Question of burial: two opposing views

A few months back, a Kerala church refused to bury Madhu Jyotsna Akhouri, Priyanka Chopra's grandmother in the church ground. It was her last wish to be buried in this church, which was where she was baptized in and which her father had helped to construct. There was a wave of indignation and resentment at this stubborn and obstinate behavior of the church from many quarters, including the Christian fraternity as well. It is worthwhile to delve a little deep into this unfortunate incident and put things in perspective.

 

Madhu Jyotsana Akhauri was born Mary John in St John’s Attamangalam parish in Kumarakom, Kerala. After completing a nursing course in Kerala, she went to Bihar to pursue a means of livelihood and found her life partner in a Hindu named Dr. Akhouri. She carved a niche for herself in Bihar, making a mark as a social activist, freedom fighter and former legislator of Bihar. Yet she never forgot her roots and maintained her ties with the church in which she was baptized. Incidentally, she had partaken of the Holy Eucharist couple of years before her death in that church. Her last wish to be laid to rest at the cemetery of her home parish was turned down by the church authorities as she had married a Hindu an lived a Hindu way of life. Traditions and customs are more sacred than the sentiments of Priyanka, the church said. It was not about the sentiments of Priyanka. It was about respecting the simple and heartfelt wish of a person to be laid to rest in her family cemetery amongst her kith and kin. It was sad that human sentiment was crushed at the altar of dogma and orthodoxy. A mythical time honored notion of purity was more sacrosanct to us than honoring and fulfilling the last wishes of a departed soul. Mary John was born in the church parish and baptized in the church. She grew up within the precincts of the church diocese. Her forebears lie interred in the soil of the church cemetery. The church should have accepted her in death in a return of the prodigal kind of way. Christ in his life displayed exemplary examples love, compassion and forgiveness, which ought to be emulated by every human. He embraced the wanderer, the prodigal, the sinner in his hold. The Jacobite church in Kerala failed to embrace one of theirs. As such, this act of denial by the church was not only unchristian, but inhumane too. Ironically, Pope Francis had declared 2016 as the ‘Year of Mercy’ exhorting Christians to ‘be merciful just as the Father in Heaven is merciful to you.' Sadly, this mercy and compunction didn't seem to be forthcoming from the church. It is one of the events which makes us take a cynical second look at religion and the assorted dogmas and ossified traditions wrought by it. Here religion  plays less of an enabler and more of an anarchic, vitiating force. Same subject, a different slant. Ecclesiastical canons and conventions are inscribed in stone with no leeway for exceptions. The church confers membership to individuals who partake in the requisite minimum church activities and pays a nominal subscription fees annually, which is used for maintenance of the church and paying the salary of the priests. Mary John was not a Christian for marrying a Hindu and leading a ‘non-christian’ way of life, she was not an active member of the church and hence deemed unfit for a christian burial. The sacristy and the church property is owned collectively, by the members that is. The burial ground is the sanctum sanctorum, and to be accorded the privilege to be buried in its  inviolable soil in your death requires that you be a legitimate member of the church in your lifetime. This honor cannot be bestowed on the guest who makes an occasional presence to partake in Eucharist or make a confession, but never shouldered the day to day responsibilities of the church. The church is an autonomous institution and hence is under no obligation to cede cemetery space to a ‘non member’ on the basis of the deceased’s ‘last wishes’, especially where burial space is limited and has been allotted specifically for burial of church members. The deceased showed a duplicity by marrying outside the Syrian orthodoxy and settling into a pagan groove during her life, yet desiring a Christian burial in her death.  If you cease to be a functioning member of the church in your life you relinquish the right to be buried in its consecrated soil in your death.

Not coercing any particular view point here. Just drawing a silhouette for the reader to join the dots.

Tyrion Lannister: The Imp

The Game of Thrones is a riveting work of fiction, replete with multiple story archs, unexpected twists and turns and a host of colorful characters. Amongst these plethora of characters lending depth and character to this medievalesque drama, Tyrion Lannister strides like a colossus, the loftiest of them all. With every episode the Imp rises in stature, stamping the drama with the imprimatur of his intensely individual personality and character. Here is an attempt to delve into his psyche and  understand what makes him tick.

