I found it!

This young man came home.
He does not come very often. When he comes, he starts a good discussion.
The same happened today also.
We talked about a lot of things. One thing lead to another and we ended up talking about culture. He straight asked me what is there to feel great about Telugu culture?
I really got excited. I said Kuchipudi dance is out and out Telugu!
No answer. Then he asked me what in music?
I got wild this time. I said entire classical music in south India is ours!
There started a very good discussion. And thsi si what I said.

There is a very famous composer in Carnatic music by name Mysore Vasudevacharya. By birth he was a Tamilian, The Maharaja of Mysore took him into his court and made him the court musician. The best part is Vasudevacharya composed most of his songs in Telugu! It appears the Maharaja called the musician and asked a straight question. " You are a Tamilian. Me, who is sponsoring you, am a Kannadiga. How is it, you compose your songs in Telugu?" I really do not know the answer from the great Sri Vasudevacharya, but he continued to compose his songs in Telugu later also.
Ramanathapuram Srinivasa Iyengar, who is also known as Poochi Iyengar also composed songs in Telugu. Many other composers followed suit.
I really have this question in my mind for a long time. Why did they do so?
I have my own answer too.
We now, thanks to Nehru and his language states idea, think of immediate boundaries to the language. Back in those time everyone spoke all the languages. They never thought some particular language is not theirs. Tyagaraja and the others laid a path and the later composers followed the same. If Tamil brothers and sisters , even when not really aware about the sahitya bhava, sing the Telugu songs and enjoy, what is wrong with us, to at least to listen to them and feel proud of the language?
Telugus have a wonderful character.
Looking down upon themslves and their culture!!
I am also a Telugu man.
Back in history my people were not.
My blood pressure raises today, if some one speaks easy of this language. I am equally fond of all languages. I learnt Urdu just for the beauy of it.

I think, thanks to this young man, found something to talk about!
His wife was waiting in the hospital to deliver their first baby! After a long talk, he went to my wife and told, "After talking to Mama, the tension in me has disappeared!" The tension of first fathering he said. My wife was to conduct the delivery. I believe the boy or girl born after this discussion will at least be named suitably!!

Passing the buck!

I keep telling this story again and again.

Here it goes once again!

Once there was a king.
He had seven sons.
Seven sons went fishing and brought seven fish.
They laid the seven fish for drying.
One among them was not getting dry.
"Fish! O Fish! Why are you not dry?"
"The hay stack came in the way!"
"Oh Hay Stack! Why did you come in the way?"
"The cow has not eaten me!"
"Hey Cow! Why did not you eat the grass?"
"The cowherd never took me there."
"Cowherd! O Cowherd! Why did not you take the cow to the grass?"
"Old lady did not give me food."
"Old Lady! Why did not you give food to the cowherd?"
"The little boy is crying."
"Little boy! Why are you crying?"
"The ant bit me!"
"Ant O Ant! Why did you bite the little boy?"
"What will I do if he puts his finger in the golden anthill?"

That is the end of the story.
Did the story end there?
What happened to the fish and the princes who brought them?
This is what usually happens.
The main point is forgotten in the name of details.

What shall I write?

I really do not know what should I write?

I can write about the past and the life in the village and the like.
History has become irrelevant these days. The other day I read a small artice in The Hindu about the uselessness of history. History is at two levels. We all know that India became independent on 15th August 1947
If we do not know and remember this date I am sure heavens will not fall. If you remember the date however, you will feel more attached and concerned about the matter. This is history at a national level.

Everywhere you go, you claim a certain lineage by quoting your family name. You also tell that you belong to a cetain place. I am sure it is about history at your personal level. An Akbar or Chandragupta ruling this country is not as well connected to you as the family history.
I am really concerned about the lack of this sense in people. I really do not know about my own grand father. I do not have the faintest idea about how his father looked and what he did or said.

I have a question for all of you. How mnay of you know about your village and the people thereof, say 100 years back?
This can perhaps be called as micro history. History at your own level.

Many people, great ones, write what is called an autobiography.
Otherwise ther are biographies written about equally great people who did not bother to record their past. There are novels about people. These are all books of micro history.

I firmly believe that every soul has a history to tell. It is notenough to know about only great people. Commoners have a life too. Even that will be interesting, if only you can look into it from the right point of view.

Now a days you have the possibility of recording the events even in visual form. Back in the days of yore, even writing was not possible. We lost so much of precious information just because no one thought of recording it. People should look into their geneologies and find out about their forefathers. Get what little information is possible. I have a surname. I do not know how I am related to that place. Many people are like this, I found. I am told that there is a village by that name in Karnataka. Is it still there? I would like to know. When and how we reached our present place. There are people who give contasting information. It means they do not know for sure.

This is one thing that can be written about.
There are many more things to write about.
What shall I write?

Oh God!
I thank you, and the three great hearts who chose to comment on my work.
I was under the impression that blogs are a waste of time and nobody is serious about them.
I am so happy that a netizen not only proved it wrong, but also chided me about my attitude.
Thanks friend, for the comment!
I dont think I have ever boasted that I am great man.
I am still trying to find my footing in this world.
I have written so much. But I shudder to claim that I am a writer.
Did I really bring to the readers at least one idea that I can call really mine?
Back in the university days, poet friends of mine called me "an ever budding poet". I still remain an ever budding everything.

