Reality Vs Truth


True Life!!!


I woke up early in the morning and was little bit anxious about life and was day dreaming for some time and after that I have connected to Internet to chat with some of my friends online.

Normally I will speak with my friends in US and Canada during night time but today I felt like speaking with them in the morning as it’s the weekend and all of them will find some time during weekend only.

I have gone through my orkut page and didn’t find anything interesting and after that I have checked Face book which becomes very famous now a days and you can find some interesting things like what the morning, afternoon and evening recipes in their home are and their plans for this weekend as well.

I have checked my linked in page for any of the updates regarding Documentum (The technology which I am working with and the technology which I like very much).

I found this post in one of my friends Google Buzz.

It’s a story of a Brahmin gal who loved a non-Brahmin and due to father’s compulsion married a Brahmin guy and leading a perfect life with little happiness!!

(Some tamil words included)…

 

Dearest Appa,

27th Jan’1965

 

Hope this letter finds you, Amma, Raji and Seenu in good health. The weather here in New York City is icy cold. But Avar sollraar- I have missed this winter’s biting cold. I still wish I had seen the snow… But then, I still wish I had not left Trichy at all. I do miss Trichy, Appa. You, Amma, Raji, Seenu, pakkatthaathu Rama, Vikatan,Ucchi Pillaiyaar Koil, filter coffee, Holy Cross College, the Maths Department and of course Sakthi. I know you wish I hadn’t brought his name in this letter.But not to worry Appa, I understand that you got me married to Visu because you thought it was best for your daughter.

I still remember Amma wiping her silent tears with her madisaar thalappu and you shouting at me the day I told you about Sakthi.Later, when the initial shock wore off you patiently listed umpteen reasons why I should not marry Sakthi. I agree Appa, that 20 is too young to decide, that Raji and Seenu would have been affected greatly by my ‘mistake’, the Agrahaaram would have scoffed at you… a meat eater was not a good match for someone who had never even tasted onion and garlic. The reasons were innumerous. I knew you’d still have objected and offered other reasons even if he had become a Dhigambara monk.

Visu on the other hand, wore a poonal, he is the son of Neelakanta Sastri, an Engineer and he researched about computers which is what made you jump for this alliance. Am not complaining Appa, Visu is a nice man. Tell Amma that I could not try her kozhakkattai recipe this Pongal because coconuts were too expensive and Avar nenacchar that it was ridiculous.

Anyway, we went out on Sankaranthi day and dined out. He thought it would be a good idea to invite the Chatterjees also. But I didn’t speak Bengali and Mrs.Chatterjee spoke English in an accent that comes with living years in America. Hence I made myself busy with the menu card. They ordered various species of fish,shrimp and a lot more of items I had never seen in my life. I ordered orange juice and a sandwich. The other diners thought it was queer coming to a seafood restaurant and settling for a sandwich. That day, I learnt that Avar prefer pannradhu beef, pork, bacon and seafood.

Do you know, Appa… Sakthi gave up meat because of me? I didn’t ask, he just did. But then, Sakthi is not Neelakanta Sastri’s son and that made it impossible for Subramania Iyer’s daughter Kalyani to marry him.I will keep you posted on what happens here. I don’t think I can make it to Seenu’s Upanayanam. Tell Amma not to get me a pattu podavai for the poonal, I don’t use them here. I wore it once and felt like a clown here.

 

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

 

Dearest Appa,
20th Oct’1968

 

We are fine here. Gautam is speaking his first words and I swear they sounded like ‘Dosai’. But Visu claims it’s just gibberish. From your previous letter, I gather that pakkathatthu Rama is married and settled in Jamshedpur. Nice to know that. Please find out her address from Saarada maami and write it to me. I want to keep in touch with her. I hope Raji is happy with her husband in Madras. I spoke to her last month, great to know that she has a phone. Do tell Seenu to study well and prepare for his school final exams.

Raji also told me that Sakthi is married now. I wish him good luck, but I could not convey the message to him. Raji refused to be the messenger and I know you have severed ties with Sakthi’s father, your long term friend Sankaravel, thanks to me. I hear his wife is his cousin… He must have succumbed to his mother’s wishes.

How did Avani Avittam go? Visu’s mother gave me a bunch of new poonals for Avani Avittam but Visu was in Boston that day. He wouldn’t have used it anyway, I haven’t seen him wear one in the last three years. Gautam is now playing with the spool of thread- mere thread it is, what else can I call it? Gautam will not even know what it signifies, I guess.