Tyrion is the third child of Lord Tywin of  house Lannister, one of the most powerful and wealthiest families of Westeros. He is a dwarf . In his debut scene Tyrion is seen in a brothel  in Winterfell, gulping down wine and enjoying the company of a prostitute. His dalliance with  the prostitute is cut short by the unexpected entry of his brother Jamie who hastens him to attend  the feast hosted by the Starks, Tyrion replies acerbically.

I'm sorry. I've begun the feast a bit early. And this is the first of many courses.

 A sharp wit and tongue in cheek humor are the signature traits of his character. He is  brutally frank and honest to a fault. These are the attributes that Tyrion displays in the opening scenes and holds forth throughout the play.

Owing to his physical deformities, Tyrion is subjected to mockery and ridicule all his life. Jamie, his elder brother is the only person who had a soft spot for him. One of two distinct character traits can germinate in a man of Tyrion's antecedents. It can make one stone hearted and inured to pain, and derive a  revengeful pleasure in subjecting others to pain and abuse when in a position to  do so. But it was not so for Tyrion. Behind his nonchalant demeanor and devil may care attitude, pain and loneliness dug deep and surfaced in moments of vulnerability. He was never inured to  pain but had a heightened level of sensitivity to it. It was this awareness that manifested in the way he expressed   empathy to people whom he perceived to be helpless and unfortunate like  him, be that as it may, a bastard deprived of motherly love or a crippled child who had lost the use of his legs. Tyrion puts it succinctly --

I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards and broken things.

He strikes a conversation with Jon Snow, bastard son of Eddard Stark and advice's him thusly

Let me give you some advice bastard. Never forget what you are. The rest of world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.

And then displays a sense of comradery when he goes on to say --

All dwarfs are bastards in their fathers eyes.

Tyrion is captured by Catelyn Stark and her coterie and falsely accused of attempting to murder her son. A fortuitous intervention by the mercenary Bronn who volunteers to fight for him in a death by combat saves Tyrion's life. Tyrion has the brains and Bronn has the brawns and they forge a symbiotic relationship. The duo is returning to the Lannister war camp when they are waylaid by the

men of the hill tribes led by Shagga.

Shagga: How would you like to die Tyrion, son of  Tywin ?

Tyrion: In my own bed, with a belly of wine and a maiden's mouth around my cock, at the age of eighty.

Tyrion not only piques Shagga with his whacky humor but also offers Shagga a deal of providing him with gold and weapons in exchange of sparing his life and his mercenary Bronn. Tyrion provides an object lesson  in how not to lose one's cool in excruciating circumstances.

Back in Kings Landing, Tyrion dons several hats with panache. He assumes responsibility as the Hand of the King, dabbles in court politics and plays a decisive role in the battle of Blackwater, saving Kings Landing from the onslaught of Stannis's army. Despite his services to the kingdom, Tyrion is once again falsely charged, this time of murdering his nephew Joffrey Baratheon. In the

trial that ensues, Tyrion denies rather matter of factly any hand in the murder yet not making any attempt to hide his contempt for his nephew, the sadistic King Joffrey. But his malevolent father Tywin and sister Carsei, prodded by their visceral hatred for Tyrion are determined to rob Tyrion of his life by means fair or foul. They rope in a group of witnesses to testify against Tyrion and tighten the noose around him. Towards the end of the trial, when his conviction seemed imminent, he explodes into fulminations. His words betray the simmering anger pent up inside him as well as the sense of betrayal he felt against the inhabitants of Kings Landing. This catharsis is poignant to say the least.

 I saved this city. All your worthless lives. I should have let Stannis kill you all.

I did not kill Joffrey, but I wish that I had! Watching your vicious bastard die gave me more 

relief than a thousand lying whores!

I wish I was the monster you think I am ! I wish I had enough poison for the whole pack of you!

I would gladly give my life to watch you swallow it!

I  will not give my life for Joffrey's murder and I know I'll get no justice here, so I will let the gods decide my fate. I demand a trial by combat!

The trial by combat does happen, as demanded by Tyrion, this time Prince Oberyn pitching in for him. Oberyn is killed in the duel but Jamie allows Tyrion to flee from prison and Tyrion makes good his escape.

Tyrion is a dwarf, and an ugly one at that. His friends and family treats him alike, with contempt and disdain.  But it was not in his disposition to go gentle into the night. He struggles to create a niche for himself. He fights to get the recognition and credibility that he feels he deserves. And he remains firm and tenacious in this fight all along. This is a trait that drew respect and admiration from the man who had been his harshest critic and detractor all his life, his father Tywin Lannister.

