattara Mane from above, and on entering it, I felt that one main objective was attained.

Kumara Parvata Trek (March 25-27, 2010) Continued...

KUMARA PARVATA TREK (Continued)

It was quite late by the time we dined on the night of the 25th March - around 10.00 p.m. Later Mahalinga Bhat, Narayana Bhat and Nagaraj got into an animated conversation of various piquant stories from Indian myths even as I tried to doze off on a foam mattress. The day was tiring and my body craved for sleep but these guys kept on plodding me to pay attention even as I tried to doze off. Finally I declared that I was feeling too sleepy and that I was signing off for the day. The others too decided to follow suit and it was around 11:30 p.m. when we fell off asleep.

We had declared that we intended to have an early breakfast and leave on the trek for the Pushpagiri peak by 6:30 a.m. so Mahalinga Bhat was up by four in the morning to heat up the water for our baths and to prepare breakfast. He had made what is called Neeru Dosa and coconut chutney. They were truly delicious and we gorged on them. Precisely at 6:30 we set out to the Forest Office having equipped ourselves with the necessary food item like biscuits packets, lime juice bottles, cold freshly churned buttermilk and four packets of MTR ready-made Pongal. After the necessary formalities and payments and a chat with the Forest Guard and his assistants we were on our way to Kumara Parvata.

KALLU MANTAPA (SHELTER OF STONE)

At a short distance from the Forest Office we encounter another viewing platform and beyond that starts the main climb. A Maharajah of an erstwhile Coorg Kingdom had constructed a shelter of stone for his rest and relaxation on his visits to the hill. This landmark is known as Kallu Mantapa (Shelter of stone) to the trekkers on this route. It is at a point approximately half-way between Bhattara Mane and Kumara Parvata. That would mean that it is 2.5 km from Girigadde. There is a water source in the vicinity. We arrived here at 10:00 a.m. and rested for a while and drank water and refilled the bottles. After sufficient rest we resumed the trek.

BATTA RASI HILL

The next part of the trek involves the climbing of a hill called Battarasi. The name derives from the fact that it resembles a mound of paddy (paddy = batta; rasi= mound).(See photo on the right)
As you tackle this hill there comes into view a taller one called Sesha Parvata (1399 m Lat:12°39'40" Long: 75°40'20") The name again derives from the fact that if you view it from the southern side, it appears like a hooded snake. By the time a person of my age and fitness reaches this place he is usually quite exhausted so I suggested to Nagaraj that we rest. We had arrived at the top of Sesh Parvata at 10:30 a.m. Nagaraj advised that we postpone our rest to a point further on as at the present spot the Sun was bearing down upon us quite intensely and a little beyond there was a wooded region where again water is available. So we proceeded ahead.

After Sesha Parvata the road descends somewhat and there is a shady wooded region that comforts the trekker. You enter the wood and after proceeding for a while you encounter a sheer rocky face at a steep angle. At the foot of the rocky face and on the right there is a water source. The water is very cold and moistens the bottle. We sat around for quite a while here and quenched our thirsts. After sufficient rest we set about for the final climb.

As I said, the first part of the final climb involves scaling of the rocky face. I did not find the ascent too tough even though Nagaraj had expressed the opinion that it could be dangerous. I could tackle it with easy confidence and having done that we executed the final tiring climb to Kumara Parvat.

We arrived at the peak at 11:30 a.m. At the peak the land is a flat table-land and one can find the Survey of India Triangulation point marked by a conical shaped heap of boulders. Some Bajarang Dal activists had stuck a flag on the mound. To the south of the Triangulation point and perhaps 30 meters from it is the temple. The Survey of India toposheet gives its height as 1712 m (5650 ft). It lies in the SOI Toposheet Number 48P/10 (12°39'40"N:75°41'15"E)   and lies in the Coorg district of Karnataka. Legend has it that when Subramanya slew Taarakasura, the Devas from the heavens showered a profusion of flowers, and ever since, some variety of flower or the other blossoms throughout the year at this peak. The peak is hence also called Pushpagiri (pushpa = flower; giri = peak)

Triangulation Point of Survey of India.
Height 1712 m
Toposheet : 48P/10
Degree Sheet 48P
Lat:12° 39' 40" N
Long:75° 41'15" E 
Location: Kumara Parvata  or             
Pushpagiri



The temple, obviously quite ancient, has been constructed out of a pile of elliptical rounded boulders. There are three chambers, of which the main one is roofed with a stone slab and the chamber appears like a dark cave. Here you find a Shiva Linga and various articles of pooja like a brass bell, dhoop sticks, match box, oil etc. The entrance is very small and constricted and a man of my size would find it difficult to crawl through.

(Photo on the right: The Temple)


Behind the temple, the rocky basement has the markings of two feet - where lord Subramanya is supposed to have unified with God (attained yoga) in a standing position. Beside the marking of the two feet there are faint traces of some script that reputedly reports the above divine Leela but has almost been rendered obscure by weathering and erosion.

Shiva Linga in the temple

Footprints supposedly left by Lord Subramanya
as he attained Yoga (unification with the Divine)

   Hence on the Girigadde - Kumara Parvata Trek one climbs (1712-868) = 844 m or 2785 feet

                                                                                     To be continued …

Kumara Parvata Trek - The Human Angle - II

FOREST OFFICE – PUSHPAGIRI WILD LIFE SANCTUARY AT GIRIGADDE

Toposheet: 48P/10
Altitude: 868 m
Lat: 12 39'40"N  :   Long 75 41'15"E

As I was strenuously trudging up the hill, I met the Forest Guard K. Jayaraju of the Pushpagiri Wild Life Range which has its main office at Somwarpet. This poor soul has been stationed here for the past 12 years. He seems to have got accustomed to the tough conditions of service that he has to face. In the first place the staff, for their provisions, has to trudge down to Subramanya and back up again - a total distance of about 10 km that involves about 2000 ft of descent and climbing. Further, since there is no school in the vicinity, it is necessary that they leave their families behind. In the event of a sudden serious illness, there is no transport available to take them below. He has one or two assistants, but still, life can be lonesome. Once a week, he and his staff have to clear the entire stretch of the trekking route from Subramanya to Kumara Parvata as clean as possible and as free of rounded cobbles that can cause trekkers to slip and fall and hurt themselves. Anyone who has ventured up the hill will know of the severe physical effort involved in the whole exercise of firstly maintaining themselves at such a place, and secondly, in trying to keep the environment of the sanctuary clean – that too having to reckon with Indians.

It is here that Indian trekkers can be, and are very effectively, ruthless. I saw the Forest Guard Jayraju pick up several sachets of pan masala packets, small slivers of silvery foils of peppermints, chocolates, empty cigarette packets, dozens of plastic mineral water bottles, whisky and rum bottles (sadly empty, of course!), beer cans and paper plates and plastic cups. The least the trekkers can do is to save them in a plastic bag and carry it back with them. It was disheartening to see all this garbage and debris strewn all around and at important scenic spots. Trekkers! Please have a heart for others! Try and emulate the westerners who spare no effort in conscientiously avoiding littering and consciously participate in the preservation of the environment.

