WHAT, IF OUR DREAMS COME TRUE! AN UNCOMMON MEETING WITH LORD SIVA

“What, If Our Dreams Come True!” is an Epic-style novel written by me. It is my first novel in English. It is my first full-fledged, published novel too.

What this novel is about

We all have dreams – both pleasant and unpleasant. Many psychoanalysts say that dreams result from our deep-rooted memories, emotional impacts from our past experiences, and our desires. Many times, we wish if only our dreams really came true. Other times, we pray that our dreams never come true.

We are all sensitive to things happening around us. This novel is an outcome of my anguish, my aspirations, my dreams and my emotional disturbances over many events. I was inspired by many news reports, books and articles of a few famous authors and columnists, and teaching from my gurus, to write this novel.

I believe, we can all collectively make this Earth, a better place to live in. We only want to be inspired. We await a trigger. We are all connected in some way. Relationship is the most important thing in life, and I believe it is worthwhile sacrificing anything and everything for the sake of relationship, though I myself struggle, imperfectly, towards this goal.

To achieve anything worthwhile, our physical, mental and psychological strength alone are not going to be sufficient. One needs spiritual strength too. One needs Grace. One needs Blessings.

Now, this story is about Poorna Chandran….

Poorna Chandran@Poornan, the narrator of the story in the novel starts off his life as a naïve, village teen, around the year 1945. Everything changes for him one day. He has severe stomach pain. Medicines fail to give him relief. All of a sudden, Lord Siva appears in his dreams and promises to cure him instantly on a condition that Poornan meets with him in seven of HIS places. His stomach pain is gone. The village astrologer opines that Poornan shouldn’t ignore Lord Siva’s ordain, lest he invites HIS wrath. So, on his advice, Poornan sets out along the banks of the river Tamirabarani – the perennial, sacred river of Tirunelveli District of Southern Tamil Nadu – to meet Lord Siva.

His first destination is Courtallam, famous for its waterfalls, herbs and siddhiks and most importantly, Chithra Sabhai, one of the seven abodes of Lord Siva. There, he encounters one siddhik who changes everything for him in his life. Incredible, nerve-racking experiences happen to Poornan during his encounter with the siddhik.

Armed with his experience at Courtallam, Poornan moves on to six more places along the river Tamirabarani. In each of these places, he has something, very significant, waiting to happen.

What happens in those places? You must read the entire novel to know………….

Epilogue

It took nearly two and half years for me to complete this novel in all respects. The novel took me to several small villages, towns, and temples along the river Tamirabarani and I gained richly from my visits, about my place.

The river Tamirabarani is, probably, the only river of Tamil Nadu to originate, run through, irrigate and merge with the sea within the State of Tamil Nadu. I read with great interest a book “Tamirabarani Mahatmiyam” published nearly a century back, lent to me by retired Professor Sri Sitaraman, one of my well-wishers in Tirunelveli. I read with great awe the mythological stories associated with the river. Another book “Tamirabarani Karaiyinile” written by Sri Muthalankurichi Kamarasu gave me a lot of insight about the river and several pilgrim centers around the river. This book, particularly, encouraged me to visit the ‘Nava Kailasa’ and ‘Nava Thirupathi’ kshetras on the banks of the river. I was only stopped at Sernthamangalam along the river, beyond which, I was advised I wouldn’t be able to go on my own as the river merges with the sea a few miles down the village.

I waited for more than a year to peep into the historic Chithra Sabhai and its paintings at Courtallam, which was closed for a long time for renovation works.

An Islamic stranger, whom I accidentally met in a tea shop at Kayalpattinam gave me very interesting information about the place and its surroundings that inspired me to pen a whole episode in this book.

In Cheranmahadevi, I had to wait for more than an hour for the temple priest to arrive to open the Siva temple on the banks of the river. The railway bridge across the river, touching the temple and the surrounding greenery inspired me to write another whole episode.

I learnt a lot from the priests of the magnificent Siva temples at Brahmadesam and Tiruppudaimaruthur. The bathing ghat along the river Gadana, a tributary of the river Tamirabarani at Tiruppudaimaruthur inspired me to write another episode of this novel.

I was awe-struck by the architecture of the Siva temple at Brahmadesam, built during the Rajendra Chozha period, almost a millennium back. The tall ‘Maruthu’ trees lined along the steep banks of the river at Ambasamudram formed a tantalizing arcade and lead one to the other Siva temple built during the same Chozha times. This, along with the steep stone steps just outside the Siva temple at Papanasam inspired me to write another episode.

