Kaadampuzha temple

 

Kadampuzha is a devi temple in Malappuram district on route to Calicut from Thrissur .

Its an ancient temple associated with Mahabharatha .

It was consecrated by Sankaracharya .

Once when he was returning from Mookambika nearing this place he felt some subtle power blocking his path and he knew it was a good power .

He was disturbed that he found it difficult to decipher the spiritual presence and was intrigued about this .

He realised that EGO creeping into his mind made hi fail to recognise divine powers .

He with his yogic powers shed all ego became as innocent as a child then hecould clearly feel presence of Devi and lord Siva there and found a hole in the ground from where the force came .

He built a temple there .

Here Devi is in three forms at three times of the day .

Vidya devi or learning Godess 

(Saraswathi )in mornings 

Vana Durga in Thwaritha Devi blessing devotees with health , domestic harmony, and early marriage ,

And in evening as Aadhi durga  or mooladurga or Lakshmi Godess of wealth .

Here there is no idol but just a presence .

Kadampuzha is from 

Kadan ambhu eitha uzha ie kadan or forest man 

Ambhu is arrow

Uzha place

ie place where kadan the forest dweller aimedhis arrow at .

Also from kaatile Anbin Urava ie place where love spouts inside forest .

Puzha is river but unfortunately there is no river in these areas hence the above two explanations seem possible

Neduva pisharyikkal

 

Parappanangadi is my maternal native village .

Its situated in Malappuram Dt .

Near our Grandparents house Thekkepat Kovilakam which no longer exists now  is Neduva  Pisharikkiyyil Temple .

Its about 500 years old ,a Bhagawathi (Durga ) temple with mookambika as deity .

In 1970 the local Parappanad Raja whose family owned the temple handed it over to a local commitee of Devotees who still manage it so efficiently .

Thankfully the Goverment hasnt put its filthy hands on it through the Dewaswom .

My stay in my ancestral vilage was mainly during my school summer holidays .

The temples deity we knew was our family deity and we prayed to her on every important occasion .

It was routine for most ladies specially older women to visit temple both morning and evening .

For evening deeparadhana most young girls women and men of all ages came here most of the days .

The temple was resplendent with lights .

I remember my grandmother would never miss her twice daily visits ,on way back she would give us the very tasty prasad called Thrimadhuram which was Jaggery Coconut honey Ghee Sugar granules and banana given on a very ecological jackfruit tree leaf .

Navarathri was the main festival in this temple .

There will be plenty of programmes like traditional drum ensembles ,temple dances, story telling ,classical music .etc .

Every day the expenses would be borne by one family of the area and usually on the  penultimate day on Mahanawami it fell on our family the Valliyil family .

Family members would try to visit temple on that day to attend the pujas a sort of reunion  as they met family and friends .

Those who could not come would  send thier share as offerings and pujas from wherever they are .

My mother would buy silk cloth  get it stiched and send it by parcel for navarathri every year .

My sister does it these days .

These days its easier by online transactions to temple commitee .

I remember my mother used to keep special cash offerings during any domestic crisis to be given during next visit to the temple in the strong faith the Godess will give solutions .

Those days all  people may not have great spiritual knowledge or mantra tribulations but posessed simple direct and  implicit faith .

Most of my summer holidays were spent playing in or around the temple 

Amongst my closest friends in Parappanangadi other than my cousins were the sons of the temple priest who was a Tulu brahmin from Mangalore side who was called  imbraasan  .

His son too would become the temple priest later 

For years we did see our old imbrasaan who in his typical style of talking would ask all about us ,as he had seen me playing as a small boy .

The temple had a lovely pond where most of parappanangadi would have had thier bath ,most children learned swimming and diving into it and during monsoon it would fill to the brim and overflow .

During summer when water level was low the commitee would decide for annual cleaning ,a big community affair where young men would stand in the mud plunging in buckets to remove them and pour on sides .

They would catch big fishes with bare hands as they swished in the muds .

It would be smoked with tapioca and black coffee in the fields after thier exhausting work deep into the night .

The monsoon would soon fill the pond with clear water, full of fishes again .