Visu is making sure Gautam grows up listening to English only. He says it will make his life easier. But I do read out passages from Ponniyin Selvan and Bharathiyaar’s poetry when I am alone with him. It’s more of reading to myself, I guess. I actually got that poetry book as a present from Sakthi, it still has his scrawling signature in the first page.

By the way, Visu saw that book and asked me about Sakthi, I told him. Hold your breath Appa, he didn’t throw me out of the house. He is a good man, no question. He said it is okay and that he doesn’t mind. And then he told me of his American girlfriend whom he was once in love with, when he first reached America- Amy, a fellow Researcher who was in a brief relationship with Visu when she was in New York. They lived together for 3 months and decided against marriage, somehow. Amy once dropped home when she was in New York. Nice lady, she was.

Ask Amma to send me Sambar Podi for this whole year. My friend Sudha is coming to Madras next week. Ask Seenu to catch the Rockfort Express and give it to her. I will collect it from her here.

 

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

 

Dearest Appa,
3rd June’1974

 

We have arrived here safely. After two months in India, I find it hard to adjust back to normal life here. Gautam and Ranjana demand vadai,paayasam and vaazhai ilai here. Visu’s relieved to be back in America. I left a set of my books there. If it’s not in Trichy it must be in Visu’s parents’ place. If you find them, safeguard them until my next trip. They mean a lot to me since they were gifts from Sakthi. By the way, Appa, I found out Sakthi’s present address in Madras from Rama and Saarada maami. I wrote to him. I am extremely proud to know that Dr.Sakthivel is a cardiologist much in demand there in Madras. He was thrilled to hear from me after so long. You know what he has named his daughters? Kalyani and Raagamaalika. He called me. You know what, he’s still a practising vegetarian, Appa. He didn’t revert back just because he lost me… He asked me if I still sang and whether Gautam and Ranjana could sing. I could see a proud father in him, when he claimed his daughters could sing upto Rara Venu Gopala. That’s when I remembered that I was once a good singer. I wonder why I stopped singing, wonder why I never exposed the kids to Music and Dance. But then, I realize that I had buried all that deep inside me when I left Trichy; after bidding farewell to my best Rasika, actually. Sakthi. After the call, I tried singing ’Kurai Onrum Illai’. I could not rquite reach Charanam, because of the lack of practice and more importantly because of the tears that filmed my eyes and the constriction in my throat. I sang to Visu and the kids one of these days. Though Gautam was impressed, father and daughter could not just wait for me to finish! By the way, next time some friend comes to India, send me a Sruthi Box. I would like to start singing again.

 

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

 

Dearest Appa,

14th Aug 1978

 

Just back after our tour to California. Find our photos, picture postcards attached herewith. After you are done with showing all family members,relatives, friends and neighbours, pass them to Visu’s parents. It was a welcome break for the four of us. But I missed my paattu class students all along and was happy to resume the classes again last evening. Did I mention in my previous letter, before we left on the tour – I finally got my driving license here. I sent a few photos to Sakthi too. He has sent me quite a few records and cassettes. I loved it! I’m reminded of AIR, almost! I’m circulating them among my friends too. And of course, playing them for my students too. They are picking up beautifully. Funny news is, I, a Tamilian, is teaching Telugu and Sanskrit kritis to a cross section of Tamil, Malayalam, Kannada,Telugu, Marathi, Bengali students in an English speaking nation. The music sessions have resulted in a reborn Kalyani, Appa. Thanks to Sakthi, really. I would have never taken it up had it not been for his reminder. I am now thinking of what life would have been like if I had indeed married him. I would have of course lost you and Amma. But right now, with this life in America, Visu and these monthly letters to you, Rama, Raji and Seenu what have i gained? I don’t find an answer, Appa. Neither do I think I ever will. Again, as I have always reiterated, Visu is a good man, no complaints there. He is every bit the son in law you wanted. Researcher, American Post-Graduate Degree holder, a dutiful husband and father,earning a comfortable income. I know it is too much to ask for anything else. That is a fantasy I left midway in my life… Once upon a time in Trichy with someone else.

 

Your loving daughter,

Kalyani.

 

Dearest Appa,
14th Apr’1984

 

Met Dr.Sakthivel after 19 years… He had come to New York for business purposes and paid me a visit. Visu and the kids welcomed him home with great pleasure. And they liked him too. Infact, they did most of the talking initially. And of course, he got me a whole load of books, cassettes, Mysore Paak and lots more.

 

Your loving daughter,
Kalyani.

