Miracle

I received an SMS. ‘It’ asked me to recite a couple of lines softly that stated that I believed in a certain saint. Further it asked me to forward that SMS to eleven others. If I did so, I would see a miracle by night. For a change it did not threaten with dire consequences if I did not forward it.

Since the sender is a dear friend of mine, I called him up and told him that I was not sending the SMS further. He being what he is, a dear old friend, understood.

Then I told him that if all the recipients of the original forwarded it and the subsequent eleven also further down without a break, the only miracles that would be seen were at the cash registers of the mobile telephone operators and that I was not interested in creating miracles for them. I did not want to send them “laughing all the way to the bank.”

The reason for not naming the saint in this post is that I have a lot of respect for him as a man. Humane. If the SMS had said that if I did not forward it, something unspeakable would happen, it would not have made sense. I am glad. The saint was the farthest a man could be from malevolence.

The Mystery of Palmistry

I was a very thin teenager. Perhaps, “painfully thin”.

I had gone to Bangalore to attend a wedding. After the wedding I visited an aunt of mine. Her husband dabbled in palmistry. He casually ordered me (he was that type of a man) to show him my hand and I meekly thrust my hand out. He brought a powerful lens and studied my hand.

After some time, he asked me, “Do you suffer from constipation?” I was impressed. I did suffer from it frequently. I nodded apologetically. As if it was my fault.

He growled, I will teach you an exercise and if you do them regularly, (the heavy emphasis was on the ‘if’, mind you) “it” will go. He taught me sit-ups.

I surprised myself. I did do them regularly.

I was very bookish. I was so bookish that my father had to drive me out of the house, in the evenings. (Oh, I am ever so grateful to him). Now, I developed some interest in my own body and learnt a few more exercises. Push-ups, pull-ups and many other free hand stuff. As coincidence would have it, “Science Today” published an article called the “daily dozen” which taught a dozen exercises to keep one reasonably fit. I started doing them all except the one with the bar bells. I did not have one.

After a few months I went to my tailor to get some new shirts stitched. He enquired, “The last measurements?” I said, “No! New ones!”, proudly. I can imagine him suppressing a smirk as he took out his measuring tape. He took the chest measurement and gawped. He checked his tape to see if he was holding it right. He was. He rummaged through his drawer of his cutting table, fished out his note book and located my earlier measurements. There was a 4 inch difference, in the chest measurements. (Tailors did use inches in Metric India then)

“Ye kyaa baa! Kyaa hogaya there ko” he started off in his “chaste” Mysore Urdu, forgetting that I did not speak or understand that language. I could still divine the gist of it. The wonder in his eyes spoke for him. I had a semblance of a masculine figure now in comparison to my, perhaps, 28-24-30 figure earlier.

Well, a little later I went to Bangalore again and my uncle promptly accosted me and asked me, “how are you and how is your constipation?”. It was then that I realised that I had not had an incident of that in the intervening year or so. I was amazed. (We do tend to take our good health or fortune for granted and crib when we lose it) I told him that I had not had it for a year. He looked me head to toe with a satisfied smile. He was genuinely happy and proud. He was in deed fond of me.

I have often wondered how he knew I was prone to constipation. Was he so ‘good’ a palmist?

I do not think so. He was, in fact, a body builder in his younger days. My father had actually seen him pull a car with a rope as exercise! I had seen him bend fairly formidable looking iron rods with his hands in his workshop. His understanding of the human body must have told him of my state as soon as he saw my palms. It used to be clammy, pale and had red spots.

Then on, I have never suffered that particular ailment again.

After all, it was my fault that I had constipation. I was not taking care of my own self!

So much for the power of palmistry . . .

Sphice of Life

There was this hoarding of Spice Jet Airlines, at the junction of Residency Road and M G Road near Mayo Hall. Perhaps, driven by the fear of incurring the wrath of the self-styled defenders of Kannada the hoarding had the name in Kannada too. It was as shown in the lower line in the picture above. Transliterated, it would be Sphice or Sfice. The line at the top shows the correct way of writing it.

I wrote to the marketing department of the company pointing out the error. I also asked them if the advertising agency's bills had been paid. I also wondered if the bill would have been paid if the same mistake had been made in the English version. I received no answer.

