Gayatri Shenoy

The hullabaloo doesn’t seem to diffuse even on the next day after the wedding celebrations. Everyone is up and about Roy’s ancestral house, chattering away merrily. There are beautiful flower arrangements all around (even though they are close to wilting at end of day – they still look pretty). I settle myself on the teak jhoola, which looks quite inviting. It’s been quite an eventful evening, followed by a hearty dinner. Some more time rocking on this swing and I shall be soon induced into slumber.

“Pssssstttttt!!!” I hear a small voice murmur to me from somewhere nearby. I look around to identify who it is but can’t see anybody. Then I sense someone tugging at my sari. I look to see Roy’s little nephew standing behind the jhoola, grinning at me impishly. “Oh it’s you Siddharth!” I exclaim “I was wondering who…” He doesn’t let me complete my sentence. He skips about and stands before me, all of 2 feet, a skinny lad with bright eyes and long lashes. “Maami!!” He speaks out in his baby lisp, “I have something for you!” He hands me a wilted yet pretty pink rose. “Awww! Thanks baby!” I am pleasantly surprised “Where did you get it from?” “It was lying on the floor…I liked it so I took it…” He speaks in all his innocence. I can’t help smiling. “Thanks a lot dear. I liked your gift a lot!”

Frankly speaking, it was quite amusing (and unexpected!) becoming a Maami to all these tiny tots (Roy’s nieces & nephews). Roy is amused as well to see the kids totally enamoured by the new addition to their family. He complains in jest that the kids have forgotten their Maama. Gifts for ‘Maami’ range from – wilted flowers to their share of chocolates (sometimes even half-eaten), from hairclips (borrowed from their mother’s dressing tables) to interesting insects found in our garden!! They will not leave their new Maami alone for even a minute. Siesta time is now taken over by story telling sessions, evenings are a round of carom or snakes-n-ladders.

Life brings so many new and worth experiencing changes into your life. I had never even imagined getting married would mean so many new things. The bonds and relations formed bring so many wonderful experiences your way. The love and affection they shower is so genuine & pure, you want to savour each memory and each gift they present you - may it be a sweet kiss on the cheek or a lil’ catterpillar!

“…Our castle stands atop the hills
And offers strength of spirit
Place your hand little one unto mine
And I shall lead you to it.

The family castle is now your home
The stones grow ever stronger
For the castle’s built on love and hope
Alone you are no longer…”

(Poem - The Family Castle, By Nancy Rakovszky)

“Somewhere over the rainbow,
Way up high,
There’s a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the rainbow,
Skies are blue;
And the dreams that you dare to dream of,
Really do come true…”

…coos Norah Jones through my iPod as I trudge my way home. Nothing beats golden jazz to help you unwind after a hectic day at work. It is springtime in the UK, and there is lush greenery everywhere. I spot a gang of local teenagers coming up on the same footpath as I am on. They are about 16 or 17 years old , on their way to some pub. Physically they appear older than me being taller and well-built. As they approach nearer, they block the whole footpath such that there is no room for me to pass by and I will have to get down from the footpath if I have to walk by. I turn off my iPod and pocket it. I assume on approaching nearer they would make way for me as all other pedestrians do. But they don’t.

They are snickering over something; two of the guys have beer cans in their hands. When we are finally face to face, I try to walk on the edge of the footpath lest I bump into any of them. One of the guys brushes his elbow against mine (on purpose) and tries to act as though I elbowed him hard and spills his beer can on the road. The girls start giggling out loud. The guys start abusing me “You f___ spastic…you dumb retard Paki…” The horrible words assail my ears. I don’t turn back and just continue walking. One of them throws an empty can at me, which doesn’t hit me but falls nearby.

I am amazed at my own passivity. I don’t turn back and just keep on walking. Deep inside I am quite shaken by the whole incident, trivial as it may seem. I come home and just crash down on the bed…I put on my earphones again…

“Well I see trees are Green and Red roses too…
I watch them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world…

I see skies are blue and I see clouds are white
And the brightness of day
I like the dark …and I think to myself
What a wonderful world…”

I reflect about the discrimination against people belonging to various castes, religions and regions back at home. All those misgivings, reservations and prejudice some people have to live with - day in and day out. And then I think about this racism rampant in many countries. Many people having gone through much worse, more humiliating and even life threatening.

