R. Srinivasan: A Profile (Part 4)

Please see Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 of this profile of my great-grandfather.

PART 4 

Prof. R. Srinivasan

(1887-1975)

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Promoter of Music

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Father was a Harikatha performer also. He had a close friend, named Rangu, I think, who used to sing quite well and Father used to say that he was his "first guru." Once, these two had attended a kathakalakshepam by someone in Srirangam. The performer committed some mistake and the boys had the audacity to laugh. The performer became very angry and retorted: "how dare you laugh? You would know the difficulty if you took the 'chipla' in your hands!" Father took this as a challenge and promised to do a Harikatha kalakshepam in the same place in a month's time. And he did! His friend gave him vocal support. This was the beginning. He was then 16 years old. After settling down in Tiruvanantapuram, he used to perform Harikatha regularly, especially during the Onam celebrations. He once performed Nandan Charitram for three days.

Father felt that Harikathas like Seetha Kalyanam, Rukmini Kalyanam, and Nandan Chritram were being repeated again and again. He also wanted to establish another point through his Harikathas, since some persons said that god showing himself to humans and working miracles all happened ages ago and only in stories and they were no longer relevant. Father believed that god is ever bestowing his blessings on his true bhaktas, So he was on the lookout for stories which would prove this. He selected some seven stories, developed them, composed songs for them and presented them in kathakalshepams. These were authentic stories which happened within the last 500 years.

• Story 1: "Senan" was Akbar's barber. Lord Krishna gave him darsan. And through him, to Akbar also.
• Story 2: Tulukka Nachiyar. She was a Muslim princess. When the Muslims invaded the area around Srirangam, there was an idol of Lord Ranganatha among their booty. Her nanny, a Hindu woman, told her many wonderful stories about the Lord. The princess was enamoured and woudl always play with this idol. When she attained marriageable age, her father arranged her wedding. But the princess announced that she was already wedded to Lord Ranganatha and would not marry anyone else. The father, taking this to be a mere child's prattle, went ahead with his preparations. At this, the princess, along with her nanny, left for Srirangam on horseback without anyone's knowledge. At the temple, she fell at the Lord's feet, saying, "I'm surrenderign myself to you, do what you will with me." And she became one with Him. [As evidence of this marriage, three practices associated with Muslims are in vogue at the temple even today. During abhisheka, a lungi is tied to the Moolavar [principal deity). The first neiveidyam in the morning is maida roti and butter. During the shodasopachara, when paan or betel leaf is offered to the Lord, the lime paste is applied on the smooth side as Muslims do, and not on the rough side, as done by the Hindus. Tulukka Nachiyar's sannidhi is in the first prakara, close to the main sanctum sanctorum, in precedence over the other consorts. In this first prakara, all the lamps are lit with ghee and not oil.]
• Story 3: The Madurantakm Miracle. There is a temple for Seeta Devi near Madurantakam, not too far from Madras. It was in a dilapidated condition. For Lionel Place, the Collector of Chengalpettu who had seen churches of great splendour in his native England, this temple appeared most unimpressive. An elderly man told him, "This is Seeta Devi's temple, she is a giver of boons." When the Colonel asked him if she would grant even his wish, the old man answered, "She will indeed, if you ask with true faith." The Colonel said that if she could guard the lake from bursting during the monsoon, he would himself renovate the temple. When the monsoon arrived and with it the floods, he went and stood in person to check the bund, when Rama and Lakshmana gave him darsan. And the bund did not break. The lake was full to the brim, but did not overflow. So, to fulfill his promise, he rebuilt the temple out of his own money. One can see on the foundation stone even today, the following inscription: "Col. Lionel Place's dharmam." Prof. Srinivasan once performed this story in the temple precincts itself. And he composed a song in English for his story.
• Story 4: At the Tirukoil in Kadirgamam in Sri Lanka (Subramania Swamy temple), a mother-daughter duo were doing the daily cleaning of the temple premises, getting flowers, etc. After the mother died, the girl continued this kainkaryam (service). She spent all her life there, and when she became very old, the trustees felt she should be given a pension and sent away and a new servant appointed. When she was informed of this, she could not bear that she would not be allowed to the work anymore. She appealed to the Lord: "I've been serving you since childhood. All I want is to serve you till I die. Is that too much to ask?" So crying, she fell unconscious at the Lord's feet. Next morning when she woke up, a miracle had taken place! She had regained the physical form of a 10-year old. She looked as she had when she first came to work at the temple. After which, of course, there was no question of retiring her due to old age, and she continued to serve her Lord. This incident was taken from a news item from a Ceylon newspaper, a cutting of which was sent to Father by a friend of his.
• Story 5: This was based on Gopalankutty's story in the Malayalam Standard II text book. A boy, who was scared to take a forest path on the way to school, was advised by his mother to call to his elder brother Gopalan, who would accompany him and guard him. In all innocence, the boy called out to Gopalan and Lord Krishna in the guise of a shepherd accompanied him in the forest path. This continued daily. And finally, Krishna appeared before his unbelieving parents too and blessed them!
• Story 6: There is a Sakshi Gopalan temple in Cuttack. A guru promised his daughter's hand in marriage to his disciple, with the Lord as their witness. Then the guru left on a long pilgrimage. On his return, the disciple reminded him of the promise. The guru tried to wriggle out of the promise, pretending not to remember. So the disciple called on god, who was their witness. God appeared in person and gave evidence that such a promise had indeed been made and got the guru's daughter married to the disciple.
• Story 7: This story concerned Sree Raghavendra of Mantralaya. The large tract of land belonging to the temple was lying waste. So the Government wanted to acquire it and develop it for some useful purpose. Governor Monroe went there to inspect the land. When he went to a remote part, a sanyasi appeared before him and said: "This is lying unused now. But in later times, this place will become very famous. So please don't make any change or disturb this land now." Saying this, he disappeared. Monroe alone had seen the vision, not the others who accompanied him and when they tried to look for the sanyasi, they could find no one!

