One Earth: Energy Conserving ACs

One Earth: Energy Conserving ACs: "Two Sundays back, an article I had written Star cooling, trim bills , appeared in The Hindu Retail Plus. Someone called me and pointed out ..."

Wholesome Venture

I met her for the book 'Pathbreakers'. She had wanted to make it big in the IT world, but circumstances made her take a break, and then husband encouraged her to become an entrepreneur. She runs Jute Emporium, a shop that deals mostly with jute related products, and has other eco-friendly products too.

An article also appeared in The Hindu Retail Plus - Say Jute. I was amazed when my editor told me about the response to the article - several calls with people wanting to know more about it. There is awareness, we only need to know where to source alternate products from.

I liked the way she said - most people have to make extra efforts in CSR. I am glad my venture itself is socially responsible.

There are many like her, and many who would like to use products from people like her. I am glad I am at least getting to meet such people and write about them

Anubavangal: Naduvaantharam - Middle Man

Anubavangal: Naduvaantharam - Middle Man: "உலகத்தில் எவ்வளவோ பேர் எவ்வளவோ உருப்படியான வேலைகளை செய்து வருகிறார்கள். சிலர், மற்றவர்கள் காட்டும் வழியை பின் பற்றுகிறார்கள். சிலருக்கு எந..."

Meeravin Mudal Prayatnam: An Attempt - Oru Muyarchi

Meeravin Mudal Prayatnam: An Attempt - Oru Muyarchi: "தமிழில் எழுதிப்பாரேன் என்று என்னை ஒருவர் கேட்டார். இன்னொருவர் நான் தமிழில் எழுதப்போகிரெநா என்று கேட்டார். ஏன் எழுதிபார்க்கக்கூடாது என்று த..."

Great Expectations

He: To wake up to a gentle breeze; a Carnatic music CD playing melodiously in the background; wife up and about; towel wrapped around her hair, cooking busily while chanting a sloka; a sweet smile on seeing him, a nod to his good morning, and a steaming cup of coffee or tea ready in hand; the aroma of something delicious wafting from the kitchen.

She: To sleep undisturbed; to wake up lazily; to go about making breakfast leisurely - better still, to have him make it; a nice Hindi film song on lips; children wake up on their own, smiling; he wakes up even later and eats whatever is given - unless he makes what he wants; and does not complain that all the aroma he gets is from the neighbour's kitchen.

The great Indian dream. Sigh!

Out of the Box

A narrow road with small tenements. The access from the main road only through a narrow lane. Nothing beyond these houses that one could make out. A long passage, up the stairs and two small rooms - one drawing with kitchen and another presumably the bedroom. A terrace where the workshop is.

The woman, not more than five feet tall. Maybe a graduate, may not even be that. Daughter of a lift man, a union leader. Surely would know only a smattering of English, but extremely clear communication in Tamil, and sharp clear thoughts.

Currently running a creative business with her husband, she is already thinking beyond the coming 10 years, when the demand may reduce. She is already thinking what the next enterprise should be, and is conducting a research on the demand.

"My aim is to create jobs for others. I am teaching my son that when he grows up, he must earn well and help other poor children get good education."

Even as I scribbled her words down on my notepad, I don't mind confessing - she made me feel envious. In social and economic terms, to the external eye, she has less. But inside, she has more, much more.

Read about Jaya Ramakrishnan: At 72, she works untiringly giving women an opportunity

Touchwood

I had written this for a book but it didn't get published. I feel proud to share this with my friends:

***********

I was reading the newspaper sometime back (a rarity for me), and I saw the statistics that in Chennai, only around 25 percent of the old people are economically independent.

And I was struck by the fact that in my family, 100 percent of the old people – my parents and in-laws – belong to that category though they may not have been part of the survey.