Why is that little tear drop coming out of my eye…and then there is another one…and another…and before I know there are more coursing down both cheeks…

“The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people passing by
I see friends shaking hands
Saying, “How do you do?”
They’re really saying, I…I love you

I hear babies cry and I watch them grow,
They’ll learn much more
Than we’ll ever know…
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world…”

Ajji had come to live with us even before I was born. Ajji is my maternal grandmother, my Ajja, maternal grandfather, had expired few years before I was born. My paternal grandparents had expired when my Dad was in his teens. So Ajji is the only grandparent I had ever seen or lived with. My uncle was not married at that time and constantly on move throughout India due to his job. Ajji preferred to live with us in Bombay and go over to meet her relatives occasionally.

Since my parents were working, Ajji looked after me and my sister during the day. She would cook for us and feed us. Tell us lots of stories and play “house-house” with us. Being the eldest, I was very naughty and always getting into trouble. Be it catching kittens by their tails, stealing flowers from our neighbor’s gardens, bossing over all our colony kids and my younger sister, breaking window panes, ringing door bells and running away, the list was endless. And so was the list of complaints my Ajji passed on to my Mum when she came home from work in the evening. “Today Gundu did this…today Gundu did that…”

I started detesting my granny for that because these “Gundu’s Karamatein” (Gundu’s antics) sessions would be followed with a good scolding and many a times sound pasting from my Mum depending on the degree of monkey business I had indulged in. As we grew up and entered our teens, things between my Ajji and me became a tad bit more unfriendly. She would pass sarcastic comment on my Clothes – which she found always too short, my music – which she found always too loud, that I was watching MTV – which was an offensive channel to her for it had people clad in undergarments dancing about vulgarly, the time I spent away from studies reading comics hidden inside textbooks and practically every other thing a teenager indulges in.

I was too young and naive to understand the fundas of generation gap differences, seeing from an elder’s perspective and all that. We would have squabbles over every other thing under the sun! With my Mum siding with my Ajji and myself on the receiving end. My goodie-good sister always went Scot-free. There would be comparisons drawn between both of us and I would be oft rebuked to mend my ways. I would go to the extent of drawing caricatures of a she-devil in my school books and label it ‘Ajji’. Which when discovered by my Mum would mean another earful about not showing respect to elders.

The teen angst years passed by, and then came college, higher education and work.Once on to a job, I found myself constantly traveling and moving about all over India and the world. That was the first time I realized how much I missed my family…and how much I loved them. I would try to keep in touch with everyone once every few days on Phone and Chat. I would spend a lot of time shopping gifts for everyone. When I would come home, I would be treated royally. Gone were the days of Gundu’s Karamatein, now I had more respect in the house due to my academic record and job. Everyone pampered and doted on me and I was really happy. Then due to work pressures I would not find time to speak regularly on phone. Many a times I would be bored and just mutter ‘Hmmm…Hmmm’s to my mum’s complains about my Dad, my Ajji’s in detail account of the day’s cooking, my Dad’s advice to me for every other thing. I was not really listening and busy absorbed in my own world.

Then came the day, when my Uncle announced his plans to move back to our ancestral home in our native place. His wife had passed away shortly after getting married and he has no offspring. He is alone and wants his mother to come live with him. My granny was delighted on the thought of having to have to spend her last days in her native place and her son. She would miss us a lot and loved it here in Mumbai but she had not seen her village for many years and wants to spend some time with her son. My mother is very unhappy to see her go but she wants her Mother to spend her last few years as per her wishes and happiness. Ajji promised to come visit us often and that we would go to visit her there as well. In spite of all her naggings and complains, we kids had come to love our Ajji.