When I crossed the old check dam along the river at Srivaikuntam and entered the town, I marveled at the uniqueness of the place – a holy place for both Vaishnavaites and Shivaites, a place where Lord Siva and Lord Narayana confluence – as a standing message about the Oneness of God. A place where all souls merge into One – Vaikuntam.

Rather, I can now write another entire book about how I wrote this novel.

I thank God for inspiring me to write this unique novel and I remain blessed.

“WHAT, IF OUR DREAMS COME TRUE! AN UNCOMMON MEETING WITH LORD SIVA” book is available on www.amazon.com as a kindle version and on www.pothi.com as print version.

I intend to serialize the novel through my website www.tnneelakantan.com and one chapter will be released every Saturday. I request readers’ to send their comments to info@tnneelakantan.com or neelkant16@yahoo.com

“Poornamadha Poornamidham Poornaath Poornam Udhachyathe!

Poornasya Poornamaadhaaya Poornamevaa Vachishyathe!

Ohm Shanthi, Shanthi, Shanthi hi!”

*****

Why we in Tamil Nadu are still unable to eradicate begging in public places? Chapter 39 of "What If Our Dreams Come True!"

I was returning from Madurai by train, a couple of days ago. At Thiruthangal station, an adolescent boy, his hands crippled somewhat, came begging window after window, with very little success. When he knew that I was about to take out my wallet to offer him some money, he made a request to give him ten rupees so that he could eat something for the day.....................http://neel48.blogspot.in/2014/11/why-we-in-tamil-nadu-are-still-unable_8.html

Here you go with:"What If Our Dreams Come True! An Uncommon Meeting with Lord Siva" - Chapter 39
                                                 ******

Chapter 39: Story of Ambika

Ambika was in her early teen-age. She had lost her father when she was only three or four. Her mother brought her up amidst tremendous challenges. Her mother hailed from U.P and married her father when he was working in a construction company there. He lost his job when he lost his limbs in an accident in the construction site. Vexed, he decided to return to Gangaikondan in Tirunelveli district, his native place, to make a living. But soon, calamity struck the family once again. He fell sick with an unknown disease and died. Her mother had liked the simplicity of the place and people. She decided to stay on, as she had already familiarized herself to the place. She was very pleasing to people and hard-working. She managed a number of odd jobs and somehow pulled on. She took care of Ambika as best as she could. Ambika grew up as a very attractive girl.

Durai at Bombay was her only lonely cousin and visited them quite often. He always brought a number of gifts for her. Durai was at least ten years elder to Ambika. He claimed that he had a decent job earning well. Ambika and her mother were fed with a large fanciful image about his job and his life in Bombay. He talked eloquently about Hindi movies and his connections to the film industry. He hinted that Ambika could easily become a popular film star besides a great singer. Ambika spoke Hindi quite fluently coming from her mother and enjoyed visits from Durai.

So, when Ambika came to age and when Durai suggested about his marrying Ambika, her mother agreed readily, as she thought that the fatherless Ambika might see some comfort in life if she married Durai. She didn’t mind the age difference. 

Though Ambika liked Durai, she was confused. She took him as a brother and friend. Besides, Bombay was a huge city and she would have to live among total strangers. Gangaikondan was a nice little place and she was reluctant to move away.

But her mother persisted. Durai visited more often and applied pressure. Having very little choice, finally Ambika agreed reluctantly to marry Durai. Their marriage was held in a simple ceremony at the local temple and Durai packed off with Ambika to Bombay the very same week. He assured to come back soon to take her mother too so that they could all live together.

During their travel to Bombay by train, Durai told endless stories about Bombay. Ambika’s initial fears slowly started to vanish. When they landed at Victoria Terminus in Bombay, she was aghast to see the human waves at the railway station. She travelled by a taxi for the first time in her life and felt elated. She looked on with great awe and amazement at the huge buildings, the roads, the people’s dresses, and the vehicles.

When they reached their place and when she was taken to a ten into ten small apartment room that Durai claimed as their residence, she had her first shock and disappointment.

“Bombay is a very costly place I told you! Even to get this pigeon hole, I had spent several hundreds of rupees as ‘pagadi.’ (*Pagadi was a kind of lump sum money deposited with the owner or the previous tenant of the tenement at the time of leasing a building and was a very common practice in Bombay.) His tone had altogether changed once they were inside the ‘ten into ten’ tenement.

She didn’t understand the word ‘pagadi’ and many other things that happened soon after her arrival at their house in Bombay.