My mother is the youngest of those four people at 69 years. She started teaching music sometime after she was 40, after her three children had grown up, and is not ready to retire yet. Till she was about 64 years young, she insisted on using the public buses. A very bad knee forced her to consider autos – but that was the only concession she gave herself. Today, come rain, come sun, she is busy from 10 in the afternoon to 8 in the night, teaching music. Her students include housewives who come in the mornings, office goers - she teaches in the Income Tax office to working women during lunch hour, and school students from after 3 – both at her own house and in other people’s homes up to a radius of 5 to 6 kilometers. To meet her, you need an appointment.

My father, a seventy-three-year-old retired government employee, waited for retirement to enjoy life after having slogged at the customs and central excise for all his employable life. His goal was to catch up on the music programs that happen in the city, and evenings find him in one auditorium or the other. But to me, he has grown into a hero of a different sort. During his youth and my growing up years, I don’t remember him “fathering” me much except as the breadwinner. But since I started my own family, despite a bypass and an angioplasty, I only need to call him and he comes running to take care of my young children as I rush off to pursue my career or my passion – dance. My husband complains that I am stressing my father out. But my father simply says, “I am able to do it. So you don’t worry about it.”

Now I need him less, and he has found some translation and proofing jobs that keep him busy. Pension keeps him independent of his children. Recently, he released a CD of his songs - TV Debut - and this has spurred him to write some more.

My mother-in-law, seventy three, is also a music and veena teacher, who, despite having a back problem, cannot dream of giving up her work. Though she teaches mostly from home, her commitment is first to the classes and then to everything else.

But I leave my father-in-law for last not only because he is eighty-one-years-old, but also because only this January, we forced him to retire. He abounds in restless energy and uses his bike to commute short to medium distances. Even after he officially retired, he has been working steadily. He was last Vice-Principal at a spoken English training school. Even after he quit there, he continues to take classes on Saturdays at the institute.

Seeing their positive attitude to life and work, it is difficult to tell them to rest and relax - they have adapted their lifestyles to cope with their physical limitations while still using their mental faculties and talents.

I think all that the current generation and the next one can hope for is to keep this spirit going.

TV Debut

This morning, Star Vijay telecast snippets from a program held in the US, in San Diego.

It was a moment of double pleasure for us.

The troupe that sang had my 11 year old niece Namu singing with her teacher Revathi Subramanian and other students. It was part of invocation songs sung by the group.

The second moment of joy was when the students sang the song "Vasantha Nagare". The lyrics have been penned and the music composed by my dad, Sri G. Sampath. My mom recorded it at my home and I mailed it to my brother in the US, who passed it on to the teacher to train her students. The song is dedicated to Besant Nagar Pillayar temple and is set in Ragam Vasantha.

What can children gift their parents? Only joy. I think, for my father, this must have been the greatest day after the day he released his CD with nine of his compositions. He has penned 25 songs, and his only desire was to see them being sung. Finally, two years back, he made a CD - Hari Samarpanam - with Chitravina Ravikiran helping with the music and the singers.

Two of his songs on Shiva - 'Kumbheshwaraya' and 'Kapaleeshwarena' have been choreographed as Padams by a dance teacher in Neyveli. I have myself performed to the second song.

What makes it special is that all his music knowledge is from listening and no formal training. An example of this love is my name - Meera, named after MS's rendering of this role in a movie.

His love for Sanskrit is another abiding passion that he has intertwined with his interest in music in these 25 songs.
Just now, as I was looking for a link to the review of the CD in the Hindu, I stumbled on these links: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yoga_Narasimha_Temple and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parthasarathy_Temple

The Hindu review at: http://www.hindu.com/fr/2010/10/22/stories/2010102251110200.htm

Also find three of the songs from the CD at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1SzeoA1_yUY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3wk-bDyyDY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hweh3cT-6k4

Duty is Duty

I admire my dance teacher for many things - her enthusiasm for life, the excitement she is still capable of feeling when she buys a dress, a piece of jewellery, discovers an eatery or watches a good movie. Of course, she dances with the energy of a teenager and works out to keep in shape.