The Forest Office at Girigadde is well maintained and neat. They have even cultivated and maintained a neat garden with many fruit trees like guava and plantains and many flowering plants. The staff is quite courteous. A sum of Rs. 100/- is charged per head, for those who intend to trek upwards from Girigadde towards Pushpagiri or Kumara Parvata. A single person is not allowed to enter, and the lowest unit is a group of two persons. Cameras are charged extra.

Among other aesthetic efforts that this office has undertaken is that it has built two viewing platforms at vantage locations with comfortable wooden benches. These places are well chosen and afford a spectacular view of the countryside. I have all praises for the efforts of the Forest Department.
 
(Photo left: Viewing Platform with wooden benches. Forest Guard Jayraju seen. Kumara Parvata the tallest peak seen in the background)
 
As a useful suggestion, I wish the department places about six to seven large garbage bins and trash cans at the peak and at the Kallu Mantapa and at the water source near it, and further in the woods at the saddle between the Sesha Parvata and Kumara Parvata where there is a flow of water. It is at these places that people seem to camp and dine and generally dirty up things.


Phone Number of the Forest Guard : 94494 75506.



                                                                           To be Continued …

Kumara Parvata Trek - The Human Angle (25th - 27th March 2010)

KUMARA PARVATA TREK – THE HUMAN ANGLE

Location: Girigadde
Altitude:   868 m
Latitude:      12°39'40"N
Longitude:   75°41'15"E

It was around 2:30 p.m. that we lunched after refreshing ourselves by a cold water bath. The householders treated me like one of their family and served lunch for me together with all of them. Plantain leaves were spread on the floor and a 1.5 inch tall wooden plank about a foot and a half long and about a foot wide was provided for us to sit. Two varieties of rice were cooked – half boiled type (called locally as Kusablu Akki, which is semi polished) and the polished rice variety. I chose to taste the former and did in fact enjoy it. Adequate quantity of rice was served with French beans sambar. I found the cooking very tasty. Later we were served rice with curds which we relished with pickles. Thus after a sumptuous lunch, we rested at around 3:00 p.m.

The household (Bhattara Mane at Girigadde) is managed very efficiently by the elder brother Sri Mahalinga Bhat who is 52 years old (as of 2010). He is six to seven years younger than me, but having been wedded at 21 years, he has four children and about four or five grandchildren. He has not studied beyond high-school but is very worldly-wise and street-smart. He spoke to me of his younger days when he had led a nomadic life traveling from one town to another, working in restaurants for short periods just enough to earn money that would enable him to move to a different town. In this way he had worked at various jobs in different towns in the states of Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Maharashtra and Karnataka. (Below: Mahalinga Bhat)

MAHALINGA BHAT

At a particular time in his life he came to settle down at Girigadde and to manage its affairs. He talks easily and befriends people and has a rustic sense of humour. His knowledge of various stories from Indian mythology is quite vast and uses it to pepper his conversation. It appears he is the second brother and has an elder brother and two younger brothers. One of the younger brothers works as a cook at the Subramanya Temple and looks after the affairs of the family at Subramanya. He is married and has children. The other younger brother Sri Narayana Bhatta (44 years as of 2010) too lives at Girigadde and often comes down the hills to Subramanya on various tasks of the family. Narayan is unmarried.
Mahalinga Bhat lost his wife two or three years ago. She died of diabetes. He seems to have taken her loss in his stride, and judging the way Mahalinga Bhat talks about various things, one gets the idea that he is scarcely perturbed by any calamity whatsoever that may visit him. I was amazed at the ease with which he would talk of his various misfortunes – as if they were things to be expected if one lives on earth for any respectable number of years.
 

Another interesting thing is that he is fondly taking care of his mother-in-law. Hers is another interesting story. She is a Tamilian and does not belong to the hills at all. Yet years ago, after she came to live at this place, she seems to have descended to the plains only two or three times, and not once in the past few years. Her body is totally bent due to aging, yet she moves about doing all the household work. It is Mahalinga Bhatt who largely cooks the food for visitors efficiently aided by his mother-in-law.
(Photo on right: Mahalinga Bhat's Mother-in-law)

They have 5 acres of land in which they grow arecanut, coconut, plantains, various vegetables and fruits. The household has over 30 to 40 cows and they supply 25 litres of milk to the various restaurants down below carrying it as head-load. Rice sacks of 25 kg are hauled up along with pulses and other condiments to be cooked for the visitors, and considering the effort that it takes, it appears that the money that they charge for board is perfectly reasonable. Tea, coffee and buttermilk are served gratis; as is the lodging too provided free. Inexperienced trekkers and spoilt people seek private rooms in such a place, and not finding it, feel disappointed and choose to abandon the trek and return to Subramanya!! Others are disappointed that they have to sleep without cots. They do not seem to realize that they are missing out on exotic experiences and I feel sorry for them. Liquor is neither served by the household nor is it permitted by them for others to consume it at the house.

The family seems to be quite popular with a certain class of trekkers for different people seem to contribute different things for future visitors. Some kind soul has contributed two solar panels which light up the house with CFL lamps in various rooms for 5 to 6 hours. It cost Rs 45000/-. Others leave behind foam mattresses. The house is mobile enabled. (Try numbers 99486 47947, 99456 18495, 98405 27765). I did my own small bit by sending ten foam pillows by courier for future trekkers.

                                                                                  To be continued …

Kumara Parvata Trek - III March 25th - 27th, 2010

KUMARA PARVATA TREK

Narayana Bhat had advised me to be wary while picking out guides, as many of them are addicted to drinking and hence are unreliable. His talk seemed to suggest that Nagaraj would be the best choice. And it turned out to be true too! For it was my pleasant experience that Nagaraj was a happily optimistic guy, and one who had a knack of constantly suggesting that the goal to be reached was easily reachable, and just beyond that short hump up yonder! He would advice where one had to be careful, and also had a good knowledge of the places on the way.

A further advantage was that he was on very intimate terms with the ‘Bhattara Mane’ household and a family friend of theirs and I too became very chummy with the household. He had trekked up the peak about twelve times prior to my visit. Though being on the skinnier side, he is amazingly resilient and can carry loads up to 8 or 10 kg up the hill with ease. An easily amiable fellow, we got on very well.

When I look back, I think of how blessed I was throughout the trek. To begin with, the bus from Bangalore to Subramanya had only eight people including me. Beside me, there was one other family of four going there on a pilgrimage. There was another traveler to Puttur. These were the travelers who commuted the entire distance. Besides one or two got in and off at intermediate distances. The bus seemed specially chartered for the six of us. When the window on one side got sunny, I shifted to the window on another side. The bus had only three stops – at Channarayapatna, Hassan and Sakleshpur, besides halting for lunch at Kamat’s some distance after Channarayapatna and before Hassan.

The other coincidence is that Narayana Bhat was with Nagaraj precisely at the time I went inside the restaurant. Further, it was a blessing that it turned out to be Navami (Ram Navami) and the next two days (Dashami and Ekadash) were holidays for Nagaraj and he was free to come up with me (which are the only days he finds twice in a month to go up). Everything worked out well in the end, and that after the initial scare of the very real possibility of my not being able to find a guide.

