Warrier's Collage April 6, 2021
Welcome to Warrier's
Daily COLLAGE
On Tuesday
April 6, 2021
Lokahitam Mama Karaneeyam
https://youtu.be/djTNi6edmTI
(Link Selection: M G Warrier)
Good Morning
Nice Day
M G Warrier
A
Interaction
1) K Ramasubramanian Mumbai
The incessant faith on the Supreme can accomplish all. If not, the faith is lacking somewhere and not complete. Thank you madam (Ref: Vathsala Jayaraman's write-up, Collage April 5)
2) K Balasubramanian Coimbatore
Enthen idathu tholum
Kannum thudippathenna?
Imbam varuvathenna?
Sol, sol ,sol, kiliye"
by Babusenan...
In dramas, most of the times, what would the climax is foretold casually as conversation Similarly "...Enthen idathu tholum
Kannum thudippathenna?..." is, to tell in advance the misfortune awaiting her...We always tell that left eyes flicking is bad omen for women.
B
Current Affairs
Banking on Hope
https://openthemagazine.com/feature/banking-on-hope/
Excerpts:
"NBFID has been envisaged as a bank that will coordinate as well as invest in infrastructure projects. But it is an institution with a difference. Unlike in the past, this time, the Government has also emphasised the coordinating role for the new DFI. Developing a deep and liquid bond market is also listed as an objective for NBFID. It is the absence of such a market that lies at the heart of India’s current crisis of lending for long-term infrastructure projects, something that has landed the banking system in trouble. The authorised share capital of NBFID has been pegged at Rs1 lakh crore. “Past attempts to have alternative investment funds were taken up, but for various reasons, we ended up with no bank which could take up long-term risk (which is very high) and fund development,” Sitharaman had said after the Cabinet had given the green signal for the DFI."
C
Blogs & Links
1) Pilgrimage
https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/readersblog/bliss/my-holy-kedarnath-yatra-closest-ecstactic-feeling-30846/
Posted online comments:
"beautiful presentation. i have no quarrel with a blog being short. but here i feel you experimented with the idea of just arousing the curiosity of the reader to do independent study about jyothirlingas and understand more. sprinkling of sanskrit stanzas in your blogs adds value. but there would be many readers who may not be very familiar with the language. i\'m not discouraging quotes. you can consider helping out readèrs with transliteration and brief meaning. no, i\'m not trying to \"teach\" how to write. you have an excellent style of presentation and i have read some of your earlier posts. impressed by the elegance of presentation and choice of subjects. keep writing.'"
2) Article from madrascourier.com
https://madrascourier.com/books-and-films/why-the-smell-of-apples-a-novel-published-25-years-ago-is-relevant-today/
Excerpts:
"The novel, set in the virulent nightfall, or twilight, of apartheid in South Africa, and published 25 years ago, is a surgical indictment of apartheid’s sham logic — a looming, understated time-bomb ticking away at its crux. Behr weaves a clear-cut pattern, be it human emotion, or the war in Angola. This makes his work all the more breath-taking; also subtly vertiginous.
The Smell… is the story of a contented, prosperous family, living amidst beautiful settings in Cape Province. The story is told by 11-year-old Marnus, a happy, secure, likeable and sensible kid. Marnus loves his mother, a former opera singer, and worships his father, who is the youngest major general in the South African army. The parents are kindly, sincere and educated folks, but they are the walking representatives of evil — or, proponents of white supremacy."
(Selected by M G Warrier Mumbai)
D
Readers' Contribution
1) Beliefs
Brahma Hatya: V T Panchapagesan Chennai
Brahmin Is the person who is supposed to know Brahma Jnana or
The Eternal truth...
Brahmin can be anyone who qualifies the above aspect...
He can be a Beggar, a Scavenger, illeterate or anyone who achieves /
Qualifies The Supreme Jnana..
Such persons cannot be identified by naked eyes..and also cannot
Be judged by five Senses...
A person who advanced Spirituality, seldom exhibits the vibrations of
Spirituality..As the proverb says “Only the empty bottles rattle”
A Brahma Jnani is very close to a stage of a Nirguna Brahma..
Pure Consciousness and never shows any traits of his knowledge..
