Can he be the same ever again?

Stunning the players and the world's population of cricket lovers, Phillip Hughes has passed into the mist of time. He was hit by a ball on the back of his head that didn't have the protective cover of his playing helmet during a domestic cricket match in Sydney, two days ago.

Left handed batsman Phillip Hughes, an Australian Test and One Day International player aged 25 years - three days short of his 26th birthday - was hit by a rising ball from Sean Abbot, all of 22 years and a right handed all rounder trying to find a place in his national eleven. The event was the 'Sheffield Shield game'.

Despite corrective surgery, Hughes never regained consciousness during his fight for life while at the hospital. When his end was announced by the hospital, the grief was overwhelming with his fellow players uncontrollable in their display of emotions.

RIP, Phillip Hughes. My prayers and tears for a fighter on the cricket field!

And imagine the plight of young Sean Abbot. Can he be the same ever again? A part of his personality will always blame him for the untimely end of a promising player and colleague. By this time, he must have cursed himself a thousand times or even more for having bowled that rising ball and would be wishing to have another chance to do otherwise so as to erase the bad dream, once and for all!

Was he in the wrong? I don't think so. This is a part of the game and the unfortunate incident was a freak accident! Period!!

He deserves care - from everyone - to be able to maintain his sanity.


Tailpiece.

While mourning the loss of a loved one, the game of cricket will continue. Short balls will be balled and the odd rising ball will continue to intimidate the batsmen. It's all part of the game!  

His last hurrah?

I'd written in my musings of 22 Oct about Dharmettan's travails. He suffers from 'Lymphosarcoma of the intestine' - the same ailment that Rajesh Khanna suffers from in the Hindi movie, 'Anand'! He'd been taken to the Thrissur Medical College Hospital towards end October, where he was put through a battery of tests. Chiding his wife, Sathiamma, for bringing in the patient so very late, the doctor had estimated another two months of life for him(A fact that I disagree with, very strongly, as no doctor - however good he/she might be in his/her profession - can pronounce the actual time of death of his/her patient!)

Their only daughter, Archana, was scheduled to be married on 30 Jan '15 but this was advanced keeping in view of the medical report.

The wedding had taken place today in a nearby hall and we'd gone to attend the function. After wishing the newlyweds, we'd spent some time with Dharmettan who seemed to be quite detached from the entire set of proceedings and sported a worried look(Or was it all my imagination?). He seemed to have been totally exhausted after performing the fatherly duty of placing his daughter's hand in Suraj's, his son-in-law. While persuading him to join us for the feast, he declined, citing a lack of appetite as he'd a bowl of broth, made of broken wheat, prior to leaving their house.

Was his lack of enthusiasm because of the awareness of what was coming at him? Or was it the pain of a father who realises that his li'l girl would never be his from now on?

               *                                                *                                                  *

Today also happens to be the sixth anniversary of the dreaded terror attacks on Bombay. The sixty hours of fear, lurking danger and the heroic acts of both, security personnel and the ordinary citizens who'd lent their support to the needy, shall remain in our psyche for the years to come.

My prayers and salute to the victims and the heroes.


Tailpiece.

God, I hope you remember my request of wanting to have Dharmettan around us till next Diwali, at least? Suraj and Archana, here's us wishing you a long and happy married life with all that you wish for!

Back home!

We reached Ettumanoor, the start point, around a quarter past midnight. After the farewells, I'd accompanied my cousin, Kannan and his family, who're Ernakulam bound, in the same bus with the understanding that Shaji, the 'saarthi', would arrange an auto rickshaw from Chottanikkara but since there weren't any he'd extended the bus' trip to Thrippoonithura - damn sweet of him!

We reached my cousin's flat after about an hour and hit the sack, soon after, by around 0130h. Alarm was set for an early morning departure for Guruvayur and accordingly, I could board the train by a quarter past six and reached the temple town by a half past eight. And then 'terror' struck!

People who'd disembarked from the train were trying to board the first auto rickshaw that came their way and as I was getting out of the railway station, I was privy to a strange sight. Many of the ricks were refusing the passengers after being told of the intended destinations. Puzzled, I, too, had joined the queue and did not make haste as I had no deadline to meet. And then came the first, the driver of which, didn't even have the courtesy of telling me as to why he was refusing to take me along as he drove away. Then came the second and even a third, which buzzed past in the same brusque manner!