Nagaraj said he would only be able to leave after 8:00 a.m. the following day, as he had to sign off at the office at that hour. Accordingly we met at the Ratha (Chariot) in front of the Subramanya temple on March 25th at 8:00 a.m. and after he had his breakfast, we left on the trek at 8:30 a.m. I had earlier visited the temple in humble submission and seeking the blessings of God. Later I had had my breakfast and vacated the room. To reduce the weight of the luggage for the trek I transferred some items of clothing from the rucksack to a bag which I deposited at the free luggage deposit centre being run by the temple authorities.

So I and Nagaraj started the trek at 8:30 a.m. The initial parts of the path traverses through a wooded terrain and the path does not appear to be too steep initially (left). It is common to find a crowd of butterflies along this path.(See photo below) The path goes through a shaded area, but the presence of the forest prevents any breeze. The air is perfectly still and quite hot and humid. Even the mildly increasing gradient slowly makes one run out of breath over short distances. The trek can be quite strenuous if you are not in good shape.

 A main marker point where trekkers seem to take a long rest is at ‘Bheemana Bande’ (Bheema’s rock) which is at a distance of roughly 2.5 to 2.8 km from Subramanya. We reached this point at 10:00 a.m. So it had taken us 1.5 hrs to trek 2.5 km. We rested for a while at the rock and took a few photographs. We met a group of four trekkers from Kasargod who were returning after their climb of Kumara Parvata. After about half an hour’s rest we left for Bhattara Mane. The climb becomes increasingly steep and I found this stretch very strenuous. Every few tens of meters I was out of breath and would halt to catch up with my breath. About a kilometer before Girigadde we met the Forest Guard of Pushpagiri Forest Wild Life Sanctuary under whose jurisdiction these areas lie. He had come to clear the garbage which trekkers so mindlessly leave, destroying the beauty of the place. I’ll talk about that later. (Bheemana Bande shown below)

We arrived at Girigadde (Altitude 868 m above MSL) at 11:15 a.m., and I sat down on the ledge of the house quite exhausted. The householders served us unlimited quantities of cool and refreshing buttermilk until we were satiated. They offered that we could bathe from the hande and bucket using mugs. But I chose to relax for a while. Later, as I tried to recline and relax on a foam mattress I found various parts of my body developing spasms of cramps. First it was the left calf-muscle, then the right thigh. Then it was both the feet arches. Later the toes started cramping up. Mahalinga Bhatta, the elder brother who mainly looks after the affairs at Girigadde, suggested me to drink water mixed with common salt, as it would reduce the intensity of these cramps. He seemed to know that we lose a lot of salts due to perspiration while on a strenuous trek and this causes muscular cramps. Hence salty water is an effective cure. On drinking it, there was a partial relief. Nevertheless I was getting these spasms of cramps throughout the evening at various intervals.  And that caused me some worry about tomorrow!

On the Trek from Subramanya to Girigadde you climb (868 - 123) = 745 m  or 2460 feet

                                                                              To be continued ...

Kumara Parvata Trek - II March 25th - 27th 2010

KUMARA PARVATA TREK – 2

(Narayana Bhat after a shave and  haircut before he came up to Girigadde from Kukke Subramanya. The house 'Bhattara Mane at Girigadde is seen in the background)

Anyone who ventures to gather information on Kumara Parvata trek from Kukke Subramanya by Googling on the internet will find a reference to ‘Bhattara Mane’ at Girigadde. It is a very convenient and warmly hospitable abode exactly midway (about 5 to 5.5 km from Kukke Subramanya). The house is a rustic mud-brick construction on a foundation of roughly rounded boulders gathered from the vicinity. It has a tiled roof and mud-floor splashed with viscous cow-dung fluid and dried. The frontal verandah has an asbestos roofed ceiling and is about 20-23 feet long and about 6 feet wide. This is the portion where most visitors are made to find their accommodation and rest. Foam mattresses are laid on the ground and pillows and bedsheets for covering oneself at night are available for guests who arrive in small groups of six to eight or ten. Lunch and dinner provided here consists of rice and sambar and buttermilk or curds. I was given unlimited access to buttermilk when I was there. More about this household later!

So upon my seeking for a guide at a restaurant I visited, the Manager of the Restaurant pointed to the ‘Bhattaru from Girigadde’, I felt elated. I approached the man and told him my name, and  reminded how I had contacted him about a week ago enquiring after the possibility of camping at his place. He was with two others.  When I asked him of the possibility of finding a guide, one of the men sitting opposite us told Narayana Bhatta (of Girigadde fame!) that even he was willing to guide me up to the Parvata. He gave me his name as S. R. Nagaraj and  We negotiated the rate at Rs.1000/- for three days and he offered that he would make his own arrangements for his food.


                                                                                 To be Continued …

Kumara Parvata Trek - March 25th - 27th 2010 - 1

Once every now and then, the bug of foolhardiness infects me, and I end up doing crazy ventures that saner minds of my age (58 years) would prudently avoid. So it happened that a few days ago I decided to venture a trek up Kumara Parvata – a towering peak in the vicinity of Kukke Subramanya, a town in the South Kanara district of Karnataka, India. The peak, however, lies in the Coorg district of Karnataka. While the peak is known as Kumara Parvata in South Kanara, it is known as Pushpagiri, in Coorg. The top of the peak is at an altitude of approximately 5650 feet or 1712 m above the Mean Sea Level. I found out from the Survey of India Toposheet that Subramanya town is 123 m or 400 feet M.S.L., and that would make for a trekking climb of roughly 5200 feet. This peak is supposed to be the third tallest one in Karnataka – the tallest being the Moolaingiri peak in the Bababudan hills.


This peak finds a mention in the Skanda Puranas and narrates the story of how Lord Subramanya (also called Kartikeya, Muruga, Vadivel etc.) slew the demon Taarakasura on top of the peak on the seventh day after his birth. Lord Subramanya is the son of Shiva and Parvati, the other son being Lord Ganesha. Lord Subramanya is supposed to be characterized by six potencies and is hence also called Shanmukha (Six Faced). Curiously on Kumara Parvata, you find in profusion, a mineral that has six faces. It crystallizes in the hexagonal system and is probably the mineral apatite. These crystals are venerated as Shanmukha Linga and worshipped with diligent care and devotion. When Subramanya slew Taarakasura, his body is supposed to have fallen in Marigundi – a place one sees while climbing up the Kumara Parvata, and his head is supposed to have fallen near a village called Kulkunda. Curiously, my job had forced me to camp at Kulkunda in 1984 which makes me wonder if I had been Taarakasura in my previous birth!

Way back in 1984, I and another colleague had been assigned work in this area, and we had only been successful in climbing half way up the peak then, as we returned back to camp at Kulkunda before dusk. Since then, it has been my desire to trek up the peak, but it is somewhat foolhardy to venture on a scheme like this when one is out of shape. For the past 6 months I have neither been going on my walks nor exercising. Further I’ve put on a lot of weight and suffering from bouts of breathlessness and effortful breathing. Just recently, as I was reading through a book called ‘Mystic Eye’ by Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev, I was struck by the experience he had had in the vicinity of Kumara Parvata in the 1990s and the urge to go up the peak developed within me very strongly. I did try to find a friend to accompany me from Bangalore but totally failed in the effort. Since the desire to ‘just do it!’ was so strong, I decided to go it alone.