The self-styled defenders of Kannada blacken boards and hoardings in English but never boards which have bad or wrong Kannada. What a pity.

With no Comments

Karma and DNA

I read the obituary of Maharshi Mahesh Yogi with great interest. I too learnt TM popularised by him, in the seventies. I have practiced TM, off and on, and have benefited from it. That would be grist for the mill for another post.

What is of interest at the moment is the report that says "as told to Anubha Sawhney Joshi" by Deepak Chopra, about the passing away of the Maharshi.

It describes the incident of Deepak Chopra giving his blood to the Maharshi. Very interesting! The Maharshi at first refused to accept blood from Deepak Chopra because he did not want Chopra's Karma to flow into him. When Deepak Chopra convinced him that red blood corpuscles do not carry DNA, the Maharshi acceepted the blood.

So we carry our Karma in our DNA! That is news to me and am sure so is it to the thousands of people who work in the field of genetics.

What a load of rubbish!

Pranab and his Award

Padma Vibhushan Pranab Mukherjee said that there should be no room for controversy about is getting that award.

He is absolutley right. No room for controversy. It is WRONG that he was given the award.

To see the contrast, see the conduct of Maulana Abul Kalam Azad here.

Another similar story is that of the First Bharat Ratna awardee Sir M Vishweshwarayya. When the cabinet decided to honour him with that award, no one wanted to inform him! Because of his reputation as a man who did not mince words.

Prime Minister Nehru himself wrote to him and requested him to accept the award. True to form Sir M V wrote back sayaing that he did not want to accept that award if it curtailed his freedom in anyway to criticise Nehru's government if the need arose. Nehru, equally gracefully wrote back that it was for such upstanding ways of his that he was being given that award. It was only then that Sir. M V accepted the award.

Alas, unbelievable, in these days of "moral pygmies"

Measles?

I saw hoardings all over Bangalore proclaiming as above. It says Amma in Bangalore.

When I saw it the first time, I could see just the top part of the hoarding. My immediate reaction was one of consternation. Was there an epidemic of smallpox in Bangalore? Or was it chickenpox or measles? There is already gastroeneritis - cholera. Now this?

Then the bottom part of the hoarding became visible. It was announcing the presence a religious/spiritual person, popularly known as Amma.

Even though amma means mother and I call my mother amma, seen as a banner headline, it could mean what I first thought!

Uffff...

Einstein and Religion

Einstein is once supposed to have said something like, "Religion without science is blind, science without religion is lame". This is often quoted to say something like "See? Even Einstein said that religion is important. Most do not realise that Einstein had his own definition of religion, which was quite different from what most people usually take it to be.

Here is the original article: "Religion and Science" - New York Times Magazine, November 9, 1930

Here is an article in Kannada on the subject by my father, J R Lakshmana Rao, published in the January 25, 2008 edition of Prajavani.

The same article English, is coming soon. . . Here it is!

For your reading pleasure. . . .

Bombay?

There was this Englishman friend of mine, Peter, who visited Mysore frequently. He had fun by going to an autorickshaw and asking the driver "Bombay?". The drivers would melt, fidget and grin. Then he would pat the driver on the shoulder and tell him where he really wanted to go.

One day he met his match.

There was this autowallah, sitting in the drivers seat, with his legs crossed, reading a news paper. Peter goes and asks him: "Bombay?"

The driver unhurriedly uncrosses his legs as he folds his paper, with his eyes still on the job of folding the paper and says calmly, "Yes, Five Thousand Rupees". You should have seen Peter's face!

He recovered, guffawed and shook the driver by the hand and said, "OK, OK, for now, Saraswathipuram will do"!

Auto Wisdom

Autorickshaws in Bangalore are painted on their backs with names of the owners' children, names of movies, "Hi - somebody-or-the-other" and sometime some aphorism. Some of them gross, some are hilarious, some are even wise.

I love looking for them. Here is a gem that I saw today. For those who can not read the Kannada script, here is the transliteration as per the Baraha translitration aplication:

aaDu muTTad soppilla . .
aaTo nuggada galliyilla

It declares with pride that "there is no leaf that a goat does not eat (a famous proverb in Kannada) . . There is no alley that an auto does not elbow its way into!"