The two big banyan trees not only gave shade in days, in the evenings it was a meeting place for elders and middle aged men  who would discuss global events and walk off shining thier long Dubai torches brought as a gift by some relative or thier sons or son in laws ,of course they had an umbrella too .

Late into the night youngsters would laugh  stealing a smoke and thier laughter could be heard in the dark quiet nights of a village .

Some would even sleep off in the breeze .

Electricity came in the late seventies I think till then it was oil lamps and petromaxes and glow of lamps in temple .

The rains would beat hard on its roofs as circumambulating lasses gave stolen glances at thier beloved around .

This year as it was under strict Covid restrictions no festivities were planned ,but temple is open with all precautions to be taken .

So with masks and social distancing we visited the temple today evening, lit lamps walked around, prayed, saw the temple tank and returned .

Day of nostalgic spirituality .

 #devitemple #neduvapisharikiyiltemple #keralatemples #devitemple

Houses lived

 Houses lived and living 

During childhood we lived in a rented house in busy Mylapore in Madras .

It had one floor and a terrace .

Childhood memories and those of my father who passed away when i was ten years are filled in this house .

We all lived those days as a big family with every neighbour knowing each other reaching out in need and taking part in festivals and events as one big family.

Even after our dad left us neighbouring uncle used to ask me about my studies and nod happily whenever he saw me reading books 

Most weddings of nearby houses we celebrated as our own .

We stayed with them during those times .

That kind of affection was gone forever once we moved to our own house in Kilpauk built by my dad when he was alive .

It was a bigger house with lot of space for a garden but my mother alone was keen i.was never good in that .

During my college days and early married life we lived in Kilpauk till we moved to Cochin .

For one year we stayed in mattancherry in hospital quarters then moved to a rented house in palluruthy till we built one house cum clinic on the main road .

This was where our Sruthi and Shyam lived thier childhood and Shilpa left us too .

It had enough space and lot of trees mango coconut teak and jackfruit .

After we moved abroad and children flew to different countries we preferred a cosy apartment on return hence sold house to a known doctor couple friends .

In UAE initially i was in hotel Hilton then in a villa then in an apartment later into a massive villa .

In Brunei we lived for 6 years in a very lovely bungalow with lawn and potted flowers .

Now back to our apartment in Thripunithura ideal for a relaxed phase of life .

Mount Kailas

 Mount Kailas 

Certain places in this world have a mystique which cannot be denied.

Theres something in the air where positivity crackles like static and bounces off you .

One gets a feeling of fullness in inner sanctorums of our worshipping places , temples ,churches ,mosques , and synagogues .

It may be only a thought by our preconception of holiness ,as its just brick and mortar, sculptures , idols or sacred books or empty spaces, but for the man whose mind is open and receptive ,such places do give a very unearthly happy feel .

After leaving Yama Dwar the rightly named opening 12 km away from Draschen the last town with civilisation,in deep Tibet under peoples republic of China we had trundled alongside the granite countenance of the great mountain in our horses with tinkling bells and hooded horsemen trading and shouted orders to thier snorting ponies and hairy yaks .

The path was neither  very narrow nor very steep as it was in the Tibetian plateau about 14000 to 16000 feet above sea level .

There were yatris who were walking at tgeir pace ,Tibetians prostrating every step to sacred Kailas ,they would take months to complete the Parikrama .

The air was thin and the gentle rains settled on my cold face .

The pony went up a bunch of rocks descended into a cold stream or into a muddy stretch .

My Tibetian horseman had consistently ignored my multi languaged pleas to get me my raincoat from my bag he was carrying .

It was getting colder as my felt blue coat got wetter by the minute and it wasnt meant to get wet .

The horseman either didnt understand my fevered requests or felt about me as  let the sod get wet .

Either way I resigned myself to wetness hardly conducive to spiritual bliss .

The mountain appeared so close to one though it was around 5 to 10 km away .

One just saw a granite wall stretching up and not the profile seen from far .

At times it disappeaerd too .

The inner kailas parikrama was literally on its foot more tougher.one needed to foot it as ponies or horses cannot go up and down those massive boulders.

It was called Kinnar Kailas circuit .