We know in our hearts the people who matter the most to us, the people who we love the most, nonetheless we always tend to take them for granted. When she was with us, I didn’t take time to sit down and talk my hearts content to her. I didn’t take the time to admit how much I love her. But now that she is going away, I think about her all the time. I call her up without fail everyday, I enquire about her health, what she cooked and is she taking her medicines. I plan to meet her every month and have her at my place as frequently as possible. Why is it that we realize true worth of our parents when it dawns on us that they may not be there with us forever? I curse myself for being so ignorant. But I vow to treat everyone much better and with much more love, care and affection. I no longer wish to sit until I lose them completely and then realize what a grave mistake I did. It is not that I live for them, but whatever I am today is all thanks to them. They make my life…every day – worth living!

It was around half past ten when we all trudged back to our college Hostel. The nine of us (Yes, we had a big gang ) had been out for a Romantic Comedy “50 First Dates”, followed by hearty dinner at a local eatery and thus had managed to cross the 10 pm deadline set by our “khadoos” Girls Hostel warden Vimlaji. The watchman, Bahadur Kaka was our pal, so he let us in with smile. He was used to our mischievous activities. Slowly each one of us tiptoed up the staircase and into our rooms, lest we awake the monster warden. Once inside, we let out a huge sigh of relief “Whew! That was quite close. I’m happy that monster didn’t wakeup” I said to my room-mates. “I swear!” replied Shreya “I didn’t want to spoil the after-taste of a fantastic movie and dinner after bumping into the Big Bhootni of our Hostel!” Everyone broke into laughter at Shreya’s comment but soon hushed up at the thought of waking up Vimlaji with all that noise.

As we prepared for bed, the movie was evidently still running on our minds. “Hey Anu!” Preeta broke my train of thoughts “How did you find the movie? Adam Sandler is so cute, isn’t he?” “The movie was funny” I replied “But I’m not a big fan of Sandler and his humour. Give me Jerry Seinfeld or Matthew Perry anytime! ” “Hmmm so Anu would prefer Chandler over Sandler ha!” Shreya chirped in. After some more banter and gossiping, we all fell asleep. It had been quite an enjoyable evening.

I don’t quite remember how it all started. I was deep asleep, when all of a sudden I felt someone touching my forehead. I couldn’t actual decipher the touch, but it was as though someone was patting on my forehead – as though lulling me to sleep. My first reaction was irritation on being woken up like this. But as much as I tried I just couldn’t get my eyes to open. I tried to move my hands but to no avail. I was flabbergasted! I was not able to move my hands, nor my legs, could not even open my eyes. Some kind of invisible power had paralyzed me all over. It was the most frightening thing that could ever happen to me. To add to it there was that feeling of some hand patting on my forehead. I started saying all the prayers that I knew – the Ganesha stotra, Hanuman chalisa…even the Our Father in Heaven! Sounds funny, doesn’t it? But at that moment of time only I knew what I was going through. I don’t know when I fell asleep again. I guess that bizarre event stopped in a short while and I was induced into a dreamless slumber.

When I woke up the next morning, I was still shaken by the previous night’s incident and spoke about it to my friends. “Hey Anu, don’t worry!” my friends consoled me “Must have been some bad dream. Just forget it.” Thinking it was the best to forget it all, I washed my hands off that incident as a nightmare. A few months later when I was home during vacation, it happened again. One afternoon, during siesta I felt that hand patting my head again, touching my neck. My mother was sleeping next to me. I tried to call out to her, but was just not able to neither open my mouth nor move. I willed my eyes to open with all the courage I could muster. And then in a few minutes, it all stopped! I woke my mum up and told her about it all. “Goodness Anuradha!!” mum exclaimed, “Why didn’t you tell me all this before? Hey bhagwaan! This is not a normal thing. I will have to take you to Guruji as soon as possible.” She frightened me even further with more old wives tales.

I didn’t believe in all these Gurujis and Babajis, but for the sake of my mother’s faith I went along with her. Even I was curious to know what he had to say on this. This particular Guruji was an educated, middle class guy who was sans all the garbs of a Sadhu but he was melodramatic nonetheless. “Bum bum bole!” he muttered after listening to my mother’s narration, “Anuradha beti, you have been struck by an Evil eye – Boori Nazar!! This all has happened because of that Boora Saaya(Evil shadow)!” My mother got scared, “Guruji please save my daughter! Is there anything we can do to end that Boori Nazar” “Don’t worry Behenji” he replied after a dramatic pause “I will give her a Taveez (amulet) to wear which will ward off all evil eyes! I will also perform a small pooja if you don’t mind, which will make sure your daughter is protected from all kinds of evil!” My mum was happy “Don’t worry about money Guruji! Please conduct that pooja at the earliest!” I wasn’t very happy with this, but there was no point in reasoning it out with my mum – she just wouldn’t listen. We had the pooja conducted soon and I got a ‘blessed’ Taveez tied to my arm.