These were the stories that Father developed for his kathakalakshepam. I should mention that he composed some songs in the Hindustani mode for his kalakshepam.

More in Part 5

R. Srinivasan: A Profile (Part 3)

Please see Part 1 and Part 2 of this profile of my great-grandfather.

PART 3
Prof. R. Srinivasan
(1887-1975)
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Patron & Promoter of Music
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The royal family of Travancore held Father in high esteem because of his sangeeta gnanam. He was often asked to assist the palace in arranging musical events.

When 16-year-old Chithira Tirunal ascended the throne, the cultural celebrations for the coronation function were all organised by Father. Kater, when the wedding of Kartigai Tirunal, Chithira Tiruanal's sister, took place over a periopd of seven or eight days, it was Father who organised all the concerts. Earlier, when the Regent Maharani was ruling the State, she presented Father, in recognition of his contributions, with a Veera Sanklai and a gold medal with the face of Chithira Tirunal embossed on it.

Father did a great deal for music and musicians, especially in Tiruvanantapuram. He was a good organiser and arranged performance opportunities for local musicians. He used to conduct an arts festival every year, spanning three or four days, at the Victoria Jubilee Town Hall. Featured in it were local talent as well as 'big' musicians from out of town, of Hindustani and Carnatic styles. Abdul Karim Khan performed one year. I remember he sang Kalaharana melara in Suddha Saveri. Also featured were dramas including English plays.

There was no connection between this arts festival and the temple concerts. It was after musicians had been appointed as Palace vidwans that they performed in the navaratri mandapam in the temple, during navaratri.

I can say that Father was a key figure in popularising music in Tiruvanantapuram. When he first arranged a concert with tickets in an auditorium, people asked: "Who will pay to listen to music?" With that beginning, if music has become so widely prevalent in Tiruvanantapuram, it was Father who was responsible.