From the next day onwards, they had a number of visitors. Durai introduced them as his friends and colleagues. They all constantly stared at Ambika and openly commented on her beauty. She didn’t like their looks and comments from the very beginning. They used a lot of vulgar language in their conversations and she was irritated to know that even Durai enjoyed those conversations. They spoke a mixture of Hindi, Marathi and Tamil. Some of them even teased Ambika and merrily laughed. She noticed mischief in their eyes. But Durai didn’t seem to mind their staring looks and pricking comments. Ambika felt something was wrong. When one of them touched her, she was shocked to know that Durai didn’t object.

When they all left, Ambika told Durai that she didn’t approve of his friends’ conduct and chided Durai. “You were a country girl all along. That was why. You will understand everything slowly.” That was all he said.

*****

But Ambika understood very soon. She learnt about Durai’s perverted mind and his evil motives. She felt trapped. She realized that Durai was not what she had been made to believe.

On many days, Durai returned home very late at night. He was drunk, smelled like a rat and behaved roughly to her. He assaulted her sexually and behaved like a beast on bed with her. She understood that his earlier behavior was a façade. She understood that she had been cheated. He started complaining about not having enough money with him to run the family and wanted her to work. She was willing to work and support him, if that could mitigate his financial problems.

One day, Durai took her to a mansion where she was introduced to a rich middle aged person who was said to be looking for an assistant. Durai accepted a generous advance from him and left Ambika in his place, cautioning her to behave well with him.

The same evening Ambika understood why she was brought to that place and before it was dark she ran away from that place. That night, she received her first beating from Durai. The torture continued day after day. He forced her to go with him to different people who were all the same. She had somehow managed to escape at every place.

A little more than a year passed by in pain and agony for her.

She never wanted to reveal her condition to her mother. But the situation was becoming intolerable. So she wrote a letter to her mother hinting her problems. She was shocked when her letter was returned back with the remark ‘undelivered – addressee deceased.’ She cried. She was puzzled why she got no news of her mother’s death. Now she had no one to whom she could tell her woes.

When Durai returned home that night, he was drunk as usual. Ambika told him of her mother’s death. She also complained why no one told her earlier. Durai told her arrogantly that he was already aware that her mother died due to some sickness. He also told her indifferently that he had burnt all the letters received earlier from her mother.

‘You orphan girl! Consider yourself free now to do what I want you to do. You don’t have to fear anyone, anymore.’ He didn’t stop there and continued heaping abuses. Ambika became furious now. She was already grieving and now Durai was adding salt to her wound. In her fury, she went to a corner and returned back with a sickle knife. She raised her sickle knife and wanted to stab Durai regardless of any consequences.

‘How dare you are?’ Durai shouted and those were his last few words. His knees caved in all of a sudden and he fell down heavily on his back. Ambika panicked, threw the sickle knife to a corner, and rushed to hold him. But Durai was already unconscious. She ran to her neighbor who quickly managed to rush him to the nearby government hospital. Durai had his last few breaths on his way to the hospital where he was pronounced dead.

Even before Ambika could arrange for his cremation, she had the second shock of her life. She had sudden nausea and giddiness. The neighbor suspected that she was probably pregnant and the same day the doctor confirmed her pregnancy.

Ambika was in total disarray. She had no money even to cremate Durai and she was now pregnant. Somehow, with the help of a few friendly neighbors, she arranged to cremate Durai and the same night she boarded a train to Madras without a ticket.  On the way, she was accosted by many, including the ticket examiner. ‘Are there no good men and women?’ she cursed.

Back in Gangaikondan she learnt that her mother died a few months ago in great distress. Ambika had no place to go and roamed around places aimlessly. Everywhere she found people ready to use and exploit her and her good looks. In course of time, she delivered a baby girl in a government maternity hospital.

The baby resembled Durai more than herself and it reminded Ambika of her painful days at Bombay. One day, while sitting on a pavement with her baby she was dejectedly singing an old song and some people passing by threw a few coins and notes in front of her. All of a sudden she rediscovered that she could sing well. She went from place to place singing and that brought her some money to buy milk for the baby and at the least, one meal a day. She never bothered to buy tickets while travelling by train and she reached Cheranmahadevi one day without any clue about what lay ahead.

*****

Why we in Tamil Nadu are still unable to eradicate begging in public places?

I was returning from Madurai by train, a couple of days ago. At Thiruthangal station, an adolescent boy, his hands crippled somewhat, came begging window after window, with very little success. When he knew that I was about to take out my wallet to offer him some money, he made a request to give him ten rupees so that he could eat something for the day.....................http://neel48.blogspot.in/2014/11/why-we-in-tamil-nadu-are-still-unable_8.html

Here you go with:"What If Our Dreams Come True! An Uncommon Meeting with Lord Siva" - Chapter 37

Chapter 37

In the last three months, I had no thoughts other than being with Ambalam. By the grace of Lord Siva, my visions came true. Ambalam miraculously recovered from his stroke. His movements were free now and his speech very intelligible.