After some days, I removed it and threw it away. After reading so much, I wasn’t satisfied with all this hog wash. I wanted to know the real reason behind what had happened to me. I knew what I had experienced and it was something “surreal”. I wanted to get to the root of this and the Guruji’s boori nazar story was as bogus as could get. One of my friend’s brothers was a practicing neurosurgeon and I went over to his place to find out more.
On hearing my tale, the first thing he asked me was “Anu, how do you sleep?”
I smiled “Just like everyone else! Do you mean to say how do I position myself?”
“Yes, that’s right I want to know whether you sleep face down, sideways, face up,…”
“I usually sleep with my face upwards!” I replied.

“Hmmm…and do you use a good pillow?” he asked me.“No. As a matter of fact, I don’t use a pillow at all. Don’t find it comfortable!”
“That explains it…” He said with a smile.“Ok! So you understand why this could be happening?” I asked him.
“Yes, I think it’s quite simple. What you’ve been through is a mild version of something termed as ‘Sleep Paralysis’. It has got nothing to do with evil eyes or ears.”I was curious, “Is it something serious?”
“In your case, I don’t think there is anything to be afraid of. I would suggest you to change your sleeping position. Preferably sleep sideways. And try to use a small pillow in order to support your head when you are asleep. ”
“Why is that required?” I was interested to know further.
“When you tend to sleep without a pillow and that too face up, the oxygen supply to your brain gets cut off; which results in a temporary paralysis often accompanied by hallucinations. Like in your case you felt a hand on your head. Avoid sleeping face up, do not indulge in excessive caffeine or smoking, do not eat large quantities of food before you sleep. Stress levels can also be a factor that causes it. But in your case it is just the wrong sleeping position”

“Okay, I will try to avoid that from now on” I nodded my head.
“Does this ever happen again I would suggest you try to break off it. Try to move some body part with your will, like a finger or a toe or even your eyelids. The moment you move a body part – the sleep paralysis will cease instantly! If sometimes you are unable to do so try to imagine you are moving your head or fingers and your mind will become active and the sleep paralysis episode will end.”
“That sounds interesting! I will surely go ahead and attempt that.” I felt better.
“See Anuradha, You are a brave lass. Don’t let such small things get you down. Medical science has advanced by leaps and bounds. It is time for everyone to sit up and think rationally.”
His words made a lot more sense then all those superstitious stories. I followed his advice and it worked.

Take a Quarter teaspoon of Courage and a Quarter teaspoon of Will power, Add half a spoon of Proper Counselling and Guidance and you will be able to chase all your nightmares away.
Say Goodbye to all Taveez, Babajis and Boori Nazar!!

The city of Pune used to be the political hub of the Maratha Empire. Most of us may have read about the History of the Maratha Empire during our school days. During my early days in Pune, my friends and I planned a day out visiting all of Pune’s historical monuments. One of those remarkable monuments we visited was the Shaniwar wada fort.

The Shaniwar Wada Fort is a palace fort situated in the heart of Pune city. Shaniwar Wada in Marathi means a Saturday residential complex, mainly because the foundation ceremony for this fort was carried out on an auspicious Saturday by Peshwa Bajirao I on 10th January, 1730. Baji Rao I was a noted General of Emperor Chhatrapati Shahu. This fort is open to general public all through the year between 9 am and 6 pm. The entrance fee is minimal and there are tour guides available who try their best to tell you the tragedies the walls of this fort have witnessed. The magnificent Dilli Darwaza, stone walls, manicured green lawns, the Nagarkhana, 9 towers, Mastani Darwaja,…all lie still…mute witnesses of 4 generations of Peshwas and the gory history behind each.

