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

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Who is Smarter?


Gold Vs Silver

 

There once lived a great mathematician in a village outside Ujjain.

 

He was often called by the local king to advice on matters related to the economy.

 

His reputation had spread as far as Taxila in the North and Kanchi in the South.

 

So it hurt him very much when the village headman told him, “You may be a great mathematician who advises the king on economic matters but your son does not know the value of gold or silver.”

 

The mathematician called his son and asked, “What is more valuable – gold or silver?” “Gold,” said the son.

 

“That is correct. Why is it then that the village headman makes fun of you, claims you do not know the value of gold or silver? He teases me every day. He mocks me before other village elders as a father who neglects his son. This hurts me. I feel everyone in the village is laughing behind my back because you do not know what is more valuable, gold or silver. Explain this to me, son.”

 

So the son of the mathematician told his father the reason why the village headman carried this impression.

 

“Every day on my way to school, the village headman calls me to his house.

 

There, in front of all village elders, he holds out a silver coin in one hand and a gold coin in other.

 

He asks me to pick up the more valuable coin.

 

I pick the silver coin. He laughs, the elders jeer, everyone makes fun of me.

 

And then I go to school. This happens every day.

 

That is why they tell you I do not know the value of gold or silver.”

 

The father was confused.

 

His son knew the value of gold and silver, and yet when asked to choose between a gold coin and silver coin always picked the silver coin.

 

“Why don’t you pick up the gold coin?” he asked. In response, the son took the father to his room and showed him a box.

 

In the box were at least a hundred silver coins.

 

Turning to his father, the mathematician’ s son said, “The day I pick up the gold coin the game will stop. They will stop having fun and I will stop making money.”

 

The bottom line is…

 

Sometimes in life, we have to play the fool because our seniors and our peers, and sometimes even our juniors like it.

 

That does not mean we lose in the game of life.

 

It just means allowing others to win in one arena of the game, while we win in the other arena of the game.

 

We have to choose which arena matters to us and which arenas do not.

 

Urs,

 

S.R.Karthik

Bengal Tiger!!!


King of Wild Beasts!!!

This is one of the famous stories believed in Bengal about a fakir, Gazi Saheb. His story is similar to our Sai Baba from Shridi.

To the boatmen of the river Hooghly, and the woodcutters and honey gatherers of the Sunderbans, “Gazi Saheb” is a name that is still invoked in times of storm or stress.

Stories of the magical powers of this wonder-worker have been preserved in song and legend.

South of Calcutta, where the town of Baruipur stands, there was once dense, impenetrable jungle, laced with crocodile-infested creeks.

Into this wasteland came a fakir, Mobrah Gazi by name, to take up his abode at a place called Basre. He so overawed the wild beasts that they became his slaves; and the “Gazi Saheb”, as he came to be known, was often seen riding about on a tiger.

It is said that the Zamindar of the pargana in which Basra was situated was placed under arrest because he was unable to pay the annual revenue to the Emperor at Delhi.

The Zamindar’s mother, fearing for her son’s life sought the assistance of the great Gazi. The fakir promised him aid.

After sending the woman who served him as a devotee home, he dismounted from his Bengal tiger and sat down in deep meditation.

So great were his powers that his thoughts were telegraphed over the many hundreds miles separating his jungle from Delhi, and he gave the Emperor a dream in which he, Gazi Saheb, appeared before the Emperor, surrounded by wild beasts, and announced that he was the owner of the Basre jungles, and that the revenue would be paid from his treasures buried in the forest.

He ordered the Emperor to have the Zamindar of Basre released, threatening him with every misfortune if he disobeyed.

The Emperor woke late next morning and, overtaken by the business of his court, forgot the dream.

The following morning, when he ascended his throne, instead of seeing the usual courtiers and attendants, he found himself like a mother, fearing for her son’s life and sought the assistance of the great Gazi. The fakir promised his aid.

The Zamindar’s house, the Emperor came to know, was surrounded by wild beasts. He immediately remembered his dream, and in great haste ordered the release of the Zamindar.