I left Bangalore at 9:00 a.m on the 24th of March 2010 by bus to Kukke Subramanya, arriving there by 4:15 p.m. I faced a hurdle in getting a decent room as the owners of hotels are terribly wary of giving rooms to single visitors. I did try for a room at Ashraya Hotel but was flatly denied. I found this strange as I am close to sixty and would have expected better perspicacity in people who can see me and judge me. Or rather, is it true that they indeed have it more than me to prudently deny me a room?! Anyway, I tried in one or two other places before a kindly clerk at ‘Karthikeya Krupa Guest House’ offered me a room at Rs. 50 a night.

I divide rooms into two types -  Those in which my sister just would not even dream of entering and  Those which I would dream of living for a night. Guess of what type the room number 7 which I was offered was. But I was extremely grateful that I got an accommodation in the first place and secondly at such an inexpensive rate.

The room was quite dingy and unventilated. But what else can you expect at Rs. 50 a night? The ceiling fan was very noisy. Throughout the night there were frequent powercuts and the extreme sultriness of the place combined with the noisiness of the fan gave me barely two hours of disturbed sleep.

Later I visited the temple and ardently prayed for blessings. I certainly needed them considering the shape I was in and also considering the strenuousness of the trek.

Later I set about in search of a guide to take me up the top.
                                                                                     To be continued ...

Feminism Reconsidered

Feminism reconsidered!

This entry is essentially about two women. One woman whom I know is quite remarkable in the sense that she has an unbelievable capacity to endure pain. I know of a time when her husband’s life was in tremendous peril as he was intensely suffering from a sickness that could mean his death at any moment – and she was fully aware of the perils ahead of her. But the stoical way in which she bore all uncertainties and the tremendous support that she was to her husband is really remarkable.

Her main gift, as I said earlier is the tremendous capacity to endure pain. That makes her truly courageous for she never seems scared of the future. Her worship of god is essentially one out of devotion and scarcely directed towards seeking favours from God. Being so courageous, she scarcely feels the need to hurt or wound others. She is generally affable and has a pleasant nature and is generally friendly to all who approach her. She does not view conversation as a jousting event: not as an opportunity to slash or nick an opponent and seek a reconfirmation that she is on the top. She views conversation as an opportunity to exchange pleasant vibes and generally spread a cheerful air. She is just not an intellectual type and lays more stress on feelings. And the feelings she likes to surround herself with, is not one of antagonism, anxiety, competitiveness, or rancour. All she seeks is pleasantness and warm feelings, and in seeking it for herself, she also doles it out to others. She is not a feminist, but she is not subservient to the male ego either. I have seen her react to certain imperious men who are given to volatile tempers with a sense of gravity and firmness that leaves the cantankerous attacker, who is much older and demands that ‘age be respected’, quite speechless. This has happened so often, that the latter has a respect and regard for her now.

Contrast this with the other woman. She is the typical feminist. There is nothing wrong in feminism. It is definitely needed to emancipate women who have been trounced all these years. But the typical feminist applies her feminism without discretion. She uses the guarantees that are sanctioned by civilized society to attack men who need not be attacked at all. She does not dare to use her feminism when she is sure she is going to be thrashed for such an attitude. She is basically a coward who masquerades as a pioneer. She neither has the energy nor the spirit to break the unjust shackles of the society to clear the forests of ignorance for the advancement of humanity. If she loves a man, she does not have the guts and the gumption to tell him about it. If a man declares his feelings, she does not have the ruddy blood to reciprocate. She is scared. She trembles to let her guard down. She is cold. She is distant. She may make pretenses to relate. If you pick up the cue and put forward a proposal of trust, she is jittery. Yet give her a chance in civilized society, she never misses the chance to hurt or wound. A woman without the spirit of love and filled with fear – an unpleasant coward who uses the guarantees of society as a shield while (accosting!) a man who comes unarmed, for an interaction.

We have men who are such cowards too! Ask them to enter a really rough place where things can get really nasty. They use their ‘thinking’ to stay away. They play it ‘safe’ and scarcely take risks that could be life threatening. They are scared of pain. They are scared of true suffering. How do you expect such men to be lovers when they are like the woman of the second type. It would be interesting to leave such men in the dense jungles of Arunachal and see their watery spirit trickle through their bottoms, even as they use the same watery spirit, heated to a boiling temperature, to scald others who are unwilling to wound. They know that physically they are weaklings. But some physically weak men can be tremendously courageous too. But this type even lacks courage and he knows it. Knowing that he is weak and a funk when it really counts, he turns a ‘thinking’ type rather than a ‘feeling’ type – one who feels the necessity to joust, when a partner tries to converse!

A Multimeter Misadventure !

A MULTI-METER MISADVENTURE

Panache! That is the one thing we ‘Officers’ who work for the Government of India have. At least the majority of us have it. One day it occurred to the minds of a few ‘Directors’ of a government organization that a multi-meter was needed to keep the electrical circuits that linked a few computers and their hardware accessories in order. There was Dr. Malhotra, Dr. Kashinath and Dr. Mani Reddy and a few others of us who decided that one multi-meter should be purchased without further delay. We summoned a jeep from the Transport division, into which we all huddled dressed in our finest suits and ties, and all equipped with our fancy brief-cases. Such occasions provided an opportunity for an outing and a break from the dreary existence of being ensconced between the four walls of a drab, dilapidated office with heavy, creaking teak-wood tables and chairs smudged with blotches of ink. We could explore the romantic outside world where savage ‘market-forces’ prevailed and which we could savour and even come out on top!

So it happened that about eight of us, cramped tightly in a vehicle, drove over to the main office of a large company specializing in the manufacture of electronic goods. As we made our way inside, we confronted the receptionist and the leader of our group introduced himself. “I’m Dr. Malhotra. Director,” and spelt out the name of the organization craftily avoiding saying that he was just one of the several tens of directors that the organization had, and made it sound as if he was the top boss. “..I would like to meet someone from Marketing!”

“Just a minute, Sir!” said the receptionist with alacrity, “I’ll put you across to the Marketing Manager”

Presently, our group was led to the chambers of the Marketing Manager who rose from his seat to welcome the group. There was a second round of introduction. “I’m Dr. Malhotra, Director, this is Dr. Kashinath and this is Dr. Mani Reddy, Senior Scientific Officers and so on”. “We are interested in multimeters!”

“Please take your seats!” said the Marketing Manager, Mr. Kaushik.

“Sir! What would you all like to drink? Coke? Pepsi?..or bottled Mango juice?”, Kaushik proffered generously.

The members of our group discussed among ourselves and it was unanimously decided that we all would have bottled mango juice.

“Ramu! Get eight bottles of chilled Mangold!”, Kaushik ordered.