A Brahmin cannot be identified in a material world until and unless
He or she reveal himself/herself by action..
Persons those who wear a thread around their body are not real Brahmins..
By birth no one can be a Brahmin . A Shudra can be qualified as a Brahmin
When he performs his Karma in such a manner worthy of his living..
When we get birth in a Brahmin family only meant that we are lucky and
God helped us to progress ourselves by producing a conducive atmosphere
Of performing Karma..If a person who gets birth as a Shudra can drink
The divine knowledge by his performance adhered to by his sane qualities..
Brahma Hatti is considered as the most dreadful sin because we are killing
A person and not allow him to fulfill his incarnation..
A person who is nearing to a salvation stage is again pushing to the wheel
Of Karma ..He or She Salvation abruptly stops and they want to look for another
Body to fulfill liberation...
When we are hungry and get the food at the end off a long struggle and suddenly
Someone prevent us from eating the food, how we feel it in material life?
What could be the sin behold on us by doing so?
As we cannot visualize the inner core of any person whoever he may be, always
Control our anger for not allowing to fall the Brahma Hatti dosa on ourselves..
The death of any common man by our hand may drag him to the cycles
Of Karma for another incarnations....
Ones desires and anger evolve out ‘Rajo Gina’, it is dangerous and sinful,
One should keep away from both desires and anger .
Remedy is to build up positive energy following simple positive techniques which
Will drive away the negativity prevailing within us...making our living blissful..
Be Well,
V. T. Panchapagesan
2) Drama in Real Life: B S Raghavan
The Papal Encounter*
B. S. Raghavan
I WAS in Rome chairing the UN Committee on World Food Security in April 1979. On Palm Sunday, I went to the Vatican and stood engrossed, watching thousands from all over the world streaming into the famous St Peter's Square clutching bunches of palm leaves in their hands. I was dressed in a dark suit with the closed coat, reminiscent of a venerable Bishop's habiliments.
At the Basilica end of the Square, I saw a podium on which were seated the Cardinals in their resplendently red attire and the invited luminaries from far and near.
There was also the richly carved throne at the centre meant for the Pope who was shortly expected to arrive to lead the prayers. Everyone was naturally keyed up to have a look at John Paul II who had assumed the papacy just a year ago and have his blessing.
Suddenly a shadow fell on me, and there I was, looking up at this huge Cardinal towering over me with all those eye-catchingly impressive accoutrements proclaiming his authority.
In an appropriately booming voice, he said to my consternation, "Good morning and welcome, Father! Where are you from?" I was barely able to splutter that I was from India. The Cardinal said, "Why are you standing here, Father, come to the papal enclosure!" In a state near to fainting, I said I had no invitation. He said, "Does not matter, come with me!"
In a moment, I found myself helplessly being steered to the podium by the Cardinal, overruling my feeble and perhaps inaudible protestations, and seated in a chair not far from the papal throne.
Soon the Pope arrived, and moved towards his seat accepting the obeisance of each of the temporal and spiritual big-wigs who fell on their knees and kissed his ring. I was all at sea in the Holy See, benumbed, breathing heavily and bathed in cold sweat.
It was the worst crisis I have had to face in my life, since I did not have the foggiest notion how I was going to get through the unfamiliar rituals without mishap.
I had not a scintilla of doubt that my involuntary impersonation as an itinerant Bishop from the Orient was soon going to be exposed with dire consequences of deportation coupled with imprisonment.
Meanwhile, the Pope was (in my eyes) menacingly advancing towards me.
That sunny morning on Palm Sunday of 1979 in Rome was in stark contrast to the dark gloom enveloping me, deposited among prelates and plenipotentiaries apparently gathered to perform esoteric rituals in the heart of the Holy See, bracing myself for a face-to-face encounter with Pope John Paul II, feeling inside me as if I was coming face-to-face with my Maker!
In no time at all, the Pope stood before me, bestowing a benign glance and beatific smile, and ere I could decide whether or not to fall to my knees, quickly moved on to his ornamental chair.
Luckily, the rest of the happenings did not involve my having to take part in any rituals or make a spectacle of myself, except to rise from my seat now and then by taking the cue from the rest of the flock on the podium, synchronising my lips to some prayers intoned in Latin.
