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Prehistoric Memories

Discussion in 'Snippets of Life (Non-Fiction)' started by ojaantrik, Mar 30, 2014.

  1. jasmine25

    jasmine25 Gold IL'ite

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    Dear Oj sir,
    what a post??? Thoroughly enjoyed reading about your childhood days and raddy...even after so many years you still remember each and every incident..really adorable sir..Please don't worry on losing his friendship.. As Manju said recollect them and be happy sir..
     
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  2. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    Dear Sriniketan,

    Sorry about this enormous delay in my response. Like the Raddy you have attempted to visualize, I was literally time constrained.

    I really don't think I am either sad or hurt. Quite the contrary. I am happy that I have been able to write something that is simple, straight out of my heart and has caught the attention of so many of you.

    No, I am truly not sad about losing Raddy. I was just writing the story of life. No analytics here, no attempt to rely on flashy language skills. It's possible that I succeeded in making the people riding the car more visible than the car itself. If so, I am approaching success.

    All the best.

    oj-da
     
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  3. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    Dear Syamala,

    Thanks for your reaction.

    However, there is a point that I wish to make as clearly as possible. My stories don't have a message. Or a moral if you will. They are just glimpses of life. Things happen and sometimes you hear the music of the happening. I try to share the music with those who are willing to listen. The music of life, sung in as uncomplicated a manner as possible. Not a full fledged raga, but more in the spirit of a light thumri.

    I will never reach R.K. Narayan's class, but he is the hero that keeps me going.

    Finally, notice that I didn't lament over losing Raddy. It was my lost childhood that I was trying to relive.

    oj
     
  4. Cheeniya

    Cheeniya Super Moderator Staff Member IL Hall of Fame

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    My dear OJ
    I loved your Ian Fleming style of opening of this magnum opus. Remember how JB always introduced himself as Bond, James Bond? Radhakrishnan brought to us this way really makes us sit up and take notice but I think that the comparison between him and Bond should end here unless we have reason to believe that Bond too had this habit of breaking into tears when circumstances did not favour him in his childhood.

    Weeping in public at the age of 6 is very much unlike the Madras brats. More often than not, I have seen their young mothers shedding tears in public wringing their hands not knowing how to contain them! Did Julius Caesar (original Shakespeare) figure in a comic? It’s news to me! I used to be more of the Chandamama type reading avidly of our kings of yore and their exploits. Nothing was ever a taboo in my school as long as our preferred activity did not interfere with the well earned siesta of my teachers. We have learned from our experience that hell hath no fury like a teacher woken up! And if that day happened to be the day of his weekly shave, hell would be twice hellish!

    The more I read about the clash of interest between Raddy and Mr.Dutt, the more I feel drawn to him. Why no one in the world realizes that rising to glory is not going to be determined by a sound knowledge of Milton or for that matter the other guy, you know who? In fact I would have forgotten Milton long back but for the plethora of Milton crockery adorning my dining table! Raddy goes up in my estimation just by his reading preferences. The persecution of Raddy for very flimsy reasons appears crueler than the persecution of Jews in the Nazi regime. I am appalled that two of the personalities for whom I have limitless admiration were guilty of this crime. Mr.Viswanathan is not the man who would offer an explanation unless it was absolutely needed. That puts Raddy more in the category of more to be pitied than censured.

    The story of your friendship with Raddy is something I can relate to very easily. If it was electric bell in your case, it used to be a handmade radio working with a coil of copper wire, earphones and crystals in our case. Science is known to have brought even the most disparate characters into the Damon and Pythias kind of friendship! Now the mention of Komala Vilas takes me back to my early Banking days when I stayed in that preferred place for the touring Madrasis. There was a package that included the price of all the meals in the room rent for stays of longer duration. I stayed there for over a year!

    I really do not know what makes you think that middle-aged men could continue to sound like an innocent little boy. It is the other way round these days. Innocent little boys sound less innocent and more aged! And it should not have thrown you off balance at all! They all say ‘Boys will be boys’ but never mention for how long! But what lovely childhood memories he has left for you with his tear stained eyes! I’ll cherish these reminiscences of Raddy more than some of you may do. And that goes as the best proof of your expressive ability!
    Sri
     
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  5. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    Dear manjureddy,

    It is no easy task to respond to a comment flowing out of your keyboard. I would have preferred it to be a pen of course. But such things have disappeared.