  Tyrion:All my life you've wanted me dead.

 Tywin:Yes. But you refused to die. I respect that. Even admire it....

And as the Game of Thrones continues with its intriguing plots and story lines, Tyrion of house Lannister, first of his name and the former Hand of the King, will keep us in thrall. May the force be with him !!!

Epilogue:

I have not read the original novel " A Song of Ice and Fire". So my interpretation of Tyrion is solely based on watching the first four episodes of  The Game of Thrones. I find the characters  of the Game Of Thrones rather inscrutable, interspersed with shades of grey. Tyrion's character  is rather cogent, amenable to a linear delineation. I read a couple of narratives describing Tyrion as "cruel". I don't find him overtly cruel, though he exacts revenge on people who had wronged  him in the past. That's the why I perceive Tyrion Lannister, to each his own.

Sanjiv Bhatt: a crook as a hero

 Once in a while, we have a lapse in our judgement, a gaping lacuna in our thought process. We mistake cowardice for bravery, skulduggery for honesty and a zero for a hero. Sanjiv Bhatt is hailed by a section of our people, as a brave and fearless cop. A man of conviction and gumption who stood up against the corrupt and communal state government of Gujrat and exposed its dark underbelly. Heaps of eulogy spewed on him and paeans sung in his name. Ladies and gentlemen, hold your horses. Before you are carried away by this propaganda pertaining to this "courageous" police officer, it is time to ingest some home truths.

  Leaving side all this hype and hullabaloo surrounding Sanjiv Bhatt, it is worthwhile to take a look at  his career and track record objectively. Sanjiv Bhatt's career, from its very inception, has been mired with controversy. His misdemeanors, acutely criminal in nature, predates Modi's coming to power in Gujrat. In 1990, Prabhudas Vaishnani  died of renal failure after he was allegedly beaten in custody in Jamkhambhalia . His brother Amrut Vaishnani registered a complaint against Bhatt and his six subordinates for custodial torture and murder. In November 1990, Vijaysinh Bhatti, who was 40-years old then, was taken to a police station, after he had come out of his house during a curfew. He was severely beaten and tortured, resulting in  kidney failure and being bed ridden for life. In 1996, as the SP of Banaskantha district, he implicated  a Rajasthan-based lawyer, Sumer Singh, in a fake narcotics case to get a shop vacated. He is accused of planting more than a kilogram worth of narcotics and indulging in abductions  in order to establish an alibi and serve vested interests. Subsequently, a criminal case was filed against Sanjiv Bhatt. The Bar association of Pali has alleged that Bhatt got himself appointed the Gujarat government's officer in-charge for the special appeal petition pending in the SC  and was  misusing the public money to fight the crimes he committed. The saga of transgressions does-not end here, Bhatt was at the center of a massive recruitment scam that hit Gujarat in 1996 when he headed the recruitment process as SP of Banaskantha. Ignoring the orders of the DGP, he did not follow regular procedures including maintaining records of those candidates who were successful in the police constable examinations. 

 In 2015, Bhatt was terminated from service for unauthorized absence. Let it be known that Bhatt has always had a habit of not reporting to duty, for extended periods without prior intimation, He is  a "brave" cop, with a  career besmirched with crimes and transgressions. A reputation for blatantly abusing power, implicating innocents in false cases, misusing government property and resources, recalcitrant to authority and being derelict in discharging his duties as a government official.  

  In 2011, 9 years after the Gujrat riots, Sanjiv Bhatt filed an affidavit in the Supreme court of India, against the CM of Gujrat, Narendra Modi.  He claimed to have attended a meeting, called by the CM during which he allegedly asked top police officials to give a free hand to the  Hindus to vent out their anger against the Muslims. Personally, I find it strange what took Bhatt nine years to file this affidavit if he knew Modi was culpable in the riots all along. Was the "brave" and "honest" cop mustering his courage all the years or did he have a sudden epiphany of sorts ? Interestingly when questioned about the huge delay in implicating Modi, Bhatt stated that in 2004, he "started sending out feelers" that he wanted to be cross-examined by the Nanavati Commission, but the Commission had not called him. Subsequently, the Special Investigation Team appointed by the Supreme Court of India concluded that Bhatt did not attend this meeting, and dismissed his allegations. In addition the SIT maintained that Bhatt had forged signatures of his superior officers to temper evidence in his favor, his descriptions of the events surrounding the riots were  inconsistent and his long silence in coming up with the revelations relating to the riots were rather dubious. 