On one occasion, the Palace authorities called Father and asked for his ideas to make Swati Tirunal's compositions popular. In Travancore, there were many schools, even in small villages in the interior, and music was a compulsory subject in the curriculum. Father's idea was to start a summer school in the capital, where all the music teachers from these schools would be taught Swati Tirunal's compositions so that they, in turn, teach the songs to the children in their schools. I don't remember the year. The principal of this summer school was Narayanan Kutty Bhagavatar, a violin vidwan. (He along with his two younger brothers -- flutist Padmanabha Iyer and Bhagavateeswaran, who played the mridangam and also the veena -- were known as the Tiruvanantapuram brothers. His daughter is the wife of mridanga chakravarti T.K. Murthy). The summer school was conducted for two years. But it was not successful. There was no follow-up to ascertain the results in the field. The Maharani was not satisfied. It was then that Father suggested that they start a regular school -- the Swati Tirunal Music Academy -- bring a renowned vidwan from outside as the Principal and appoint professors of music as well. The proposal was accepted and implemented by the Government. Harikesanallur Muthiah Bhagavatar came as the first Principal of the Academy at the personal request of Father. There were four professors: K.R. Kumaraswamy, N.V. Narayana Bhagavatar (a disciple of Muthiah Bhagavatar), N.G. Seetharaman (Musiri's disciple), and C.S. Krishna Iyer from Palakkad. After about four years, Muthiah Bhagavatar also worked hard to bring out a book of Swati Tirunal's compositions with notation. But he could not complete the work because he fell ill. Then Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer became the Principal. It was during his tenure that this book was published. Later, additional volumes were brought out. In this way Swati Tuirunal's compositions became popular. It helped a great deal that great musicians assisted in preparing the correct pathantara for the songs.

It was also on Father's suggestion that senior musicians were appointed as palace vidwans, Ariyakudi, Musiri, Semmangudi, Papa Venkataramaiah and Tanjavur Vaidyanatha Iyer were among those who were appointed.

A music festival began to be conducted during the nine days of the Navaratri, in a special place in the the Padmanabhaswamy Temple. Musicians would perform every evening in front of the deity. Swati Tirunal's Navaratri kritis were given prominence -- the particular composition of that day would be the main item -- in the place of ragam-tanam-pallavi. The Maharaja and the Maharani would themselves be present on those occasions. There was a separate enclosure for invitees. As a child, I attended many of these performances, The festival was the idea of the Maharani, a very shrewd and intelligent lady. Whatever suggestions she gave would be such that no one could argue about it.

These Navaratri concerts were another way of propogating Swati Tirunal's songs. Father had a part in organising these programmes also. During the festival period, he also arranged concerts in our own house in which local musicians participated.

All vidwans who visited Tiruvanantapuram would invariably stay in our house. And while staying with us, they sometimes used to give performances in the evening. Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar, Musiri Subrahmania Iyer, among others, have stayed with us and I got the opportunity to move closely with these stalwarts.

All the vidwans used to laugh and joke with us. Rajamanickam Pillai, especially, was very entertaining.

In playing host to the musicians, Father had the full support of my mother. Catering to the needs of all the guests was not an easy task! My mother used to make tinsful of sweets and savouries in preparation for their arrival. Father had given them so much liberty that they would arrive asking: "What have you made specially for us, Manni?" Their timings were erratic , and they themselves would have visitors, and we had to cater to them as well! Of course, we had a cook, but my mother needed immense patience to manage all this very well. For example, Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar preferred to have his dinner after his concert. In those days, concerts used to begin at eight in the evening and end at midnight, and he used to have his dinner at one o'clock in the morning! Such was the supportive role played by my mother, in allowing Father to entertain the musicians and give them the run of our house! Servants also used to be very cooperative in those days, which we cannot expect in today's world.