    Anyway, let me give it a try. A jugalbandi of sorts may be.

    I am not exactly sure why I wrote this up, except of course that Raddy appeared from nowhere and sat in that stool in a corner of my little study and began to complain that I had forgotten him. He was quite invisible to the rest of the world. The cheek of the fellow. I have forgotten him he claimed, when, as I have clarified to anyone who cares, that things were exactly the other way round.

    "Why don't you sing anymore", he accused me.

    "Sing!" I faltered quite miserably. "Sing what?"

    "Come on stupid," said Raddy, "the song of life of course."

    I was taken totally aback and said, "But Raddy dear, life is one long song. I won't have enough time to finish the song even if I started to sing. Not even a minuscule part of it."

    Raddy was unconvinced. He said, "Come on now. Haven't you heard of bonsai?"

    "No Raddy no," I protested loudly. Which was not a wise idea actually, for my wife came rushing into my study imagining I had suffered a heart attack. And she discovered that I was just sitting in my swivel chair staring at the ceiling and shadow boxing. Actually, she gave up on me as far as sanity is concerned many years ago. So, when she found out that I was not lying on the floor and screaming in physical pain, she realized that I was just being my natural self. Throwing her hands up in the air she left me to my mad designs, with a harsh warning of course that I shouldn't damage her furniture.

    There were hardly any furniture to destroy, except for that stool Raddy occupied and I knew that unless Raddy left, it would be hard for me to destroy the stool. On the other hand, it was imperative for me to destroy the stool if Raddy refused to vacate it. Horns of a dilemma, isn't this what they call it?

    I asked Raddy, "Will you leave me in peace if I did sing a song?"

    "Oh yes, I will," said he. "My time is costly friend. Can't throw it away on a miserable you of all people! Finish quickly, I have to leave. Other important appointments ..."

    "How on earth can I sing on this hot dry afternoon Raddy dear?" said I. "I want the dark monsoon clouds to arrive and cover the sky and then I need the rains like never before. Torrential rain and a grand Miyan Ki Malhar. But no rain dear, on this scorching day."

    "How stupid you are," retorted Raddy. "That's the way you always were. Never knew when to seize an opportunity. Don't you have a friend called manjureddy whose skills you admire from the bottom of your heart."

    "Hey, wait a bit," I objected. "What's manjureddy got to do with all this? Besides, why on earth are you spying on me and making a list of my friends. As well as enemies perhaps! I am worried now."

    "Ha, ha, ha," Raddy retorted. "Ask yourself how I found out. In any case, you seem to have forgotten that manjureddy enjoys the Raga Todi. Not much rain in it my friend."

    This annoyed me to no end. "I will be the last person to sing a Todi, just because manjureddy likes Todi. Or may be because she doesn't like Todi. She said nothing matters on earth."

    "Oh no, oh no you fool," Raddy said with relish. "She likes a Todi alright, but she wants you to believe that it doesn't matter what she likes or doesn't like! That's all there is to it."

    I thought for a long moment before I responded. "I don't believe that she really likes Todi all that much. Most probably it's Malkauns, or may be Darbari Kanada. She listens to these things at the Savai Gandharva Music Festival."

    Raddy sat thinking in his turn too. After much rumination he said somewhat grudgingly, "May be you are right. Didn't we hear a Malkauns playing in the background as manjureddy ate her after dinner chocolate?"

    I nodded vigorously. "Right, right, it was definitely a night raga, played to a chocolate crunching tala."

    "See, see," Raddy was full of enthusiasm. "Even you heard, deaf as doornail though you are."

    I considered his observations as he seemed to wait in patience. Then I looked out of the window and was thrilled to see dark billowing clouds stretching out to the horizon. It will rain, it has to rain. A Malhar and that alone will suit the occasion. I mean manjureddy's chitchat with those old friends "you and Raddy".

    I began humming a tune, quite tunelessly I am afraid. A rain song through which I vaguely perceived two young boys caught in a thunderstorm on their way back home. Long, long ago, around the time God created the earth.