Thus, without any effort on my part, thanks to a kind-hearted Cardinal, I was able to have a ringside seat, close to the Pope, on one of the most important occasions for Catholics. (I am not to blame, folks, if you were agog for something sensational!)
I had not the least idea as I was leaving the St Peter's Square that I was destined to be hailed as a Pope myself. It happened this way. My brother was arriving in Rome from Paris that day.
I thought I would check up on this and went to the hotel where he was booked to stay. The receptionist told me that he had gone out and so, I decided to leave a note for him.
At the end of the note, with the receptionist avidly peeking in, I signed myself "Papa" which is how close family members call me. No sooner did the receptionist see the word than he jumped in great excitement, and gesticulating wildly, shouted in part exclamation and part interrogation, "Il Papa!? Il Papa!?" and made the sign of the cross.
I was shocked that he should be presumptuous enough to call me papa with barely five minutes' acquaintance and proclaim me to be ill to boot.
My assurances that I was hale and hearty made no impact on him. An Italian guest at the hotel who was sitting in the lounge and knew a smattering of English came to the counter and asked if I was a Pope of some church by any chance.
I said, "Not yet!" and bolted from the place.
******************************
*Forward received from V R Chittanandam Cheñnai
E
Story Time with Vathsala Jayaraman Chennai
Steal from a beggar: Vathsala Jayaraman Chennai
The story which I read in Tamil some 25 years back comes to my mind.
The word success seems to be a relative term.
If something happens as per our wish ,it is success.
Sometimes we take up certain things knowing fully well that it will fail. Actually when it fails we have some satisfaction that what had been expected has happened. Therefore there is no
disappointment, though not rejoicing.
Coming to the story, a person meets a rich person in connection with a work. Even while approaching the rich guy, this man knows fully well that he won't get any money from the rich
one. The man returns empty handed. Yet he wants to celebrate the failure, which is a success in his perception.
Now he wants to celebrate the victory.
One need not have loads of money for
celebration. It can be celebrated within
one's mind also. Depends on how one feels.
He has got only one Rupee coin in his pocket.
He needs 12 Annas to go home by train.
Yet he has got 4 Annas.
He goes to a hotel, pays two annas and takes strong hot aromatic filter coffee with less sugar.
He feels great delight in taking the hot drink sip by sip.
Aiah! Now he has got two annas extra after allotting 12 Annas for travel.
Now he sees a beggar near the railway station asking for alms. He has an Aluminium plate that has pieces quarter Anna, half-an-anna
and a few pieces of one Anna.
"If I give two annas to this blind beggar,
how happy he would feel. I can also raise my collar of having donated a big sum
( two Annas was a big amount in those days.)
As the man dropped the white two Anna coin, the beggar touched the coin and blessed the gentleman. The man felt as though he had done a great charity and has celebrated the success ( expected failure).
Now the man reaches the booking counter, gives 12 Annas and asks for a ticket for his native place. For the past so many years he has been getting ticket for twelve annas.
The booking clerk returns the money saying that the price of the ticket has been increased by one anna with effect from that date.
Whom can he ask for one Anna? Just five minutes back he has with pride donated two Annas to the beggar. Now he has to beg for an anna.
He thinks of asking a man in his 50s who was reading news paper. He dropped his idea when he listens to the gentleman lecturing to some other man about the tenacity of beggars.
Even now the white two Anna coin is shining in the beggar's plate. After all it is he who has given two Annas. It was customary in those days to place one Anna and take half-an-anna back from the beggar's bowl.
Now he walks to the beggar.
His conscience says," you have already given two annas to the beggar. It belongs to him.:
His reasoning says 'you have given two annas.
If you put one anna in the plate and take the two anna coin from the plate, even then it amounts to have contributed one anna to the beggar.
He wants to listen to his reasoning.
"Is this theft?"
" No. Just five minutes back it was your property".
The man slowly walks to the beggar, puts one anna from out of the twelve annas in the plate and
as he is trying to take the Two Anna coin, the beggar catches hold of the man's hand
and asks, "A few minutes back a nice gentleman
gave me the precious two anna coin. Now you are taking away the coin replacing it by one Anna.