Father's love of music found expression in many ways. If anyone went by singing, even if it was a beggar, he would call him and give him, food, clothing, etc. One day, a husband-wife 'bairagi' duo came a-singing. Their songs were so good that Father learnt two of then by making the duo sing them three or four times. Not conversant with Hindi, he wrote lyrics in Sanskrit or Tamil to the same tunes.

Later, when we were in Madras, we used to hold bhajan singing sessions every Ekadasi day. Many friends used to attend. Papanasam Sivan too attended a number of these functions.

Father was fond of Hindustani music too. He had gramaphone records of some of the well-known singers of those days. He made me learn two of Bal Gandharva's songs, which were his favourites, and would listen to my singing them often. We didn't know Hindi or Marathi, but I just picked up the words as I heard them and sang, giving importance to the tune. The two songs were Malaa madan basey in Mand and Murthy manta in Bheempalasi. Then whenever I used to sing tukkadas in Mand raga, I used to incorporate the brigas I had learned from Bal Gandharva's songs.

[ continued in Part 4]

R. Srinivasan: A Profile (Part 2)

Please see yesterday's post for Part 1 of this profile of my great-grandfather.

PART 2
Prof. R. Srinivasan
(1887-1975)
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Patron & Promoter of Music
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[from L to R] My grandmother, her father
(Prof. Srinivasan) and her mother

Father was equally, if not more interested in music, as in studies. He did not have any formal training in music from any guru. But purely by his own effort, he acquired a vast knowledge of the subject. During utsavams and processions of deities, great nagaswara vidwans like Semponnarkoil Ramaswamy Pillai used to perform. He would follow a procession till it did the rounds of the four streets and the deity returned to the temple precincts and only then come home to bed. This must have been the main influence, but, of course, he must have had 'poorva janma vasanai' [karmic influence] too, enough to overcome my grandparents' apathy. My grandparents were the kind who would ask: "What is the price of a tola of sangeetam?!!"

Father was a very contented man. He was just not interested in making money, though he earned very well for those days. He had a number of job offers, but took up teaching as Assistant Professor of Mathematics in a college in Tiruvanantapuram. The standard pay was only 100 rupees a month, but the Dewan of Travancore, who personally canvassed Father's services, increased it to 150 rupees specially for him! Father took up the post in 1910, I think. He was known as 'Professor Srinivasan' even after he became Principal, which was the position he held when he retired. He stayed in Tiruvanantapuram till 1948.

In Tiruvanantapuram, all the people -- in college, in the palace, in the Government -- has great respect, love, and affection for Father. There were only seven or eight students in his B.A. Honours class. he would teach them in such a way that they barely noticed the passage of time and were astounded when they realised how much they had learnt! He was also feared and respected as he was a very strict disciplinarian. Even though I am his only child, he used to be very strict with me too. He used to say: "If there had been more children, each one could be different, but you, as an only child, should have all the good qualities."

Father was also an actor. Even in his school days, he was conducting dramas with some of his friends. Though he was himself not conducting such programmes in his Madras days, he used to attend many concerts and dramas there. In fact his uncle was concerned that he was not paying enough attention to his studies. When questioned, he would retort: "You see my marks and then question me." And, as he always stood first, there was not much that anyone could say! The love for drama continued in Tiruvanantapuram. He organised a drama troupe with some of his friends; I think it was called the Amateur Dramatics Club. He would take up any role from beggar to king. He mostly took female roles. He used to wear a sari very gracefully. When he selected saris for my mother, he would consider whether it would be suitable for his female roles too! Sankara Subbier, who later became Justice Sankara Subbier in Tiruvanantapuram, was a very close friend of his. In the drama 'Manohara,' Subbier used to be Padmavati and Father Vasantasena. I have many photos of scenes from his plays and also of his lady-part roles. [See photo on front cover shown in Part 1]

Since Father used to sing well, he also would take roles in which the actor had to sing. In one play, there was a scene in the king's durbar and Father gave a regular kutcheri! In fact, I remember that the scene required a fat bhagavatar and Father tied pillows onto his middle to appear bulky!