In the time the drinks were to arrive, Mr. Kaushik ventured to exchange pleasantries and make small talk. He asked each of them which part of India they belonged to. Then he praised the subject of geology and said that he had passing acquaintance with certain interesting aspects of the subject and expressed clearly visible wonderment that the Himalayas and even Mount Everest was once under the sea. Then he talked of the gold resources of our country and was visibly disappointed when he was informed that K.G.F. had outlived its use. He evinced interest in a few other aspects of geology in the time that the drinks arrived.

Presently the group had their refreshing drinks and a pleasant glow came over our faces.

Mr Kaushik, sensing that the opportune moment had arrived, cautiously ventured to broach the subject.

“Well, Dr. Malhotra!” intoned Mr. Kaushik, “You said your organization was interested in multi-meters…how many multi-meters are you interested in buying?”

“One number”, said Malhotra guilelessly, and in a typical government fashion.

“You could buy that in any shop for two hundred rupees!!!”, wailed Kaushik, sorely disappointed as he perhaps was expecting an order for a few thousand sets.

To be fair to our group of adventurers, none of us realized we had committed a commercial gaffe, for in a government organization, purchasing even a packet of staples is a big deal!

Other Experiences In Kumaon - 1

OTHER EXPERIENCES IN KUMAON

Brahmins (not to exempt other upper castes) are generally not even slightly aware of the insidiousness of the caste-system. They have never been at the receiving end to realize the impact of what it could mean to a person lower down in the order. Except of course, the dark-complexioned Brahmin who may get to hear some taunts accidentally, and who generally gets reassured soon enough when the other person apologizes profusely. I too would have been smug about the whole thing, but even as I recount my experience in Kumaon, I am distinctly aware that it is just not the genuine feeling.

Back in 1976 in Kumaon, I had sported a thick beard. I would also do things that were supposed to be unforgivable if one were a ‘genuine Brahmin’. During my traverses there, I used to notice a few hutments quite separated from the main village. When I was busy near these hutments either breaking off a chip of a rock, or taking a Brunton Compass reading, someone would invite me in for a cup of tea. I used to strike up a conversation and gradually would make my way into the hut and carry on an animated interaction with the folks of the hut. My field guide (vaguely remember his name as Kedar Dutt) would be near some apple trees that were quite widespread in the vicinities. When the tea was served, I would lap it up with great relish, but surprisingly my field guide, though quite fatigued, would never partake of these cups of tea.

For the first few days I was quite unconscious of all these intricacies, having been brought up in largely urban environs like Bangalore and Delhi, but I began to notice that the folks in the tea-shop in Okhalkhanda and my field guide became interested in my caste. I used to unconsciously reply ‘Brahmin’ when queried about my caste, but I found people rejecting my claim more and more vehemently. It took me quite a while to realize that it was all due to the largely unconscious way I would accept to drink tea during field traverses.

Hence it so happened that when I shifted camp from Babiyar to a village called Kala Agar (? Memory fading) I had the usual problem of accommodation. I tried everywhere in the village for a suitable accommodation, but was totally unsuccessful. Finally I again approached a schoolteacher who seemed to have a fairly large house. He said that he could spare me some accommodation only in the cattle-shed. The cattle-shed was quite spacious, but was spread all over uniformly with hay. Since there were no other government buildings or schools that were free, I ventured to put up in the barn. The teacher’s family also agreed to feed me at the barn for a modest fee.

But the first night was a torment. The hay was infested with fleas. I am particularly sensitive to flea-bites. And throughout the night I was severely bitten by fleas and could not sleep a wink. In the following days I desperately tried for an alternative accommodation and failed totally in getting one. As the days passed I gradually started developing a high fever due to a reaction to the flea-bites. I particularly remember one night, feverish as I was, I lit up the candle and started pouring hot molten wax of the candle on every flea I could spot. The bed-sheet was splotched with wax, and often when a flea landed on my arm or leg, I poured the hot molten wax on my skin.

The only reason I was ostracized to a barn is because I used to enter scheduled caste villages and drink cups of tea in their houses. Now imagine how a scheduled caste victim should feel. Or for that matter, think of how difficult it is for a man of another religion to get a house on rent in a largely Hindu locality in Bangalore.

The School Near Babiyar - 3

THE SCHOOL NEAR BABIYAR

One night after dinner, at the same school near Babiyar, I sat listening to Hindi film-songs and watching out over vast distances across the valleys in the moonlit night. The night was somewhat cloudy, with the breeze blowing the clouds across the sky from the south-east to the north-west. The clouds were somewhat transparent, and the movement of the clouds gave the impression that the moon was running somewhere in a hurry, yet frustratingly fixed to a point. I’m sure all of you have had this impression when you were young. After listening to the transistor radio till 10:15 p.m., I rose to retire for the night.

As usual, I loaded the wooden chair with tins and cans and sundry items and placed it against the closed door to secure it from the inside as the door did not have a bolt and a latch. Putting out the candle light, I later crawled into the sleeping bag, which had a zip that fastened upwards from the navel, up the chest, right up to the chin. I had fallen off into a deep slumber and was totally lost to the outside world.

It had so happened that sometime during the night the weather had turned severely bad and a fierce storm was raging. I was blissfully unaware of all this and was in deep slumber. At one instance a severe gust of wind blew fiercely against the door and sent the heavy chair flying together with all the cans and tins and the sundry items. I was rudely jolted by a loud noise caused by the chair sent hurtling across and the cans crashing on the floor. I suddenly opened my eyes and found the door widely ajar and a fierce wind in the room. At that instance I did not even know where I was and could see the silhouette of a widely open door and felt a lot of breeze in the room.

I had forgotten I was inside a sleeping bag and I tried wildly to flay my hands and found my movements totally restricted. As I had zipped myself to the chin, even as I tried to rise up, I felt severely constrained. The darkness added to my sense of panic. For a while, I felt as if someone or something was restraining me in that desolate room. It took me about 10 seconds to completely gather my wits and realize what had actually happened in that lonesome school in a random place called Babiyar in the Kumaon Himalaya.

The School Near Babiyar - 2

Throughout the time I was cleaning the room prior to retiring for the night, I had tuned on the transistor radio for an Urdu programme broadcasting film-songs. I was not too conscious of any sounds within the room or on the outside. Later, after I tuned out the transistor by switching it off and blowing out the flame of the candle, the room and the surroundings became strangely quiet. As time flowed on there was a distinct tap on the roof. Then another one…and after some more time, another. I could not surmise what the noise was due to and crawled out of the sleeping bag and came out of the room with a electric torch to investigate. The night was pitch-dark and spangled with stars. The milky-way galaxy could be distinctly seen. When I shone the torch on the roof, there appeared nothing to be seen. The roof was barren. So I returned and crept into the snug warmth of the sleeping bag. Those noises on the roof at intermittent intervals continued throughout the night. Soon I lapsed into deep sleep.

When I woke up, it was already quite bright. As I lay within the sleeping bag and gazed at the roof, I saw that it was made of tin sheets. That clarified matters regarding the strange tapping noises I had heard at night. During the day, the heat of the sun would have expanded those sheets, and at nights, as the temperature dipped, they would contract giving rise to those intermittent tapping noises. Later, the boy who was to work for me as a field-guide arrived, together with the chappathis both for breakfast and for packed lunch.