“Shall we make a move?” I asked him one day.

Without raising any further question, he said, “I am ready now!”

I had a feeling that I needed Ambalam much more than he needed me. Lord Siva had shown me a project and Ambalam would be an asset.

Radhika gave us a tearful farewell. What a magnanimous girl she was! Single handedly, she had managed Ambalam for a few years without any expectations. We assured her we would soon come back to her for a purpose.

When we reached the bus stand, Mallika was waiting for us there, with tears in her eyes. She knew we were leaving. She had frequented Ambalam more often, when I had stayed with him. Once I asked her whether my talking to her ‘demon’ would improve things and she said the demon was incorrigible. I didn’t know what really was going wrong between them. May be the time had not come for a solution or they had still not learnt anything from their life. ‘Mallika akka was very nice to me, no doubt. Was she equally nice to her husband too?’

We were waiting for a bus to take us to Cheranmahadevi. Somewhere in the background, we heard the voice of a woman singing. We turned around and saw a small crowd in another corner of the bus stand.

The three of us silently exchanged a curious look and slowly walked to the corner from where the music was coming. At the centre of the crowd there was a young mother sitting on barren ground and singing an old Hindi film song. She was holding a baby on her lap. She was fair, tall and looked agreeably beautiful. A worn out cloth was spread in front of her. Though Hindi language was rarely spoken and understood in our State, people in the crowd seemed to relish her Hindi songs. Her voice was very melodious.

“It is from the film ‘Awara’ by Raj Kapoor and Nargis  in 1951 and the music is by Shankar Jaikishen.  Have you not heard the song ‘Ghar Aaya Mera Pardesi’?” asked Ambalam excitedly.

How could I know? I had not watched a movie for years. Ambalam was in the army and might have known Hindi. He must have heard this song earlier.

“She sings flawlessly. The same tune, same voice, same energy.” Ambalam was full of excitement.

We went closer. People were moving in and out of the crowd. Hardly anyone seemed to be dropping money for the girl. The little baby was dozing, listening to her singing.

When the song was over Ambalam went closer and told her, “You sing so well. You have a very melodious voice. May Lord Siva bless you! How old is this baby?”

“She is just going to be two now. Please give us some money. No one seems to take pity on us. The baby didn’t have any worthwhile food in the last two days.”

Ambalam looked at me as I put my hands into my pocket. There was some money for our bus tickets. Nothing more.

Understanding our predicament, Mallika immediately withdrew a small purse from inside her blouse, removed a ten rupee note and gave it to that lady. Those days, ten rupees was a big money for Mallika.

“Can you come with us to Cheranmahadevi?” asked Ambalam, without even consulting me.

Mallika gave an assuring look to that lady.

Without second thoughts, the lady bundled her small cloth and was ready to go.

“Can I get some milk for my girl before we go?” That was the only question she had. “You may call me Ambika, Right!” She went to a small tea shop turning back every now and then as though she wanted to make sure that we waited for her.

So, when we boarded the bus, we were a small team of mendicants that included me. Mallika waved her hands emotionally as the bus left. “Keep in touch!” we heard her shouting from behind.

*****
Did you like it?

Do you want to read further?

Buy the book from Amazon.com using the link
http://www.amazon.com/What-Our-Dreams-Come-True-ebook/dp/B00J6ZLNBU/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1416014652&sr=8-1&keywords=what+if+our+dreams+come+true&pebp=1416014650535

Why we in Tamil Nadu are still unable to eradicate begging in public places?

I was returning from Madurai by train, a couple of days ago. At Thiruthangal station, an adolescent boy, his hands crippled somewhat, came begging window after window, with very little success. When he knew that I was about to take out my wallet to offer him some money, he made a request to give him ten rupees so that he could eat something for the day.....................http://neel48.blogspot.in/2014/11/why-we-in-tamil-nadu-are-still-unable_8.html

Here you go with:"What If Our Dreams Come True! An Uncommon Meeting with Lord Siva" - Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Story of Ambalam

Ambalam was young and robust and was in the army. He loved Roja, the little village girl who just attained age. Whenever he came to his village for vacation, he started pestering her parents about his wanting to marry her. Roja was distantly related to him too. Though her parents had a soft corner for him, they vacillated because of his occupation in the army and the big age gap between them. Roja never revealed her mind. He had known her from the day she was born. Ambalam was already thirteen when she was born. He had physically helped her parents a lot during the delivery. When she was growing and maturing, he had played with her almost every day. His initial tender affection for Roja slowly turned into a kind of love for her. But when Roja attained age, her parents gradually prevented her making contact with him. Knowing her and her family so intimately, he never thought marrying Roja would be an issue. Roja neither said ‘yes’ nor ‘no’ for the marriage. Ambalam thought she was still a child and gave them more time to decide favorably. However Ambalam’s parents were restless about his marriage, as he was already nearing thirty.