Father was connected with various other activities as well. He was very active in the scouts movement and was the Scouts Commissioner for some years. He was also connected with the YMCA, the YWCA, and the Tamil Sangam. He was, too, one of the trustees of the Sanatana Dharma School in Alleppey. He worked a great deal for theosophy too. In those days, many regarded theosophists as non-believers who had no faith in our religious traditions. Father worked towards removing this misconception. He used to explain: "Theo means god; it is not that the theosophists have no faith in god, but they reject superstitions. They keep the essentials and do away with the meaningless rituals." The theosophists' motto is: "There is no religion higher than Truth," and they believed in "universal brotherhood." Father propogated this theosophy all over Kerala. he was also a great admirer and follower of Dr. Annie Besant, whom he knew personally. Every year during the annual conference in Madras, my parents and I used to come to Madras to attend it.

[continued in Part 3]

R. Srinivasan: A Profile (Part 1)

I mentioned my great-grandfather in a previous post. My grandmother had given me a photocopy of a magazine called "Sruti," which bills itself as "India's premier music and dance magazine." It is focused on classical Indian music and the cover story in May 1995 was all about my great-grandfather, Professor R. Srinivasan. Yes, that's him on the cover (if you read the article, you will discover that at the turn of the century, women were not allowed to act on stage and so men had to play women's roles. That's him in some play!). The article is based on an interview with my grandmother (his daughter) and is quite detailed in its profile. As part of my desire to archive and make easily accessible information about my family history, I have transcribed the entire article below exactly as it appeared in the magazine, errors and all. I even checked on the magazine's web site and found the issue is not available to buy or read online. So, at the moment, this seems to fall under the "fair use" guidelines. I'll get the whole thing online in multiple parts (it's quite long). So, without further ado ...

PART 1
Prof. R. Srinivasan

(1887-1975)

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Patron & Promoter of Music

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Prof. R. Srinivasan was a connoisseur, promoter and patron of music and a gracious host to musicians when he was living in Tiruvanantapuram. His daughter Kamala Krishnamurthy, now living in Bombay, recently recalled to Sruti, his multifaceted personality, activities and achievements, in an interview conducted -- and later translated from Tamil -- by GAYATHRI SUNDARESAN. Excerpts:

My father, the late Prof. R. Srinivasan, was a versatile person. He had interest in many different fields. It was usually more than a passing interest. Whatever he took up, he had to do it thoroughly and as perfectly as possible. He was very fond of two dicta, which he would often repeat. One was: "One need not do extraordinary things, but do ordinary things extraordinarily well." The other was: "Trifles make perfection, but perfection is not trifle." He followed these in all that he did.

An example of this would be photography. He was a very good photographer. He started this hobby only in 1938 [when he was 51 years of age], but he did well right from the start. He would not only shoot the pictures but also develop and print them himself. He would do each step himself, beginning with developing upto the framing of the photograph. He had bought all the equipment needed for this -- the chemicals, trays of various sizes to wash the negatives, huge bottles for the chemicals, enlarger, and so on. He used a small room next to the bathroom as a dark room, for much water was needed for the process. He would cover the windows with black cloth and do his work after 7:30 pm. I used to be his assistant.

I remember that he made a set of "smoke pattern" photographs during the Kattigai festival, in which the smoke rising from the lamps lit for the occasion were captured by him on film. He sent them to the Illustrated Weekly of India and received a prize for the same. His subjects varied, and included birds, animals, and flowers. Secenery too. Let me tell you to what extent he went in his mad love for photography! He did not know swimming. He would not even take a 'samudra snanam' [a dip in the ocean] which is considered auspicious. Such a man, in order to capture the Kanyakumari temple at an angle from the sea, went on a catamaran to position himself properly for the shot.