There were two interesting events at that camp. I will relate the first one that linked me to my hometown Bangalore. Every evening we would return to camp at around 5:00 p.m. Later, the boy and his father would bring chappathis for dinner at around 7:00 p.m., and on my finishing dinner by around 7:20 p.m., they would leave and I would be all alone. I would be sitting outside the room on a ledge gazing out at the dark sky looking for stars and planets that were familiar to me. Somedays I would feel particularly nostalgic and homesick for Bangalore. I was scarcely 23 years old, and having been in urban environs with many friends and companions, time would hang very heavy during those lonesome nights. I would strongly wish to connect in some way to Bangalore, and in this wistful effort, I would keep slowly keep turning the dial of the transistor, with a faint hope of picking up the Bangalore All India Radio Station. Those days, it was only the short-wave frequencies that would be transmitted over such vast distances, and Bangalore did not have a short-wave broadcasting facility. This city had only two or three medium-wave frequencies over which it would broadcast its radio programmes. Unfortunately, medium-wave broadcasts would not be picked up at such a great distance from Bangalore. But in my seething nostalgic desire, I would keep trying desperately for Bangalore. One day there was a miracle. At around 7:30 p.m. or 8:00 p.m. I faintly picked up on medium-wave the Bangalore station of All India Radio. I was so thrilled! That day the program was of an interview with a few boys and girls of The National College, Basavanagudi, Bangalore. Most of them were the sophisticated and polished English-speaking variety holding forth on various aspects of culture and politics. There was a lone Kannada-devotee who spoke exuberantly and vivaciously on how he venerated the Kannada matinee-idol Rajkumar, and how he considered him the best actor in the world.

It was a rare moment over there in a lonesome school on top of a ridge in Kumaon in 1976 when I got to hear of our own home-grown Rajkumar. I was trying to visualize the reactions of the English-speaking crowd who were in the interview. Perhaps a candid television shot would remove much of the magic of that feeble connection that I had established with my home Bangalore way out from a desolate place in the Kumaon Himalaya.

The School Near Babiyar - 1

But two people would come when I was there, and they would come around 7:00 p.m.! One was a lad about 12 to 13 years old and the other was his father. They would bring me dinner, which consisted of four or five chappathis made with mustard oil and sometimes I would get a leafy vegetable to go with it, but many times I remember having eaten the chappathis with salt and onions or with chillies. Once those two returned, I would spend the rest of the night alone.

When I came on a camp shift away from Okhalkhanda, I actually intended to stay at some house in Pokri Pher. But on arriving there around 6:30 p.m., I was told that there was no suitable accommodation in anyone’s house. I was shown a small dingy room but it was so poorly ventilated and full of rat turd that I just did not feel like staying in that room. The villagers informed me that there was a small two-roomed primary school at the crest of the hill-slope where I could stay if I chose to, as the school was closed for vacations. They said I would need the permission of the headmaster who stayed at Babiyar, about one kilometer from the school in a WNW direction. They however cautioned that the place is very solitary and that just behind the school the villagers had attempted to build a panchayat ghar, which was abandoned as the place was haunted.

I preferred to consider the school as a place where I may put up for about two weeks stay. Accompanied by two or three villagers, as it was already dark by then, I passed by the school, which had two rooms – one of which had a door that was locked with an iron chain and the other room had no door as the room was quite empty. The place looked quite clean and I decided to camp in the school. We sought the permission of the head-master, who gave it rather willingly and I received the keys to the room with the door that was locked.

On entering the room and on lighting up a candle, I found a blackboard, one or two shelves with various books and charts, an old wooden table, a very heavy wooden chair and many other sundry items among which there was a broom. I thanked the other villagers who had come there with me and wished them goodnight after informing them that I would need a young boy who was familiar with various villages in the vicinity and lead me along various known routes and paths. Promising to send me a boy the next morning, the villagers left.

I swept the room clean with the broom and unpacked my rucksack and sleeping bag. Unfortunately the door did not have a bolt from inside and there was no way to securely latch it from inside. I hence decided to close the door and place the heavy wooden chair against it after loading it further with my rucksack and other items. I do not remember if I ate that night or not, but having felt quite exhausted, I spread a durrie and my sleeping bag over it and tried to sleep.

(To be continued …)

Okhalkhanda And its Environs in Kumaon (1976)

The village of Okhalkhanda lay perhaps in the Ramgarh District of Uttar Pradesh way back in 1976. Since it has been a long time since I visited there, the details are slowly being erased from my memory. It was an idyllic village in Kumaon Himalayas and had a Forest Rest House that was quite comfortable. Since I was a student at that time, I was not given permission to occupy the main rest house, but was given a small room in an annexe. A local person, Ram Singh by name used to prepare a few chappathis and a curry for lunch and dinner. The treks used to be quite exhausting, as it involved a descent and climb of about 3000 ft every day. Evenings would have me in the only teashop narrating various stories and facts about other parts of the world to the keen villagers who would lap up the stories in great eagerness.

The villagers were disarmingly innocent! For instance, when I told them about New York and the Empire State with over 100 storeys, they would ask me in all innocence “Sab, New York, Okhalkhanda se kitna door padtha hai?!” I would be tempted to tell him ‘Eleven thousand three hundred and twenty five miles, four furlongs, 143 yards, seven feet and three inches!’, but I would answer them without ever being patronizing even to the slightest degree. They were extremely hospitable. The men-folk were by and large lazy, but it used to be the women who were very hardy and put in all the strenuous work

This was the area that Jim Corbett in his book ‘The Man-eaters of Kumaon’ referred to as ‘The Chowgarh tigers’. Those days, I am sure it must have been covered by a dense mixed jungle, but now, sadly the whole forest was denuded and we saw the hill-slopes covered extensively by pine trees. The year I visited the place there was no electricity, but I heard it arrived shortly after I left the place. As there was no electricity, there were no televisions either. I am sure, by now the whole scenario would have changed and the villager of Okhalkhanda may have a thing or two to tell us about the outer world!

About 12-13 km east of Okalkhanda was a small cozy forest rest house nestled in a valley in a place called Thakura. I was lucky to get an accommodation over there and I stayed perhaps for over ten days. It was one of those old British style resthouse, with very antique and heavy teak wood cots and various rosewood furniture. It had quite a few large armchairs with high backs and spacious arm rests that could be spread out in a circular motion around a pivot. There were two rose-wood almirahs – one with antique porcelain cutlery, steel knives, forks and the works. The other almirah had many ancient copies of ‘Strand Magazines’ and other British magazines. That was where, I distinctly remember, I read P.G. Wodehouse’s ‘Mulliner’s Buck-u- Uppo’ in one of the old Strand Magazines.

For days together, I never had much contact with the outer world. Back home, my parents would have got a postcard just before I left Delhi, but for the next three months, they just would have no news about me, nor I about them. I had an old Murphy-minimaster transistor-radio that kept me briefly linked with the outer world, and I would get to hear my favourite Hindi film songs on it.

In a place near Babiyar, I was staying in a solitary dilapidated primary school that consisted of two small rooms with heavy doors but no latches. The school was about a kilometer from Babiyar and about 800 m upslope from Pokhri Pher and on a hump. Not one soul would venture near the school after dark...