The animals vanished, and a few weeks later the revenue arrived, paid out of the Gazi’s treasure.

In gratitude for the Gazi’s help, the Zamindar built a mosque in the jungles of Basre, as an abode for the saint; but the Gazi Saheb- who had no use for material possessions and used his mysterious treasure only to assist others, said that he preferred the shelter of the forests in sunshine and rain, and desired neither mosque nor house.

The Zamindar then ordered that every village in his Zamindari should erect an altar dedicated to Gazi Saheb, “King of the Sunderbans and of the Wild Beasts”, and warned his tenants that if they failed to make an offering before entering the jungle they would almost certainly be devoured by tigers or crocodiles.

And so even today, between Calcutta and the Bay of Bengal, the Gazi Saheb is recognized as a saint in many of the villages of the Sunderbans, and his name is held in reverence by both Hindus and Muslims.

There is no record of the Gazi Saheb ever having taken a wife, yet there are a number of fakirs who claim themselves as his descendents, gaining a livelihood from the offerings of boatmen and woodcutters.

That day they do not have the powers of the original Gazi has been apparent more than once, for it is usually the fakirs, and not the village folk, who are carried off by tigers or crocodiles.

Many people have tried to discover the whereabouts of the tomb of Gazi Saheb. Some say it lies near Baruipur, where the saint first took up his abode; others say it is to be found in the jungles of Sagar Island, “by the creek that runs to the sea.”

And there are some who feel certain that there is no tomb that the Gazi Saheb left this earth in no ordinary way, but was taken to Paradise riding on a Royal Bengal Tiger.

Urs,

SRK

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

Naming Game!!!


 Hurrah!!! 100th Story!!!

 

I am very glad to inform you all that we have reached 100th Story in our blog…

 

I am sure that you all would enjoy the stories…

 

Wish we could do more…

 

 

The Naming Game!!!

 

The ambassador of Nippon presented a beautiful cat to the Emperor of China.

 

The emperor became fond of the animal and took it with him wherever he went.

 

People kept asking for the cat’s name and were surprised when told that it had none.

 

Eventually the emperor decided that the cat should have a name.

 

He called his ministers, the seven wisest men in the empire, and commanded them to find a suitable name for his pet within seven days.

 

At the end of this period they were summoned to the palace again, and asked for their suggestions.

 

The youngest of the group thought he had found the perfect name.

 

“TIGER!” he announced proudly.

 

“Good name,” said the emperor, after a moment’s reflection.

 

“The tiger is a noble and powerful beast.”

 

“Noble, perhaps,” said the second minister, “but it is not as powerful as the dragon.

 

Can a tiger soar into the sky? No, but a dragon can! I think DRAGON would be a more suitable name for the cat.”

 

“Clouds can go higher than dragons,” observed a third minister.

 

“A cloud is more powerful than a dragon. Let’s call it CLOUD.”

 

“Let’s not be hasty,” advised the fourth wise man.

 

“Clouds may fly high but they are pushed around by winds. Winds are more powerful than clouds. WIND would be the most appropriate name for a great emperor’s pet.”

 

“WIND?” said the emperor, doubtfully. “Isn’t there anything better?”

 

“There certainly is!” rasped the fifth wise man. “BRICK WALL!”

 

“BRICK WALL?”

 

“A brick wall can stop a wind, however powerful,” explained the minister.

 

“A brick wall is more powerful than the wind!”

 

“Oh, I see, “said the emperor. “ Well, BRICK WALL is not a bad name. But isn’t it somewhat long?”

 

“I have a shorter name,” said the sixth minister. “RAT.”

 

“RAT!”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty, RAT! A rat can eat through a brick wall, which makes it more powerful than the wall, more powerful than the wind, more powerful than…”

 

“I get your point,” interrupted the emperor, “but can you call a cat, RAT?”

 

“Indeed you can’t!” piped up the seventh wise man.

 

“A cat is a cat is a cat. And if a rat is more powerful than the others the cat is even more so because it is mightier than the rat.”

 

So the royal pet remained nameless in a way because from then on it was simply called CAT. The Naming Game came to the end.