Mostly youngsters trained in mountain trekking attempted it .

Definitely not for the faint hearted .

But i was stupefied at the devotion of hardy Tibetian pilgrims as they painstakingly prostrated fully to the mountain getting up and prostrating again the next step over sharp stones wet mud or flowing icy streams .

It would take them a month to complete the circumambulation .

Strangely no man had ever climbed to the peak of Mount Kailas though several attempts by British later by the Chinese were made to get a man to the top another fact adding to the mystique .

That evening I shivered with cold in the north face of Kailas in Dera pukh .

It was etheral to stand facing the dark hulk silhoutte of the mountain in the inky black darknessin icy cold .

It was like divinity embraced you into nirvanic nothingness.

one could stand hypnotised for ages looking at the stark face of the megolith rising upto the heavens .

I decided I wouldnt go up the Dolma pass at 19000 feet the next day which was  the most toughest day of parikrama 

One needed to go by foot to the passaheight of 20000 feet where jets flew ,

the air rareand the climb strenous .

it was a no return place as rescue at that height with no roads would be cumbersome .

 The Dolma passitself I was told by tgose who were brave enough to complete the parikrama stretched as an endless boulder strewn cold pass with fluttering prayer flags and a deeply placed turqoise lake the Gowrikund 

the Dolma pass itself would decend steeply to other side and  would be completed by end of day .

There was a choice one could still make to return to Dharchen from Derapuk avoiding the Dolma pass parikrama continuity and back same way on horse to hot water baths and western closets in its reasonably luxury hotel in Drachen 

to others irlt was to trudge up hardy steep paths to reach thin rarefied air up the exotic Dolma pass with the Gowrikund on one side and later descend in a back breaking steep descent all of which would take 12 to 16 hours of difficulties .

I took the easy way out .

I returned back to Drachen and creature comforts

Nirvana could wait .

But the view of Kailas in the morning sun glowing like burnished copper was worth more than anything in this world from Derapuk .

The horses of yatris ready to go up Dolma pass was lined up and anxious faces peered from the pile of woolen to face the toughest day in Parikrama .

They would climb up the pass descend to Zitulpukh and next day would be back in Drachen effectively completing the Kailas Parikrama .

Photo story 4

 An attempt  on fiction 

Time for the Mojito

It was a cold Austrian morning 

 The metro in Vienna city was reasonably full ,there was a man with a mystique air quietly gazing at the passengers with eyes hidden under his dark snooppers ,ears alert for any attack ,the  RAW look of an agent doing his days work .

The cold touch of his Beretta 9000 tickled his waist as he slightly shifted in his seat .

It was time to get down

 he had to move with the quickness he was trained with and the agility he was known for.

He could see the golf capped suspect at the far end nudging his neighbour in time to jump off .

He wondered if he was alert of his being chased .

He had a suspicion he did 

Another professional 

Thier world existed on awareness

It made the difference in survival 

To know and to act .

He went through his likely moves   in precision like a pre rocket launch check list .

Studied nuances in nanoseconds .

Time was essential and his moves needed perfection  but wasnt that his strength .

With the power of a wild cat he suddenly lunged ahead ,jumped out of the still moving train , and sprung at the man

 all in a fraction of a second 

A moment that froze in time like a video paused for the sponsor .

The golf cap swiveled at him, to attack him with his steel case ,but the Beretta was faster and a trickle of blood on the mans forehead was staining the platform ,ISI lost a good man today .

By then our man lost himself into the crowds of the city and vanished without a trace .

The police sirens mingled with the thud of the underground .

Another job well done

Somewhere in New Delhi another hooded eye in a desk nodded and grunted mmmm

Well done into his mobile .

Time for the Mojito😁

Cheers

Seagull hotel

 

In good old days of pre covid 

Seagull is a quaint restaurant in Fort Cochin which has existed in the spot since the time we came to Cochin in the late eighties .

Its still the same old worldish placevbut now also a Beer Wine place

Since it was saturday it was crowded but we did manage to get a bayside table .

The view was the best with a well lit oil tanker berthed opposite the shimmering backwaters and sundry boats and a couple of navy frigates sailing by .