But this morning, when I was in class, something else struck me as admirable. She has a 90 year old mother who is bed ridden. My dance teacher is single and nearing 70 herself. She rushes around her various responsibilities and travels for programs.

At no point has she thought of leaving her mother in an old age home though that will be one less responsibility for her already rushed life. She has a full time attendant, and anybody who has dealt with them will know what a headache that can be. She travels for programs, and is worried about leaving her mother alone with the attender. She did try arranging a home once for a short while when she was going abroad. But decided against it in the last minute and cut her trip short. This time too she has to leave in a few days. But she says she doesn't have the heart to go.

I think that, beyond everything else she does, makes her an excellent human being.

Don't Judge in Haste

A blogpost by a friend of mine on decency reminded me of this incident.

This was the year I shifted to Chennai (Madras back then) from Kolkata (Calcutta) - 1990, was all of 17 or 18 max. I was staying at my aunt's place in West Chennai and my dance class was at the other end of the city, near the beach on the easter side. A good one hour by bus, the only means of transport on those days.

I had to go for rehearsal at 11 or something on a Sunday, and that Monday there was to be a bandh. On Sundays, as it is only 40% of the buses would ply on the road.

By the time I got a bus and reached my class, it was 1. I finished in a couple of hours and returned to the bus stop. Knowing it was no use waiting for the direct bus, I decided to get into whichever bus came, and change at the next point. I got into a bus where the number looked unfamiliar, but the route written on the side suggested that I would cover half the distance. Since students were issued passes, I didn't need to tell the conductor my stop name. Ironically, I saw the direct bus right behind this, but didn't attempt to take that.

To my surprise, the bus started moving north. I could still have got off at  a point from where I would have got another bus. But assuming it was taking a circuitous route I waited, and landed up in North Madras, in a place that I didn't recognise.

Panicking, I finally asked the conductor, who had realised that I was lost but was hesitant to approach. The driver was taking the bus out to park it in the depot and offered to drop me at the main road. As I was getting off, the conductor offered me money. I refused, standing on my pride. They advised me to take an auto.

Autos were a scary thought those days. But realising I was very late, I caught one, only to land up with one where the driver had a companion. It was almost 7 by now - and for me, a completely scary experience. We took a route that I was not familiar with, and all gods must have been called to protect me that day.

They did an overtime job and I reached my aunt's house safely. The driver and his companion had been as scared as me when we lost the way in one of the neighbourhoods.

I realised that we underrate our human fellows, most of whom are incapable of thinking up harm to others. A handful of those who do spoil our image of our fellow human beings.

The Sound of Music

Last program sometime in August had been a crash one - with just 3 weeks to practice, learn a new varnam and get on stage. When my legs stiffened, my mind blanked out on what next. Thanks to Crocin, got on stage. But what made me confident of dancing was the opening invocation that the musicians played out. Just closing my eyes and letting that music soak me was enough to forget all earthly bonds and physical limitations. The last mile didn't seem such a challenge.

Last evening, the tension was no less. My old enemy, a catch in the back, caught me just as I was leaving for orchestra rehearsal day before yesterday. Myospaz to the rescue, and I at least practiced in a way that gave me confidence.

But on stage, the tension is different. You cannot relax as you can even on the penultimate day. No water breaks, no phones to distract, no gossip in between to rest your legs.

But what you have is the ambience of the auditorium, the very personal space you can create and the music - nothing but music.

As the Violin, Mrdangam and the vocal come together to start the invocation, the dim lit auditorium and the darkened wings where I wait...with the spot on Lord Nataraja in the front left of the stage...I can't see him, but can imagine him there, with flowers around, a lamp and some incense stick. They are enough to transport me to another space.

That is the moment the magic happens, the soul connects with the one supereme and forgets what the body can or cannot do.

As the program progresses, the throat does dry up, the body does beg to relax. But in between the items, the violinist plays a tune. Just let that music soak me again, and I am back, ready to see the evening through.

What better healer than music?