life journey......................

Read in: English | മലയാളം | தமிழ் | ಕನ್ನಡ | తెలుగు | हिंदी   I first met Raman at the Elamakkara Dattatreya Temple during a Rama Navami concert for which I accompanied on the violin. Mercy, one of Raman's disciples, sang with him. The music was pure and unadulterated. After the concert, we exchanged phone numbers. After returning from Muscat, I got a job as a music teacher at the Isha Home School in Coimbatore. We needed another music teacher, and Raman was the first person who came to mind. I called him, and he agreed to come for an interview. He joined the school as a music teacher. We had plenty of free time after teaching. Our friendship blossomed in Isha. We would practice music together, go to the nearby tea shop, and take long walks in the forest and fields. Once, I had booked a train ticket to go home for the summer holidays. In a hurry, I forgot to take it and had already set off on my bike to Coimbatore railway station. I realized my mistake halfway and turned back, bu...

Read in: English | മലയാളം | தமிழ் | ಕನ್ನಡ | తెలుగు | हिंदी I was so excited when I heard we were going to Ramapuram for the school holidays. I snuck a small pocket knife and sunglasses into my shorts, planning to scare my grandmother. I imagined myself jumping out and scaring her like a robber. There was only one bus from Ernakulam to Ramapuram each day, the KMS bus that went to Mundakkayam. My father knew the bald-headed driver and the tall, thin conductor very well. I loved sitting in the front seat, enjoying the view and watching the driver. But the driver spotted the knife and sunglasses in my pocket and told my mother. My plan was ruined. The bus left from under the Ernakulam South overpass. The journey took about two and a half hours. The driver drove fast, and there were very few stops. The bus stop in Ramapuram was near a large banyan tree in front of the Sree Rama temple. My father would often buy something from the tea shop nearby. Then we would walk about two kilometers to K...

Read in: English | മലയാളം | தமிழ் | ಕನ್ನಡ | తెలుగు | हिंदी I was returning on a motorbike from a relative's family function in Paravoor with my mother when the accident happened. It was a Sunday, and the road was relatively empty. I was driving a bit fast. As we approached Varappuzha, an elderly woman and her three granddaughters suddenly crossed the road. I couldn't slow down in time and hit them. My bike skidded, and we all fell. My mother hit her head on the ground. A passing auto-rickshaw man took her to Amrita Hospital. I returned to the accident site to retrieve my bike, and by then, the locals had taken the old lady who crossed the road causing the accident to Lourdes Hospital. Their family filed a police case against me. Unfortunately, my bike insurance had lapsed, and I was about to leave for a job interview in Muscat. In the meantime, the hospital informed us that my mother had a blood clot in her brain and would need surgery. I prayed fervently for her recovery and b...

Read in: English | മലയാളം | தமிழ் | ಕನ್ನಡ | తెలుగు | हिंदी Adv. Govind Bharatan It was Muhammed Sunil who taught me how to ogle girls when we were in the tenth grade. We would take the same bus home after school, both of us sitting at the back. As the bus passed St. Teresa's Women's College, he would look at the girls walking on the side of the road and make comments, which I soon started imitating. This habit continued when I joined St. Albert's College for my pre-degree. We would often go to Maharaja's College just to look at girls. Sachidananda Pai was another good friend of mine during the school days. He played the mridangam. He accompanied me on the mridangam for my violin debut. We often practiced music together and participated in musical events. Sachi's younger brother, Shivananda Pai, was later chosen as the Spiritual head of their community and was known as Raghavendra Tirtha. Sachi and I studied together for a while at St. Albert's College in Ernakul...

Read in: English | മലയാളം | தமிழ் | ಕನ್ನಡ | తెలుగు | हिंदी "I studied in a Christian missionary school, Seventh-Day Adventist, in Kaloor, Ernakulam, during my early years. When I think back to that school, the first thing that comes to mind is Fridays. We had a long lunch break at 3 PM. After lunch, we would play games like kabaddi and tag. The other times, we would practice for cultural programs. I still remember Manoj, who had a beautiful singing voice. His hair was a bit long, just like Yesudas'. He used to sing songs like 'Maadapraave va oru koodu kootaan va', 'Pranayasarovaratheeram', and many more. We all admired him. The beautiful Preetha J. Eapen, the chubby Maya, and the slightly dark-skinned Sandhya from our class would always applaud him. Shashy was our class comedian. He would do mono acts and mimicry. When he ran out of material, we would create our own comedy skits. My closest friends were Biju Philip and Ubaid. Our friendship was seen as a symbol...

It must have been around 1993-95. I used to go to Swami Bodhi Tirtha at the Edappally Gurukulam to learn Sanskrit, along with my friends Rajeev, Rajesh, and Umesh. Once, Swami said, 'Guru Nitya Chaitanya Yati' is coming. Manu, you should come with your violin.' I was thrilled. I was finally going to meet the Guru I had only read about in books! As I waited, a black Ambassador car arrived, and the Guru and his disciples got out. He was a bulky looking grandfather figure, holding a pillow. After a short rest, Swami Bodhi introduced me to him. 'This is Manu. He plays the violin very well,' he said. Then Guru asked me to play. I played 'Bandu Reethi Kolu,' a Thyagaraja kriti in the Hamsanadam raga. Guru listened to it with his eyes closed, lost in meditation. I felt his meditative state transfer into my music. After I finished playing, he spoke about the spiritual aspects of music. It opened up a new dimension in music for me. That evening, there was a discourse...

Read in: English | മലയാളം | தமிழ் | ಕನ್ನಡ | తెలుగు | हिंदी Muhammed Sunil was my close friend and protector during my high school days. Though Sunil was typically a backbencher, he started sitting with me in the front seat after being my friend. As the son of a school teacher, I was expected to excel in both studies and behavior. Despite this, I had a secret admiration for the backbenchers. Whenever there was a protest in the school, I would be the first one to leave the class. Then, it was all about fun and games. Bharathan and Vinayak, the other backbenchers, would often sneak out to smoke cigarettes. They also found pleasure in bullying weaker students. Sunil was always there to rescue me. Though small in stature, he was brave and quite strong. Once, I visited Sunil’s house. His father owned a gym. One day, Sunil didn't come to school. Our class teacher told us he is absconding. He showed us a newspaper advertisement with a small photo of Sunil and a caption that read, ‘Son, whe...