( ….. to be continued in the next entry..)

A Confession !

About two or three days ago, I had made an entry about ‘Baltimore’! Here is a confession – there is no Vikram Trivedi from Roorkee that I know of, nor was there a conversation in Koshy’s Restaurant of Bangalore and there was no practical prank. All that had happened was that my sister just happened to mention the name Baltimore as we were heading back home from the Bazaar, and I told her about how the word ‘Baltimore’ came into existence and she knew immediately that the thing was just a prank and we all had a good laugh.

Now let us come to the more serious stuff. Most people of our generation would have loved the Hindi film Padosan. While I thoroughly enjoyed the banter, I was rather surprised at the real and present dislike that I had to face sometimes in Delhi and in rural Uttar Pradesh as I was from south of the Vindhyans. There were a few observations that I made though. Whenever the group consisted of the hail-fellow-well-met sort of guys, there seemed to be much less prejudice. The sporting lot, though they paid lip service to the general idea of a comic South Indian seemed to take each man as he came. These fellows were generally the liberal lot, and their politics too was of the liberal type. In all aspects of their thinking – social, religious, scientific etc. they were generally broadminded. The danger was with people who had rigid ideas, and it is surprising to see the tenacity with which they held on to their ideas with a total unwillingness to keep open various possibilities.

In the south too we are guilty of this travesty. We seem to label people of certain parts of India as belonging to the ‘cow belt’ with rather backward ideas; people of other parts as ruthless money lenders and shopkeepers; yet others as having loose morals. And in doing so, we may turn out to be guilty of doing a unjust action as this Block Development Officer (BDO) did which I give hereunder.

In the year 1976, I was working for a Ph.D in geology in the vicinity of a small village called Okhalkhanda in Kumaon Himalayas, about 60 km east of Nainital. Those days there was no electricity in the vicinity of those villages. I was twenty-four years old, and being from the plains, I used to find the ascending and descending of the hill-slopes quite strenuous. I had found the village folk to be very friendly and would spend evening hours just chatting with all of them in the only tea-shop that was there in the villageof Okhalkhanda where I had camped. I liked the villagers and could make out that the villagers grew fond of various anecdotes that I related to them of other parts of India that were totally out of their experience those days.

After a few days, I had to shift camp to a place called Babiyar which was about 12 km to the west. The distance in a plain terrain may not be too much to trek, but in a hilly terrain, it can be quite strenuous, especially for a man from the plains. Further, I had some heavy luggage that I had to transport over to Babiyar. When I put the matter across to the villagers, they suggested that I meet the BDO and place a request for mules that he had under his custody to facilitate the camp shift.

Later, when I went to meet the BDO along with a few villagers, as we sat around the table and discussed the matter, he told the villagers of how when he had been deputed to Germany for some study on agricultural aspects, he found Pakistanis to be more friendly than South Indians. He went on like this for quite some time, and in the end he declined any help whatsoever in the matter. I found it extremely tiring and strenuous to shift all my belongings to Babiyar from Okhalkhanda alone.

I write this to remind ourselves of how we should be alert in dusting and scrubbing our mind of the cobwebs of preconceived notions about men, or even of various events, and in making this suggestion, I thank an anonymous person who has advised me very rightly – to keep this Blog clean!

Liberal Arts And Science - Should they Blend ? - II

MATERIAL FOR THIS ENTRY AND THE PREVIOUS ONE WAS LARGELY DRAWN FROM :

1. The Western Intellectual Tradition By J. Bronowski and Bruce Mazlish
2. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig


Such a transformation was not always easy. The Church hindered the progress and dissemination of scientific ideas. Galileo’s case is not the only instance. The works of many philosophers like Voltaire, Rousseau and Descartes were banned by the Church. It was not only Christianity but other religions too victimized heretical thinkers. Baruch Spinoza, a Jew, was excommunicated in 1656 for being a religious and political liberal. Even in the 20th C philosophers like Bertrand Russell were victimized for their views. And the case of Salman Rushdie who was condemned to death by certain Muslim clerics is still fresh in our memories.

It will be interesting to recount the impact of science on the social fabric of our own country. You just have to read accounts by various travelers to the 18th and 19th C India to realize what a bleak place it was. Young widows were burnt on their dead husband’s pyre. Child marriages, child sacrifices and untouchability were the bane of India. Infant mortality was high and the absence of hygiene and sanitary practices in our country’s towns and villages made diseases like typhoid, cholera, plague and hepatitis rampant. Superstition and blind beliefs led to much human suffering which could be prevented. Over a period of time, with advances in science and technology, there has been a vast change and things are still changing. The average life-expectancy has risen. Improved methods of agriculture have seen to increase agricultural production many fold. The fabric of the society is more equitable, though much remains to be done. The practice of untouchability is punishable. Women, who were earlier being consigned to the four walls of the kitchen have now become a strong work-force and are actively contributing to the economy.

While strongly acknowledging these changes that science has wrought, I would like to speak a word of caution. In trying to understand the world around them, humans employ two main methods. These can be broadly classified as Classical understanding and Romantic understanding. CLASSICAL understanding sees the world primarily as underlying FORM. ROMANTIC understanding sees it primarily in terms of immediate APPEARANCE. Science largely issues from the former and art from the latter. While both forms of understanding are essential for human progress, the overwhelming dominance of Classical understanding over Romantic understanding is a cause for some worry and introspection and such an unequal development may even be an impediment to Human progress.
The Romantic saw a universal intelligence which created the sparkling Sun. It created the Moon, the call of the mother, the reeds in the lake, the daisies and the white dove. The Classicist busied himself gaining knowledge. He reduced a fragrant flowering tree to Michaelia champaka. A leaf is not just green. It is green because of chlorophyll. To the Romantic the moon was perhaps made of cheese. Now we know it is made of basalts. “Is there a man on the moon?” the children would ask in wonderment. Now they know Neil Armstrong was there. The magic of touch-me-nots, which close themselves in salutation to a man’s touch, for he is the only animal who has the consciousness to marvel at it, now shuts itself because water is expelled from one crucial part of the flower to another. The magic has been removed from creation and creation has lost its value. As Georg Lucacs says “Man has been rendered TRANSCENDENTALLY HOMELESS”.

The Classical mode which generates science, by itself, is dull, awkward, ugly. Nothing is figured out until it is run through a computer a dozen times. Everything is in terms of pieces and parts and components and relationships. Everything has to be measured and proved. Everything is oppressive, heavy, dull and endlessly grey. The Romantic mode is primarily inspirational, imaginative, creative and intuitive. It provides value for the Human circumstance. It generates art. It does not proceed by reason or by laws. It proceeds by feelings, intuition and aesthetic conscience! Is Newton more beneficial to humanity or is Shakespeare? The answer is both are equals. Both the Classicist and the Romantic are needed for the advancement of the human spirit. The Classicist is needed for the advancement of science and reason and progress, while the Romantic is needed to give value to the Classicist discoveries. Without the former there would be no understanding and without the latter there would be no meaning. Science and Arts are both important for human progress.