 

In Life, It’s always better to accept the things as it is….

 

Urs,

 

SRK

Master Plan!!!


Master of Games!!!

An old man who lived in a small side street in the city of Mumbai had to put up with the nuisance of having boys play cricket outside his house, at night.

One evening when the boys were particularly noisy, he went out to talk to them.

He explained that he was a pensioner who was happiest when he could see or hear boys playing his favorite game, cricket. He said he would give them 25 rupees each week to play in the street at night.

The boys were thrilled.

They were being paid to do something they enjoyed.

At the end of the first week they knocked at the old man’s house and asked to be paid.

He did so.

The second week when they asked for payment he said he had run out of money and sent them away with only 15 rupees.

The third week the man said he had not yet received his pension and gave them only 10 rupees.

The boys were very disappointed but there was not much they could do about it.

The fourth week the man said he could not afford to pay them 25 rupees as he had promised, but would give those 5 rupees each week without fail.

This was too much for the boys.

“You expect us to play seven days a week for a measly 5 rupees!” they yelled.

“Go to blazes.”

They stormed away and never played on the street again.

Urs,

SRK

Final Judgement!!!


Ramayana Reloaded!!!

 

Vikrama Simhapuri (presently Nellore town) was part of Vijaya Nagar Empire under the rule of Sri Krishna Deva Rayalu.

This place was famous for wicked and cunning women. These women with their uncommon intelligence added to their beauty and appeal used to defeat scholars and experts to transform as their domestic slaves and servants.

A prostitute Kanchana Mala among them was too notorious in this regard.

In the name of satisfying Ramayana recital, she framed twisty and wicked rules, which made all the competitors lose in their ‘battle’ against the woman.

The lady’s “reputation” along with her condition filled Ramayana recital issue spread all over the region and no one was dared to step into her house to compete with her.

In case any one ventured, lured by the stunning beauty of Kanchana Mala they too were definite to lose and become either a slave or a servant to her.

One day, Ramalinga visited Vikrama Simhapuri on his personal accomplishments.

Completing his job, he sat with some scholars, reputed persons of the locality, and enquired about the happenings and specialities of the town.

The gathering in a synchronised tone explained Ramalinga about Kanchana Mala and her urge for satisfactory recital of Ramayana epic.

One of the associates there said that, “it was her celestial beauty and the quantity of reward that was driving scholars to her, who are finally seen serving her losing the competition.”

One of the senior and aged poet of the region told Tenali Ramalinga cursing her, “she is not at all a woman, and she is wicked of the wicked. It is you, the right person, to defeat and smash her proudness.”

He continued, “You should teach her a right lesson and release all the scholars suffering in her service.”

Ramalinga thought, ‘Oh! Kanchana Mala is that highly impious.’ He said to the persons around him, “That being the case, I should definitely compete with her…by the way…what is the test she is winning on?” he questioned.

One of them explained that she demands the competitor to recite Ramayana and satisfy her.

Every time she says the recital was not satisfactory and orders the competitor to become her slave.” “Poor fellows, what they can do?

The condition of the test was to take out a word ‘satisfied’ from her after the performance.”

“Enough! It is alright!” Ramalinga told all of them, “She just needs to be satisfied with a Ramayana concert, I will do it.

One of you keep her informed about my willingness to satisfy her” Ramalinga said and headed towards his accommodation.

Not one, but all of them got up to inform Kanchana Mala about Ramalinga’s compliance to recite Ramayana at her residence thinking, ‘Yes! Now the time has come for breaking her.’

Ramalinga, in the evening attired in a disguise went to Kanchana Mala’s residence. “Welcome! Hearty Welcome! O learned man, Welcome” Kanchana Mala invited him.

He told Mala, “I have come to recite Ramayana as if it is happening in front of your eyes.”

“That was good. Then, are you aware of the reward and punishments?” Mala questioned.

“I am aware of those Kanchana Mala! I have a request…” paused Ramalinga.

 “Please tell me Sir” Mala immediately responded, “Before I complete the total recital you should not say anything.