That is definitely pride in his work I admire it.

Note on "The Sensation"

My story The Sensation elicited many responses, in person.

In the years gone by, many self styled astrologers and palmists have tried to tell me my future. The common things that they said were that I would never step out of India and that my "Education" was complete and that I would never even acquire another certificate, let alone a degree.

I have been abroad several times and did get an M Tech (Reliability Engineering) from IIT Kharagpur.

So much for the power of these "arts"

Sign of the Times

The most irritating aspect of traffic in India is the incessant honking. I have a host of sticker ideas about it, which I have never executed, though.

I saw a great one the other day on the rear mudguard of a bike: "Honk, If you are an idiot"

I want to put up, "Honk away, I am deaf anyway!"

Dyspixia

At work, I belong to a group of people who read and analyse patent documents. Whenever I see a patent on the screen, the first thing I notice is the drawing on the first page. I identify the document from the picture. Quite often, if I come across the same document at a later date, I recognize it from its picture.

I found at least one colleague to whom the picture does not make any sense. She reads only the words - the title, abstract - on the first page. She says that she does not even register the picture. What a difference! I asked a few other colleagues and they confirmed that they too look at the picture first.

To describe her state or method or inability to "read" a picture, I invented a word - dyspixia - similar to dyslexia.

Before writing this post I put the word into Google and found one site! You put any gobbledygook and you find a hit?

God and the Gregorian calendar

I was listening to a charlatan on a popular Kannada TV Channel this morning. He was telling his audience that the dates of 8, 17 and 28 of the months, whose digits add up to 8 are inauspicious.


What Bunkum, I thought, when he claimed that “all natural disaster or calamities” occur on those days. He even said that the break up of the Reliance Industries was because it was incorporated on the 26th of some month. He also said that unhappy marriages, divorces are the results of weddings that took place on those days.


I did a small test. I looked for a list of natural disasters on Google. I opened the first one that came up and found that out of the ten listed, the numbers of only one added up to 8 – the Chernobyl disaster. The REMANING NINE DID NOT. Of course, this was a listing based on some yardstick chosen by the compiler of the list. But still it should have at least had more than one, don’t you think?


I looked for other lists and MOST of them did not meet this specification.


I wondered:


Why does god/fate follow the Gregorian calendar? Why not any of the innumerable other calendars available and followed for religious purposes? For example: the lunar calendar of some Hindus, the solar calendars of other Hindus, or the Islamic or Jewish or Chinese calendars? Does it mean that the Judeo-Christian god is the true god, perhaps?


Which was a bad day in the days before the Gregorian calendar came to be accepted as the universal calendar? The number of days was changed sometime in the calendars history. What happened to in those days. If disasters then too occurred on such days, did god /fate change to the new calendar along with humans?

When it is 26th here, elsewhere on the globe, it is still 25th or it is already 27th in some other places. Which is the correct date then?


India became a republic on 26, January. Does it qualify as a natural disaster or a political disaster or what?


India lost the Boxing Day test (starting on 26 Dec, 2007). National disaster? But Australia won. What?

Gut Feeling

Some researchers used an unusual (and controversial) method of predicting the impact of human activities on the environment. What he did was to interview scores of scientists in the concerned field, and out of it, for their predictions. The overwhelming opinion was that the impact is visible and unless contained will be disastrous in future.
However, one scientist gave a very guarded answer based on what he already knew and refused to go any further. The interviewer asked him what his ‘gut feeling’ (Bauchgefühl) was.
The scientist’s answer must be carved in stone and displayed in a prominent place, in all academic institutions.
His answer was:
All my life, I have trained myself to think with my head, based on facts. I refuse to start thinking with my guts now.
I have to admit that this is a free translation of what I read in German and that my German is not all that great. Still the message was unmistakable in its clarity and definiteness.
Kudos!

Drink, Don’t drive?

"Make love, not war” was the slogan of the flower power generation.

Now Bangalore seems to have a similar slogan. Drink, Don’t drive. At least that is what many hoardings in Kannada seem to do. They exhort you, “Madya pAna mADi, vAhana chalAyisabeDi”

Or, is my punctuation all wrong?