  

Immediately after the dismissal of Bhatt, their was a  huge uproar, especially by the sickulars and liberals from the hate Modi cottage industry. The press went gaga about the "brave" cop who "took on Modi" being dismissed from service. Is simply "taking on" a powerful person imply that you are brave and uncorrupted? More so when the person "taking on" has grave criminal antecedents? Does the accusations of a tainted cop with criminal shenanigans have more weightage than the decree of the court ?

 By the way, it is rather hilarious to see how Sanjiv Bhatt always aims his barbs at Modi in particular and RSS/BJP in general. See Sanjiv Bhatt's twitter and facebook account and you will not see a single day where Bhatt has not written about Modi or BJP. His monomania and fixation with Modi is mildly entertaining. He spends his days observing when Modi wakes up, eats, sleeps, sneezes and then finding one hundred and one reasons to criticize him. However, he is very coy about saying anything against the Congress. It is germane to mention here that Bhatt's wife Shweta contested against Modi on a congress ticket in the Assembly elections, hoping to be a great hero but ended up being a big zero when she could not  secure even a decent defeat. In the meantime Sanjiv Bhatt goes on in  social media giving a free hand to his verbal diarrhea, with a preposterous holier than thou mien, full of grandiose high falutin words, but extremely shallow in substance and logic and reasoning skills worst than a mentally retarded monkey.

 After being sacked from service, the pompous fool quotes Voltaire ---"

Dangerous to be right when govt is wrong

Lol!! The condescending fool forgets that it is the duty of the courts to decide who is wrong and who is right. Below are more of some of the pompous clowns rhetorics  in twitter and fb, akin to the howlings of a lunatic---

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Devious politicians are not the real problem. It is the gullible morons who keep on voting for them. 

For this compulsive liar, every election state that he visits is his 'second home'. Demagoguery thy name is Modi. :) 

The journey of India: From the Fabian Socialism of Nehru to the Fabian Fascism of Modi. What next? 

Deceit, lies, betrayal and trickery don't surprise me any more. What leaves me dumbfounded is truth, loyalty, honesty and sacrifice. 

When you elect an Events Manager as the Prime Minister, this is what you get. Now get ready for Raksha Bandhan... 

   A nation of gullible idiots will always find a smart charlatan to lead them down the garden path.

Did someone say, Prime Moron? 

An absolute must watch. The King of morons talking through his hat. Someone get him a real-time teleprompter.:) 

Devious politicians are not the real problem. It is the gullible morons who keep on voting for them.

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After going through this bunkum by Bhatt I could not stop laughing. This guy must be high on drugs. Or he is suffering from grandiose delusional fantasies and is in poor mental health. The people who voted for Modi are all morons or gullible fools. It seems that Sanjiv Bhatt alone (and his buddies from the hate Modi cottage industry) know whats best for the country. The reservoir of the nation's brain and intelligence lies in the cerebrum  of Sanjiv Bhatt and his buddies. He does-not have any faith in democratic institutions and the wishes of the people. Nor does this clown have any respect for the judiciary or the law of the land. Between, has the "brave" cop ever aimed his barbs at the Congress or criticized the mega scams under the congress rule. No he hasn't raised a murmur of protest and we all know why...:-) 

We live in a democratic country and we have freedom of speech, right to criticize and all that. Sanjiv Bhatt is apt in misusing these democratic rights, to viciously slander and pillory Modi and create a vile megalomaniac caricature of him.  He has been using Modi and Gujrat government as a fig leaf to cover his own criminal shenanigans. He is a master in projecting that the sky has fallen, de-legitimizing the system of governance as a whole, casting aspersions on the law of our land and in the process projecting himself as fearless guardian of the public weal.His machinations are akin to a wily and scruple less parvenu, skilled in agitprop and dirty Goebbelsian tactics. Kudos to the government of Gujrat for having the spine for arresting and suspending this crook of a cop even though this act may be termed as a political vendetta initiated by the government. And hats of to the current dispensation for dismissing this crook  even as this crook continues to cry foul and continues barking like a dog. The mask of maudlin morality worn by Sanjiv Bhatt has been disported and people should see him for what he is, a very cunning, corrupted and over ambitious usurper and a coward to boot.