I had heard tales from the locals that the Shaniwar wada is haunted. Many plays in Marathi theatre have been based on this same folk lore and we were inquisitive to know more. On asking our tour guide about it, he took us to one a particular section of the fort. It appeared as an ordinary fort section, a kind of a Darwaza (door) with passages adjacent to both sides leading to stairways. History has it that, after the death of Madhav Rao Peshwa, his younger brother Narayan Rao succeeded him who was only thirteen years old. Since Narayan Rao was still a minor his uncle Raghunathrao became his guardian and started acting as the regent. As days passed by Raghunathrao became greedy and ambitious to become the Peshwa himself. He plotted along with his scheming and cunning wife Anandibai.

In 1773, when Narayan Rao was only fourteen years old, his uncle sent his guards to catch Narayan Rao and bring him. Legend has it that, the Uncle had sent a message to his guards ‘Narayan Rao la dharaa’ (which means in marathi - capture Narayan Rao) but his wily wife changed the message to ‘Narayan Rao la maaraa’ (which means – kill Narayan Rao). Thus Anandibai went down in history for changing ‘dha’ to ‘maa’ and abetting the killing of the young prince. On seeing the guards coming after him the young prince fled inside the fort towards his Uncle’s place Badami Mahal crying “Kaka! Mala vachva!” (Uncle! Please save me!) But no one came to his rescue. His uncle stood and watched Narayan Rao being killed. Narayan Rao was hacked into so many pieces that it had to be carried in a vessel through the door.

Raghunathrao was awarded the Death sentence for abetting this gruesome crime. Locals say that on specific nights of the year you can still hear Narayan Rao’s cry for help “Kaka! Mala vachva!” They think it is his distressed soul still seeking help. We left the fort with our minds still imagining these historical incidents. The present day tranquility of this place is only marred with couples hobnobbing in hidden passages of the fort who are shooed off by the guards at regular intervals, “Raju loves Pinki” and other lovelorn graffiti scribbled unjustly into the walls of this historical beauty. The distressed soul of Narayan Rao Peshwa is certainly the last thing on their minds for sure. Even though all these tales built upon the actual historical events could be just a farce but no one can deny the actual history of any place.

Indian history does have a lot more interesting stories then the ones we glanced at in our History textbooks

Disclaimer: This post is not shared here with the intention to encourage any kind of blind or superstitious beliefs or belief in the paranormal, etc. It is a general post and discretion of the readers is requested in order to perceive the article.

Give below are some of Unusual Places of visit in India.
Courtesy a site I came across.

If in case any of our fellow bloggers have been to any of these places , please feel free to share your experiences and shed light on the mystery behind these places.

Place: Gujarat - Surat – Dumas
It is said that if you walk towards the ocean at night in Dumas you tend to hear noises that will tell you go home, don’t go forward etc. Dogs start chasing you sometimes but they say that the dogs run because they are trying to get away from that place as well. This all happens because the Hindus cremate their dead at this site and some souls are said to linger in this place.

Place: Hyderabad - Ramoji Film City
It is a big film city in Hyderabad. The hotels in Ramoji film city are said to be haunted. They say that the film city is built on war grounds of the Nizam sultans. Witnesses report the lights kept on top keep falling off, the light men- who sit with the lights on top have been pushed so many times and many have had grievous injuries. The food left in rooms also gets scattered around the room and strange marks are left on the mirror. The Spirits are said to create a lot of havoc. Many preventive measures have been taken to prevent haunting but all in vain.

Place: Lonavala - Maharashtra - Raj Kiran hotel
Reports of bed sheets being pulled off and continue to be pulled even after the guest is woken up. This room is in the corner and at the backside of the reception on the ground floor itself. The Hotel authorities have now closed that particular section of the building.

Place: Pune - Shaniwarwada Fort
When Peshwas ruled the western Indian province, Narayan the heir of the kingdom was assassinated on his uncle Madhavrao’s wife’s orders. Narayan was chased by his assassins across the entire fort. It was said that while running for his life he cried out “Uncle save me”, and even today locals say that they hear his cries for help at midnights on new moon day.