“I am willing to wait for Roja.” He always answered. His parents too tried to persuade Roja’s parents, but they were evasive about the marriage. Ambalam always believed Roja was his girl.

But when the news reached him that Roja had eloped with another villager Ponnan, nearly of his age, Ambalam became furious and mad. He deserted his army job and ran to his village. He felt all his dreams were shattered.

‘What did Ponnan have that I didn’t have?’ This question rocked his mind. Roja’s parents too were in great distress and admitted their mistake in not agreeing to Ambalam marrying her. They knew where Roja was, though they themselves didn’t get in touch with her. Ambalam gathered her whereabouts.

In his frenzy, he went after Roja and when he met her, she was in an intimate and awkward union with Ponnan. Ambalam lost his mind, took out a small pistol that he had stolen from the army and shot at Ponnan. It was early morning then. Ambalam had no serious thoughts about what his action could bring to him. He was full of rage and he was mad at Roja. He kneeled, pleaded and shouted at her to come with him. Roja cried aloud. In the bedlam, neighbors had heard the sounds, came rushing, dashed Ponnan to the hospital and he was just saved in the nick of the moment. He survived, but not before his lower part of the body completely paralyzed.

Ambalam was arrested. Roja refused to give any clear witnessing statement to the police and court. She never raised her accusing finger at Ambalam during the entire proceedings.

And, she was pregnant too. When she delivered the baby, she lived no more, leaving the baby motherless. The little baby was taken away by Roja’s parents and was growing in their custody.

Ambalam spent his years in the jail like a lunatic. Ponnan was in the hospital for a few years before he died one day. When Ambalam was finally released from the jail early, due to his excellent conduct, he had already lost all his desires for anything in life. Somehow, he never thought of ending his life. He initially became a nomad and then a ‘sanyasin.’ He believed that something was in store for him and he was looking for that moment. He lived on the meager alms provided by those visiting the temple and never complained about anything in life. He spoke very little. I was the only one with whom he ever had any lengthy conversation in his ‘sanyasin’ life.

                                                                                  *****

As Ambalam slowly completed his story to me, he asked me, “Now that you know my story – and you are the only one to know - tell me, what can I do for you?”

I looked at him understandingly. I believed I was nobody to judge whatever happened in his life. He seemed to understand too. We remained silent for some time looking at each other. The next question came involuntarily from me.

“Why do people beg in our country?”

“Begging has a long history. There was always a divide between those who have and those who don’t. Earlier days generally, the kings used to take care of the most poor and arranged for providing them food. They established choultries for this. Then, there are those who had relinquished worldly pleasures and became ‘sanyasins’ (monks) and they always went for ‘biksha’. Going for ‘biksha’ gave these monks a sense of humility and gratitude. I have heard about Buddhist monks living on alms and the most notable among them was Gautama Buddha himself. But only somewhere in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, poverty rates went up abnormally and begging became widely visible world over especially in Europe. While I was in the army, I have heard about beggars in England and many other European countries. In Far East, more particularly in countries having strong roots of Buddhism, one could see householders going to temples every morning to give alms to monks.

But in our country the kind of begging that you most see and detest is of recent origin in the last two centuries. It is a curse. Many poor people genuinely need help. But many have taken begging as a profession, due to their laziness. It pays to be lazy now. The people in power too seem to encourage keeping people poor. They constantly feed the poor directly and indirectly and continue to keep them poor. Not much is done to improve their economic condition. Every successive government seems to be vying with each other trying to discover ways and means of giving away freebies to people thus making them beggars all the time.

In many advanced countries begging is banned and prohibited. But I have also heard about begging going on in America. In New York and other big cities, in railway stations, road junctions, I have heard of poor people playing musical instruments for tips.

Yes, begging is bad. But, I have lost all desires in life and I beg only to keep this physical body intact. That too, people come to me and I don’t go out begging.”

For the first time I saw another side of Ambalam. His clarity and knowledge was quite amazing.

“I want to put an end to begging.” I told him in simple terms.