It was dark  to see sea gulls but they should be around too .

Lot of youngsters flocked to the place the beer bringing them in droves I think and on a distant table was a quiet old gentleman siping his draught slowly, and by the time we left he had finished four without batting an eyelid !

We had gone only for food as I am not particular on beer much ,maybe a cocktail or a frozen vodka .

We did have a huge chembilli polichathu fish which was very tasty .

Its masalas were well melded as it sat in its green canopy of a plantain leaf (the place wasnt lit well so the photo wasnt good )the flesh soft white with not much thorns to worry about.

The parotta was huge ,tomatoe fry crunchy french fries wasnt bad and the lime juice strangely for kerala cold 😁

Think a day other than saturday would have been better .

I was thinking of quayside in Diamond harbour Sydney .

Somehow there was a similarity in the long bay with ships gliding close to you and the smell of salty sea .

Imagine what Fort Cochin would be if it was owned by any other country than ours .

The place would be a throbbing pub restaurant museum shopping tourist center unlike the sad ill lit pot holed roads and the occasional restsurant filled to its gills broken pavements dark alleys and unkempt gardens .😢

With crores going waste the corporation of Cochin continues to exist with its catfights and swindle

Disgusting .

It was a fine evening 

Something different but we walked out feeling kerala is a garland but given to monkeys

Indian masala dosa code

IPC no IDC..Indian Dosa Code 

To me ordering breakfast in a vegetarian hotel has never been a big deal for my choices are written in stone .

My family orders for me if I am still parking and tell the waiter..

.the strong coffee should come along with the dosa ...neither before nor after !

 and ..please make it piping hot ....!!

The tons of masala dosas that would have contributed to the lard deposited in my body have done their bit to give me a smile for the day ,a small prize one pays for a big gift .

Good masala dosas dear friends are never dry nor dripping with oil .

They are just between

They are golden brown with a promising middle .

The edges to me should never be paper thin nor carpenter hard .

They need to be as  slim as Nayantharaas waist

The filler potatoe masala should be blended smooth with the right flavours and a tinge of spiciness being never to trip over the crevasse

It should rather sit on the precipe but never falling to doom .

The onions should be transcluent with a bitiness but no charring mind you .

The potatoe should never ever be undercooked a bit overcooked is acceptable under WHO standards for those who dont know i meant 

World Hari Ordinances  ,not what you thought please .

The ghee from dosa should be smelt before tasted .

It should waft gently into our nostrils and stimulate the olfactory bulbs waking up the  masala dosa centers in the brain  

iam sure some  have them like I do 

Its all karmabala

The masala dosa center in the brain is 

situated between Amygdala and Hippocampus on the right side and lights up in a PET scan when one tastes a good masala dosa !

Yes it does .

Now the smell 

Like a good wine the smell of a MD needs to be  ambrosia nothing less .

One needs very sensitive olfactory masala dosa receptors which again isnt poseesed by all .

and then comes the Taste 

When  a healthy piece of dosa with a delectable masala wrapped in it both  like lovers on a vacation it then is said to give  a million sun bursts at the first succulent bite ..

Like a nuclear flash

The chutneys are always the side actors and can never replace the hero dosa and heroine masala .

But they are vital 

The coconut needs to be fresh and the green chilly pieces taut .

The sambhar needs succulent vegetable pieces with the tanginess of a first rain of the monsoon .

My Vada too needs to be in the right place to

 it cant be cold ,

Even mentioning a cold vada is unadulterated blasphemy  leave alone serving it 

Vadas should be warm ,with crusted exteriors and soft insides just like all good people are .

Period

It cant be oily messy or gooey 

It has to be dry but never wet .

And no vada is one without a dimple not in its cheek but its middle 

No messing with vada holes please .

The best chutney to go with uzzhunu vada is the fresh coconut dry chutney not the watery liquid one .

Now to the  Coffee

 to me preferably south indian  filter coffee

Preferably in brass glass please 

Leo kaapi mattum thaan maami !!

Narasus koode ok thaan 

Sorry at times go into my Madraas past 

 But I can settle for a Bru or a Sunrise if well made .