Place: Rajasthan - Alwar / Bhangarh - Ajabgarh - Bhangarh ruins
Bhangarh is a place on way from Jaipur to Alwar city in Rajasthan state of India. Today Bhangarh is known for its ruins where nobody dares to stay after sunset. As per historical legends, this town was established by Madho Singh, younger brother of King Akbar’s General Man Singh, in 1631. But the city seems to have been abandoned in a hurry some centuries later. As per local folks, due to some curse the whole town was vacated overnight.

According to this curse it was also said that if the town was ever rediscovered, the township would not be found, but only temples would show up. True to the story, only temples dot the landscape and even far up on the mountains only shrines can be seen. People say that anyone who stays after dark never returns. The biggest thing is that as per Govt. of India a rule states that there has to be an office of Archaeology Survey of India (ASI) beside every historical structure in India. But even Government authorities couldn’t dare to open an office there and they opened their office about one kilometer away from the ruins of Bhangarh. Also ASI has put a signboard at Bhangarh saying, “Staying after sunset is strictly prohibited in this area.” People who visit this place out of tourist interest say that there is a strange feeling in the atmosphere of Bhangarh, which causes sort of anxiety and restlessness.

Place: West Bengal - Kurseong - Dow-Hill
The forests are said to have an uncanny feeling about them. It is very damp, cold and sometimes dark. People up here tend to be depressed and countless murders have taken place. On the stretch between Dow-Hill road and the Forest Office, wood cutters returning in the evenings have sited a young boy walking head-less for several yards and then walk away from the road into the woods. Other than this, footsteps are heard in the corridors of the Victoria Boys School when the school is closed for long holidays from December to March.

Place: Delhi - Delhi cantonment
People have reported having seen a lady standing in a white dress asking for lift. If they drive through her she is said to run as fast as the car runs & people reported her sitting there.
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Just a light hearted post on the occasion of All Fool’s Day :-)
If in case any of our fellow bloggers have been to any of these places , please feel free to share your experiences and shed light on the mystery behind these places

This happened last year in Pune. My mother was over at my place for the weekend and we both were out shopping. On our way back home, we decided to visit one of Pune’s famous temples dedicated to my favourite deity Lord Ganesha Dagdusheth Halwai Ganapati Temple located in the heart of Pune city and very close to historical Shaniwar Wada fort, which was the administrative headquarters of the Peshwas of Maratha Empire. There are many an interesting folklores about the fort, which I would like to share in my future posts, but getting back to the current topic.

‘Aami aar Feluda’ :: Feluda & I

My first encounter with Feluda was when I was 12 years old and he was about 27 years old. His real name was Pradosh Chandra Mitter, Feluda was his nickname. Feluda was about 6ft tall with a good athletic physique, and sharp features. But he used his physical prowess only when required. Feluda believed in the might of brain over brawn. We both shared a lot of hobbies. He too had a voracious appetite for books and General Knowledge. He was fond of playing chess, solving puzzles and riddles and never left any challenge unturned which would exercise his brain. He smoked cigarettes, Charminar being his favorite brand (I’m sure he must have stopped smoking by now). Apart from that one bad habit, he took care of himself really well. Getting up early in morning to do Yoga, going for walks and staying fit.

I am back to one of my ardent interests – Cinema – I would like to pen a few lines on some of the remarkable children’s movies produced in India. The credit for producing these unforgettable children’s movies goes undoubtedly to the CFSI.

Thanks to this website, I was able to muse over some very creative and heart touching children’s movies I had watched on Doordarshan years ago. Here is an excerpt on one of my favorites …

Movie Title: Abhayam (Shelter)
Year: 1991

Director: Sivan
Script: Shibu Chakravarthy
Camera: Santosh Sivan
Cast: Master Tarun, Baby Ambili, Madhu, Ramachandran, Parvathy

Synopsis:
I saw this movie in Malayalam, with English subtitles, when I was in 5th or 6th grade at my aunt’s place during the summer vacations. I do not know Malayalam but I recollect of having been able to comprehend the whole movie due its sheer simplicity and skill, even without glancing at the subtitles.