Rich people, but poor in maintaining heritage

As I travel the length and breadth of my native state, I am amazed seeing astonishing homes on each side. Double storied buildings (houses) popped-up recently are the peculiar structures you may see only in the state of Kerala. Unlike other states in our country Keralites give a considerable amount of significance to the architecture of the homes they dwell.

House is not just a shelter for Malayalees, rather a symbol of their fortunes, heritage and current social status. Wealth flowing through Non- resident Indian Keralites is mainly invested for erecting prestigious houses which speak their social status, pedigree and what not!But there is something that we all are losing in the race of erecting our most modern dream houses. Though many of them try to replicate and blend traditional architecture while they are constructing their dream houses, we are becoming poor in maintaining our heritage.The land of Kerala which is rich in architectural traditions has hardly any old-gold structures especially homes and family homes to show their coming generations. Yes, we are too poor to maintain our traditions and too poor to seal the cracks on the wall.As Kamala Das rightly said “We tore the house apart,Sold the rose wood beams,And a host of great dreamsDreamt by its occupants,”For current generation, it’s an easy task to demolish the structures constructed by our forefathers. They often forget, along with the physical structure they demolish, they shatter the dreams and sweat of their predecessors.You never get to touch the same walls that your grand- parents leaned on .Being in a family home brings back you the lost memories. Their benevolent presence is felt through the lightened memories that the nook and corners of the home offer you.When you thrash down the walls and rafts, you lose fragrance and vast dark corridors where your forefathers weaved their dreams. The incense that filled their blessings and presence is vanished for ever.How can we pretend rich by bulldozing our heritage by settling down in breath-taking villas and sky-high flats that make you forget your history?

Broken rules

On 5^th July 2013, we boarded the Netravati express (a train from Kurla terminus to Trivandrum central) from Panvel station at 1:00 pm.  Journey with my mother is generally exciting and cheerful.  Unfortunately we both were unwell and the fight of fever makes us feel the journey is long.

My parents always insist me to travel by 2^nd AC when I travel alone.  According to them, more than comfort their daughter would be safe with better crowd around. Is there any truth in this? I really doubt.

Me and my mom got settled in the berths (27, side lower & 29, lower) allotted to us. There was a middle aged man sitting at the window side opposite to berth no: 29. He was having lunch when we entered the train. After arranging our luggage I set bed for mom as she was unwell. The co passenger seemed to be a decent person. When he saw me arranging my side lower berth, he told me to shift to his lower berth in exchange of my side lower. The deal was good for both of us as I was able to be with my mom and he gets his privacy too.

The cooperative co-passenger’s mobile phone was ringing throughout. From his replies I made out that he is a business man handling a hospital and a lab in Malad and various other parts of Mumbai.

As the journey proceeded, we started knowing more about him through his phone calls. He was loud and outspoken. The two other co passengers lent their ears to him. He happily explained his business model and the way he makes money in a metro city like Mumbai.

From two- three anecdotes he made himself clear that ethics is not something he followed or valued neither in business nor in life.

 He tried all his ways to be amicable with me and mom. The tricks did not work with both the travel veterans who travelled the length and breadth of the country. He did not even manage to get our names.

We later on got the reason how other co passengers turned this beasts’ friends. It was ‘sprin- off’ mixed with Vodka was the secret behind the formation of the bond between them. Those two travellers invited their other friends and totally 7 men fitted inside that side lower berth and turned that 6 inch place a BAR literally.

Others too opened their stock of alcohol and started celebrating their evening as if they were in a mediocre bar in Mumbai city. Cracking   wicked jokes and comments they were happily partying in Netravati express 16345.

It’s not because the other co passengers who were the victims of their partying were not reactive. We did not have any voice. The middle aged business man, the leader of the gang is a regular traveller and acquaint of all pantry workers and ticket checkers in the train. They even serve him alcohol and allow him to travel ticketless if need arises.

Rules and regulations laid down by Indian railway have been forgotten by not only the watchdogs but those who are liable to follow that.

How will my mom allow me to travel alone even in a 2^nd AC class? Any mom after seeing and experiencing this blasphemy allow her daughter to travel alone?

In India rules are meant to be broken, often watchdogs of these rules are culprit for breaking those regulations. It’s not the absence of rules and regulations rather failed implementation nullifies the existence of such rules. We mourn for victims but we do not bother to prevent it.

The verdict

Out of the box

You passed a ruthless verdict

Breaching the limits of patience

The anguish wings fluttered

With furious red eyes

You entered the land of humans

Ringing the bells of warning for the rest

You swallowed my banks of arrogance

Cold – bloodness and callousness

Like a final judgement day

You entered for a massive wipe out

To remind us our helplessness

We the defenceless humans

Surrendered unto you

The nature

The only silent witness

To our hollow pride 

In your anger filled eyes

And gushing water streams of retaliation

No delineation as rich and poor

Crooked and innocent

Your fire of anguish raised thousand questions

To the deliberately deaf and dumb humans

Who can stand the anger in your eyes?

 The debris of destruction

Gives us a reminder call

We are helpless before nature’s fury!

Eye sight

I saw myself first in your eyes of compassion 

where I saw reflections of empathy

Warmth I felt from everlasting promise

Again I saw myself in your curious eyes of 

knowledge and wisdom

there I saw your urge of teaching me the law of universe

before I comprehend 

your wicked eyes grabbed me into 

the awful black-hole 

that hid in those dark corners of eyes

I saw there the dark side of beastly desires

and I was one among your ample preys

Then I saw the bright side 

reflecting from your eyes of

lovely comeradeship

There I was mischievous, lively and youthful

Flowers smiled for me and the leaves passed their greetings 

Happiness reflected from the heart of your eye

where I learned to be confident 

and shed the leaves of gloomy past

To hope for the spring and one thousand blooms

An accidental glance into the deep corner

of your mysterious eyes

reflected the whole universe

That brought me nearer you from several light years 

Sparkling corners of your eyes embraced me 

with stars infinite 

On  wings of dreams 

I learned the real meaning of existence 

Then I saw the storm of uncertainty 

rowing and confronting with reality

Silent corner of your eye

staring at the horizon 

watching the sinking sun

closing the eyes 

to see the piercing darkness 

that puts together those great  learning