This is how he would do everything, perfectly, not neglecting even a minute detail.

Father was born in Srirangam. He studied in the school there and later in Tiruchi. When he was studying in St. Joseph's College, his teachers concluded that an outstanding student like him should go to Madras where he would have more worthy students to compete with. In Madras, he stayed with his maternal uncle in Triplicane and was given admission in mid-term, considering his high grades. He stood first always, and B.N. Rao [Bengal Narasinga Rao, who later became Sir Bengal and served as a diplomat] would come second. He stood first in the Presidency in M.A. (Mathematics). He got a gold medal and a scholarship to study for the ICS examination. In those days, one had to go to London to take the ICS examination. The parents had to give their consent but my grandfather refused to do so, saying that he could not bear to be separated from his son for such a long time. Father never complained that my grand-father spoiled his future. He would say" "I always wanted to become a teacher. So God made this happen; my father was only an instrument." He also felt that, although he might have acquired name and fame by joining the ICS, he would not have been able to work on music or theosophy.

[to be continued in Part 2]

Great Grandfather Thoughts

One of my more vivid memories of my Great Grandfather (my mom's mom's dad) is the annual holiday greeting cards he used to liberally distribute. I used to read these quotations that were contained in the cards (labeled "Helpful Thoughts."

A scan of one of his cards, probably from the 1960s?

Only recently I realized that (a) many were really thought provoking, and (b) it's amazing how many of these have significantly influenced my beliefs. In fact, even before I found this one copy of the card in my "memory box," I could probably have recited a few of the quotes for you verbatim. Here is a transcribed set of helpful thoughts from one of his cards. I love the cover of the card that includes his theosophical society logo that proclaims "There Is No Religion Higher Than Truth" - I agree completely. My favorite ones are in bolded text.


The sage does not talk, the talented ones talk; and stupid ones argue. (Chinese proverb)

To say the right thing at the right time, keep still most of the time. (J.H. Raper)

The greatest glory consists not in never failing, but in rising every time we fall. (Goldsmith)

Wisdom is knowing what to do next, skill is knowing how to do it, virtue is doing it. (D.S. Gordon)

Genius does what it must, talent does what it can.

The secret of life is not to do what you like, but to like what you do. (Henry Davidoff)

"The greatest saint is not one who does extraordinary things, but one who does ordinary things extraordinarily well." (Dr. A. Maclaren)

Sow an act, and you reap a habit,
Sow a habit, and you reap a character,
Sow a character, and you reap a destiny (J. Locke)

"God will not ask thy race,
Nor will He ask thy birth;
Alone will He demand of thee,
'What hast thou done on earth?"

Nothing breeds fatigue like inactivity. (O.A. Batista)

"Rules are for when brains run out" (I have a whole essay I can write on "zero-tolerance policies" that emerge from my belief in this quote)


If man owns land, the land owns him. (Emerson)

Whenever science makes a discover, the devil grabs it while the angels are debating the best way to use it. (Alan Valentine)

People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges. (J.F. Newton)

Fire tries gold, misery tries brave men. (Seneca)

To sin by silence when they should protest makes cowards out of men.

He has a right to criticise who has a heart to help. (Abraham Lincoln)

There is so much good in the worst of us,
And so much bad in the best of us.
That it ill becomes any of us,
To look down on the rest of us. (C.W. Leadbeater)

Pray as if everything depended on GOD, and work as if everything depended on man. (Spielman)

Troubles like babies grow larger with nursing. (Lady Holland)

Self-confidence is the first requisite to Great undertakings. (Samuel Johnson)

So, which of these are your favorites?

May 3, 1939: Wedding of the Week!