“Quite a Himalayan task! People need to change. You know something. Go to Punjab. You won’t see any Punjabis begging. Punjabis –especially Sardarjis - as a clan are people with much self-respect and self-esteem. If you can spot even one Sardar beggar in our country I will give you a lakh of rupees.”

I agreed with him. “But, why is it that in our State, we see beggars in every nook and corner?”

“The simple fact is, there are very poor people. The government doesn’t help them and so they choose the next best. They exploit our religious and spiritual sentiments. We believe, we go to heaven when we feed poor. Then begging becomes an easy way of life. That is why you find beggars in large numbers in front of temples. They prick the conscience of the devotees at the temple.”

I recalled my meeting the person begging at the Cheranmahadevi temple and his reply to my question.

I had never realized that Ambalam could have such profound and in-depth understanding and wisdom.

Something flashed in my mind for a moment and I saw myself closing my eyes. I was lost in thought for a while. In my vision I saw Ambalam getting up from his sick bed and walking away freely, smiling and waving his hands to me. I was startled and opened my eyes. I became silent for a long time, looking straight into his eyes.

“What are you looking at?” Ambalam asked, even as he tried to wink his eyes as though he was unable to bear direct eye contact with me.

I didn’t answer and continued to silently hold his hands. In the next few moments, Ambalam closed his eyes and went to sleep without a further word. Radhika tiptoed behind me, signaled to me to come out.

When we were outside the small hut, I asked Radhika, “Would you have a problem if I stay here for a few days and help Ambalam? Will I be a burden?”

“This is your place, Ayya. Please stay. It would be of great help. I had been managing Ambalam without any male support for quite long. Please stay.”

In the next three months, Ambalam’s health changed dramatically and miraculously.

And one day, he walked freely without any support. Lord Siva made that possible. After all, the lord too needed support from humans to fulfill his mission.

                                                                                    *****

Why we in Tamil Nadu are still unable to eradicate begging in public places?

I was returning from Madurai by train, a couple of days ago. At Thiruthangal station, an adolescent boy, his hands crippled somewhat, came begging window after window, with very little success. When he knew that I was about to take out my wallet to offer him some money, he made a request to give him ten rupees so that he could eat something for the day.....................

Here you go with:"What If Our Dreams Come True! An Uncommon Meeting with Lord Siva" - Chapter 35

Chapter 35

As I stepped out of the District Collector’s office, I remembered Ambalam, the mendicant at Papanasam who shared with me the gory stories about the flash floods in the river Tamirabarani. My accidental meeting him eventually led to my long stay at Papanasam for seven years and we ended up, eventually, building water dams, to prevent flash floods in those hilly Podhigai regions. 

As I walked along the raised banks of the river Tamirabarani at Kokkirakulam where the District Collector’s office was housed in Tirunelveli, I passed by the offices and courts of the District and sessions judges. A cool wind was blowing crisscrossing the river, carrying with it a pleasant aroma from the court canteens that prepared very delicious halwa and vadai. From the elevations, I looked at the serene river below, flowing down quietly. I had heard that the river Tamirabarani never dried up in its history. At the far end behind me, I could see the silhouette of the railway bridge and a train passing over. Thanks to the British, India today had railways, bridges and canals. On the other bank of the river, several pigs were scavenging for food, even while dhobis were busy washing clothes beating them on small rocks. Buffaloes and bullocks were getting a cool bath in the river alongside the people. I walked along the more-than-half-a-century-old Sulochana Mudaliar bridge across Tamirabarani. I remembered someone telling me that several decades back, the philanthropist Sulochana Mudaliar built this bridge, entirely out of his personal wealth, to help villagers cross the river. The bridge was made of stones, brick and mortar and had stood firm over the years. Later, when  the government wanted to lay a new wider bridge across the river, they couldn’t break any of the then existing structures. So they had to change their plan and the design and be satisfied with just widening the already existing bridge, by erecting additional pillars to support them. I reached the central bus stand at Tirunelveli Junction and took a bus to Papanasam where I went straight to my Lord’s temple.

Outside the temple, I searched for Ambalam, but he wasn’t there. I enquired anxiously, with the other fellow mendicants sitting outside the temple. They didn’t seem to know.

I saw Mallika, the flower vendor, beckoning me from the far end. “How are you, thambi? It is a long time since we saw you here. Who are you looking for?” I had remembered this girl and she was much younger when I stayed in Papanasam. She had lost much of her earlier youthful exuberance now. She looked tired. I was concerned.

“What Mallika Akka? What happened to you? You look very tired?  Are you not well?”