The Eigth Note

There was an article in The Hindu based on an interview with Ustad Amjad Ali Khan. It has a reference to a discussion on science, technology and music. The Ustad goes on to say that “It [science] simply lacks the human touch. Despite the innovations and mechanisation, science has not been able to push the envelope and discover new musical note,” Very true, did you say? Big deal, nor has Philosophy for instance. Nor has Sociology.

For that matter, even music itself has not created a new note!!!

Let alone a new note, compared to the already existing ragas, hardly any new ragas have been created. You talk about that to a musician and he is likely to say, “A life time is not enough to explore the possibilities of a handful of Ragas. Where is the need for new ones?” Ditto notes. See the Ustad’s own opinion on the subject.

The point is that some people feel threatened by science or technology. They want to take pot shots at science and/or technology without any provocation. This seems to be such a case. Those taken unawares, do believe the Ustad’s statement, I am sure, without asking further questions. This is akin to a hunter shooting a sleeping tiger. Even in that despicable so-called-sport there is are traditions and conventions that govern what is honourable!

Make no mistake. I am a great lover of music – all music. If it makes any difference, I have even played the Tambura (Tanpura) for the Ustad, for his concert in the Mysore Palace a couple of decades ago.

Timeless India?

Two pictures: One dated 1908 and the other, 2007. The latter, of course, is by an artist, inter alia, friend of mine - Jayanth Lakshman. He bemoans that things do not change in India even after a 100 years. I know a few souls who would be happy that it does not. I leave it to you.

Feral animals

A dear friend of mine, wrote this as a part of his mail. I told him that he should blog this. In this matter, at least, he is lazier than I. So here I am, putting it on my blog.

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Feral animals

Domesticated dogs have few functions to perform in their lives. Done well, they are appreciated and well taken care of by their masters. They obey and have this irresistible urge to please the master. They do it well until they grow in unmanageable number and turn feral. In Indian cities we find feral horses, donkeys and dogs in packs. Their pack behavior is different. Once removed from the need to be obedient and good they turn their attention to the basic need like existence, power in the pack and procreation.

For example once dogs form feral packs they behave differently to the Tommy, Caesar and Rocky we know of and turn to beings we no longer recognize as man’s best friend.

The pack usually consists of one Alpha Male, breeding females, few young and juvenile males and some older ones. They usually pick a territory and stick within. The pack members behave with each other with guarded respect until the season arrives. This is the time the Alpha wants to retain dominance fearing being usurped by a new comer. All of them vie for status of high order in the pack. They bicker, whine, bark and bite each other creating havoc. This is followed by constant urination to mark the territory and this activity is concentrated on the main land mark of the territory. It is very interesting to note the power shown by barking, fang exposure, rising of the tail and hair on the neck and back. Sometimes when the Alpha is busy showing off his power in the pack one unsuspecting juvenile finds a chance for him to copulate with the female. Hell gets loose. The males of the pack just go berserk and they all try to teach the smart young one a lesson. Barking, biting and utter terror become the order of the hour and suddenly one finds new blood being introduced by an unsuspecting juvenile when the Alpha and the rest bickered.

Do I hear someone say that this is kinda akin to what was happening inside and out of Vidhana Soudha in Bangalore since a few weeks?

Come on, I was only kidding.

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Is he really?

Super Power

I received a clever SMS. It read, “Kalam’s dream of our country becoming a superpower in 2020 has come true. We are the superpower in Twenty20”.

Clever, very clever.

I watched and enjoyed the tense end too. It was fun. When the last Pak wicket fell I whooped too. I drove out at 10:30 towards MG road to watch the celebrations. Got stuck (struck or ‘stuck up’ as most of us say!) in a traffic jam. The euphoria on display was and is unbelievable.

It is the fashion of the (political) day to demand the resignation of a minister, if not the whole ministry, in case of a misdemeanour – real or imaginary. So, I decided to join the bandwagon too when I saw the reports on the ‘victory’ parade of our ‘conquering heroes’ in which tens of thousands of people in Mumbai participated .

I hereby demand (ahem!) the resignation of the minister in charge of human resources. The fact that there are tens of thousands of people, in our most business-like city, have no better business is proof enough of his and his ministries failure?