My Grandparents Wedding was the "Wedding of the Week" in 1939

NOSTALGIA

Here is the essay I referred to in my post from yesterday. I wrote it approximately in 1984 (or, it could have been 1985) I just discovered my handwritten version of this that actually dated it to February 1987. I was approximately 18 20 when I wrote this. I found the typewritten sheets in an old box and decided to transcribe it to digital form. I was tempted to make some corrections to grammar, word usage, and punctuation, but I resisted. This is using the exact same words and form as the original.

Original typed manuscript from the 1980s

NOSTALGIA

Is this why I have rushed through all these years of my life? To reminisce about the past? I never took a moment more than 52 weeks to complete each year of my life, as if in a hurry to shake the years off as a swan shakes drops of water off its feathers. But now I feel myself being drawn back into youth. The mysterious haze beckoning, taunting. And I try desperately, rubbing my eyes, to get a clearer picture of my past. I see a hazy vision of myself energetically cranking my HMV gramophone, eager to hear how Elvis sounds on his latest release. A blue cloud lifts to show me a boy skipping school to stand outside the airport and gaze awestruck at those magnificent flying machines.

And I look at myself. Or is it really me? How much I have changed. How bravely I had faced the world then. The exuberance of youth now gone forever. Nostalgia never leaves us. In my childhood I spent hours on end with sanguine thoughts of my utopian future. Thinking … about the cars I would have… The day I would actually travel in an airplane… my own family… When was the switchover? At what stage did my day dreams of the future become day dreams of the past? I long to pinpoint the stage at which the suffix “Uncle” was added to my first name. Or to put it bluntly, the stage at which I became “legitimately old.” Perhaps it was gradual. Maybe at some point, I spent equal amounts of time thinking of my past and my future. I can’t recall now. But I can, now, think of some indications of this change. The day I actually felt a sting of satisfaction when I met a long lost classmate of mine and found that he had lost more hair than I.

The blue cloud descends and the scene is lost. I try and look further back. My eyes trying to push away the fog and pull the past a little closer to me for a clearer view. I hardly notice the clearings which reveal the not so pleasant memories. My first broken leg. The first ‘F’ on my report card. The death of my pet cat… I wonder… am I pulling the past closer to me… to prevent the exchange of a certain past with an uncertain future? The human reflex to clutch on to familiarity and shun risk, personal risk.

Today, with my white, thinning hair and wrinkled face, I find it impossible to be hopeful about the future. I spend hours looking back with nostalgia but the future is always looked upon with awe – and sometimes – dread. Why do we humans assume death to be something terrible? Is it because it is in the future? Something we have never experienced? Something we know nothing about? Then why is it that a youth looks upon that same future with hope and with a cheerful face while I look upon it as inevitable and try so very hard to accept it?

At a certain age the dread and awe are replaced with the “brave” smile of reconciliation. I seem to take pride in the fact that I am closer to “the end” than you are. “See how brave and cheerful I am” I call out quietly to everyone I meet. The superiority I feel is reflected in the pat on the back I give to the young I meet. Every action of mine in their presence seems to tell them “you’ll get here soon. Let’s see how brave you are then.” “I am brave” I assure myself. The fact that I need to reconcile myself to my fate implies that the end is something undesirable. The eighteen year old boy who just walked across the street doesn’t seem to be struggling to accept the inevitable confrontation with his uncertain future. Perhaps this is the wisdom that comes with age. Perhaps it is my wisdom that convinces me that I need to resign myself to the “terrible end” that it reaching out for me. The black hand stretching out to squeeze the breath out of my body. If wisdom means nothing more than an awareness of the mortality of man, I want no part of it. How lucky fools are!

But I worry. My wisdom incessantly reminds me of my glowing past and dim future. Nostalgia overcomes me. I know. Every single day I spend moving towards my bleak future obscures, erases totally one day of my glorious past. A day I can never look back on. The mist thickens. One more day of my life is lost.

**           **           **

RAJIV VAIDYANATHAN

Address:   C – 6/57, S.D.A

                 New Delhi – 110 016

[Written circa 1984 February 1987]