 

Dearest Appa,
20th Jan’ 1990

 

I just went through all these letters lying in my closet draw for years together. These are letters I started writing to you and then decided not to post. For obvious reasons. I could not mention Sakthi to you even though I was itching to. Not because I was afraid to invite your wrath. I just did not have the heart to hurt you, I know these letters would have hurt you. Because deep inside, I know you were disturbed- you knew Sakthi was a good man, you knew he was a man of substance, yet you didn’t want to go further. Society, I know. ..Family… I know… And all these letters would have only wounded you more. Today, 2 years after your death, and 6 months after Dr.Sakthivel’s untimely death in a road accident, I somehow felt like re-reading all these letters. To me, all these unstamped, unposted letters mean a life that could have been.

 

Kalyani Viswanathan

 

I felt very sorry for her after reading through this post  and whether its real history or story, we have to understand that life is a one time opportunity blessed by god and we have to respect others feelings whether the person might be of any relationship to us.

 

Evergreen Wishes,

S.R.Karthik

Help in Need!!!


A Brother’s Love…

 

Let’s show our love while we can, while people need us. That is something I learnt from an incident in Bhopal.

I saw a little boy daily near the Hanuman temple, always in a white tee and black pants, with a small Hanuman pendant around his neck.

He sat with a basket of fresh floral garlands. Be it at six in the morning or nine at night, he would try his very hardest to sell his wares.

I was a frequent temple goer and each time the boy would beg me earnestly to buy a garland. But somehow I never did. Even when I came out, he would follow me to my car, begging me to buy one at least.

Other boys sold flowers too, but none as persistently as he. I went back to the temple recently after a gap of some months.

The boy was there, seated exactly as before. I tried to avoid his gaze, assuming that he would follow me. But he did not budge.

I went inside the temple and came back. But the boy made no effort to sell his garlands.

I thought he was angry or just showing his own self-respect.

I suddenly missed the communication. I always had with this unknown boy and went to him.

He looked at me but did not speak.

This was strange. I gathered courage and asked: “Bhaiya, why are you not asking me to buy your garlands?”

He said, “Bhaiya, why should I ask? You are rich but you can’t spend five rupees on my garland.

Anyway now I am not so desperate. My sister was suffering from cancer and I had to work for her medicines.

My father had left us. My mother makes the garlands and I sell them. We used the money for my sister’s medicines.

She passed away two months ago. You can now take one for free.”

I bought them all. But I felt so small. I still repent that I did not respond then when he tried so hard.

Help in Need is Help Indeed! Let’s show our love while we can, while people need us!

 

Urs,

 S.R.Karthik

Dear Sister!!!


Dear Sister!!!

 

A rich lady had adopted a poor orphan girl, who was very devoted, obedient, laborious, and always happy and kind.

One day the lady said to her: “Rose, you are a good girl and therefore for Christmas I shall buy some new clothes for you. I have already spoken to the shop-keeper about it. Here is the money; go and buy the smart dress that you desire so much.”

The lady gave her some money, but Rose, considering the sum for a moment, said:

“My dear mother, I have enough clothes for the present, while my sister Lucia is still poorly dressed and if she saw me with a new dress she would certainly feel a little sad. Will you allow me to send her the money? She is very fond of me and when I was ill she used to come to my beside and be the most loving nurse.”

“My dear children,” said the good lady, “write to your sister and tell her to come here and stay with us, and I will give the same to both of you. Since you both have the same love for each other, I shall do my best to keep both of you happy.”

For there is no friend like a sister

In calm or stormy weather,

To cheer one on the tedious way,

To fetch one if one goes astray.

Those who are blessed with sisters will feel it…

 Urs,

 SRK

Mango Fruit!!!


The Last Wish!!!

 

Once when King Sri Krishna Deva Rayalu was ruling the Vijaya Nagar Empire, the royal mother fell sick and was bedridden.

The medical professionals of the court declared that there was no chance for her to survive this episode and that she grew too old to respond to any medication.

One morning, she summoned Rayalu to her presence.

“My Dear Son! I realize that I am close to death’s door. I also do not have any hopes that my health would become better. However, I have a last wish.”

She paused and asked, “Can you accomplish it for me before my soul is taken away?”

Rayalu was the King of Kings. His mother was on the deathbed, expressing her last wish.

How could he turn away from it? He gently said, “Mother! Please tell me I will definitely accomplish your last wish” he assured.

“I…” she added, “…wish to eat a mango fruit, can you get me one?” in a feeble tone the mother asked Rayalu.

It was early summer. Trees had just started bearing tender fruits.

There was no guarantee that royal mother would live until the tender ones ripened on the tree, Rayalu thought.

It was also an insult to his royalty, if he was unable to fulfil his mother’s last wish.

Immediately the King ordered his soldiers to scan through the fields of the kingdom and bring some ripe mangoes at any cost, immediately.