I was slowly getting irritated and angry. In fact, to the third guy, who'd driven past, I'd asked the reason for his refusal to take me along and he didn't even bother to answer - so much about people friendly utility services! And what baffles me is the abrasive arrogance exhibited by the guys who come from very poor background. Is it a show of their protest against one's ability to hire them? After a wait, finally, a rick had come to a stop in front of me. Mohan his name was and as I was getting off at my house, I asked him the reasons for my unpleasant experience.

With an apologetic smile, he said that this was a daily feature when the rick drivers vied with each other to 'ensnare' the passengers who're headed for longer distances and to my mind that was only possible if a traveller opted to go to the farthest edge or to a nearby town through Guruvayur, giving the temple town the skip! A mad thing to do in the circumstances!!

If this is not terrorism, what is?



Tailpiece.

Mohan added that he never resorted to such meanness and latched on to any trip that came his way, short or long, as his customers were important to him. Nice words, but something needs to be done to break the 'mafia behaviour' of the auto rickshaw drivers!   

At land's edge on my birthday!

The day had started at four in the morning and by 5 o'clock, we're at the bathing ghat. Dad's ashes, along with my grand aunt's and another elderly lady's of the neighbourhood were immersed in the waters of the Bay of Bengal around 10 minutes past 5. A sizeable crowd had gathered up, already, at the waterfront and with the winds being strong, the waves lapping against the shore were large and insistent. The religious ceremony - post immersions - were gone through and we're back at our hotel, much before 7 AM.

After a quick wash and change, a breakfast of steaming hot idlis washed down with filtered coffee and by a half past 7, we're off to Dhanushkodi - another 22 kms, further south - to see the much talked about remnants of a worthy past that was uprooted by the savages of the fierce cyclone of '64. We'd gone in two, four-wheel-drive smaller yet, sturdy vehicles towards the land's edge. And precisely, around a quarter past 9, we're at the land's edge with our guide showing us a greenish-brown patch, stretching towards in a south eastern direction into the sea, as the famous 'Ram sethu' - a bridge purportedly made with huge stones and boulders by the great monkey warriors of Lord Rama - which had enabled him to take his forces into Lanka, the land of the 'asura' king, Ravana and the rest, as they say, is history!

The remnants of the old railway station, the church, the post office and a small cluster of buildings were the mute and humbled spectators of nature's fury on that fateful day of 23 Dec '64. Standing at the land's edge, where once upon a time in the recent past was a township that was bustling with people and their connected activities, I was overwhelmed by the sights and had kept asking myself as to whether my presence, at Dhanushkodi, on my birthday had any significance at all?

The return.

And by about a half past 10, we're headed back home in the Volvo. A short and sweet trip, indeed!

Two kms north of Dhanushkodi, was the temple of 'Kodanda Ramar'. It was the venue of the anointment of Vibheeshana, as the king of Lanka, by Lord Rama after the slaying of Ravana. Vibheeshana was the saner of the siblings, who'd warned his brother, Ravana, that his act of kidnapping Sita was a mistake and that he should send her back forthwith, for which he was thrown into prison! We'd visited the spot before heading back home!!


Tailpiece.

My cellphone had some problem about its coverage during our entire stay at Rameshwaram and therefore, I was not contactable for quite a while during the day. However, my friends and relatives were insistent about wishing me and with that in mind, they had kept on at it till they could speak to me in person much later, during the day! Never did I feel more wanted!! Thanks guys, you really made my day!!!   

Off to Rameswaram.

We'd kicked off from Ettumanoor at a half past 4, this morning and the route taken was the Kottayam-Kumaly highway. Traffic was really sparse(being a Sunday, I guess) and the road was superb all through. Today, also, happens to be my birthday as per the Malayalam calendar and hence, the wishes kept trickling from my family, back home.

The weather was nice and the Volvo bus that has been hired for the purpose was comfortable and roomy. We're 28 in all and the stoppages for meals and beverages were adequately timed and appropriate. But despite the flawless run, we could reach Rameswaram only by a half past 4 in the evening. As we hit the temple town while crossing the Pamban Bridge, I could wistfully remember the numerous anchorings done in the area, while commanding my ship during the Sri Lanka operations, just a nautical mile away seaward.