You should do what ever I say as part of the presentation.

After I complete the narration you can reward me if you are ‘satisfied’ or punish otherwise” Ramalinga sarcastically stated.

She agreed to it and the story began.

Ramalinga started with the birth of Rama, Lakshmana, Bharatha, and Sathrughna.

It continued with Rama Lakshmana accompanying with Sage Vishwamithra to protect the celestial sacrifice, killing Thataka, releasing Ahalya from curse, Rama’s marriage with Seetha breaking Lord Shiva’s bow, and Rama’s migration to forests along with Seetha and Lakshmana on stepmother Kaika’s wish.

Ramalinga was narrating the episodes with an excellent expression and mannerism in a right modulation.

Nowhere, Kanchana Mala looked to be satisfied as she was commenting ‘You are not satisfying me.’

He advanced with the story narration about Ravanasura kidnapping Seetha, Rama killing Vali, deploying Hanuman to Lanka with the assistance of Sugreeva.

Again Mala screamed, “I am not satisfied with your performance.”

Controlling himself from exploding with anger, Ramalinga convinced her “Kanchana Mala! You are telling me that you are not satisfied with my performance.

However, this would be the best of performance on earth. OK. Let us leave that.

Now get ready, you will witness Ramayana happening in front of you.”

“Hehehehe…yeah please continue, I am in fact waiting for that,” she said.

Ramalinga jumped on to her selectively decorated cot and said, “This is how Hanuman jumped on to the Peak of Mahendra Mountain.”

 Standing erect on the bed he took another flight and landed on another cot, “Like this Hanuma jumped on to another mountain’s peak.”

From there he jumped close to Kanchana Mala and started throwing powerful fists on her back, “this was how Hanuman hit Lankini, who blocked his way from entering Lanka.”

Mala started shouting to the top of her voice, “Oh God! Mother! This man is killing me.”

Ramalinga in a commanding tone, “I told you not to hinder me in the middle. Now shut your mouth, Listen completely…” jumping like an ape, Ramalinga took out a lighted wisp hanging from the wall.

 “Hanuman returning from the Ashoka garden after visiting Seetha started torching Lanka and its men like this…” he gave fire to Mala’s clothes and ignited almost all the clothes and inflammables in the house.

While Mala was attempting to extinguish fire on her clothes, Ramalinga repeated beating her all over stating that was how Hanuman thumped the demons in Lanka.

Mala other than shouting loudly and protecting her from the fire could not do anything.

Few seconds later, after lighting all the household material, Ramalinga coolly went to the backyard stood near the well, “this is how Hanuman put out the fire set to his tail by the demons” and started taking bath drawing water from the well.

Looking at the house in fire, Kanchana Mala went astray and ran out of the house like a mad woman.

Ramalinga’s sarcastic comments irked her further more, “Who else can narrate Ramayana so lively Kanchana Mala, did you enjoy that?”

Cursing, yelling, screaming Kanchana Mala said, “fraud, cheat, he said he will recite Ramayana for me and set the house on fire.”

With disturbed clothes and hair, she ran to he local Court of Law and approached the judge.

She sought justice from the judge explaining the whole episode.

 Meanwhile, Ramalinga reached there without any tension appearing on his face.

The Judge questioned Ramalinga, “What is your answer to her allegations?”

Ramalinga folded hands at the Judge and appealed, “Your Majesty! I do not bear any fault with me. It was she, who wished to witness a lively Ramayana recital to her ‘satisfaction’.”

Describing all the past and present deeds of Kanchana Mala, Ramalinga said, “Mr Justice! I believe I am not at fault. In case the honourable court finds any, I am ready to take the punishment.”

The Judge understood that it was the wicked and proud nature of Kanchana Mala, which brought her to this turn of life.

He scolded her for cheating and humiliating scholars and learned persons in the name of Ramayana recital and rewards.

The judgement made it clear that Ramalinga did not have any fault to punish and freed him.

In addition to this, the verdict released all the learned men who were serving her as servants and slaves.

Ramalinga received all the appreciations from the people of the town.

Urs,

 SRK