I have a small web site too. The metre there shows that many people are visiting the pages. Hardly anyone takes time to send a word, not necessarily appreciation. Still,I am doing what all I do, to just satisfy myself. Now I will take this work a little more seriously. I will not be indulging in this talk about me and my ideas. I will do something that helps me first and then others too.

Who Knows!

Long back I read a Chinese poem. Ofcourse, I read translation.
It goes something like this.
"I know that people will not listen to what I say.
That does not stop me from saying what I have to say.
I have to say because I can not keep quiet."

Exactly following in the footsteps of this idea, I am also saying what I have to!
I was reading a book by Bono. He quoted someones saying. It says, " You need not be recognised after you are recognised."
Banks, it looks , give loans to people who prove that they don't need money.
The situation is just like that.
As long as you are looking for recognition, no one takes notice of you. Once you are somebody to reckon with, you never worry about that recognition. And, the whole world keeps going around you.
The paradigms these days, have changed, though.
People are not looking for recognition. They are mad after the benefits in the form of bank balance. If you have the real dough with you, you care a pin about what people think about you.
I have perhaps become an old man, in this regard. I still crave for recognition. A smile on your face after you read these few words is worth the time I spent typing it out!!
Thanks for making my day!!

You and Your Work

It is a long time I wrote anything.
I continue to write the stuff that gives me money. There are not many around who live only by writing. I do! So, I have to write whether I like it or not. Most writers talk about mood. Classical poets went further asking for umpteen things before they could write a few lines. But, if you are making money by writing, you can not complain about not having the right mood etc.
It is called a profession. Creative writing can be a profession too. My friend Devipriya used to produce a funny poem everyday on the current political affairs. So does every cartoonist. Columnists, of which I was one, are of the same breed. They have to poduce something readable at regular intervals. I am sure editors will pick up only such people who can do that.
I was a columnist for long periods in various magazines. I did not put any editor to trouble beacuse of my mood or such things. I remember one of those sub-editors telling me that he will even make the page up without my piece. When the piece arrives it exactly fits the ususl slot. Working in radio perhaps gave me that awareness of space and time.
You can not go on telling your story. I did it once. I think it was when Rakesh Sharma went into space. I was to talk about the event in the children's program. I spoke and spoke for too long. The producer in charge , a kind lady, said that the information was very good and b'cast it over two weeks.
Blogs are totally different story. You really do not know who is reading them. Unless you have a periodicity and some kind of expectability, you can not expect people to come to your pages often.
I was not writing anything. I really mean to write a series on two or three topics dearer to my heart. I wish I can do it!

Should I?

I some times feel dejected and feel I should not be working so much. Nobody cares about your work, in fact!

Then, there are the others who worked without letup even when they were not expected to. This Mr. Ramachandra Rao, whom I could call a friend was one like that. He was 95.

He went to the publishing house, collected some addresses and was making a mail packet when he collapsed. He was taken to the hospital and he found his way from there to the promised land. Never to come back.

A few days before that we spoke on the phone. I told him that translation of his book is finished and asked him to send some one to collect the same. I also asked for the money. He owed mw a lot. He asked me how much I should get. I said that he knows it better. He said he will come personally to take the book and also perhaps settle the account. Usually he used to kind of make an appointment and used to be really on time. This time he said he will come at six in the evening. Never mentioned the day. I will now wait till he comes.

This man was a great soul. There were not more than 20 people in the memorial meeting. Those who spoke never really knew him well. May be Subbarayan and me were the exceptions. Mr. Bharadwaja, the organiser was of course an exception beyond my imagination. He was the only man feeling bad about the departure of the person.

I feel bad that a man like Ramachandra Rao is not cared for. Nobody knows him. The erudition and the scholarship. The diligence in whatever he did, at the age of 95 was a model for dull heads like me. At that age Rao was still writing and producing the video documentaries as seriously or more seriously as a young man. It is a paradox. I struggle and do all the things that I am doing now. When I die like Mr. Rao and everyone else, no one mourns. I am not talking about my family and friends. I am talking about the world which considers me as a writer and creator of mental material etc. The question is, should I not bother about any one noticing and patting on my back, and continue to do my thing? Should I give up now because it is all of no consequence? I am in affix!

Do we do things because we want to do them? Do we do things because the world will notice and appreciate us? It is both. You do your thing and feel relieved. You have to do it! It urges you to come out with it, the idea! Then, if others notice and say a good word about your effort you will be doubly happy. Simple! This appreciation is the force that drives all the endeavors in this world. I remember the dialogues in the Telugu stage drama Keertiseshulu. The protagonist is a stage artist. He is left in the lurch in the hour of need. He talks about what kept him stuck to the acting. People clap because of the excellence in his present performance. The dialogue then is about the claps. He says these claps of people made him to continue as a performer.

When in esnips I find that many people are coming and seeing my collection of books and music etc. I feel I should do much more there. The same goes with my site on tripod. Why am I doing these things? Not because I know computers or internet. Because people will see what I feel and what I do!

I am at a loss! May be I will quit all the activity and turn my energy to some thing more useful Definitely not to me! It should be useful to people!

Once again the problem starts. Do people appreciate what I do there either?