    If I cried a little, manjureddy, it was not because I was lamenting about Raddy. I was just standing in the rain and getting soaked to the skin. I was scared of that long streak of lightning that tore up the sky. I was just a little boy.

    Raddy sat for a while more and then disappeared as suddenly as he had arrived. But he had scrawled a message for me I saw. The message was simple, as simple as my rain song. But it could sound complicated to those who didn't sing rain songs.

    Here was the message:

    The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.


    Such as that empty stool where Raddy sat

    All the best.

    ojaantrik
     
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  6. Kamla

    Kamla IL Hall of Fame

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    Dear Oj-da!

    Nice to see you back at snippets!

    I see this is once again about memories and pre historic this time! Long long before Chennai Chronicles ever happened....And in the original quaint Ojaantrik form!

    Reading the narration, I just started singing the song...
    "bachapan ke din bhi kyaa din the,
    udate phirate titali ban ke....bachapan"
    "kabhi roye to aap hi hans diye ham
    chhoti chhoti khushi, chhote chhote wo gham
    haay re haay, haay, haay, haay, re haay"


    I do hope you understand Hindi?! As Geeta Dutt's haunting voice becomes a ear worm, I must say I kept smiling as Ramanathan Radhakrishnan, Utpal Dutt, N Vishwanathan did their motions before my eyes. They were all here, around me. Only I was not sitting at my desk, but at a school desk in the faaar away Calcutta, well, it still was Calcutta those days, right? Though I am a South Indian, I felt more akin to the chirpy and cheruby little Bengali Dipankar than the teary and sober looking RR! But of one thing I am sure, I had a bundle of comic strips tucked away under my arm, never mind Dutt or no Dutt......

    Yes, I am in a trance and you put me into it! You also worked your magic on Knbg who ran to the FP forum and nominated this impeccable piece!

    L, Kamla

    PS: A loose translation of the song above:
    Those childhood days were special, we flew and went around like butterflies.
    If we cried, we also laughed. Our happiness and sorrows were small ..haay re haay...
     
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  7. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    Dear Vishwa,

    Thanks for your observation about the Bengali-Madrasi link. I tend to believe that we are the best. Well, may be "better", not "best". Not that others are not good. We are probably better.

    It's wonderful to know that you managed to contact your doctor friend and enjoyed the past with him. Unfortunately for me, I have few contacts left, but as you correctly note, the vacuum is filled up by memories. Hundreds of memories to be brought alive with my bizarre garnishing.

    If you search for absolute truth in them, or perhaps a message, you will be disappointed. I simply hum a tune when the right sort of mood sets in. If this takes on the appearance of reality, so be it. I hardly know how to distinguish reality anymore. I just sing and hope for support from nature. Sometimes it rains, at others it snows. My characters are somewhat in the nature of snowmen. They invariably melt or get washed away by the rain.

    Best wishes.

    ojaantrik
     
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  8. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    Thank you Mindi. I know what you mean. The fun thing for me though is that I am not just reminiscing. As I told Vishwa just now, I am trying desperately to sing. Not that I am an expert singer, but like many of us I am fond of classical Indian music. And as you know for sure, our music is full of improvisations.

    My memories are the ragas I improvise on and serve out for my friends to enjoy.

    The most important thing you should remind yourself when you read me is: Don't believe this guy. He is a madcap in love with life as it could have been.

    So, I am a "could be" chap. I am a "may be" fellow. But I rarely belong to the "am" category!!

    You are welcome to join me in my singing in praise of nothingness. If you read what I told manjureddy at the very end of my response, you will know. The message that Raddy left for me before he left a few days ago.

    Love.

    oj-da
     
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  9. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    Thank you Bhargavi. Kamla says you went beyond enjoying this post. I have to visit that space.

    Best wishes.

    oj-da
     
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  10. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    How correct you are navs23. If there is anything that is eternally constant about nature, it is the inevitability of change. All of us change, continuously, all the time. This being the case, should we look forward to an ending at all? Happy or unhappy? In fact, even before you have said it, the end is way behind you. Also, let us agree that a performer, if he enjoys his performance, is himself or herself never unhappy. It's the illusion of unhappiness alone that he/she creates. But creativity can never be an unhappy activity. It's full of smiles.

    Love.

    ojaantrik
     
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