Our plans to hit the land's edge at Dhanushkodi, on arrival, had to be shelved for the 'morrow as we'd arrived late.

Instead, we went to pay obeisance to Lord Rama at the famous temple - an architectural treat that is famed for its over 1,200 artistic and brightly painted pillar-supported-corridor all around. The temple was built between the twelfth and nineteen centuries. Mythology states that Lord Rama had worshipped Lord Siva before embarking on his famous battle with King Ravana of Lanka, to free his wife, Sita, from captivity.

The highlight of our visit, this evening, was the ritual of 22 baths that a few among us had embarked upon before reaching the sanctum santorum. The amazing characteristics about the twenty two springs - not far from each other, within the temple's sprawling premises of 16 acres and despite their proximity to the sea - are the following:-

        (a) has no hint of salinity whatsoever
        (b) each spring maintains a distinct, yet different flavour from the other
        (c) the guide pours the water on you, drawing from each of the wells housing the springs
             with the least amount of fuss!
        (d) and finally, it's the responsibility of each individual to towel himself/herself dry and
              ensure that the clothes don't drip by wringing them well before presenting themselves
              to the deity!

A quaint, yet unique experience! After an evening snack soon after, our group had celebrated my birthday, in style, by having a cake cut. Damn sweet of them and I must say that I was humbled!!


Tailpiece.

I'd lost my pair of slippers at the temple but my aunt had a perfect justification for the mishap. To lose a personal belonging during a visit to the temple indicates that one has been blessed and is a harbinger of better things - perhaps, my having to buy a new pair is what it boils down to!
         


              

In remembrance!

It was an early morning but there were a lot of things lined up to do for the day. After going through the morning chores, we'd set off for Ettumanoor for the morning ceremony with my grand aunt's first remembrance day. Anish was the 'saarthi' who'd ensured that we're at the venue well in time.

The 'master of the ceremony' guided us through the lengthy yet orderly procedure that lasted over two hours and we're seventeen of us in attendance. Going through the maze of rituals, the thought that struck me was the manner in which time had flown - one year had passed quietly by. The only difference was that the two seater sofa - facing the entrance of the house on which my grand aunt used to sit and receive her visitors - was empty with a fresh set of linen spread over it.

Soon it was lunchtime and dispersal. My sister, Rema, was seen off at the bus stand on the reciprocal route which quite coincidentally, left at 1400h while two of my cousins, headed for Thiruvananthapuram were seen off at the railway station. The assembly of people had dispersed no sooner than it had assembled, so it seemed!

The evening darshan of the 'Ettumanoorappan' was accomplished despite a packed crowd, enhanced these days, by the influx of the pilgrims headed for Sabarimala. A boisterous supper followed by an early night, as the departure for Rameswaram is slated tomorrow morning at 4. But sleep was hard to come by!


Tailpiece.

The family had not met for a long time and today's meeting of quite of a few of us helped us to reconnect!  

A flawless rendezvous!

I was to meet my sister coming with mud, removed from my dad's cremation point and enclosed in an earthenware jar for immersion at Rameswaram. His mortal remains have already been immersed at the Papanaasam beach of Varkala earlier, in Jan '12.

Then, why am I doing this, you might rightly ask. It was because mom had expressed a sentiment. I'm to accompany my relations at Ettumanoor for the immersion of my great aunt's ashes at Rameswaram on 23 Nov. She wanted a part of dad also to mingle in the same waters and was able to prevail upon me despite my initial hesitation. I'd tried to reason it out with her but seeing her steadfastness and the insistence, I couldn't bring myself to break her heart!

My sister, during a visit to my dad's place last weekend, had collected the same and was coming from Palakkad to hand it over to me. We'd decided to make use of the state road transport corporation for the purpose. Accordingly, two hours after she'd left Palakkad, I was able to board the same bus at Thrissur and proceed to Ettumanoor together. We reached my uncle's place by 1945 hrs.

Within an hour after our arrival, our relations from Thiruvananthapuram had also trooped in and it was time to exchange notes.


Tailpiece.

Mom and Lekha have decided to stay back at 'The Quarterdeck' as they'd recused themselves from the Rameswaram jaunt because of prohibitive distances to be covered on foot!