The soldiers plunged into action. They did their best and returned with a basket filled with ripe mangoes.

Eventually, just before the soldiers could place the basket before their King, king’s mother breathed her last.

Rayalu was taken aback, for being unable to fulfil the last wish more than for her demise.

He was shook deeply with the thought that his mother was dead even before her quench for mangoes was fulfilled.

He slowly started to sink day after the day with the thoughts that were ripping him.

Rayalu invited Royal Master Thathacharya, explained his struggle, and sought an advice that would take the suffering off from him.

Thathacharya thought for a while and told the King, “My king! Your mother was fond of giving alms to the poor and needy.

Her soul would rest in peace, if you can fulfil her last wish through donations. Order for preparing mangoes with gold and distribute them to Brahmins of the country.”

The news spread like wildfire in the kingdom that Rayalu was doling out golden mangoes to Brahmins in the memory of his mother.

Brahmins from all over the empire started flooding into the capital to accept the golden mango from the King. Day in and out, long queues were always seen only to add people to its tail.

With this, the gold reserves in the exchequer were melting down rapidly.

Rayalu not bothering about the consequences was incessantly involved in donating golden mangoes to the Brahmins.

He never heeded to the pleas and warnings of the Chief Minister Thimmarusu in this regard.

Thimmarusu was in confusion and did not know how to stop the King.

He approached Ramalinga and urged for a solution to this in the interest of the kingdom and its people.

Ramalinga assured Thimmarusu that he would check it at the earliest.

“Go home and have a sound night sleep, Chief Minister. Everything will be alright by tomorrow evening” Ramalinga sent off Thimmarusu.

Next morning, Ramalinga went near the long queues and watched what was happening.

He then selected a yard close to the queues and sat there, ordering the queue maintenance persons to send each of the Brahmins to him before sending him to Rayalu for the golden mango.

Everyone knew that Ramalinga was one of the close associates of the King.

They thought that Ramalinga was doing so on the orders of the King and started sending the Brahmins first to Ramalinga before sending them into the palace.

Ramalinga told every Brahmin that there was a slight amendment to the donation process.

“The King Rayalu wished to donate the golden mangoes to those who bore a blister from him” Ramalinga explained.

Brahmins desirous of the gold first had a burn on their backs and went for the King’s gold.

This went on until afternoon. In the later afternoon, one Brahmin pleaded Ramalinga to give him two burns and two golden mangoes.

Ramalinga immediately fulfilled the Brahmins wish.

Then the Brahmin approached Rayalu. As usual, Rayalu handed him one mango.

The Brahmin immediately requested the King, “My Lord! I had two burns please give me two golden mangoes.”

The King Rayalu did not understand what was happening. He enquired, “What burns?”

Then the Brahmin narrated the entire story about Ramalinga and burns to Rayalu.

The King shivering with anger called for Ramalinga and questioned him, “Ramalinga, what is happening. Why are you doing this brutality on these poor and innocent Brahmins?”

Ramalinga very politely and innocently, as if nothing was amiss, explained. “My Dear King! I am an unlucky person.

Recently my mother succumbed to a chronic disease. She wished all during her bed ridden period to cauterize her back so that she could become healthy and live longer.”

Wiping the tears dropping on his cheeks, Ramalinga continued, “Probably she would have lived. Nevertheless, I did not heed to her requests.

She died with it on her lips. I thought of presenting it to the Brahmins, as I failed to fulfill my mother’s last wish.

However, I being a poor man cannot invite such huge number of Brahmins. Anyway, all of these had come on your invitation and I am trying to fulfill my mother’s last wish in this manner.

With all due respects to the King, I beg for pardon for my deeds, if I am wrong.”

Rayalu analyzed that Ramalinga was attempting to teach him a lesson. He then recalled Thimmarusu’s pleas about the drastically dropping gold reserves in the exchequer.

Appreciating the presence of mind and loyalty, Rayalu immediately stopped the programme.

Urs,

SRK

What goes around comes around


“What goes around comes around!”

 

One day a man saw an old lady, stranded on the side of the road, but even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her.

Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn’t look safe; he looked poor and hungry.

He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was those chills which only fear can put in you.

He said, “I’m here to help you, ma’am. Why don’t you wait in the car where it’s warm? By the way, my name is Hari Krishna”

Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough.

Hari crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt.

As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from Lifestyle and was only just passing through. She couldn’t thank him enough for coming to her aid.

Hari just smiled as he closed her trunk. The lady asked how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her.

She already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Hari never thought twice about being paid. This was not a job to him.

This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty, who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way.