“What do I tell you? It is all due to the demon I married a couple of years ago. It is a long story. Forget it. Tell me who are you looking for?”

I asked her about Ambalam. “Do you remember?”

“How do I not remember him? He was one real saint here, among all these fake sadhus. He read my palm and cautioned me about my marriage. I don’t know what powers he had. He seemed to know what was coming to me. But I did not heed to his advice. Now I suffer. Why? What about him?”

“I want to meet him. Where is he now?”

“Oh, you are looking for Ambalam annan! He is in a miserable condition. He had a paralytic stroke and now in bed. The hospital gave up on him mercilessly. I took him to my sister’s place where he is now being taken care of. Very pitiable! My demon at home doesn’t allow me to keep Ambalam with me. I go once in a while to see him. ‘Ayya’, you must see Ambalam. He still remembers you a lot. He would be very happy to see you. He is getting old and I don’t know how long he will survive.”

I didn’t wait for a moment and dashed to her sister’s place.

Ambalam had become a skeleton now. He was lying down on a jute cot, his eyes half closed. When I went near him, he opened his eyes as though he was expecting me. He greeted me with a half-smile. He tried to raise his hand and body, but he was very weak and couldn’t.

“What happened to you, Ambalam? Why didn’t you send word to me?”

His reply was indistinct and it took some time for me to decode. “You were busy with much more important jobs, I knew. You were born for that. Why should I want to disturb your great mission? I would have been an additional burden to you…….Forget it. Tell me, ‘How are you?’ I heard stories about you from Brahmadesam. Tell me what happened there. Was what I heard true? Tell me. Please tell me in your own words.” He breathed heavily and struggled.

Not wanting to disappoint him, I told him what happened at Brahmadesam, avoiding any elaborate description. I also sincerely apologized to him for not having remembered him earlier.

“Never mind! I am happy to see you now again today.” He gasped for breath. I found a jar of water nearby and gave him some water in a tumbler. Radhika, Mallika’s sister watched everything from a distance and brought me some black tea.

“Now that I see you again, I am sure I am going to recover from this stroke. Lord Siva has sent you here for a purpose. Tell me, what can I do for you?”

Somehow, niceties had lost meaning for me and I put the question straight to him. “Would you mind telling me about your past?” I had so far never asked him about his past.

And then he told his story.

*****

Why we in Tamil Nadu are still unable to eradicate begging in public places?

I was returning from Madurai by train, a couple of days ago. At Thiruthangal station, an adolescent boy, his hands crippled somewhat, came begging window after window, with very little success. When he knew that I was about to take out my wallet to offer him some money, he made a request to give him ten rupees so that he could eat something for the day. I was upset by his demand and offered him the customary two-rupee coin from my wallet. Just then, the train started leaving the station and his demand for a ten rupee note kept pounding me for quite some time. My initial irritation about his demand vanished and I regretted not giving him what he wanted. He must have been helpless in making an outrageous demand while begging. What worse thing one can do in life than begging, giving up one’s self-dignity and respect?

Either the same day or sometime around the same day, I read the news in the papers that the government of Tamil Nadu was proposing to start selling many grocery items at half the price under the AMMA scheme. After all, how many selling outlets the government can open? Can they meet the demand of the entire State and its poor? What has the government done to help the real poor who beg on the streets? Tamil Nadu is a unique State where one finds begging still going on strong in many public places even while there is a tall claim of all round progress.

The sight of begging in public places by pathetic people had touched and altered my own conscience over the time. A decade or so back, I was repelled by such sights, but not anymore. Now I offer whatever change I keep in my pocket to whosoever begs me. I don’t know whether it is right to encourage beggars or not, but this is the best I am able to do.

Seeing begging in public places had pricked me time and again that I chose eradicating begging as an important theme for one of the episodes in my novel: WHAT IF OUR DREAMS COME TRUE! AN UNCOMMON MEETING WITH LORD SIVA. This novel was self-published on Amazon.com last year. I thought I would reproduce some excerpts from this Episode in my blog during the next couple of weeks for the avid readers’ benefit.

Here, you go….

Before that, to tell readers briefly, what this novel is about….. Poorna Chandran, or, in short Poornan, gets cured of his acute stomach pain after he had a dream in which Lord Siva appears and ordains his meeting HIM in seven of HIS places. Not wanting to antagonize Lord Siva, he starts with Courtallam, a river town, where he meets with an incredible mystical experience and from there he goes to six more places along the banks of the river Tamirabarani, the perennial river of southern Tamil Nadu. In each of these places, he meets with some unique challenges. How he meets these challenges is the crux of the novel. There are thus seven episodes in the novel.