"Don't cheat a blind beggar. You will go to hell."
Charity once granted should never be taken back.
The man just said 'sorry' and left the place.
Now his charity was three Annas and his purse was thinner by one more Anna.
The only reward of giving charity of three Annas was to walk 4 miles to the next station from where he could reach his native place within 11 Annas.
Half an hour passes. Next train gets delayed by one hour. There is a lot of 'Halchal' He understands that the earlier train missed by him has derailed
and some ten passengers met with death.
Did his dharmam ( charity) of three annas save him from the clutches of Yama?
Is this always true?
It was the year 1956 or 1957 when Ariyalur Train accident took place and Shri Lal Bahdur Shastri, the railway minister resigned owning responsibility
to the accident. I was doing my S S L C class.
A classmate of mine, just married three months earlier was waiting to join her husband soon after public exams were over. Her mother suddenly died.
Her father gave a telegram to his son-in-law stating 'Wife passed away. Start immediately".
The young boy thought his young wife passed away. There were no phones in those days to get confirmation. Actually he was in a cinema theatre when the telegram came.
His friends consoled him, went upto Egmore Station to see him off. He boarded one compartment and later due to some reason changed his compartment.
That was a fateful day. The train got derailed and it was the final journey to the boy also who travelled by the ill fated compartment.
Had he remained in the same compartment where he boarded, he would have escaped.
A few people who missed the train,
escaped the evil.
The young girl lost her mother and husband on the same day.
Then we studied together in the college.
She was given appointment in RBI on compassionate grounds after she finished graduation.
15 years later, a widower sought her hand and now she is happy with two daughters.
Is it destiny? Kaarmic consequences?
Can a big or small charity save a person from a great calamity?
Is success and failure one and the same?
The questions remain unanswered for ever.
Vathsala Jayaraman
(A touching narration of real life incidents. Now for a diversion, a theft I enjoyed:
https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/readersblog/warriersviews/theft-a-lie-and-a-friendship-26147/)
F
Leisure
Autocorrect Woes: Collage is not alone*
A story by Ramakrishna Desiraju - This whimsical story is dedicated to my father, who passed away at 90 last year. And, no, he had nothing to do with Egypt.
'Mr.Rao, we're from Interpol. We'd like to ask you some questions.' The sprightly Bhamidipati Ramachandra Rao, all of 87, bookmarked his Desmond Bagley, and smiled. Finally, his life was getting exciting.
'Please come in, to what do I owe the honour of your visit?', B.R.Rao, said, summoning up the etiquette he gleaned from a lifetime of living through film and fiction. 'I have discovered a wonderful combination of Plantation PB, Arabica AB, and chicory', he continued.
Rao had seen Maltese Falcon for the seventeenth time the previous night. With a little imagination, his visitors looked like Humphrey Bogart and Peter Lorre. Bogart said, 'That would be quite excellent, thank you.' It took some time, coffee, and kara boondi mixture before Messrs Bogart and Lorre got started.
Mrs. Rao had a Ladies' Club lunch, and Rao had all the time in the world. He wanted to savour every moment of this welcome distraction. 'What is your interest in Egypt, Mr.Rao?', Bogart finally asked. Rao looked as surprised as he was. MacLean, Fleming, and Gardner hadn't prepared him for this. He was out of syllabus here. He should have read more Greene and LeCarre.
But, the DGM Finance (Retd.) of SCI was made of sterner stuff. He looked at Bogart and Lorre like he would at a clerk who had brought him a file before SM(Accts) had initialed it. 'Please explain', he said, firmly.
Lorre said, 'Er... we have been tracking your messages for some time, Sir, and we'd like to understand your disproportionate interest in Egypt'. 'I still don't understand. Why are you tracking my messages?', said Rao, with a puzzled expression. Lorre opened his brief case.
Rao couldn't help feeling a flutter of excitement. This was way better than lifting a lid to see if it was rava upma or red upma for breakfast.
Lorre pulled out what looked like a print-out of mobile phone screenshots. He said, 'Are these from your WhatsApp chats?' Rao's eyes widened. 'I thought only Navika had access to these', he said.