He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and Hari added, “And think of me.”

He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.

A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps.

The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn’t erase.

The lady noticed the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Hari.

After the lady finished her meal, she paid with a hundred dollar bill. The waitress quickly went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, but the old lady had slipped right out the door.

She was gone by the time the waitress came back. The waitress wondered where the lady could be. Then she noticed something written on the napkin.

There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote:

“You don’t owe me anything. I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I’m helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of love end with you.”

Under the napkin were four more $100 bills.

Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day.

That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written.

How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard….

She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, “Everything’s going to be all right. I love you, Hari Krishna.”

There is an old saying “What goes around comes around.” Today, I sent you this story and I’m asking you to pass it on… Let this light shine…

Urs,

SRK

Blessings!!!


Blessings!!!

A young man, a student in one of our universities, was one day taking a walk with a professor, who was commonly called the students’ friend, for his kindness to those who waited on his instructions.

As they went along, they saw lying in the path a pair of old shoes, which they supposed to belong to a poor man who was employed in a field close by, and who had nearly finished his day’s work.

The student turned to the professor, saying: “Let us play the man a trick: we will hide his shoes, and conceal ourselves behind those bushes, and wait to see his perplexity when he cannot find them.”

“My young friend,” answered the professor, “we should never amuse ourselves at the expense of the poor. But you are rich, and may give yourself a much greater pleasure by means of the poor man.

Put a coin into each shoe, and then we will hide ourselves and watch how the discovery affects him.”

The student did so, and they both placed themselves behind the bushes close by.

The poor man soon finished his work, and came across the field to the path where he had left his coat and shoes.

While putting on his coat he slipped his foot into one of his shoes; but feeling something hard, he stooped down to feel what it was, and found the coin.

Astonishment and wonder were seen upon his countenance. He gazed upon the coin, turned it round, and looked at it again and again.

He then looked around him on all sides, but no person was to be seen. He now put the money into his pocket, and proceeded to put on the other shoe; but his surprise was doubled on finding the other coin.

His feelings overcame him; he fell upon his knees, looked up to heaven and uttered aloud a fervent thanksgiving, in which he spoke of his wife, sick and helpless, and his children without bread, whom the timely bounty, from some unknown hand, would save from perishing.

The student stood there deeply affected, and his eyes filled with tears. “Now,” said the professor, “are you not much better pleased than if you had played your intended trick?”

The youth replied, “You have taught me a lesson which I will never forget. I feel now the truth of those words, which I never understood before: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’”

Cheers,

SRK

Don’t be Selfish!!!


Don’t Burn Yourself in the Flames of Selfishness!!!

A couple, whom we shall call John and Mary, had a nice home and two lovely children, a boy and a girl. John had a good job and had just been asked to go on a business trip to another city and would be gone for several days.

It was decided that Mary needed an outing and would go along too. They hired a reliable woman to care for the children and made the trip, returning home a little earlier than they had planned. As they drove into their home town feeling glad to be back, they noticed smoke, and they went off their usual route to see what it was.

They found a home in flames. Mary said, “Oh well it isn’t our fire, let’s go home.” But John drove closer and exclaimed, “That home belongs to Fred Jones who works at the plant. He wouldn’t be off work yet, maybe there is something we could do.”

 ”It has nothing to do with us.” Said protested Mary. “You have your good clothes on lets not get any closer.” But John drove up and stopped and they were both horror stricken to see the whole house in flames. A woman on the lawn was in hysterics screaming, “

The children! Get the children!” John grabbed her by the shoulder saying, “Get a hold of yourself and tell us where the children are!”

“In the basement,” sobbed the woman, “down the hall and to the left.”

In spite of Mary’s protests John grabbed the water hose and soaked his clothes, put his wet handkerchief on his head and bolted for the basement which was full of smoke and scorching hot. He found the door and grabbed two children, holding one under each arm like the football player he was.

As he left he could hear some more whimpering. He delivered the two badly frightened and nearly suffocated children into waiting arms and filled his lungs with fresh air and started back asking how many more children were down there.

They told him two more and Mary grabbed his arm and screamed,

“John! Don’t go back! It’s suicide! That house will cave in any second!”

But he shook her off and went back by feeling his way down the smoke filled hallway and into the room.

It seemed an eternity before he found both children and started back. They were all three coughing and he stooped low to get what available air he could.

As he stumbled up the endless steps the thought went through his mind that there was something strangely familiar about the little bodies clinging to him, and at last when they came out into the sunlight and fresh air, he found that he had just rescued his own children.

The baby-sitter had left them at this home while she did some shopping.

Urs,

SRK