Milk undiluted with enough coffee powder with just a spoon of sugar hot and scalding is my coffee

Any lesser version i frown upon 

NOT ALLOWED 

So thats it

Its always better to tell ones choices

Never know where my next masala dosa is from 😁

Please follow criterions .

Dubai

 

Dubai the El Dorado of Gulf malayalees will forever remain my most favourite city .

Its a story of a fairy tale land springing forth out of dry hot desert by the will of its founders .

Its an inspiration like nothing else of how a country can grow woth all thats needed is good leaders who love it .

Sheikh Mohammed and Sheik Rashid of the Maktoum dynasty owning the Emirate of Dubai are to me two men who are the object of my admiration and adulation .

 I worked in Al Ain a part of Abu Dhabi emirate the biggest in UAE a country united by another great leader Sheikh Zayed .

It was his dream which made the nation .

The seven Emirates which I had the fortune of touring extensively is a testimony of the message left by the great leader Sheik Zayed in being united but maintaining thier own individuality mutually respecting and helping the other .

The country has given life to millions all over the world who found solace in its shores for livelihood and made their life much better than it was .

Its the love and hard work of these migrants for the culture the tolerance the oppurtunity available in the country and the chances given to them that made it what it is .

In this country to me Dubai stands out as a beacon of hope of leadership of ideas and of sincerity .

Without all this no country can transform itself into what Dubai has becomein decades .

I lived when the mega chsnges happened like construction of the talest building in the world the metro the Jumeirah islands and the msking of Dubai into amodern behemoth a manhattan rising out of desert sands 

Though it went through bad economic times it bounced back like the proverbial phoenix that rises from its ashes .

It all started when a busy small time port dealing in dungaree shiping to nearby countries from.its dhows and in home doved pearls and gold trade got a leader who gazed at the stars and wanted notbing but tge best for his nation .

When advisors reminded him of his country having no oil like its neighbours he put them off telling them we have trade and we are the best .

The archetypical hard nosed Arab who can bargain for the best was symbolic of the Dubai enterpreuner with his sharp nose and falcon demanour .

Western advisors told Shiek Rasheed that he needed a Trade centre to engine his progress

Yes we shall build one he said and he did but 25 km into the empty hot sand dunes of the desert his small town was surrounded with .

Many were aghast and asked him why he was building a trade center so far away from tge then Dubai .

The answer of Sheikh Rasheed should be part of MBA programmes tge world over on the positivity of any leader .

He said for the question

Why is it so far from the city

MY CITY WILL GROW TO IT .

Look at his foresight 

Its a lesson for every leader

And Dubai did much much better than Sheikh Rasheeds dreams then for the Eorld Trade center in Sheikh zayed road is today the beggining of modern Dubai stretching almost all the way to Abu Dhabi .

It was Shiekh Mohammed the illustrious great leader who made the magic of Dubai .

He wanted nothing but the best and he worked hard inspiring his countrymen and thousands of other country men who madd his country their own for its making them live and thrive .

And thus the fairy tale of Dubai the el dorado gtewfrom its small dusty desert harbour into a multi behemoth metropolitian maginificience .

He built the tallest the best in everything .

He faced losses downfalls but with his leadership brought rebirths amazing examples to the world itself .

I love Dubai and stayed many days in its finest 

I love the freddom the neatness the very spirit of the city

Its just right up my alley 

I

 I love the older parts of Dubai too 

Deira waterfront with its busy wharfs.

 Crowded with smallers dungarees and ships laden with cargo bound to Iran Iraq and other  Arab countries etc .

The smell the clamour the dust all takes you back in history when tired dust laden caravans came to the harbour to give and take goods.

The mirage is broken as one gazes at the multistories looming behind in shining facades.

The gold souk with its glittering fantasies the spice markets with its exotic temptations the dinghies that lap one across the Dubai creek to Bur Dubai the sea birds that fly past in grace its oriental exotic Fashionable as Dubai is ..

The Bollywood like Burr dubai has the essence of a little India with its saravana bhavans serving yummy masala dosas its temple giving spiritual solace its covered market in waterfront selling Dubais history..

My memories of Dubai in pictures  .