The solitary fisherman

Last summer my wife and I had gone for a short weekend trip to Pondicherry. We were residing at St. James, a beach resort along the east coast road, close to Auroville. It is a nice place. The elegantly furnished delux rooms  provide ample view of the balmy turquoise waters. It has a bar overlooking the sea, a lush well maintained garden and a private beach. If you want to check this out, go here .

It was my first day of vacation. I got up early morning to enjoy the salubrious  coastal air and a swim in the sea. After having a fun time frolicking with the waves I was returning to the resort when I sighted a solitary fisherman by his boat. It was those common place wooden hulled boats with planks boarded together. Below him in the sand, he had placed a worn out cloth in which he had laid out some small fish, conch and oyster shells. His quaint rustic charm piqued by interest and I went up to him to strike a conversation. He seemed a bit hesitant at first but when he realized that I could follow his broken Hindi, he was more than happy to engage with me. He explained that his had been a hard life, having to depend on the bounty of the sea for the sustenance of his family. He belonged to a traditional fishing community who lived in hutments, pockets of habitation scattered across the coasts. Some of them lived in roofed boats for extended periods as they went around parts of the ocean were fish were in abundance. Water gypsies I should say. He had lived and grown up near the ocean all his life, but his fascination for the waters never weaned with age. The thrill and adrenaline rushes were incredible each time he embarked on midnight sorties over the stormy waters of the Bay of Bengal. His eyes lit up as he talked about his nocturnal visits to the sea. Two or three  able bodied men would haul the boats to the waters around midnight. There were usually four or five boats that would go together in a group, the helmsman of the first boat would be the most experienced of the lot and he would lead the group, charting roads across the waters leading to parts in the ocean where fish was plentiful. When I inquired about the conch and shells which he had laid below, he said they were collected from the ocean beds. These were meant to be sold to the local vendors, particularly the oyster shells brought good  money and was very helpful when fish was scarce. The fisherman was interested to know about me as well. Where I had come from and what I did for a living? When I explained him my work, he seemed to understand. He then invited me to come to his boat and share his meal. He unfolded a tattered newspaper which had some fish and rotis. That was all he had for breakfast but he was more than happy to share it with me. Our conversation than veered towards life and other subjects. I had almost spent two hours with him in conversation when  I saw my wife in the distance beckoning me over. We smiled and bid goodbye to each other.

  Later that evening, I was sitting in the beach enjoying the the sunset by the sea. The western skies were ornated with varied shades of pastel and mellow and the sun was casting its final rays for the day. I was in a state of delicious stupor. I could not fathom if my intoxication was wrought by the earthly spirits I had consumed or the enchanting womb of nature I was surrounded with. As I was looking at the horizon  I sighted the silhouette of a solitary fisherman by his boat far in the horizon. I kept my eyes fixed at it as it grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared into the oblivion. The shimmering expanse of the sea in all its vespertine glory made for for an intoxicating ambience and I allowed my mind to wander. Could this be the same friendly fisherman whom I had met in the morning, casting out his labor of love in the ocean he loved so dearly?

Hi !

There is a dual motive behind this blog. There are thoughts, ideas, stories ricocheting within the precincts of my mind in a state of restless ferment. These I intend to put to paper. The process is slow and gradual but nevertheless some of these will see the light of the day. This blog, is my veritable garden of Eden, which I intend to nurture occasionally through the  wellspring of my thoughts, for my own delectation as well as other kindred spirits.

My second motive is more pervasive. The French and Russian revolutions which tumbled the debauched despotic rule and ushered in constitutional democracy was marked with gory violence and bloodbath. Fortunately, we live in functional democracies where sweeping changes need not be predated by violence. We do-not require the guillotine of France or the rifle of the Bolsheviks. For we have something else in our arsenal that is more powerful, profound and pervasive… Words…, words and thoughts when properly articulated and cast on the right audience can have a snowballing effect. I am an opinionated person and I intend to use this blog to write about important happenings  around us and the world that have a bearing on humanity at large, in a way that accelerates change for the better. I might sound a bit pretensious  but that’s my honest intention behind this blog.