The overwhelming importance that man is giving to science may be causing this world to be a very bleak place for him. It has engendered man to think of his predicament as is widely reflected in modern (20th C) art and literature. ‘A Clockwork Orange’ could very well be the world of the near future. Franz Kafka’s works amply emphasize the fears and trepidations that a modern man faces in a contemporary world. The concepts of the ‘Absurd’, ‘Alienation’ and ‘Outsider’ dealt with by many modern European novelists talk of the tragedy of the human situation. The dichotomy between ‘LIFE’ and ‘MEANING’ has crept in. Many say that Science and Technology cause it! We pay for knowledge with alienation.

My call this day is that we should re-establish man’s home in the knowledge of the external world he has. Intuitive modes of interpreting the world should also be given its due importance as they may offer guidelines to govern human conduct and behaviour. Religious systems derived from mystical experiences have to be tempered and modulated with the knowledge derived from science and a firm basis for an ethical and moral world should be established, in which we, our children, and their children can live without fear.


The importance that need to be given to emotions and feelings is stressed in this TED TALK by David Brooks (Please Click on the link below ) :

http://www.ted.com/talks/david_brooks_the_social_animal.html



                                                                       xxx

Liberal Arts And Science - Should They Blend ? - I

Some ideas for material for this post and the next have been borrowed from:

1. 'The Western Intellectual Tradition' by J. Bronowski & Bruce Mazlish
2. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig


The tremendous economical and social progress that mankind has achieved throughout the world since the Renaissance is too well known. In the medieval times the world was a stark place. Pestilence and disease would decimate large sections of the population. Slavery was widespread and men would subjugate fellow men. Suspected witches would be burnt at the stake. Superstitions were rife and humans were mercilessly subjugated by nature. There were many tragedies like the Spanish Inquisition and incarceration of heretics. A significant change was brought about by the Renaissance.

Renaissance witnessed the emergence of individualism. Art blossomed and numerous painters like Alberti, Verrocchio, his student Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael and Michaelangelo Buanarroti have all created works that are characterized by a kind of impatience and self-assertion. There was a transition from classical to a popular culture, from an idealistic to an empirical Renaissance; from a worship of past humanism to a fierce belief in the human present. The Medici of Florence had given up the medieval ideal of an unapproachable godhead, but man and nature were still remote ideals to them. The self-made men of the new Renaissance wanted to grasp Man and nature through the senses, physically, in handfuls. The men of the Renaissance were interested in what was new. They were not willing to look back: their look was outward and forward into nature. They looked at her with two passions: a passion for the exact, which turned many men towards mathematics, and a passion for the actual, which urged them to experiment. These two strands, the logical and experimental, characterized the entire nature of artistic and scientific activity and have remained the two sinews of scientific method ever since. Thus there was a concomitant rise of empirical science and the close attention mankind paid to nature. Thanks to the Renaissance ‘The fitness of the individual, his worth and capacity, were of more weight than all the laws and usages that prevailed..’

The importance of what I have mentioned till now cannot be underestimated. Renaissance saw the sudden flowering of both art and science. This was no accident and the fact that both progressed together only underscores the importance and the intense need of both the spheres of human intellectual activity. Leonardo da Vinci’s works, especially his anatomical drawings with the hollows and blood vessels in the head are reputed to be so exact that even today it is striking to compare them point by point with X-ray photographs and with photographs taken with radioactive tracers. His notes reveal that he performed autopsies on corpses, a practice forbidden by the Church during his time. His artistic explorations were entirely scientific. His scientific personality helped him seek the unity under the chaos of natural phenomena but his artistic sensibility made him leap to the concrete and the particular. He made the artist’s eye for meaningful detail become a part of the essential equipment of the scientist. Observation of nature and nature’s laws revolutionized science. New realizations have dawned upon the Human Consciousness from time to time. The world was discovered to be round rather than flat, the earth was found to go round the sun, gravity force was recognized and a theory of electromagnetism to explain various phenomena like light, magnetism and electricity was formulated. Space and time were unified. Time was not a universal standard but was found to be relative depending on the frame of reference. Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle, Shrodinger Wave Equation and quantum mechanics gave a new description of reality recognizing that perhaps an observer influences and changes the nature of reality! It was also discovered that LIFE as we know it had not existed throughout. Fossils were discovered. It was found that life had evolved and Man is a very recent appearance on the face of the earth. Scientific investigations also established that Earth, far from being the centre of the universe, is just one of the planets revolving around the Sun which is just an average star among the millions located in a remote corner of one of the spiral arms of a galaxy called the Milky Way which is just one of the millions of galaxies in the universe Science has transformed Man, the society and his beliefs.

Credulous Parochials!

If a liberal city-slicker chooses to lead an innocent city dweller with strong parochial and rabid religious feelings down the garden path, it is amusing how easily he can be fooled, especially if the bait chosen is something that stirs up strong emotions – like language or patriotism. The victim is willing to swallow the whole thing hook, line and sinker (thanks Vasu!).

I happened to be seated with Vikram Trivedi, a migrant to Bangalore from Roorkee, in Koshy’s Restaurant, Bangalore one evening. As the conversation rolled on, it turned to what in common Indian parlance is referred to as ‘Co-brother’. His Co-brother’s sister had supposedly moved from Florida to Baltimore…

And that was when I decided to intervene.

“You would be interested to know how that town got its name!” I remarked casually.

“Well, actually, it so happened that a large Brahmin family had moved to certain settlements in Washington just after America decided to launch its war of independence!” I spoke on, adding “they had in fact boarded an English vessel that set sail from Calcutta, chiefly intending to settle in the Carribean Islands.”

“Really?” asks Trivedi.

“Before they were to arrive in the Carribeans, the Head of the family - a man called Gokul Nath Sharma - heard about greener pastures in the Americas…” I went on hoodwinking him, “and one thing led to another and it was the first Indian family that was to settle in what is now known as Washington!”

My friend felt quite thrilled about a first ‘Brahmin’ family in the U.S. of A and that too from near his own hometown!

“Later, as the Governor Sutcliffe decided to move out of Washington and into strange territory, the large group of settlers that included this large Brahmin family migrated and established a settlement in what is now Maryland”.

“The settlers would rely for their supplies on travelers who used to move inward from the coast, and who would transport imported items fetched from overseas.”

“And this large Brahmin family with its orthodox Hindu practices felt a strong need for many buckets to attend to their daily ablutions.”

“Not being very familiar with the English word ‘bucket’ he used the Hindi word for it and asked the Governor to get more of them from the coast!”

“One thing led to another, and due to garbled communication and various confusions associated with the Hindi word for ‘bucket’, and in seeking the destination for the consignment the town came to be called ‘Baltimore’!”

“Achcha? I didn’t know that! Chalo! Apna Hindi padh se ek American shehar ka naam to huaa!” exclaimed my friend in exultation and swelling with Hindu pride!

xxx

LeT (Local HQ ?)

COULD THIS BE THE LOCAL HEADQUARTERS OF LASHKAR IN BANGALORE ?

Tried Eloping - Sought this guy's help !

Just two days ago, I tried eloping with a girl, but the girl's father caught me in the act. He was furious! I sought the help of this hairdresser to deal with the father ! This barber promises 'Girls Bap Cutting' ! You too can use him.