Temple codes.

I read a piece of news on the front page of a daily that a Dalit boy was slapped by a Brahmin priest for helping himself to 'vibhuthi' from the untended aarti plate,and that the priest has been booked under IPC and may be booked under stringent laws relating to untouchability.

I am a Brahmin an Iyengar, supposed to have descended from one of the 74 disciples of the foremost preceptor Sri Ramanuja, who systematised all the temple rituals. My great grand father was a Mahamahopadya in Visishta dwaitam. Yet I dare not venture into the sanctum sanctorium .My lineage has no doubt impressed some priests who were patient enough to lend their ears , but that wasn't persuasive enough to to make them open the gate leading to the sanctum sanctorium , to me or to the male members of my family, even in those temples where I have given generous donations.

My colour[ light] or my attire --sungudi saree with diamond ear pins the sign posts ,alerting any one even a mile off, to my caste status or my age 50 plus carries no recommendation to my entry into the sanctum sanctorium of even the smallest temple of the remotest areas in here.

I have been shooed away rudely , like a stray cat by some priests , half my age when on such occasions I unwarily and emotionally entered the sanctum . Their brusque attitude was unsavoury and has pained me also.

This is the mind set in here. The priests are the guardians and keepers of the purity and sanctity of inner sanctum , idols and all the puja utensils and materials and most of them are fiercely possessive and protective about this.This is how it is!

Ps. i am neither condoning the uncharitable and mindless act of violence nor overtly censuring the lack of knowledge and sensitivity to temple codes but relating my own experiences.

Survivors

I spied a pale green parrot, dive into the black bole of a huge tree beak first , early in the morning . This tree isn't in a temple compound in some remote village , where the traffic is only a stray dog or a passing cycle or buried in groves and glades in the country side with very little human habitations,but in the heart of the city where the roar of traffic is like a sonic boom and the pollution level that is measured in suspended particle etc, etc, that goes beyond my head , is one of the highest in the country!

Groups of parrots were creating a merry racket over tree tops,audible only because traffic is light early in the day, whilst squirrels scurried across the busy road scampering precariously over branches describing long arches over the tumultuous street below with the leaves forming a shimmering green brocade jacquard canopy.

And honey bees hovered around pink panneer roses , white Sampangi's and aromatic jasmine flowers , strung into garlands by flower sellers at the temple gates at the same road, undeterred by the risk of being squashed or transported away to places far from their hives , along with the flowers packed into plastic covers and handed over!

These tiny animals so pleasant to the eye are perfectly at home in these thunderous envirionments and have been raising families in succession dating from and lasting to several generations without any apparent mutations!

The wonder of life!

sun-- rest

I saw you set as a huge mellow red ball in the western sky after painting the sky for hours in gorgeous slashes of hues. Now you are up, barely after 12 hours ,rising as a orange ball and slowly becoming a dazzling golden one , slipping reams of golden threads through tender green leaflets!

My body aches, my mind is dumb and my spirit is numb and I 'd like to linger on in the womb of my bed. Tiring of my routine.

Aren't you ever tempted to linger on in your bed amidst the velvety night sky with diamonds as your night light, just a few minutes longer, to roll and loll ,savouring the lassitude and the well deserved rest after the punishing work you are called to do day after day , for eons?

Al the books I have read haven't a single record of you ever playing truant, even once! 1000 years hence[3011] some one would look up and wonder in the manner I am so doing now!

Dear sun have you no rest?Is there no one to relieve or substitute, you?

Are we humans so selfish that our longings will never let you skip your beat?

A stab of shame. [ sujataism]

The streets were deserted as ,it usually is on a Sunday.Hoping to beat the skin scorching heat of the day to come before my usual morning beat I walked on savouring the deliciously cool breeze rustling through the avenue trees, a surprise of a surprise in mid summer,masking the heat that lay ahead that would turn water flowing from taps,too scalding hot to touch!

As I hurried on with my exercise I saw two tiny coal black puppies , nudging each other and snipping at one another on the pavement.Few feet away was their mother , absolutely black , licking four more identical sooty puppies behind their ears as they fed.The golden brown dog, obviously its mate, that usually stalks this road, lay sprawled next to it, enjoying its nap undisturbed.There were no passing vehicles ---two wheelers or rag pickers or dogs to engage its attention and challenge its dominance.

Seeing this large litter of puppies I couldn't but help thinking that the corporations claims published on the dailies that they had sterilised all stray dogs on the cities streets,was after all only a tall one.Just then the black stray looked up at me.

Its eyes were not fierce or angry at my long and hard stare but sad and pleading with a look that appeared to have divined my thoughts and seemed to say'"Like you , have I also not the right to experience motherhood, at least once?"
A stab of shame rent through me and I quickened my pace dabbing my eyes.

None.

If a woman loses her husband she is known as a widow.If a man loses his wife he is known as a widower. If a man or woman loses a child there is no name to denote this. It was and is simply too awful even to contemplate such a situation.

Age.

Blue and white is a beauty sight!

Blue sari and cotton like white hair ,is a sorry sight.

Who may have once been a feast to the every ones sight,

Is now like a stray beast wandering on the street!

Unnoticed , uncared for and a sore to the sight!

Aura.

Revelling in adulation and acclaims for an act done by another , the aura that is donned by default ,

Is like the illusion of flowers blooming on a leafy shrub , incapable of producing flowers , fallen on it by the over hanging branches of a flowering tree!