Here, you really go….. 

********************************************************************************

EPISODE 4

My days with Sri Ammanathar at Cheranmahadevi

Chapter 34

“Don’t you feel bad about begging?”I asked bluntly, looking at the middle aged man sitting outside the Siva temple at Cheranmahadevi. He looked well built, tall and healthy. He wore a small piece of saffron cloth below his waist, exposing his large belly. His whole body was painted with ‘vibhuthi’ and had turned white. His forehead bore a large sized round mark of ‘kumkum’. He had wound around his neck a thick ‘rudraksha mala’ that didn’t appear original. He had fully tonsured his head and shaved his face. 

“No, Ayya. Rather, I feel good!” He too replied swiftly. (‘Ayya’ is a Tamil word to denote ‘sir’)

“But why? Is anything wrong with you? You seem to be physically alright.” I didn’t want to give up on him.

“Why not, Ayya? Life is easy this way. When I was willing to work, they cheated me and browbeat me. Now my life is very comfortable. I make here more than what I need for a day. Besides, you know, I help a lot of people earn punya (good deeds) and attain moksha (salvation) by receiving alms from them. But for people like me, many would be dangling above the boiling oil in the hell.” He laughed aloud and continued, “Which one do you want Ayya?  Heaven or hell? Please offer me something.” His tone was full of sarcasm.

I scrounged my inner shirt pocket, found a one rupee coin and offered it to him. That was the only treasure I had with me at that time.

“But would you come with me if you were offered a place to stay, food to eat, and good clothes to wear?” I was a nomad myself, with no place of my own and with no belongings other than a small shoulder bag. I must be crazy to make an offer to him.

“No! No! You seem to be no different from a few other haughty people who had given me a similar offer before. You ask me to do a lot of menial work and pay me peanuts. Why would I need to be working if I can make a living doing nothing?” He turned his head away from me and looked at a young couple coming out of the temple, “Ayya, Amma please offer me something. Be it punya to you both. May it bring luck to you, O Amma!”

It was obvious that he was not keen to pursue the conversation with me anymore.

I was stubborn, still didn’t want to give up on him and told him sternly, ‘Look, you are going to come with me one day!’ I didn’t wait for his response and left the place.

It was a Pradhosham day. People considered it an auspicious day, to visit Siva temples for the special poojas done to Lord Siva. On these days, a large number of saffron clad people waited outside the temple, near the entrance, carrying a small wooden bowl, expecting people to offer them alms. The temple was crowded and many put coins into their begging bowls. After all, everyone wanted to earn punya and no one desired to go to hell. I noticed that many among those who begged were quite able, but a few were old, disabled, sick or some even lepers. There were many small children too, among them, pestering visitors to the temple for alms. It was very pathetic to see even young children begging. ‘Can I do anything at all to help these children stop begging? I ruminated as I left. An idea was forming in my mind.

*****

“Ayya is calling you inside”, the dawali (the peon) outside the District Collector’s office, beckoned me.

I entered the large spacious office of Govind Singh, the District Collector at Tirunelveli. He was short in stature and looked miniscule, behind his oversized rosewood table.

“Please come! What new issues have you brought to me? I am sure you have something interesting.” He welcomed me with a broad smile.

Govind Singh, an Indian Administrative Service (IAS) Officer, belonged to Kapurthala in Punjab and was quite young for his official position. When he passed his IAS exams, he was pleasantly surprised to learn that he was allotted to Madras Cadre, by the Central Government. He had spent his school days in Madras when his father ran a small shop for automobile spare parts. His father died in a scooter accident and the family was forced to move back to Kapurthala. When he joined the government services in Madras, he still remembered bits of Tamil he had learnt during his early school days and that helped him a lot in his job. Linguistic chauvinism was the order of the day and the government expected all officers to use Tamil in all their official communication. Govind Singh’s Tamil was funny, but he managed. He was very simple, bold, tough and upright - called a spade a spade. But behind his tough postures, he had a kind heart that only few understood.

Govind Singh had joined the district administration only a couple of months ago, but he had heard about me and we became friends from our very first acquaintance. Thanks to Lord Siva and his projects, a nomad and the District Collector became friends.

Govind waited for a response from me and I was never good at being circumspect. “Can you please identify and allot some vacant land in Cheranmahadevi, for a good cause?”

He smiled wickedly. He knew my next project had already begun. Still, he asked, “What for?”

I explained. In less than seven minutes I was out of his room, feeling confident, looking forward to challenging years ahead. Lord Siva always had people working for Him.

*****