'Navika?', Bogart asked sharply. 'Just a joke, Sir.', Rao said, 'Yes, these appear to be from my chats'. 'Good, then could you care to explain the lines that are highlighted', Bogey said with a thinly veined note of premature triumph.
Rao's mind raced. What would Perry Mason do, he thought. Should he ask to see ID, should he say he will not talk without a lawyer, should he upturn the coffee table, fling kara boondi in their eyes, and leap out of the window?
Rao calmed his Walter Mitty instincts, and said quietly, 'Certainly, Sir, let me get my glasses.' Bogart said, 'Let's start with the first one, Mr.Rao. Could you explain 'I know people down the nile. I can take care of it.' ?'
Rao squinted at the page. And then burst into a nervous laugh. 'It's a typo. I meant to say 'line', not Nile. My nephew wanted some papers cleared in my old office. I had consulted for many years after retirement. I have connections.'
Bogart didn't look convinced. How about this one, 'Let's slice the pyramid, parallel to the ground, at equal intervals in four parts?' Rao smiled weakly. 'Mensuration,' he said, 'My granddaughter takes my help with Maths.'
Lorre pointed to a highlighted text, 'Explain this.' Rao saw the screenshot of a conversation. Someone had asked, 'Have you decided?' and he had replied, 'Definitely Giza. Certainly not Hawaii. And keep it quiet. Nothing loud that will get attention.'
'Shirts, my good friends, shirts. My daughter sent me some options. And I chose Egyptian Giza cotton. Why, that's the shirt I'm wearing right now. What a coincidence!' Rao said, beginning to really enjoy this investigation.
'We're just getting started, Mr.Rao. There's more. And don't you think the coincidences are too convenient? There have been significant events that have occurred soon after each of these mentions in your chats. And you call that blast in Giza quiet?''
Rao said, 'More coffee? The missus is not here, I can't offer anything else. Unless you'd like to try some Mysore Pak.' Bogey said, curtly, "No, thank you, Mr.Rao. And do you have any explanation for this one?'
The next chat had just just one statement highlighted. "If the Suez Canal gets blocked, we will have a situation that nobody can ignore. This is not a threat. In a week it will be reality." Rao stared at the print-out in silence.
And then burst into laughter that went on for a whole minute. Bogey and Lorre were not impressed. They waited for Rao to get a grip on himself. Finally, he spluttered, 'It was meant to be sewage canal. It's been backing up for days in our housing society... that message is from our residents' WA group... I believe you should be talking to Mr. Auto Correct.'
Bogart said, 'You sure can think on your feet Mr.Rao. What about the next one?' . Rao looked at the yellow-highlighted comment dated 22 March. 'EVER GIVEN. NEVER TAKEN. Will not budge an inch.'
'Not so easy now, is it Mr.Rao? The crew was all-Indian. You spent your life in shipping. You know all about the impact of blocking the canal. And you send this message. All coincidences again?'
Rao sighed. He looked at his surprise visitors and said, 'I am 87. My eyes aren't great. The keypad is too small for me. My fingers aren't steady. Then there's Mr. Auto Correct...'
'I'm a proud Indian', he continued, 'And a Gandhian. I was advised by my CA to pay a bribe to sort out some property sale matter. Meant to write 'NEVER GIVEN. NEVER TAKEN', my motto regarding bribes. I missed an N.'
'Oh', said Bogey, 'You have an answer for everything, don't you, Mr.Rao?' One last thing... for now. You're on Twitter, we see. Why does your bio have a flag of Egypt?'
Rao looked flummoxed for the first time. He stared hard at the print out of his bio. Then he smiled a resigned smile. 'On my screen, the flag is less than a centimetre. I thought that was that was the Indian flag.'
Bogart and Lorre looked at each other. Finally Bogart said, 'You said something about Mysore Pak. What's your connection with Pakistan. And Navika? Navika has something to do with boat, right?'. Rao sighed.
(*If this is a repeat, praise your memory. I received from a well-wisher who said I should be more careful with letters and punctuations. But, my Luck Account is not that strong nowadays🙏-Warrier)
G
Quotes about impersonation
http://www.picturequotes.com/impersonation-quotes
Like:
More and more, it feels like I’m doing a really bad impersonation of myself (Impersonation Quotes)
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